Chapter 17 #2
“My clothes are out there and you’re standing right in front of my stall,” I interrupt. Hopefully he is more of a gentleman and will leave.
“Then grab them and change in the stall. I need to say something to you and I want to do it face to face.”
A shiver rolls up my spine. In order to do that I’d have to stick my hand out and there’s enough light to easily see the scars on my arm.
It’s not that big of deal, I hadn’t cared before about people seeing them or not.
But it’s how they treat me afterward. The looks, the pity, the remorse.
They see the scars and think I’m fragile.
I had to yell at Rosemary once to stop treating me like that. She wouldn’t let me do anything for months when she found out about them.
God damnit. Today has started off so good too and now wariness is creeping in. Everything had been going so good. I’ve kept up with my classes, I’ve been working, I’ve been feeding myself properly, I’ve started working out again.
“You’ll see my arm if you keep staring at the stall,” I sigh. I don’t know why I care so much about it all anyway. I doubt people would care if the so called vampire had scars at all. It’s not like I don’t already get stares and whispers and whatnot.
“I already know you have scars on your arm, Mavyn. But I’m not leaving, I need to speak to you.”
“You can’t just wait outside?” I try. To which I’m greeted by silence. I don’t have the energy for this shit.
Wrapping the towel around myself tighter, I turn the water off and grab the shower curtain before cracking it open and reaching one of my arms out.
I have to stretch the whole thing out to get where my clothes are on the bench and faster than I was prepared for burning wraps around my forearm and my back is pressed against a wall.
Golden eyes lit up with threads of white are all I see as they stare at the arm gripped in their hand.
“Thorne said – “ he doesn’t finish as his eyes follow my arm up to my shoulder and then the part of my chest the towel can’t cover. The arm he’s holding onto feels like it’s consumed with fire as I ram the back of my head into the wall and pinch my eyes shut.
Pain.
The kind of burning I haven’t felt since the devil last placed his hands on my bare skin.
I don’t cover my body just because of the sun. I also cover it because if anyone touches my scars bare of any barrier – whether that be material or magic – it burns worse than the sun.
It almost feels like I’m about to black out.
I forgot how much it hurt. The nightmares don’t even come close.
I’m not used to it anymore. It’s not accompanied by the sexual warmth of his venom flooding my system from his bite or the twisted euphoria from the poisons the mage would give me before she would start with me.
It’s only pain.
I can’t even speak. I can’t even mouth the word stop. I can’t. . .
Let go.
I can barely think it and worse is that I wasn’t able to properly open my mental shields up enough to just tell him that. My walls get flung open as he immediately lets my arm go and I slide down the wall. It takes too many seconds to snap my shields back up and lock my mind from prying eyes.
Too many seconds too late because I felt him seeing what was exposed. I felt him watching. Even if he didn’t enter my mind, he still saw.
The pain lingers for long minutes. It’s quiet but for my pants. When I’m finally able to open my eyes I find Callahan still in front of me, though now he’s kneeling so my eyes are level with his. And his are pitch black.
No differentiating between his iris and pupil. A primordial stillness has his body stuck in place and I can’t sense his aura at all. It’s never been possible for someone to completely hide their magic from me. There’s always some sort of fluctuation even if they try concealing it to everyone else.
Ribbons of pain still shoot through my left arm as I pull my knees in tighter to my chest and slowly hunch my shoulders. Any tinge of movement feels like saws ripping at my skin and bone. But he looks. . .
“Callahan.”
Barely a breath. Barely anything because if I’m not careful he could eviscerate me.
He looks like he’s so close to shifting into that thing all devils have within themselves.
A type of thing – not monster, not beast, not creature, it’s a thing – and I know the type of death they can instill. Their true form.
“You said he was generous.”
Monotone and cold. His voice sounds dead to any sort of emotion. Like someone without a soul.
“Who?” I breathe. I will not speak louder than that in case he does attack. He wouldn’t even need to blink in order to decimate me.
The black in his eyes ripple as a sliver of color around what would be his pupil lights.
“The devil.” And a bit of understanding leaks through.
I can’t believe he remembered that. My description of the devil while I had been in the infirmary. I had said he was generous – though I had meant with his punishments. He was more than generous with those.
