"Does good and evil exist?" Christopher asked, searching my eyes, looking for something I didn't think I possessed.
"I believe so," I answered, nodding.
He kissed my neck, and sat up, crossing his well-defined legs. I wasn't ready to be done kissing him, drinking from him, but I wanted to know where he was going with his question. Reluctantly, I lifted myself from my prostrate position, and crossed my legs so I sat opposite him on the bed.
We were still in the castle, in another realm. Lush throw pillows were pushed to the floor, and surrounded us like piranha stalking its food.
Until a few moments ago, I'd been too busy enjoying the taste of Chace aka Christopher aka my Hunter, and hadn't cared about anything else. Now that he'd spoken, lots of unanswered questions surfaced.
Like, what was the name of this realm? Why did he keep bringing me here, and where exactly was here?
Christopher seized my hand. "Sweet, beautiful, Snow," he said, caressing my knuckles. "In my years serving the Queen, I've learned one thing. Words like good and evil are relative terms."
"What do you mean? To kill someone is evil." I crossed my arms, waiting to hear how he'd BS his way out of that.
"What if that someone is the enemy in a war? It's kill or be killed. Would he be considered evil for protecting himself, his loved ones, his home, his country?"He grinned sweetly, running his fingers along my jaw.
My mouth fell open. I wanted to say yes, but Professor Pops had explained I would be learning how to kill supernatural creatures-that we were on the brink of war. If I killedto protect myself, would that make me evil?
"Ugh, okay. Where are you going with this?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
He chuckled, and climbed off the bed, readjusting his clothes. When he finished, he grabbed my hand, pulling me onto my feet.
"In Buddhism," he began, "good and evil don't exist, per say. Instead there is kusala and akusala. Kusala is considered to be, intelligence, contented, beneficial, and a remover of affliction. Akusala is, quite simply, the opposite. Or, unintelligent, causer of affliction, and so on. Which boils down to this. What is evil to one person may be good to another. Life and everything in it is about your perception."
Christopher's words echoed in my mind. I wanted him to explain further, but a sudden, and infuriating beeping interrupted.
My alarm clock.
Upon opening my eyes, my Hunter, and the other realm vanished. With a sigh, I reached over, shut off the clock, and rolled onto my back. I hadn't slept. At least I didn't think so. The entire night spent with my Hunter. We hadn't done more than talk, kiss, and bite each other's necks, but the experience left me breathless. It'd been intimate.
I tried to imagine bringing Christopher into my silly little girls' room, and flushed. Lavender walls held up posters of bunnies, kittens, and puppies. Across from me was my chest of drawers, also lavender, and atop it sat unused perfume bottles. Above it hung a corkboard filled with pictures of Cindy and me, as well as pictures of my best friends-the guys. To the left of my dresser was my bathroom, and next to that, on the same wall, lived my closet.
"Ugh, I'm so over purple," I muttered, climbing out of bed, and heading into the bathroom where bright purple towels hung on a rack next to a bright purple shower curtain. I turned on the water, and undressed while the water warmed. Stepping in, I let the warm water soothe away my tension.
I couldn't help thinking about the past four days. In that time I'd managed to become a revenant-not quite human, not quite vampire. I'd slept in the same bed with Gabe; one of my best friends whom I'd developed a crush on. Nearly bitten Dorian. And, kissed, drank, and kissed some more, my Hunter.
I wasn't that kind of girl; well, I hadn't been for the past fifteen and a half years. Sure, I'd had sleepovers with all seven brothers in the past, but still... I'd never felt such lustful cravings or been so wanton as I was with Chace aka Christopher. He'd brought out feelings in me... needs I hadn't realized I'd been missing. At the thought of him touching me, kissing me, whispering tenderly to me, my belly fluttered, and I groaned.
"I don't have time for this," I grumbled, rinsing off, and getting out of the shower.
I dressed in faded jeans, a red Ed Hardy t-shirt with a dragon slithering across the front, and my Converse. In the full-length mirror near my closet, I noticed several bruises on my neck, and stepped closer for a better look. In the center of the bruises were twin marks closed over by scar tissue.
No one had been able to see marks after Christopher bit me the first time, but I wasn't so sure about the bruises. Going to my dresser, I pulled open the top drawer, and took out a silk and cashmere scarf in baby blue. My dad and stepmother gaveit to me for Christmas last year because they said it matched my eyes. After wrapping it around my neck several times so the bruises were hidden, I stared at my reflection.
"Today is going to be a regular day." I snorted. It couldn't get any weirder. I'd become a blood drinking supernatural creature for crying out loud. "Ugh! Come on, kitty," I grumbled, opening my bedroom door. Gatsby stretched, jumped off my bed, and followed me downstairs.
As I entered the kitchen, a brief knock sounded at the back door, followed by Heathcliff, Bart, Gabe, and Dorian. They were a breath of fresh air, full of exuberance, and raw energy.
"Hey, Snow," Dorian said, closing the door behind him.
Gabe carried a large book. He held it like its contents were leprous, and I had to grin. "Hi, guys."
Heathcliff and Bart returned my greeting as they made themselves at home, rummaging through my fridge and cupboards, grumbling about how I had nothing good to eat. Bart started a pot of coffee, and Heathcliff, ever the responsible one, put some water on for my tea.
I quickly got Gatsby his kibble and some water. When the cat was happily eating, I turned my attention to Gabe. "What ya got there?" I sat on a bar stool and swiveled closer.
He glanced around sheepishly before heaving the book on the counter. Moments before I saw the cover up close, I'd imagined it to be a book from Professor Pops' Museum of the Supernatural, and worried Gabe stole it. Turned out to be nothing mystical. Just a book of dresses by the designer, Vera Wang.
I wasmost definitely not a fashionista. On the contrary, I didn't even really know what the word meant, only that Cindy used it a lot when showing me clothes from her magazines, but I had heard of Vera Wang, and knew she was a big time designer.