Deadly Beautiful. by Vivian Vargas (good novels to read TXT) 📕

was shut me out. And since then I have learned never to bring up his family. I have learned not even to ask how he was doing, his life being a worser misery than mine. I was scared when I let that slip from my lips, but he looked at me from the corner of his red eyes with no contempt. In fact, there was a hardness there that did not spell scorn, but it looked more like determination.
“Morgan, I wish you did not want to become a vampire.” He replied stoutly, straightening up to his full height, which towered well above me.
His words were a little blow to me.
“Why?” I breathed. I was suddenly afraid that he had changed his mind. I was afraid that he decided that he was not going to grant me the gift of changing me. I felt my heart race and I put a hand on my chest as though I can still it.
“No, darling,” he said quickly as he assessed my reaction, “I will change you, I swore I will. I will be your sire, just as we planned. I just wish there was some other way.”
He paused for a second, closing his eyes for a moment.
“There is no other way.” I said through gritted teeth. We had this conversation quite a few times before.
“I said wish there was.” He said a little coldly, not looking at me.
“Well Liam, I am afraid that…”
“…there is nothing else that we can do to keep you from dying. Yes, I know. Your cancer is killing you slowly. We talked of this before.” His voice was emotionless, arrogant, and his words came out in a long drawl as though he were mocking me. That was just a mere taste of the Liam I have known for so long.
“Yes.” I shot back. He opened his eyes again and came closer to me. Fannie snorted uncomfortably. My breathing hitched. He was so close now that I could touch my nose to the buttons of his overcoat. I could smell his wonderful scent. It was nothing I could describe. He smelled of a vibrant musk only a good, strong, worthwhile male can give off. He smelled rich and superb, like the beautiful full moon would if I knew how it smelled like. Like honeydew melon or cucumbers, like healthy soil freshly turned. Like the coppery, salty scent of blood.
He put both hands on my shoulders. I shivered, though I tried to hide it. I could tell that I did not fool him, but he did not move his hands away.
“I give you one month of living as a vampire before you decide that you were better off dying with dignity.” He murmured. His tone of voice was deathly serious, and it sent tremors rollicking down my spine.
“Do you want to bet on that?” I challenged him. He smiled coyly, chuckling softly. His icy hands skimmed down my arms, caressing my arms. His actions made it a little hard for me to breathe.
“I have told you that the vampire life is not what it seems, haven’t I? Well, you had better keep that in mind.” He said, his voice nearly a demure, menacing growl. But the wicked grin that came afterwards unsettled me. His lips parted over his pearly white teeth, and I saw his fangs up close. They were much more menacing as close as he was. He looked a little demented smiling as so.
“Well, sick and dying is worse.” I commented. I shuffled away from his embrace and took a step back, wrapping my arms around myself. I got cold from his touch. He didn’t say a thing, but I could tell he wanted to. I did not know if he wanted to comfort me or if he wanted to scold me.
“I am not saying this because I am being selfish Morgan. I am saying this because I have lived long enough to know what it’s like. I don’t like being a monster. No matter how you look at me, whether your image of me is the same of what I see of myself… bottom line is I’m a bloodsucking beast.” His voice was soft. “I have no reason to live. I understand if you think you do, because you are young and had just had a taste of it.”
He closed the space between us that I had made moments earlier, and I felt his fingers underneath my chin, making me look at him. I gazed directly into his solemn, striking face and for a moment I believe my heart forgot to beat. Or he stole my breath. Whichever one it was, it was direly effective. He took my hand and placed it across his strong chest, where his heart should have been. I felt nothing but the silence of an unbeating heart, dead, and I imagined it to be, cobwebbed in the cavity of his chest.
“Stay human, Morgan. It’s no joy living for eternity. Trust me, believe in me. There are many times when I wish I was dead.” He said softly. His voice was like sweet buttermilk, dropping gently in my ears like a dew of temptation. Liam had that power over me. He knew it and was not afraid to use it.
He did not ask me for it like he usually did. Something dire churned in his scarlet eyes. The priceless red rubies that held all of his civility suddenly shattered. The icy cold hands on my shoulders became a terrible vice-like grip hurting me. He bared his fangs –not in the smile I most often sighed in pleasure seeing it, but in an awful, monster like grimace. A low growl ripped from his clenched teeth, and for that nanosecond I saw Liam’s true nature, the real, leech-like fiend he is. He no longer looked handsome, he did not look human –not that he ever really did, for he was far too heavenly to be considered human- but somehow he even look less than that. Less than anything that walked this earth, or even worse, more than anything. He was a hungry monster full of power. He was unstoppable.
I shrieked when he grabbed my head and twisted it to expose my neck. But when he closed his fangs over my throat and pierced my flesh, it stifled the next scream coming. I felt as though I was gagged, and I was in pain. He was not gentle and smooth like he usually was. I felt his greediness suck the life out of me. I tried to fight against him. But it simply was no use.
There was absolutely nothing I could think at that moment to convince myself that I did not like Liam forcefully drinking my blood like this. Truthfully, I wanted more. I wanted him to drain every last drop of my blood if it meant to experience the arousing sensation for a longer time. When he removed his fangs from my neck, breathing heavily, when he whispered, “You see the monstrosity I am?” I could not help but feel amazed, star struck. My own blood covered the paleness of his lips, staining his pearly white fangs. The moonlight reflected off his teeth and for a moment I was blinded. I did not see the atrocity he spoke of. I only saw the being I was meant to be. I saw my destiny in his terrifyingly handsome face.
He leaned in and forcefully kissed me. I felt as though fire was pulsing throughout my body, starting from my lips, where his touched mine. Liam never kissed me on the lips before. Never. The act literally stole the words form my mouth. I felt as though I was to never speak again. He left me speechless.
He stepped back, the expression on his face hard. Liam turned his back to me and rushed into the dark branches, vanishing completely from sight, leaving me in the woods with my heart racing uncontrollably.

