Tick, tick, tick.

Note: This is chapter nine of my gothic vampire romance novel. To read the previous chapters, content warnings included, explore the ‘Death's Clock' post on my profile.

Chapter Nine

“What,” Elvira breathed.

Rosia bit her lip, shaking her head in a familiar gesture of her fighting back tears. “My disease is progressing faster than we’d expected it to. We aren’t sure how long is left, but-” she hiccupped and a sob finally slipped out, twisting her beautiful features in pain, “it’s less than a year, Evie. A lot less.”

“Oh my god.” Elvira gathered Rosia into her arms, and the girl immediately dropped the bag to cling to her.

Suddenly, Elvira’s mind was clearer than it had been for weeks. The claws of her nightmares that had sunk themselves deep into her brain were whisked away as Rosia’s words played on a constant loop.

A horrible shock settled over her as she led Rosia up to the bedroom, tucked her into her bed, and smoothed the hair back from her face. She wasn’t sure of the words falling from her mouth as she scrambled to comfort her friend. But it must have worked as Rosia’s breathing deepened.

For a long while, Elvira sat motionless at her feet, staring at the wall.

They were supposed to have a year before saying goodbye. In that time, a cure could have been discovered. But now there may have only been mere months. Elvira felt gutted and couldn’t imagine what Rosia was feeling.

What was it like to be told you’re dying and there was nothing to save you?

Elvira couldn’t stay there for a second longer, and she slipped out of the house, and ran.

She wasn’t sure where she was running, only knew the burning rage was turning her vision red as she stumbled down the hill, the graveyard archway rising above her. Breezing, through the entrance, she didn’t stop until the heel of her boot smashed against the sleeping lady statue.

Elvira brought her foot down upon it mercilessly over and over again, not caring as furious tears raced down her cheeks. Even as the stone began to crumple beneath her boot she didn’t relent, grinding the broken pieces into dust, and breaking more off.

It wasn’t until the muscles in her leg were screaming, her chest burning with each jagged breath, that she let herself fall a few steps back.

She folded over her knees and fought to catch her breath as the anger faded, leaving her completely drained. Gray dust coated her black boots, the bottoms of her matching jeans, and even a little on the bottom of the god-awful black polo she was forced to wear for her job at the club.

Forcing herself to stand, Elvira tried to gather her composure. Tried to remember that Rosia was there now. Still alive, still breathing, and that any time with her would be better than nothing.

But none of that assuaged the pain that cut through her chest. None of it kept Rosia alive.

She made herself focus on the sky. It was clearer than the night of her birthday, with millions of brilliant stars glistening down at her. The moon was nearly full, which she was grateful for, as its light would surely flood the floor-to ceiling windows that lined one wall of her bedroom.

Her emotional turmoil had nearly lessened to a tolerable amount when a horribly familiar voice said, “You put on an excelent performance.”

Elvira whirled to face the demon. He was leaning against a tall headstone a few feet away. So close that she should have noticed him, would have if she hadn’t been so lost in her grief.

He’d switched out the crimson trench coat with a black one, like he’d worn in her nightmares.

She stepped back, “Why are you still here?” It had been over two weeks, and she’d assumed he’d disappeared; like any logical person would do if they were on the run.

He grinned a devastating grin. “I tried, but unfortunately, all of the blood did not wear away what little shred of a conscience I had, and so I failed.”

“What does that mean?” She asked, mentally calculating how far she was from the exit. Tonight wasn’t her birthday and there’d be no stopping him if he decided to kill her. She’d successfully escaped from him alive, only to end up before him once more.

“While a monster I may be, I cannot deny the fact that it was me who dragged you into the path of danger.”

“The Shades are gone.” She hadn’t seen one since that night, except for in her dreams.

He gave her a look suggesting he knew otherwise, but, eyes flicking to the statue at her feet, asked, “Who evoked such violence from you?”

Elvira ground her teeth together and glared at the statue, who was now an unfortunate victim to her rage. She wasn’t sure why she answered, but it seemed that standing before a monster in the center of an abandoned graveyard left her with no reason to hide. “My best friend is sick. She was promised a year to live, and now-” she paused, nudging one of the broken pieces as her rage threatened to rise once more, “now we don’t even have that.”

The demon’s face was emotionless when she looked up once more, which chilled her even more than his normal eerie grins. “I’ve lived long enough to watch many of my captors fall prey to illness. No matter how many sicknesses are cured, more always pop up.” Eyes narrowing slightly, he said, “I do hope a cure is found for your friend.”

“Thank you,” she said, unsure if they were the right words to match his unsettling ones. A shiver rushed through her and as his predatory gaze followed the motion, she knew she needed to leave before he decided to use his mouth for more fatal purposes. “I should go be with her.”

His eyes tracked her steps away from him, and it was in the way his muscles locked, his eyes lighting with a foreign hunger, that she could tell just how much he wanted to follow her. Elvira forced herself to walk despite how much she longed to run, to turn her back on him as she made her way home.

And only when the backdoor was locked behind her did she realize that he’d let her live. Again.

***

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