Chapter Eighteen
It's Monday and the hot noon sun is the only thing that feels good while I'm on this fucking motorcycle. We're going up a mountain trail, and even though Gideon modified the tires and Christ knows what else, I feel every bump of rock and lurch of earth. I thought my body couldn't hurt worse than what I felt after fighting Frankie. Boy, was I wrong.
We stopped along the way once, at a gas station. While Gideon got me some clothes, I washed off the worst of the blood and checked myself out. So I know I look like roadkill in addition to feeling like it, too.
It's been two hours of riding since that stop, on winding dirt roads dipping us up and down toward the final rise of Red Devil Mountain. The trees here are huge but sparse, and the motorcycle's tires kick up the red, powdery earth in a trail that can probably be seen for miles. The pack has to know someone is coming to meet them.
But aside from the occasional turkey vulture circling in the sky, there's no sign of movement. I try to relax against Gideon, wanting to save my small amount of energy left for when I need to talk. It's hard getting any rest, though; straddling the motorcycle hurts like hell, and I keep shifting in my seat to ease the pressure there. And every time I move, the bite above my collar bone, the bad one that barely scabbed over, pulls dangerously, threatening to split open and bleed again. At least the rest of the bite marks faded to fresh scars, merely tender and itchy whenever my shirt rubs against them.
I'm not sure how long it is before light flickers in the corner of my eye, drawing my attention. Raising my head from Gideon's shoulder, I watch ink scrawl along his arm, turning his skin into a map of our path. The road we're on is a glowing line of blue, brighter for the parts we haven't reached yet. After the turn ahead, there are five orange dots clustered together, steady, waiting. Heartbeats, I realize, watching them pulse.
As we slow down around the final curve, my arms tighten around Gideon. He shifts enough to brush his hand over mine, but doesn't look away from the road. Neither of us do, because there they are, blocking the way just far enough to let us slow down and stop in time to avoid crashing. The motorcycle shuts off with a whisper, and I suck in a deep breath while easing off it, glad that Gideon's jacket hides my bite marks. The last thing I want to do is look weak.
When he moves up beside me, I manage a smile at him, trying to show more confidence than I feel. We already decided how to approach this, that it's better if I do the talking since I was the one invited up here. So, after a last glance between us, we walk the final couple of feet to meet what has to be the Red Devil Mountain pack.
Three women stand in a half-circle in front of a rusted truck, the engine sprites still grumbling. I don't want to stare, so the only detail I can make out is that all of them have the same thick, wavy, impossible-to-control hair as I do. Must be a family curse. There's also a burly white man in the driver's seat of the truck, the dark scruff on his face making his angry blue-green eyes stand out. Another stranger to me, but I can already tell I wouldn't want to sit next to him on a long bus ride. The last of the group is Desmond Healy, reddish hair picking up the sunlight while he leans against the hood of the truck.
Before I can decide who to focus on, the woman in the middle steps forward. Her hair looks as dark as mine, but her face is lined with hard years lived; I'm guessing she's in her forties. She's dressed in worn jeans and beat-up cowboy boots, but the way she stands drips with more authority than any suit could give her.
She looks me over as carefully as I do with her, and whatever she sees makes the grim line of her mouth twitch. "Well?"
With that one word, I recognize her voice. I'm looking at my aunt, Maya. "I'm Phoenix Belmonte. This is Gideon Glass. We're hoping to visit with someone from your pack."
Before I can say more, there's a yelp from the woman on Maya's right, and then she jumps forward. She's one of the most beautiful people I've ever seen, with brilliant copper eyes that stand out against her flawless skin, and the kind of body that can take the simple, sleeveless summer dress she wears and turn it into breezy sexiness. Unlike Maya, she's smiling widely and keeping her gaze non-direct. "Oh, Maya, I told you she must look just like Inez! Phoenix, we waited so long to see you. I'm Nohemi, one of your aunts. Your youngest aunt."
"Oh. Hi," I say, getting flustered as she stands there, obviously trying her hardest not to reach out and grab me into a hug. Despite myself, I glance at Gideon. But he's looking past Nohemi, ink flickering tensely, and when I follow his gaze, I see the two men are both staring back. Desmond lost his grin, and the other guy shows his teeth.
The woman on Maya's left twists around to see what we're looking at. When she notices the other man's fangs are out, she snaps, "Rhys!" The metal studs in her black leather jacket wink in the sunlight as she stalks over to him, the rest of her words hissing out too quietly for me to hear.
