"Why me?" she asked, her eyes searching my face.
"It's my fault. If you hadn't met me, this never would have happened," I said miserably.
Violet shook her head. "Or maybe I'd be dead in a London ditch. You were my friend. You showed me the world. If I have to die, at least I had those days of magic," she said shyly.
"Thank you," I said. I thought back to when we met. There was no way I would have ever forgiven myself if I'd just walked away when Alfred yel ed at her in the tavern. "That's very kind. But please know I only did what anyone would do, Violet."
"I don't believe that," she said firmly. "You're a true friend."
"And you are, too. I'l always remember you."
A slow smile crossed Violet's face. "You'l always remember me? Even in two hundred years?"
"Yes," I replied. I had no doubt. I wanted good memories of Violet, wanted to remember the courageous resolve she'd shown even in the face of her own death. "You're one in a mil ion. And you're someone I could never, ever forget." Gratitude gleamed in Violet's eyes. "Thank you," she said in a smal voice. "May I ask you a favor?" I nodded. I knew if I spoke, my voice would crack, and I didn't want to cry in front of Violet. I didn't want her to know how terrified I was.
"Could you . . . kiss me?" she whispered, embarrassed. "It's just that I've never had a proper kiss. And I don't want to die without ever being kissed. Please?"
Once again, I found my heart breaking for this girl. She had so much life left to live. I nodded, grasping her tiny, delicate hand and pul ing her into me. I leaned down and al owed my lips to graze hers in a sweet, innocent kiss.
Violet broke the kiss and shyly met my gaze.
"Thank you," she said. "That was perfect."
"Don't thank me," I mumbled. In that moment, I felt something as close to peace as I'd felt in years.
I glanced at the sky to avoid looking at her. Clouds were rol ing in toward the river down below, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before the heavens opened up.
I hurried Violet down the hil without a backward glance. The rain would come soon, causing the grounds to sparkle with condensation. I loved rainstorms, their ability to wash everything away and make everything smel clean and innocent. I only wished the rain could wash away my sins.
Chapter Sixteen
When I was growing up, kissing was a game that we started to play when we found tag to be too childlike. It was a persion, an amusement, and caused our hearts to race at an otherwise boring picnic. I'd shared kisses with Clementine Haverford, Amelia Hawke, Rosalyn Cartwright, and all my other childhood playmates. Kissing was pleasant, but never life-changing.
But then, I kissed Katherine Pierce, and nothing was ever the same. It was as if those other kisses were mere shadows of the ecstasy I felt when Katherine's lips were near mine. When I was surrounded by her heady scent of lemon and ginger, I was guided purely by instinct. I would do anything for a kiss.
And, of course, it was that unquenchable desire that had changed my entire life. Katherine was like Helen of Troy, launching an eternity of destruction. And yet, I knew that if I ever did find myself close to death, I would close my eyes and imagine Katherine's lips brushing mine.
Violet wanted something I couldn't give her. She wanted love, and all I had was my affection. But maybe that was better than desire. Desire, after all, was the very thing that killed me.
In autumn, thick rain clouds often hung low in the Ivinghoe sky, casting the entire farm in a gloomy, dusklike fog no matter what the time of day.
Today was no exception. The beautiful morning had given way to an evening heavy with the promise of rain and in the semidarkness of my cabin, I was watching Violet grow weaker and weaker. Here, it was just us and Death, a powerful third party in my vigil over Violet.
"Please, Stefan!" Violet said, thrashing from side to side as she woke. I hastily dipped a compress in water and held it against her forehead. My knees were stiff, and I knew I must have been sitting in the same position for hours, but I didn't want to leave her side for even an instant. I couldn't tel whether her screams were the result of a fever dream or a sign that she was returning to a hazy half-consciousness.
Violet's eyes, when they opened, were cloudy as unshaken milk. She squinted, trying to focus on me.
"Stefan, please! Please just kil me. End it now," she gasped, her breathing sounding like a rusty saw cutting against metal. Whitish froth had col ected at the corners of her mouth and her arms were covered with scratches from when she'd clawed at her skin in her sleep, as if wanting to escape her own body. I'd stopped her as best I could, but she stil looked like she'd run through a bramble patch. Now, she no longer had energy to thrash, and al she could focus on was blinking and breathing.
I shook my head dul y. I wished I could do what she asked of me - to end her agony and bring her peace. But no matter how much she begged, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I'd promised to myself over and over again that I'd never kil another human. It was selfish, perhaps, but al I could do was try to make her comfortable in her last moments.
"Please!" she cried, her voice a half-shriek. An owl hooted in the distance. Nighttime was when the creatures of the forest came out. I could smel their blood and hear their heartbeats. And while Violet couldn't hear them as profoundly as I did, I knew she could sense their presence as wel .
"Soon you'l be somewhere better," I said, hoping upon hope that I was tel ing her the truth. "Soon you'l be at peace. And it wil be better than here or London - better than Ireland, even. It wil be better than anywhere you or I could imagine."