************

Whitney

I got to know George for the time coming. Since the Druid ceremony, I have often found George hanging around the hotel. I have heard that he is constantly talking to Sasha, asking about me all the time. I have seen them talking quietly in the kitchen. I have always wondered why Sasha never looked particularly pleased to see him. I wondered why women in general didn’t seem to like him. I didn’t mind him, even though there was always that tad little thing about his air that made me wonder once or twice whether he was a good guy. People wear masks, don’t they? I had a mask myself, hiding my true face, acting like everything was okay. That wasn’t true. I was still broken inside, still ripped apart with my pieces gone missing. I was slowly putting myself back together again, but the prospect was easier to think about than to actually do.
Once or twice I bumped into George, and he always gave me a pleasant hug and kiss, like we were the best of friends. It was nice to have a man like him interested in me, not a dirty older one with a pink penis. He was so clean cut and neat that whenever he passed I was reminded of some type of suit model, maybe modeling Burberry or some shit like that. I could see George as one. He had that nice, high-class look about him. He made money, I could very much tell.
One day he simply came up to me and handed me a card. It was one of those fancy business cards that very important people hand out in movies. He pressed the card to my hand and whispered in my ear: “Call me.” He walked past me after that with a wink of his nice eyes, his shiny polished loafers clapping on the floor. The rhythm of his step stood in my mind all day after that. I did not call him for a few days. That nagging feeling of foreboding kept tugging at my insides. He looked very well off, much more so than I ever was. What if he was just one of those fucking frat boys simply looking for a good lay? It was easy for a girl like me to think she was about to fall in some Cinderella story. I wanted to believe this man was suddenly thrust in my life because he was meant to be my Prince Charming. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?
I deserve it. After all the shit I’ve been through, I thought that I deserved that.

****
Sasha was not thrilled when I told her. I ran to the kitchens delightful and a little flustered, holding the card in my hand like I found a hundred pence-pound. She eyed it mistrustfully when I showed it to her, and told her what happened. When I was done babbling. She set down her mop, smoothed her hair, and then stated point-blank, “Whitney , he is way too old for you. He is like what? Nearly thirty?”
“I know, Sasha, but age doesn’t matter. He is so well-groomed and sharp and he’s cute…”
“He’s older than you. That makes him a pedophile. You are only fifteen.”
I pouted, disappointed that my best friend was not happy for me. A little voice in my head told me that she was being a better friend than the one that would be jumping and squealing and giggling with me, just because she pointed out the obvious. But instead, like a fucking idiot, I replied, “George is no goddamn pedophile. George is into me. I know it.”
I could tell that what I said got her agitated. Her eyes suddenly flashed a strange silver color, that same color I see happen to them whenever she was about