"Nevermind him," says Maya, taking a step closer to draw my attention back to her. "He's not pack. Just a brute Odalis likes to run with."
"She's your final aunt, and just as eager to see you as the rest of us. Really," adds Nohemi, her smile tinged with an apology as they argue louder.
Desmond gets out of their way, moving closer as his eyes flick between me and Gideon. His head tilts to one side, like he's puzzling over something.
"Desmond Healy is part of the pack, though, right?" I say, feeling sweat run down my back.
Maya studies me, and when she speaks, her voice sounds genuinely curious. "What do you want with Des?"
"I'd like to know that myself," he says, slipping into the space left by Odalis. Away from the stuffy atmosphere of a government waiting room, his smile looks flippant instead of full-out sleazy, but my shoulders tense up, anyway. I don't know if this is how all male wolves are or what, but his entire presence is an exclamation point of sexual power. Maybe that makes some people want to melt, but it only rubs me raw. If he even tries to flirt, I'll sink my teeth into whatever body part I can reach. Gideon brushes my elbow while moving around to my other side, keeping himself as a buffer between me and Desmond.
Desmond only glances at him, grin widening enough to show a flash of teeth. He enjoys this, and that's what gets me shaking, seeing red at the idea that someone else wants to play with me like a doll.
But as soon as he takes another step, Maya and Nohemi both lunge and snap at him, clouds of dust swirling up as they send him scrambling back. Maya returns to me right away, but Nohemi snarls, "Ease off, bobo. She's not used to other wolves."
For a few seconds, the only sound is my own panting. Odalis and Rhys stopped fighting, and now stand with the rest of the pack. No one watches me directly, but I still feel the entire pack's attention, as unflinching and fierce as the sun beating down on us.
"Phoenix?" Gideon's voice sounds very quiet, almost a murmur, as his hand brushes mine.
I know what he asks; if he should move ahead, pull some of the attention over to himself. "Go on. I need a minute."
He glances at Maya. "A full explanation would take hours. The long and the short of it is, Mr. Healy is being blamed for two murder streaks. One in the Kingdom, where his partner is believed to be Edmund Scheer, and one here in Necali, where his partner is believed to be Phoenix."
"Lies and slander," says Desmond, back by the truck. "I knew Scheer, sure, but he didn't have enough brains to build a scheme like that. Neither do I."
"Don't matter," says Rhys. His shoulders are bunched up with tension, but Odalis rubs one, her hand easy and soothing despite their earlier fight. It seems to keep him calmer than before. "Those Blue Balls fucks have been trying to tag wolves for years; all they need is an excuse like this to finally get a law passed."
I move close enough to Gideon to whisper, "That can't be a real name."
"It's a derisive term for Blue Bells, a political faction that has dominated Kingdom politics for the last twenty years," he murmurs back.
Desmond rests his chin on his hand in an exaggerated show of thoughtfulness. "Now who's the fuck that's been their party boss for the last twenty years? Always forget his name. You know, the one who helped his businessman friend avoid trouble for combing through orphanages to find wolf pups to work in his mines? Can't break child labor laws when the only children they recognize are little humans, yeah?"
Rhys picks up on the game. "I know who you're talking about. The one who backed all those pedigree cattle farmers that wanted a law letting them shoot wolves on sight, whether they're wearing fur or not. What is the bastard's name?"
"You're both being fools," says Maya, cutting short their act. "His name is Arthur Glass. Relation of yours, boy?"
Shock shoots through me as I glance at Gideon again. The line of his jaw looks tense as he keeps his gaze on a safe spot near Maya's shoulder, but when he speaks, his voice sounds only even. "He's my father."
Fuck. This situation just got a lot more complicated. "What does that mean, tagging wolves?'"
I look toward Rhys while asking the question, since he's the one that brought it up. He gives me a smirk. "What's the matter, didn't your boy tell you his father is Arthur Glass, a political figure hated by every skin witch living in the Kingdom? The latest idea he's backing against wolves is real nice; a chip put in under the skin, between the shoulder blades. Just like they do for their fucking hounds. We'd be unable to travel without being tracked. Unable to work any spells. Unable to even change to wolf."
