REVELATION 8.2

"Okay, okay, I'm pulling over..." Cole raised a hand in surrender, "for fuck's sake," he'd breathed but did as I asked. We turned off the main road and onto the small estate; his apartment building was on with a huff. He parked his car snuggly against the curb past the T junction and let his hands fall from the wheel in resignation.

I could tell he was expecting me to jump out and leg it, but I didn't; I had always had something else in mind when I made my request. Unclipping my seat belt, I acted quickly and climbed over the centre console and into his lap. My back hit the steering wheel as I positioned myself, and if he hadn't looked surprised by my bold behaviour before, he certainly did when my bum honked the car horn on my way down into his lap.

He gasped my name in shock, but I was glad when he instinctively took me by the waist.

"Oops." I bit my lower lip - my way of apologising for the racket as cutely as possible.

Before he could say another word, I made my move. With his face between my hands, I kissed him. I kissed him as if I were moments from death, and his lips could keep me alive.

At first, he didn't refuse me and met my lips eagerly, but I felt his passion falter and sensed something occur to him. Taking hold of my wrists, Cole backed away from my face. I whimpered and blinked open my grey eyes to find his, staring at me through the dark with a contrite expression.

"Just in case," I whispered as an excuse. I hated how vulnerable I felt, and I remember contemplating begging him to screw me one last time.

His gentle tone caught me off guard when he asked, "Just in case what, Ana?"

"In case you change your mind about not hating me."

He sighed again, chest-fallen, the look on his face tainted with sadness. "You're the one most likely to change your mind,"

"What would I change my mind about?" I stroked my thumb over his lips as my fingers still spanned his strong jawline.

"I told you I would explain once we got to my place, but we haven't made it there yet."

"As ominous and sexy as you've made that sound, I say we press pause for a minute. Before we make this more complicated, can't we just..." I let what I said linger to imply my meaning, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. I wanted him one last time, even if it was in his car. "Because even though it was the first one-night stand I'd ever had and I was insanely nervous, it was easy because we knew nothing about each other; we had no expectations then."

"Ana, I want yo-"

"Then have me." I interrupted.

Even if I couldn't believe how bold I was being, I felt brave. I let go of his face, stroked my hands down his torso quickly, and unfastened the button of his jeans before he could stop me, but he did stop me. With my wrists recaptured in his strong hands, he found my eyes again.

"Ana, I can't do that. I... I don't want you to feel like I've tricked you."

An involuntary and desperate whine hummed past my lips at what he had said. I was aching for him to ravage me and make me feel like he had the first time back when it was simpler.

"Tricked me? What're you talking about?"

At the time, as I stared into his dark eyes through the night, I didn't know what I was witnessing, but the way his expression altered was him making a decision; he bit the bullet and explained.

"I'm not thirty-two or thirty-four." He started.

"Alright?"

"I'm sixty-six."

"What? No, you're not. You can't b-"

Cole watched as the realisation that what he had said was true hit me. My face dropped. The man before me didn't look sixty at all, but I suddenly remembered my cousin Elia. She looked as youthful as me but was well in her eighties. Could it be that Cole was also not mortal, and that was why he did not mind that I was not either?

"You - You mean you're not Mortal either?"

"No, I'm not."

"I mean... Sixty-six versus thirty-something is a lot bigger of an age gap." I paused, taking a moment to process. "...but still, if you're like me, then I don't have a reason to care, right? Right?" I didn't want to be a hypocrite.

"But I'm not like you, Ana." Cole closed his eyes for a moment and hung his head. "You've watched the news. The reported kill count speaks for itself, but for most, it's an ugly truth. And as much as I hope you won't see me differently, I know you will, but I still have to tell you..."

"Tell me what? What do you mean?" I asked. I couldn't deny what he said; his tone of voice scared me, and he still held my wrists.

"Ana, according to the media in the city, which Mythical is the most threatening to the Mortal population?" Cole's eyes appeared cold for the first time as they met mine, and the gravity of what he was telling me became clear.

For months, all over the news and newspapers, a vivid picture of a race so bloodthirsty their only purpose was to drain the lifeblood from every unassuming person they came across. Out of all the newly discovered races, they were the most dangerous because even demons could only prey on contracted victims.

Today's Lycanthropes and werepeople were not nearly as uncivilised as they were fabled to be; they no longer hunted humans for sport. Centuries ago, laws came into force within covens of witches and warlocks, decreeing they were no longer allowed to bewitch or cast magik on mortals for their benefit.

The race Cole was referring to wasn't as discriminatory in their choice of prey. They were unstoppable and prolific, their strength limitless, their appetite deadly, and they disguised themselves as mortals so adeptly that they were almost impossible to root out. Nothing could dissuade them from violence. The stigma surrounding the particular predator had always existed. Especially in literature, where it was the only place they existed until recently. In the imagination of decades of writers, they were depicted numerous ways, but one thing that was always agreed upon was how diabolical they were. Was I sitting right in the lap of one?

"You're a Vampire?" I asked, forcing my voice not to tremble.

How could someone I felt so safe around, someone who had been so gentle and kind and tender towards me, be something so innately bloodthirsty and savage?

It doesn't make sense.

In reply, Cole said nothing, but he stared hard into my eyes, opened his lips and bared his fangs for me to see. They drew like daggers into the hollow of his mouth, a mouth which I had eagerly explored with mine only minutes before. The sharp intake of breath I took was instinctual and portrayed my fear. Afterall, I was also his prey; I was built to fear him. That was when it occurred to me that my attraction to him could have been entirely artificial. Perhaps it was just his predatory lure? I was meant to be enticed into a false sense of security by his pheromones, and even how he looked was a trap to make his procurement of my blood easier.

My reaction pained him. I saw the emotion flash through his eyes before he looked back down into our laps in defeat. He let go of my wrists and sighed.

"I had to tell you. I knew I had to be transparent if I ever wanted to see you again."