Chapter 8

“I was dead for one week?” She blurted with enough shock that it made Andrew roll his eyes. But he stopped when he noticed her emotions were not easily suppressed on her innocent face. “Oh my God! I died,” she began again. And he saw her shock, pain, and fear; it was apparent in the crease of her lovely brow and the down-curve of her full lips. But her eyes—her eyes showed her soul. They were a deep brown of restless autumn, an amber of unfortunate plight. A window! Andrew realised that as he stared into her eyes, he knew all the beauty of the universe could not even hope to compete with this unpretentious little mortal: Passion. Raw. Pure. Innocent. It was all there to see; it turned her eyes into orbs of luminous fire. And in them, he examined her completely, knowing that she would battle to the very last tear for her life. And yet she did. She was back from the dead. He made her! She followed her command not to succumb to the darkness. He made her come back. FOr him? For the world? He doesn't know why he did what he did. All he knew was that he couldn't let her die. Diana was his first creation. His first sired vampire was so innocent and bright. Like a shiny beacon. Pure! Powerful! Magical.

"Technically, you didn't die. I mean, in a human sense, you did, but to us, immortals, you didn't.”

“What?” her eyes turned cold. “Did I just hear you say we are immortals? You are immortal?” she laughed so hard that it ached her chest to even gasp for a little air.

He saw the determination and shock in her eyes and knew that she would not let reality break her. Sure, she could cry, but she would never let the world and pain take her true self from her. She clung to it with affection and desire. It was her desire that made her unique and powerful.

After a few minutes, she was done laughing. She held one pillow, and her eyes surveyed the room. She then wandered the length of Andrew’s body with hunger in her eyes. Her teeth were aching from the need to bite him. She wandered her eyes down to his muscular calves, leading to what she could only imagine were muscular thighs hidden underneath his black pants. Tapered hips and broad shoulders stretch his black shirt across his chest. A little scruff on his jaw, full lips—to his hard, delicious hardness.

For the love of guacamole, stop, Diana. Just stop! She chastised herself as she lifted her gaze to the deep ocean blue eyes smiling at her, finally letting the realisation hit her badly. And damn! This man was hot! Ryan Reynolds—kind of hot with all the muscles and the smile that could enter anyone's heart, not too hard and not too soft. Hmp! All the more fascinating and delicious at the same time. His eyes were bluer than blue—mesmerising, full of needs and desire—and all she wanted was to spread her legs and let him...

Wait, what did he say?

He was talking.

“Yes, you've been asleep for one week; I mean, died."

"What?” Finally, his words were audible. She grumbled, “One week? You mean I was in a coma? That kind of die…?”

He just looked at her with an unblinking gaze.

Diana continued, “Not that I believe you are immortal. Silly. But really? You mean, I was asleep for a fucking week? The whole week?" The hell is wrong with you now, Diana? Are you auditioning for sleeping beauty? The hell is wrong with you?

“Who’s sleeping beauty?” he asked with a raised brow.

“What?” How did you know what I'm thinking?”

“Probably because you are that transparent?”

“You’re crazy; stop answering my questions with questions,” she frowned.

“Whatever, but anyway, I brought you something to drink up. I believe you're thirsty and hungry?" He plastered a devilish smile on his face. He lowered down the glass of red wine, or that was what she thought.

"What is this?" she asked, glaring at the wineglass. The glass of wine was amazingly delicious, with a weird taste of honey and something weirdly spicy. She was expecting him to at least give her some water, but this was unpredictable. This wine was the best of the best. “This is delicious!” A vintage maybe, hell of wine indeed, and it felt like nectar of honey from the garden of Eden!

Andrew cocked his brow up. “Really? Do you like it? It's not disgusting anymore?” he teased.

Diana frowned, but she noticed him with the same intensity she did earlier, like everything was on HD. So clear and so bright, so delightfully intense that she even noticed that this closed, Andrew had these hard features, hot, muscular drawn-back shoulders in him, which emphasise and do justice to his dry-fit shirt, a strong jawline, and impressive cheekbones with shapely hollows beneath. She didn't even notice it before, and boy, he looks ready to eat. 

Andrew smiled, and she wondered. It was not like he could read her mind, right? She pondered.

She bit her lips. “What do you mean, disgusting? This is amazing."

"That's not wine, by the way.”

“What?”

He grinned, “That's blood, you are a vampire now, so I gave you one that could replenish you and quench the hunger you had." He explained in a manner like teaching a high school kid, but his pupils were dilated when she moved slowly, her mind still shocked, her lips still red, and the silky blanket revealing such delicate smooth skin, and right there, Andrew knew he had been gritting his teeth with the view.

Holy fuck! She was beautiful and alluring before, but now? She looked like a goddess out of Eden. Pure, powerful, raw and velvety, tempting, and smooth...

