Аманда Хокинг - Flutter

I went about getting ready, but I couldn’t find the energy to shower. I just brushed my teeth, got dressed, and pulled my hair back in a messy bun. I tried to call Jane again, but she still wouldn’t answer. Milo and Bobby were going have to go to the club again soon to check on her, but I didn’t feel up to being around Bobby in order to talk to them about it. In fact, I could hardly stand being this close to them as it was. All their heartbeats echoed in my ears, and I could smell the faint scent of Bobby through my walls. I was going to have to distract myself somehow before I went insane.

I knocked franticly on Peter’s bedroom door and chewed my lip. I stood a better chance of not biting him than I did Bobby, and even if I did bite Peter, he stood a better chance of living. Since I was at this point, I probably should’ve considered eating, but I really, really had to control of myself. Because I really, really wanted to be alone with Jack, and this was the only way I could trust myself to do that. This would be so worth it in the end, though.

“What?” Peter opened his bedroom door, looking irritated. “Is the house on fire?”

“No. Can I come in?” I tucked a stray stand of hair behind my ears and looked plaintively at him. His green eyes were confused, but he relented and took a step back from the door so I could go in.

When I brushed past him, I inhaled deeply. He smelled so good, and I had almost forgotten that. His blood used to be my favorite scent in the world, before I really knew that’s what it was.

When I had been human, the tangy scent he left behind always intoxicated me, and I hadn’t realized that was his blood I was lusting after. Now I did, and the smell was even stronger and more delicious.

“You look hungry,” Peter commented. He shut the bedroom door behind me when I came in, and that might have bothered me if I had a clearer head.

“Yeah, well,” I tried to play it off like nothing. For him to notice meant it had to be getting bad. My skin was paler than normal, and my heart was beating more rapidly than it should.

His room was slightly messy, or at least as messy as he would allow, which was much cleaner than mine and Jack’s room. His large four post bed was unmade, but the white blankets were pulled back neatly.

Bookshelves lined his walls, but they were overflowing. Peter had apparently decided to spend the day reading, and there were a few books discarded on his bed. On the white chair by the bookcases, he had a book splayed open, a red ribbon marking his page should it close. The French doors that led onto the balcony off his room were slightly ajar, letting in a chill breeze that ruffled his curtains. I paced his room, trying to ignore the painful gnawing inside of me, but I stopped when I saw the red stain on his white rug.

“Perhaps you should eat,” Peter suggested, but there was an uncomfortable edge to his words. He had caught me staring at the stain and was eager to draw my attention from it. It was blood, my blood, from when he had nearly killed me.

“Why don’t you throw away the rug?” I twisted at the hem of my shirt, feeling fidgety, and turned to face him.

“As you can tell, I’m really not in the mood to hang out,” Peter completely ignored my question. He avoided my gaze and gestured to his room, as if the state of it would signify something to me. Underneath his smooth tan skin, I could see his veins pulsing delicately, but it had quickened ever so slightly.

I was making him nervous, and I delighted in that, even though it was doing nothing to ease my hunger pains.

“You shut the door behind me,” I motioned to the closed door. “I think you’re okay with talking. You just want everything on your terms.”

“What’s so wrong with that? Don’t you want everything on your own terms?” Peter grumbled, running a hand through his chestnut hair. He hadn’t cut it since we’d come back, and while I had never been partial to long hair on guys, it looked really good on him.

In fairness, everything looked really good on him. Wearing slim jeans and a white sweater that rode smoothly over his muscles, he was still the most attractive vampire I’d ever seen, and that really was saying a lot. I hated him for it. The way he could just be casually spending the day in his room, and look like he was a movie star at a video shoot. More than that, I hated that I was still attracted him, when I knew I had no reason to be.

“I want things the way I want them, but I don’t force other people to live by my rules,” I clarified.

“Neither do I! Am I forcing you to do anything?” Peter countered and looked at me, letting his brilliant emerald eyes pierce through me. They still dazzled me, if not the same way that they once did, but maybe in my hunger, they hit me even more. Everything about him just seemed so much more enticing.

“No, but… I don’t know.” I shook my head and turned away from him, returning to pacing his room again. Peter leaned against one of the posts on his bed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why don’t you just eat something instead of pestering me?” he asked.

“No, no, I can’t,” I waved away the idea. “I’m fine anyway.”

“Very convincing,” Peter sighed. “Is that what you’re doing here? Trying to distract yourself from eating? You’re probably fantasizing about ripping into your brother’s little boy toy, aren’t you?”

“Don’t be disgusting!” I scoffed, but he was really close to the truth, and I blushed a little.

“It’s not disgusting. It’s a fact of life.” He narrowed his eyes at me as something occurred to him.

“You haven’t bitten anyone yet, have you? You’re still a virgin to the vampire ways?”

“I’m virgin in every way,” I grumbled under my breath before I could catch myself.

“What was that?” Peter asked with wide eyes.

“Oh, never mind!” I shook my hands and blushed deeper. “I haven’t been turned for very long! I need time to get everything under control! I don’t want to kill anybody!”

“I see.” A wry smirk was growing on his lips, and I sighed heavily.

“Stop! Don’t look at me like that!” I chastised him, but that only made him chuckle softly.

Groaning, I looked around his room, desperate to find something else to talk about. Luckily for me, I spotted something that was actually worth talking about.

On his bed, half covered by his blanket, probably in a poor attempt to conceal it, was a book. But not just any book. It was a century old with worn binding and tattered pages, and I had spent a great deal of time reading it a few months ago. Entitled A Brief History of Vampyres, Jack had been convinced that Peter had written it himself. I had stolen it from Peter’s room and kept it until it mysteriously disappeared from my room.

I moved towards his bed to grab the book, but Peter saw where I was heading and moved to intercept me. He was much quicker than me, but I think his attempt was rather half-hearted since I’d already seen the book. It wasn’t like he could hide it from me now. He grabbed my wrist just as my hand touched the cover, and almost the instant his skin hit mine, it started to heat up considerably. I pretended like I didn’t notice and jerked my hand away from him before he could feel my pulse quicken in his grip.

“You did take it!” I said indignantly and held the book up in front of his face, as if he wouldn’t know what I was talking about. “I knew you took it!”

“It’s my book! You stole it from me!” Peter tried to match my indigence but failed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was embarrassed at getting caught.

“So?” I faltered for a minute, since he did technically have a point. “You weren’t reading it, and I didn’t ‘steal’ it. I was borrowing it.”