Those last words come out as a snarl. Odalis' hand tightens on his shoulder, but she doesn't say anything, and the look she gives Gideon isn't reassuring. Nohemi eyes us uncertainly, and Maya remains expressionless. Yeah, this isn't going anywhere good.
"Gideon," I say, quietly, trying to get his attention without letting my nerves show. "Maybe we should get out of here. Those guys are ready to rip out your throat any second."
He looks at me as soon as I speak, but my heart sinks at his stubborn expression. He's not about to be scared off.
Before he can say anything, Desmond's voice drifts between us. "Everyone pays attention to an inker's report. How much evidence did Daddy Glass get you to plant to help his cause?"
"None. You're looking at the situation in the wrong way. He has made influential connections in INKtech through me, yes, but not because I work for his cause." Gideon doesn't show anything on his face, but my mind still flashes back to something he told me. How had he put it? That his family had given INKtech permission to use his body for an experiment. Was that why? Because giving INKtech a great test subject meant this Arthur Glass had a favor owed to him? One greased path to a goal for another. What a cold-hearted fuck. It's enough to make me growl, but the sound is lost under Maya's words.
"If not with your help, then how?" she says, taking a closer look at Gideon.
"Does it matter? The only important detail is that I've broken off with INKtech completely, regardless of what my family expects." His eyes meet hers for the first time, and I hiss in a breath as a ripple of tension goes through the rest of the pack at the challenge.
Quickly, I step forward, putting myself between him and Maya. "Look, we're not here to make trouble. I just want you to know what's coming your way."
Rhys snorts. "You really think we weren't aware? Both Des and me were dragged into Glimmer last week so inkers could interrogate us."
I give him a smile that shows all my teeth. "Maybe I just want to make sure. You seem to forget things so easily."
Desmond laughs at that, but Rhys looks pissed off. Before he can reply, I turn to Gideon, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Let's get out of here."
Nohemi makes a disappointed noise, jerking forward like she wants to grab me by the jacket to keep me from leaving. "You can't go already; we barely even talked."
Then she glances at her sisters, as if encouraging them to join in voicing their disappointment. They don't. She tries again. "But there's so much to know. Odalis, I can't believe you, you're the first one to throw out that tired old saying about how blood tells you a little while deeds show you everything. You use it for Rhys often enough. And Maya! All that anger you kept over losing Phoenix; where's it gone? You'll just stand there while she leaves?"
"I did when her mother made the same mistakes."
That gets me bristling, but before I can turn my back on them, Gideon says, "Wait. Are you taking back your invitation to her now that you're aware of me?"
"Nope," says Maya. "You're the problem, not her. She can stay with us as long as she wants."
As soon as he looks at me, I know what he'll suggest, and beat him to the punch with my answer. "No fucking way."
He's undeterred. "I know you're exhausted. Spending some time here alone would do more for you than running from motel to motel."
I glare at him. "Don't be so noble. I'm not going to drop you just because a couple of dicks don't want you around."
"You need time to recover," he insists, frustration filling up his face.
"Recover from what?" says Maya, sharply. Nohemi is nearly vibrating with tension, and even Odalis takes a step past Rhys, closer to me.
"Nothing," I growl, and then look back at him. "I'm fine."
"Phoenix, you're not fine. I know the damned motorcycle left you crying in pain at points," he hisses.
Damn it, I thought he hadn't noticed that. "I won't ditch you."
"What aren't you telling us?" Maya's voice cuts through, and despite myself, I glance over, finding that she moved closer. There seems to be real concern in her expression, but I'm not going to reveal anything from last night with those two jerks right there to hear it.
"Forget it. We'll get out of your hair and go." I jerk my chin back in the direction of Gideon's motorcycle.
But that's a mistake, because it makes the jacket shift and open up. Not much, just enough to reveal my throat. And the marks on it.
Growls and gasps split the air. Nohemi's hands fly over her mouth, eyes fixed on my neck, but both Maya and Odalis bare their teeth. Flushing, I snatch the jacket closed and drop my gaze, glad I didn't glimpse Desmond or Rhys. I don't want to see them sneering at my weakness.
"Who did it?" says Maya, her voice a full-on snarl. "Who put a collar on you?"
Then Desmond mutters, "Sweet fucking Christ, those are bite marks on her wrist."
My grip bunches the leather as I fight the urge to turn and run. Gideon's hand curls around my arm, but this time the touch doesn't feel like his, and I twist away, words spilling out. "It doesn't matter; I didn't come here to beg for help."