Andrew hissed, his gaze still fixed on her. And at that thought, he felt an infusion of strength that was so intoxicating. He knew lust and passion were different in a way a vampire wouldn't understand, but he'd never understood until that moment. This woman was his death. His own very curse. And those pale, smooth legs! How could someone ignore that? Her amazing scent? He knew he was hard just by looking at her. And how could he forget how delicious her scent was when he tasted her?

She began breathing slowly; her mind was still shocked. "Ah, vampire? Me?” she pointed to herself and laughed again. “Silly me, is this some kind of joke?" Bullshit! Really a vampire? Bella and Edward? Jesus! Maybe he was on drugs. Well, maybe not? But then, some nuggin sensation inside her wanted to believe him. Though Diana noticed his discomfort, like he was on fire, some thought came in. She turned crimson as tingles made their way up her spine when his gaze lingered on her chest, to her neck, and down to her legs. She gasped at the intensity of his gaze, like he was in the middle of the desert, and finally found water that could quench his thirst. She felt a little violated and proud at the same time, though she wanted to pat herself for making him uncomfortable, but then she looked amazed by the look of lust and need so clear in his eyes. She could read him like a book. Clear and so apparent. So…

Wow! He was a man, after all. Surprise!

Oblivious to the fact, Diana licked her lips and went poker-faced to hide the desire that surprisingly emerged from between her legs. She knew by now that she was so wet and desirable horny that she even imagined his lips on her, tasting her skin, down, down, and eating her with the same intensity in his eyes.

What the fuck? Sue her! She was human too, after all, and those wet sensations and silly imaginations were normal, right? And those thoughts of his lips licking her just made her human, right?

Oh, my God.

Diana cleared her throat. She knew he was watching her, and she would not want the embarrassment to go higher than she could tolerate. And the thought of his naked body was just a whisper of her imagination or memories, perhaps? She froze! Was she really thinking about all that?

Was she crazy?

Eww!

Flirt! You are seriously out of your mind, Diana. You are in a stranger's house, and yet you have the nerve to think about those lips warming up your skin and all?

Suddenly she remembered something, like some mist on her mind was lifted. 

She gasped, "Oh my God, the wood, the cabin. We, Oh!” She covered her mouth with her left hand, her eyes widening. “Fuck me. We, I mean, we, you, we—shit!" She closed her eyes. Those expert tongues and those

“What?” Andrew smirked. Even when she had a little command in her mind not to panic, still as wonderful as Diana, her mind lurked into him like a massive tidal wave, unavoidable and endless.

"Shit, I need to stop thinking," she murmured to herself and cringed. Hoping he did not hear her. But yeah, there were no thoughts, no focus, only desire and the ache of longing to just taste him.

She was so ashamed that even the idea of being a vampire was forgotten. Her immense embarrassment made her want to just melt into the soft mattress and die instead.

Oh, grandpa, take me now! I don't even care if I wore panties or not. I want to die now!

Wait, am I even wearing one?

Panicking, she wiggled her butt against the bed, slightly moaning when a beautiful need to continue whatever she was doing against the soft sheet told her she was more than horny. Realising that she was indeed wearing something, she thanked all the gods. But of course, she was embarrassed, yet she could not back down now; she was a warrior, and she could die with humiliation later. She wouldn't be phased. She would just act as if nothing happened, acting like she wasn't horny. But it was normal for a woman like her, right? Just act as if nothing happens. Right?

Like I didn't remember him licking me so eagerly, like I was like an ice cream cone, wet and sweet, and...dammit!

Enough little conscience; you are making things so difficult for me. But those tongues, those licked!

Oh my god, I'm going to hell.

“Nothing! Just—um, can you please give me more of that damn wine?"

Andrew smiled and poured her some more. Then she examined the glass, and recognition dawned on her face. "Oh bloody hell, Andrew, you are a vampire! Holy shit!" her eyebrows waggled. "You are telling the truth. This is blood, isn't it? I can—crap! Its really blood." She held the wineglass like it was a bomb, but she couldn't help herself; it was like a fire, calling for her. Like a sweet nectar of God, she brought it to her nose. She gasped. It was beautiful. It was heaven. It smelled like food.

Food?

Yeah, her brain agreed, and now she slowly began to process the notion of him being a vampire.

Oh my God, is Edward Collen real? Is Bella real? Holy crap!

"Yes!" answering her reverie, he rolled his eyes. It was making him dizzy; her mind had gear otherworldly. It was like watching dozens of movies at the same time. He sighed, massaged his head, and stared at her with half-closed eyes. He even knitted his brows as he began to push a little command on her mind not to panic and relax because her thoughts were giving him enough headaches to last for ages. She thought a thousand things at the same time for a mere second. Who on earth dies that fast? Yes, she was interesting, fascinating, and funny, but her gear was relentless.

