Blurred Memories Read Online Free PDF

With a grunt, he climbed into the back
seat. His annoyance receded when Kate flashed him a smile and
asked, “Mind if I use you as a pillow?”
    Blake didn’t mind at
all.
    Marc started the car again,
and Kate lay down across the back seat, her knees close to her
chest, her cheek resting on Blake’s thigh. She cupped Blake’s knee
in her hand, and that small, innocent touch sent a pang of need
through him. He reached behind him, pulling the old blanket they
kept in the back over her. Usually, it served as protection against
the sun, but for once it could offer warmth.
    With a quiet little hum of
thanks, Kate rubbed her cheek against Blake’s thigh. Her eyes were
already closed. Blake returned his arm to laying against the back
seat. He wanted to rest his hand on her so much that his fingers
felt like they were cramping as he struggled to keep them still,
but he couldn’t make himself touch her. Not like this.
    It was fine if she touched
him, or if she or Marc drew Blake’s hands to her, but for Blake to
lay a hand on her, however much he craved that touch, was beyond
him. It didn’t matter that he knew nothing would happen if
he did—nothing bad. His mind believed it, but his body still
recalled punishments, too many to count, some doled out on him and
some on Kate. The memories were enough to keep his hand
still.
    Unaware of Blake’s quandary,
Kate had fallen asleep already. Looking down, Blake could see her
face, relaxed and peaceful: beautiful. The blanket that covered her
rose and fell with every breath she took. Such a small thing, and
yet so comforting, too.
    In that other place he had
checked on her so often—checked that she was still breathing, still
alive—that it had become second nature to him. Ever since she had
moved in with him and Marc, he had lost count of how many times he
had woken at night and listened to her heartbeat, or shifted a
little closer to her so he could feel her breath against his cheek
or her chest pressing rhythmically against his back.
    He closed his eyes after a
while, let the rhythm of Kate’s heart and the rocking of the car
lull him into sleep.
    The dream started soon
after.
     
    * * * *
     
    “ She’s very pretty. I see
why you like her so much.”
    Blake didn’t respond to the
taunting, nor did he move. His knees, his legs, his back, and his
entire body ached from kneeling for so long, but he was past the
point of pain. Past the point of grief, too. Part of him wanted to
cry, scream, or try to avenge Kate. He wouldn’t succeed, of course;
he was too weak for that, having been starved for what felt like an
eternity. He could barely remember the last time he had been
offered a few drops of blood from his Master’s wrist. His mind felt
slow, blurry, as though a deep fog made it hard to look at memories
or form new thoughts.
    “ But maybe you don’t like
her,” his Master continued in the same mocking tone. “Maybe it’s
more than that. After all, you’re not a true vampire anymore, are
you? True vampires don’t kneel like slaves, or beg to be fed. They
don’t love mortal women, either.”
    His Master punctuated that
claim with a kick to Kate’s lifeless body. Blake couldn’t stop
himself from flinching. He wanted to close his eyes or look away,
but his Master’s warning still echoed in his mind: keep watching,
or lose your eyes.
    Maybe being blind would be
better than seeing this, but if he were blind, Blake would never
find a way to escape. He had tried to figure it out for so long,
thought about it so hard… Part of him was convinced that, if he had
been his normal self, if his head didn’t feel like it was filled
with cotton, he would have found a way to escape long ago. He also
would have understood how Kate could be dead on those cold stones
now and yet how she would undoubtedly return within a few days; she
had died many times, but she had always returned to pay for Blake’s
mistakes again.
    His Master came to stand
right in front of Blake, blocking