Nohemi reaches out to me, eyes brimming with tears. "Beg? This was your mom's home. It's your home, too."
Why are they looking at me like that? I'm not something to be cried over. I shake my head, trying to breathe through the feeling of ghostly fingers yanking at my hair. "Not if being here puts Gideon in a bad spot. Look, I lost everyone else in this last week. I'm not losing him, too. You hate him because of his family. Okay, whatever. But I'm not going to act like that's fine with me. And I'll gut whoever tries to fuck with him."
There's a pause while all three blink at me, and I wonder whether I just killed myself. Then, to my surprise, it's Odalis who relaxes, even letting out a bark of a laugh.
"That's not Inez," she says, looking at Maya. "That's Bero."
Her words don't make any sense to me, but they must mean something to Maya, because she sighs. "So, you'll only stay if he's here, too."
"Right." My skin is settling down, back to sensing things that are only really there, and I fumble for Gideon's hand.
Maya looks at our intertwined fingers and huffs. "Well, then, back off and let me take a sniff at him. I need to know what I'd be allowing into our home."
"That seems fair," says Gideon. His ink spirals over my skin before his hand gently pulls loose, sliding up to my elbow. I know he's trying to calm me down, telling me he's okay with this.
Reluctantly, I move back, watching her circle him. She's nearly as tall as he is, and scrutinizes every inch she can see while moving with a confidence that sucks away all of his space and makes it hers. Gideon keeps his face expressionless as he turns his head to follow her, but his ink coils into sharp patterns, and when she asks him questions too quiet for me to hear, his answers are quick and clipped.
I'm chewing my lip when Nohemi moves up next to me, lightly settling one arm around my shoulders. "He smells fine. She's just testing his nerves, now. And yours, too."
Her touch feels as easy and comforting as her smile, and I relax enough to offer a small smile of my own. There's a flicker of movement on the other side of her, and I look over to see Desmond inch closer. I start to show him my teeth, but he tamped down his body somehow, every move coming across as being harmless, wanting to set me at ease. Nohemi also watches him, but his gaze stays on my hand, still gripping the neck of the jacket, while his head tilts up. Sniffing me out, I realize.
He stops a few feet away, expression serious. "Your entire scent is different. You must've gone through hell."
I guess it can't hurt to answer him. "Yeah. You going to put me through more?"
"You mean because of the human?" He's already back to smiling, like he can't keep it off his face. It's different, though, small and musing instead of lewd.
Before he can answer further, Maya steps away from Gideon. "What a fucking mess," she says. It's hard to tell whether she means Gideon or the entire situation. Then she looks at me. "I got no problem with him. That's enough to let him onto the land, but the rest need to agree to live with him, whether he stays here a day or a year. Nohemi?"
She nods immediately.
Maya's gaze moves to her other sister. "Odalis?"
There's a quiet growl from Rhys that ends more in a whine. Odalis looks at him. "I can't baby you through everything. I trust my sisters." Then her gaze jumps back to Maya. "Don't see any good in making trouble out of it. I'm fine with him here."
"Desmond?"
His head tilts while he scratches the stubble on the side of his jaw. His eyes flick to Maya's for a split second, and I sense they're both acknowledging something. "No easy decision. I might be fool enough to rip out his guts. I know I'd enjoy it."
Only Nohemi's grip keeps me from lunging toward him, and he glances toward me before continuing. "Then again, I don't want the fuck's scent mixed in with mine. No small thing, taking someone's blood. I have a reputation to consider; what a shame, staining all my years as a blood witch with a Glass boy's prissy scent."
When I start growling, I feel a new hand on my shoulder, light but firm. It's Odalis. She whispers, "Easy, he's doing a lot more for you and your boy than you think, letting Rhys hear this. And the human knows it, too."
She might be right, since Gideon's ink smoothed out into the usual swirls along his skin, fluid and unflickering even when Desmond circles him.
"Sometimes words work better than teeth," murmurs Nohemi. "We're not all wolf."
Desmond circles him a final time and then breaks off toward the truck. "I can live with him."
Maya only nods. "Rhys?"
Rhy doesn't say anything, doesn't even move except for the muscles tensing in his arms.
Desmond looks at him. "You're locked into your pride, man. You know it'd take less from us to live with him than to kill him."