"Oh! Really? You are a vampire; I'm a vampire, and this is blood?" she held back her tears. She wanted to cry, to laugh, to dance, eat, run, and sing—to just do something that could keep her mind from thinking—but for the love of God, she couldn't.

Oddly weird. Her headache was gone, and she felt like she had swallowed a sugar cube.

It made her feel alive and ready to kick someone's balls. With that, Andrew covered his crotch as if afraid that she would just do what she was thinking.

"Hell yes, Diana, you even lick the last drop of it, remember? And the blood of your grandfather from those vials, and I know you like it. You want it. You crave for it." He enunciated with a wink as his face softened with the small smile curving those lips. His voice stalled, and Diana's breath caught.

She breathed in, "Please tell me I'm still dreaming."

"Unfortunately, little mortal, you aren't dreaming anymore."

"Okay, so where is Tommy?"

“Tommy?”

“Yes.”

"The guy friend of yours?"

"Yes, and wait,” she frowned. “Where am I?" Now she was panicking again.

"You are at my mansion. And about your friend? I command him to go home and not to worry about you.”

“Tom won't leave me here alone with a stranger." Seriously? Command Tommy? Huh! That dick won't ever let anyone call him a nerd.

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't ask him, little mortal; I commanded him. So now, stop with your questions and follow me." How dare she doubt his ability?

"To where?" This man is confusing. One minute he's smiling, and the next he's like the hulk.

"Here on the vanity table, get your ass here; you need to check yourself for you to believe that I am a vampire and so are you. Now! Go on. See it for yourself.”

Trying to stand up, the silky blanket that covered her fell down the floor, and Andrew turned his head immediately, trying his hardest not to look at the beautiful smooth legs of the woman who invaded his dream every night, making him feel stupid like a high school boy with a hard-on.

"Diana, cover yourself, can you?" He blurred, walked to the vanity, and waited for her to check herself in the mirror.

What the fuck is wrong with him? I didn't even do anything yet, and he got mad? Such a bipolar ass.

"Jerk." He could have at least given her a hand. "Gentlemen, my ass," she murmured.

Surveying the massive room, she was surprised by its elegance.

Wow! This room is fit for the queen. It's like a suite in a five-star hotel. Damn! He is really Batman!

It was luxurious, intimate, and serene at the same time. The wall was covered in a sophisticated golden classic flower wallpaper that was fresh and inviting. The bedroom created a truly adult space with a soothing palette and enhanced views of the sky and water. Her bed was soft and inviting, with generous, luxurious linens. It deliberately used enormous squares on a scale that would emphasise the twelve-foot ceilings and repeat the squares in the French doors and leaded windows. The golden ivory and lace pattern curtains remind her of her grandmother's wedding dress and the way it hung so delicately from her old, neat frame. Last year, before her grandpa passed away, they renewed their marriage vow. It was a moment of clarity that they still adore each other.

Diana guessed it helped that the fabric was ivory with a touch of lace at the edges. The morning sunlight streamed through the gap, bringing the hope of a new day. Though the window was closed, she could smell the roses just outside. A smile spreads over her face. It wasn't the fragrance of those blooms she detected, but rose perfume on the drapes. How like Andrew it was to bring something of nature into his home. “It's beautiful…”

“Like you…” 

She looked at him and raised her brow. “Are you mocking me?” How could he even say that? She was asleep for a week. He thought he was beautiful. For all she cared, she was sure as hell; she got booger, dry saliva all over her face, and her hair resembled a bird's nest.

He frowned back. “Of course not—what made you think I was mocking you?”

She rolled her eyes and said, “Never mind." Stepping slowly, Diana saw the huge classic vanity in the left-side corner of the room. It was a perfect vanity that provided extra seating without taking up too much space, yet it looks so elegant and inviting.

Wow! He was not kidding when he said he was rich! Filthy rich indeed! Batman.

But what surprised her the most was the girl in the mirror. The girl looks like a goddess, a female of incredible beauty, grace, and charm, her once straight, boring dark hair becoming smooth, wild, and wavy, and her once dull brown eyes now glowed with a little amber in the edges. She looked rather fabulous and wonderful. Really Diana? You are describing yourself as a Barbie doll? So original! 

But yeah, her freckles were gone! Wow! Her face was smooth and creamy pale. "What the bloody heck? I feel like I've been in the Photoshop app. Am I seeing things?" she murmured as she touched her delicate face, her bouncy, shiny hair, and her amazing body. “Holy hell! I have abs! This is impossible.”

It seemed like everything was perfect.

One of Charlie’s angels—Wonder Woman—Barbie kind of perfect!

What the fuck! I am not complaining at all!

I am a vampire!

Holy shit!

I am Bella!