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[i]”Well it’s not like I know when you did the deed but I did have an odd feeling earlier, just out of nowhere. A strange numbness, a slight feeling of something tearing internally, as if perhaps I was going to die. a brief moment of cold and then nothing. Everything went back to normal after that,”[/i] Bartholomew explained. He looked upset. That was probably her fault, she was being unfair, wasn’t she? Well, life isn’t fucking fair sometimes.

Still, this was her soulmate and, as fun as it was to antagonize him, it hurt her to be causing him [i]real[/i] pain. Trixy didn’t apologize though. Instead, she chewed on her bottom lip and stared into her whiskey. Tholo took a drink from his own glass and sighed before speaking.

[i]”I guess that bastard wasn’t lying when he called me son,”[/i] he punctuated it with a frustrated grunt and then followed up with, [i]”Maybe he turned me, but it doesn’t matter to me. He wanted to kill me, not turn me that night, I’m pretty certain of that. The only thing that matters is his corpse will rot where it belongs along with others like him.”[/i]

Béatrix dipped her head in a slow nod, as if processing what he was saying. They were honest words, but they offered little comfort. Trixy let out a deep sigh and lifted the glass to quickly down the rest of the whiskey in her glass. It felt like fire, but at least it felt like something. She looked across the table at her soul mate. It still didn’t seem real… not the sorrow or the rape this time, but the fact that he was hers. And as much as she had wanted to hate him, and how much this situation sucked, she still found herself falling in love with this man.

Slowly, Trixy reached her hand across the table. She rested her cool fingers on top of his hand and stared intensely at it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she initiated the touching. She didn’t flinch this time, so that was a start.