"He's taken too much already," he snaps, before his gaze slides over me. It's cool, calculating, and my skin prickles as I flash my teeth again. Beside me, Odalis hisses in a breath.
Now Maya circles him, doing the same space-sucking thing she did with Gideon. "So, that's what you think my niece is. Something to be taken."
Her voice didn't change at all in tone or inflection, but something about it makes Rhys lose his sneer. "I didn't say that. I meant he grabbed her from any wolf who might've had a chance at her."
"You think she doesn't have enough mind to choose?" she continues.
"No, I..." He glances at Odalis, who's gone very tense. "Who would pick a fucking human?"
"She did." Maya stops in front of him and leans in until their faces are inches apart. "It's probably a mistake. It's certainly foolishness with the family he has. But it's her decision, and you're acting like the important part is whether she can be wrestled away like a bone."
Rhys licks his lips, gaze moving everywhere but her. Nohemi shifts against me, looking at Odalis. "He doesn't get it, does he?"
Odalis sighs. "He does, a little. Just not why it pisses us off so much."
Maya finally moves back, giving him room to breathe. "What's your decision, Rhys? I'll let you know right now that if you agree to living with him, you better fucking mean it. You know what I do to brutes who try using bitches for power plays."
There's a long, tense silence, and then Rhys ducks his head to the side. "Just stay out of my fucking way," he snarls at Gideon, and then gets back into the truck, slamming the door after him.
Nohemi pats my shoulder before moving away. "See? Not a drop of blood wasted."
Odalis lingers by my side long enough that I wonder if she's already planning revenge for her guy getting shot down for mine. But when I glance up at her, she gives me a wry smile, as if she knows exactly what I think. "Relax. No hard feelings here, girl."
Maya waits until the rest of the pack is back by the truck before jerking her head at Gideon. "You're in. Follow us up, but don't overtake the truck; we got spells in place to keep people from sneaking onto our land, and they're not nice ones."
I start to move for Gideon, but Maya blocks my way. "I can tell you're dead tired, so once we're at the house, go on and get settled in. But I do expect answers sooner than later."
"You mean, you want to know what happened to me?" I manage to dodge around her, but I know it's only because she let me.
Gideon is already by my side, fingers laced with mine, when she turns to eye me. "I know what happened. Can't mistake a vampire's bite. Whether you want to tell me just what he did is up to you."
Shock jerks through my body. It must show on my face, because her own expression softens a little. "You're part of a different world than a human's, girl. I'm sorry you got taken away from it for fifteen years only to meet it again like this."
I don't even know what to say to that, but she doesn't give me a chance to. "Smells like you're in a lot of pain. A ride with us in the truck bed would let you settle yourself more comfortably than on that bike."
I look over. Odalis is already inside the truck cab, sitting next to Rhys and talking to him; neither seems too happy. Nohemi's climbing into the bed. So is Desmond. "No, thanks."
She doesn't say anything, just nods and heads for the truck. After jumping in nimbly, she calls out, "You sure, then?"
When I nod my head, she pounds on the roof of the cab until Rhys sends the engine sprites growling.
As soon as the truck is back on the road and pulling away, Gideon looks at me. "That went better than I expected."
I blink at him. "Are you kidding me?"
"They seem happy to see you and they clearly don't trust INKtech. Both of these should make explaining the full situation to them much easier."
"They also hate your guts," I say, watching the dwindling truck, partially to delay the pain of getting back on the motorcycle, and partially because I'm worrying over all the ways they could make him miserable.
"Well, I'm not doing this for them." The tips of his fingers brush my cheek. He's careful, watching me to make sure I'm comfortable with it. "And I truly do think their land will be safer than a random motel room."
I lean into his touch, into the heat of his ink, and the words that come out of me are ones that gnaw deep inside, biting harder whenever I feel the pull of a scab. "Do you think he's really gone? You know, Valentine. He burned down to nothing, but..."
"All the other vampires were killed through their hearts," he finishes, and the tension drains out of my shoulders. So, he's worrying about it, too. "Let's just say I'm very happy they don't need to be convinced vampires exist."
I think about seeing Valentine. How close I'll need to be to reach his heart, how he'll look at me with that fucking smile, knowing what makes me scream. The taste of bile floods my mouth, and I start shaking, again.