He speaks before I can respond. “This is torture.” The gold in his eyes consume more of the black in his iris. “He tortured you, didn’t he. It wasn’t you who cut your arms. It was always him.”
Breaking my eye contact, he looks at every scar, every bitemark. I should be lucky he can only see what’s on my arms and legs.
“How did you survive this?” he breathes, his voice finally cracking. “You said they adopted you when you were a toddler. Toddlers are between two to four years old.”
The black in his iris retreats back to just the outline of his iris and his aura flickers back to life around him.
It makes me internally relax as I shift to push myself further into the wall.
The pain in my arm is still lingering but not enough to prevent me from getting dressed and leaving.
I wish I could take today off and just sleep. I want to sleep after this encounter.
“Mavyn,” he says quietly, softly, carefully. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know,” I snap. At least, I know right now he’s not going to.
Not with that inner self that is the true form of a devil now locked back inside him.
Pushing off the wall, I ignore the lingering pain and cinch the towel tighter around myself.
“Now can you turn around so I can get dressed? Or better yet, get out and forget you saw anything.”
He stands up with me and his eyes linger on my scars.
“I can’t forget that – “
“Then try.” I snap again. “Now get out.”
His jaw clenches and because he’s already seen this much I don’t have the energy to care enough.
I drop the towel and his eyes flare as I use it to wrap my hair up before pulling on my clothes.
Just a loose long sleeve and pajama pants to cover me so I can get back to my room and then I can get ready.
When I look back up at him I’m not surprised by the state of shock or anguish. Scars from objects linger nearly every part of my body, and that devil’s bitemark accompany them.
He hasn’t moved or said anything, so I huff and start heading towards the door.
Grabbing my caddy and dirty clothes while keeping the towel wrapped around my hair.
He still doesn’t move or speak even after I leave the bathroom.
Not until I get back to my room and am about to close the door does a hand stop it.
I glance behind me to see Callahan out of his shocked state. A hard edge lining his features that I can’t fully tell if it’s pointed at me or not.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts. Sounding calm but I can feel his blood rushing. It’s rushing so hard I can see the slight movement from his vein in his neck. “Can you just. . . can I just come in? I wanted – I needed to talk to you. I’ve been needing to for weeks.”
I raise a brow and peak behind him as if I’m looking for something. “You sure you have time? You kicked your friend out but I’m sure she’s waiting for you.”
Yeah. . . waiting to shove her tongue down your throat.
He glowers as I let him hear that thought and only that thought. Blocking him from my head so I can’t hear anything he tries to tell me through my mind.
He drags a hand down his face as he shakes his head. “I couldn’t care less about her. Now that you’re here though, I do need to talk to you. Please.”
He says that word like he means it. Like a plea he needs me to answer.
And I know I shouldn’t. I have a feeling if I shut him out he would stay out. But for some reason I hesitate. And then for some other unknown reason I open the door just a crack more so he can slip in.
He closes the door right behind him and I leave him where he is as I go to my side of the room and open my wardrobe.
My uniform hangs neatly inside with the few clothes I’ve managed to procure.
I haven’t been able to get a lot since most of my minimal wage goes to food, but it’s enough.
I’m now saving up bit by bit so I can start getting proper school supplies.
Bending forward, I unwrap my hair and use the towel to scrunch out as much water as possible. Then I flip it over and throw the towel to my bed. Catching sight of Callahan, he hasn’t moved from his place by the door and is now looking over my room.
“Well?” I ask. I’m waiting for him to say whatever it is he wants to tell me.
He doesn’t look at me though. “Where’s all your stuff?”
Using my fingers to comb through my hair, I turn around and look at the room. The blackout shades still cover the windows so the only light is from the lamp on Jullia’s side that I had turned on before I went to the showers. It illuminates enough though.
There are rugs and throw pillows and blankets all on Jullia’s side. Lamps and her desk is decorated with cute looking supplies and stacks of her romance books. She’s also hung up posters and pictures and fake ivy over her walls. So much personality.
Then you look at my side and it looks as if there isn’t anyone rooming with Jullia.