Sequel: Deceptive in Truth

Honest in Lies

12

Had it all been a dream? Or did that really happen? Candy let out a low groan, feeling the pain radiate through her body. Yep, it happened. Clenching her teeth, she tried to sit up. She was in her room, with the curtains drawn. It didn’t block out the sun, but most of it.

Something was covering her stomach, as well as her arm and her cheek. What the hell? She thought rudely as she moved from underneath the sheets. It was a mistake on her part. Candy was unable to support her weight and collapsed on the polished wooden floor.

Another groan; this time of pain escaped her. “What the fuck?” she cried out, looking down at her legs. The one that had given out to her first, had a nice long cut running down it. It looked infected, but she knew better then to assume that it was because of the stitches that were sewing it up finely. What happened? She propped up to one leg, struggling with even that. “Help,” she called out weakly.

A hand was lifting her up within seconds of her voice executing itself. She jumped violently at the coldness of the touch, to see that it was only Gaspard. His lovely eyes were full of fear and cautiousness. With ease he pulled Candy into his lap, her back resting on his knees. “Candy, Candy are you okay?” his voice was heavily accented with French.

“Where am I?” she asked groggily.

“You got hurt yesterday. By a werewolf. Pretty bad.”

“What day is it?”

“Wednesday,” he muttered, cradling her closely but not suffocating her.

“Am I dead?”

“No, but you’re hurt….” She felt him reposition her, checking over her bandages. “And need to be washed.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“Who?”

“Charles. I turned around,” she swallowed. “I didn’t want to leave him there alone. He would have died.”

He shushed her, rocking them slightly. “Its okay, its okay I’m not angry at you or Charles. Don’t worry about it,” he kissed her forehead softly. “Don’t worry about it, it’s over. It’s taken care of.”

“Is Charles okay?”

“Barely even a scratch,” he murmured, before hoisting himself and her up at the same time with ease. “We need to get your wounds washed.”

“No,” she opposed, groaning once again as he moved her down the staircase with ease and into the bathroom.

“It needs done, they might be infected. Come here,” he had positioned her so that she was still leaning against him put stood somewhat on her own.

Gaspard had slowly lifted her shirt over, to reveal several darkened bruises over her stomach and chest. Candy looked down at the marks, letting out a low whine of anxiety. Gaspard quieted her with his cooing. Her shorts slipped down too, as he began to draw her hot bath. The vampire picked her up softly bridal style, and lowered her with caution into the warm water. She winced and grimaced as it sloshed over her.

“What happened?” she whispered as he crouched next to her, waiting for the water to fill.

Candy turned to look at him, his eyes looking sadly at the faucet. “….Charles fought to protect you. After that werewolf swiped you, that are how you got that,” his hand wavered along the cut on her leg. “You hit your head on a rock, which is why you probably have been sleeping for so long, and have headaches. The bruises…I don’t know how they got there..You must just bruise easily.”

“Gaspard….?”

“Hm?” he answered, dragging his eyes from the faucet.

“What happened to the rest of me?” she whispered, as he sighed deeply.

“He…the…the dog got to you after he handicapped Charles and before Theo could have gotten there…he….he bit you and clawed you.”

“Am I dead?” she asked as he removed the remaining bandages; over her stomach, arm and face. What stood in the place of the bandages were sickly gashes that were long and deep. The colors ranged from a dark red to a pink flesh. “Am I going to become a werewolf?”

Gaspard shook his head, solemnly. “No. he’d need to have bitten you on a full moon.”

The water had started to lap at her lovingly. That was the end of the conversation, Gaspard getting soap and started to lather and massage delicately over her sore spots. A low moan of relief came from her as the knots in her body started to disappear. His hands were soft and calming over her pale skin, tingles and shivers running through her every time he touched her. Gaspard was humming softly, more to himself than to Candy. The water was hot now, leaving steam to evaporate and clear her senses. And then it was over, over as soon as she was beginning to really relax.

When the water had dwindled down to nothing, he placed a soft towel around her, lifting her from the marble. He was somehow cold, but still pertained warmth. Candy felt sleep finding her again, and balled her hands into fists as she clenched his shirt. “Don’t go,” she whispered softly.

Gaspard had stopped walking; now standing at the top of the stairs. His eyebrows knitted dangerously, before he started walking again. While still holding her, he pulled the sheets back, laying her with the towel still wrapped around her. He heeded her warning though, and didn’t leave her. He moved slowly to the other side of the bed, crawling underneath the pink sheets. Once he was settled, he pulled her gently against his chest, arm wrapping gently around her torso.

Candy let herself fall onto his chest, nuzzling her head into the mixture of pillow and of his body. The reaction it caused was soft and hard. Fighting off sleep was become inevitable now. She felt Gaspard’s head softly come to rest on top of her. She yawned, snuggling deeper into the sheets. What she heard before her mind drifted into sleep was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to her. “vous êtes beau.”
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