I control my shivering long enough to get on the motorcycle behind Gideon, settling myself as gingerly as possible. When we lurch onto the road, my nails dig into him so hard they probably leave marks. He waves off my apology, but I notice lines of worry on his forehead when he glances back at me.
Traveling the rest of the way to the pack's home happens in a blur. Each minute, the pain worsens, as if I used up my last piece of energy to deal with the pack, leaving my body with nothing to hold itself together. It's not until Gideon shifts and murmurs something that I realize we're here, wherever here is. I have to take quick, shallow breaths while getting off the motorcycle, holding onto it to keep my knees from buckling. Standing up makes my surroundings dwindle to snapshots of senses. A glimpse of a wooden porch with white balcony railings. A snatch of Nohemi's voice, sharp and high. Then the scratchiness of dirt against my cheek and nose. Shit, I think I just collapsed.
Hands on me, and a noise scrapes out of my throat while I claw against arms. Sand grits against my skin, and I'm snarling because suddenly here he is, sucking at the blood running fresh from my neck, fingers winding in my hair while the rest of his body crushes me down and tears me open. He jerks my head back to hiss into my ear, still moving against me as he says, "You can stop pretending already; I know how much bitches like it from behind."
I start screaming, trying to drown out his laugh, but still feeling it against my neck. And when he finally finishes and lets me go, I crawl for the shape of the truck, even though I know he's watching, waiting for me to get close enough to hope I can pull myself in and drive away. The headlights blind me, but I keep moving, dirt stinging against my skin, hair sticking to my neck and shoulders. Please, God, let me make it.
Then, a palm finds my forehead. A scream chokes in my throat until I feel the rough calluses. Valentine's hands are smooth, almost slick. This isn't him. He's not here. My body goes limp.
Slowly, I realize the glare in my eyes is from the sun, not the headlights of a truck. I'm still breathing too fast, too shallow, but it doesn't fill up my ears, anymore. I can hear a voice. Maya's voice.
"You back with us, girl?"
I lick my lips, taking in the white ceiling above me, the soft mattress under my back. "I think so."
"Good. We have a salve witch on her way here. She can help with the pain, but needs to see what's been done to you, first. You understand what that means?"
"She has to rip open a squirrel?" I mumble.
A bark of a laugh. Then her voice turns serious again. "She needs to take a good look at your body. Can you handle that?"
Does it matter if I can when it's obvious I have to? I open my mouth to tell her that, but the words that come out are completely different, from somewhere deeper inside. "I thought I could kill him before he did anything really bad. Even when I went along with him, I didn't think... I fought off every other vampire, why not him? But I couldn't get him off me. Couldn't make him stop. I—I wasn't strong enough."
There's a long silence that makes my guts churn. Every muscle in my neck burns, but I turn my head a little, just until I see her sitting in a chair placed next to the bed. She leans toward me, gaze sharp and steady as she takes in the way my fingers pick at the sheets. Finally, she says, "You make it sound like surviving is weak."
Now even my eyes are hurting, prickling with tears. "I don't want this."
She nods, hand stroking my head. "I know. But no one can take it for you. Some might want to; that boy of yours strikes me as one. But the best he can do—the best any of us can do—is help you through it when possible. And we will, girl. We're pack."
It's the straightforwardness to her words that calms away my tears, keeping the walls from pressing in around me. I take in a few breaths, wanting to make sure my voice sounds steady. "Thank you."
She just huffs. "Thanking me. The boy and his Kingdom manners rubbed off on you."
That's when I realize we're alone in this room, and how odd that fact is. "Where is Gideon? He's okay, right?"
"He's fine. Got scratched up some when he carried you into the house, but kept fussing over you, anyway. Wouldn't leave this room until we convinced him he'd do more good for you by helping ward this house against vampires." Her voice is filled with reluctant approval, as if she doesn't like admitting he's fearless when it comes to claws and teeth.
Shame floods my chest as I remember the hands I fought against, thinking it was Valentine. "I hurt him?"
"Just with your fingernails; you lost too much blood to change into your fur. Anyway, it's good for him to know. There's always trouble when a human doesn't see a wolf as dangerous." She looks ready to say more, but then there's a knock on the closed door. Instinctively, I glance toward a window, relaxing a little at the sight of the sun.
After lifting her head to sniff, she looks at me. "It's Nohemi and Marrow, the salve witch. I won't make you see her if you don't want to."
I can read the rest of that thought in her face. But you really should.
