Page 127 of Bleed

“You could’ve told me,” I grumble. “I thought I was losing my fucking mind.”

“I know.”

“And you kept doing it, even after I moved in.”

“Yes,” he replies bluntly. “I felt compelled to keep an eye on you. I followed when you left, and watched you at the penthouse through the video surveillance system.”

“You… what? Oh my god.”

I shove against his chest, and this time, he lets me push him away. I take several steps backwards, wrapping my arms around myself as I pace through the damp grass, everything I thought I understood about the last month rearranging itself inside my head.

Vincent, Elliott, the contract. The bite, the bond.

I stop, pivoting back toward him. “Why are you here now?”

“I wanted to see you,” he answers, voice low.

I hate how my chest tightens. How for a second, that alone feels like reason enough.

“So you just stand out here and stare through the fucking windows rather than actually coming to check on me?” I huff, gesturing toward the mansion. “Or did you just come to finish what you started?”

His head snaps up, gaze darkening. “No.”

I flinch at his tone, even though his anger doesn’t seem like it’s directed at me. More at himself, horror and guilt evident in his expression as he holds my stare.

“I never intended to hurt you, Beatrix,” he rasps.

“Well, you did,” I snap.

His Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow. “I know, and I deeply regret it.” He drags a hand through his hair, turning away for a moment before pivoting to face me again. “I lost control,” he growls, a pained look flashing across his face. “There’s no justification for my actions.”

“Then why haven’t you come to tell me that?” I demand, throwing my arms out dramatically. “I’ve been right fucking here, Elliott. For days. And you couldn’t even walk through the door?”

His brows draw in. “I was giving you time.”

“I didn’t ask for time,” I snap.

“You needed to heal.”

“You still could’ve checked on me.”

He draws a measured breath, gaze dropping to my throat. “I… didn’t trust myself with you.”

There it is.

My hand instinctively rises to the bandage that’s no longer there, fingertips brushing the healed skin where his fangs tore into me a few days ago.

Elliott looks away. “I still don’t,” he mumbles quietly.

My anger dissipates as that familiar ache blooms behind my ribs again. “Then why are you here?” I ask, my voice breaking.

His eyes return to mine, and for the first time since I’ve known him, he looks… unsure. Not irritated, not infuriatingly calculating, but genuinely lost.

“I’ve always had this hunger,” he admits, holding my gaze. “When I was turned, I received all the usual gifts. Speed, strength, immortality. But I developed another ability as well. A rare one. Enhanced cognition."

“Super brain,” I grumble.

He jerks a nod. “Essentially. Vampires call it Sapientia. My capacity for learning, memory, pattern recognition, information retention… all of it is heightened beyond what would otherwise be possible.”