And I know it; the pain throbbing through my body is bad enough to make my stomach churn. "Okay. I can handle it."
Her hand shifts against my forehead, ready to pull away. "You want privacy while she looks you over?"
My muscles flinch at the thought of going through an examination alone with a stranger, no matter how nice she might be. I hardly know Maya any better, but... "Could you stay?"
She nods, brushing my forehead a final time before moving for the door.
The woman that steps inside isn't as old as I thought she'd be; probably only in her late twenties, and wearing jeans and sneakers. But she carries a leather doctor's bag, and her long, dark locs are tied at the back of her head as severely as any nurse's bun. When she smiles at me, it seems genuine. "My name's Marrow. Maya tells me you were attacked by a vampire; I'm glad you survived."
Her voice is confident and calm, but nerves flicker through me as she drops her bag into the chair Maya was using. "I'll have to ask certain questions and examine you to figure out the best treatment to help with your healing, but what I can say for now is that, when it comes to vampire bites, there are things your body will do differently than a normal wolf witch's. For one, you can't be turned into a vampire no matter how many times you're fed on. That's the main reason why the stronger ones hunt us."
She's light-skinned and has hazel eyes, but when she speaks, her words have the natural Chetli slant. And her nose ring looks like it's silver. Could she be...
She must see the question on my face, because she nods. "I'm a sisterwolf, like you. Not only that, but I was trained to kill vampires before turning to medicine, so I know a lot about them."
Her words send me struggling upright, urgency overcoming the flash of agony. "Is he dead? Can they be burned to death?"
She holds up a hand, not to stop me, but to soothe me. "Not a master vampire, and that bite on your neck tells me he was. That type can only be destroyed by pulling out the heart and squeezing all the blood from it."
"Easy, girl," murmurs Maya, and I realize tears are streaming down my face. "You're not facing him alone, anymore."
"And you'll have a little time to rest," says Marrow. "He'll need tonight to regenerate."
I half-expect my body to do something that feels as horrible as what's inside my head. Throw up blood, maybe, or split apart and collapse. Before I can say anything, there are voices on the other side of the door, sharp and angry. Then a thud, like someone was thrown against it.
"It's always interesting around here, Maya," says Marrow, dryly, as another body slams against the door, this time hard enough to make the hinges creak.
Maya growls and stalks over there, her voice growing into a snarl as she rips open the door. "Enough!"
I jerk up at seeing Gideon and Desmond there in the doorway, panting and glaring at each other. Blood streams from Desmond's nose, and he lifts up his shirt to wipe at it. Gideon's ink crackles, but his focus switches to me, and only Maya's arm across the doorway keeps him from rushing in.
"He punched me when I tried to stop him," complains Desmond. "I think he broke my nose."
Gideon looks away from me long enough to snap, "Because you lied to me. You said Nohemi told you she was still unresponsive."
Maya raises an eyebrow and glances at Desmond.
"Not a lie at all. All you asked was what Nohemi said, and she said that, all right. It just wasn't the most recent thing she said." Desmond sniffs and adds, "I don't think I deserved this. It really hurts."
"Healy, don't play the pitiful pup. I've seen you fight with a round of buckshot in your back," says Maya, shaking her head. Then she eyes Gideon. "Well, and what do you want?"
He gives her a look like he can't believe she even asked. "To see Phoenix."
At that, Marrow glances at me and murmurs, "Do you want him in for a little bit before we start?"
I don't even have to think about it. As soon as I nod, she clears her throat, catching Maya's attention. "I can clean up Des, first. From what I remember, there's a bathroom down the hall. I'll work on him in there."
Maya takes in the expression on my face, and then sighs. "Fine." She drops her arm to let Gideon slide by, and motions at Desmond to follow her out.
Marrow smiles at me while reaching for her bag. "I'll take my time patching him up."
Then the warmth of ink washes over my hand, and I look up into worried blue eyes. "Are you all right?"
"Fuck no," I say, hearing my voice crack as my fingers twine with his. "I just found out he's still alive."
His hands tightens against mine, but he doesn't offer any false reassurances while easing next to me. It's one of the things I love about him, how he knows silent attention can be more soothing than lies. And that's why we spend the rest of the time without a word between us, my head on his shoulder while I trace the changing patterns of his ink, trying to find a tranquil moment somewhere among all those swirling lines.
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