CHAPTER 9
Rue
Groggy consciousness returns sometime later,
but it’s as if I have cotton balls stuffed in every orifice, keeping anything from really penetrating or sending off the proper signals to my brain.
My eyes snap open but everything is fuzzy, blurry, and unfamiliar.
Where the hell am I?
Flashes of elongated teeth and fur slide through my mind, and I jolt, remembering where I am and why I’m here. If only I were in my own bed back at my apartment with the drawing pencils and notebook on my nightstand. I’d open my sketchbook to a new page and let all the thoughts plaguing me loose on paper to get them out of my mind. I don’t know why that seems to help me, but it’s like sketching my personal demons soothes me deep inside.
The first thing I do is run my hands over my fully clothed body, breathing a sigh of relief when I discover I’m in the same outfit, albeit splattered in blood. The sheets underneath me are ruined from the grime, but I can’t seem to bring myself to feel guilty since Rhys is the one who put me here.
Taking a glance around the room, I realize someone took the time to tuck me under the covers, but at some point, I shifted out from underneath and kicked them halfway off the bed. How long have I been asleep? A few hours? A day? It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long but there’s no way for me to know for certain.
Sitting up slightly, my wrist twinges, sending a spike of shooting pain up my arm. I really need a sling or something to keep it in place, but this bedroom is practically bare, and I don’t want to rip the expensive-looking sheets, even if they’re dirty.
With a yawn, I bring my good hand to my forehead, placing the back of it against my skin and a hiss escapes through my teeth. Hexes, I’m burning up. Which means my body is still processing the venom.
Gingerly, I pull the blankets over me and cocoon myself under them. They’re soft and warm and smell like pine trees and rain with a hint of something sugary. I try to block all the unwanted thoughts out, but it’s no use. Now that my brain has awoken, all the emotions are seeping in.
I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if the three shifters weren’t there last night, but I can’t seem to stop the spiral. Without them, I’d be dead. Likely still laying in the parking lot until some poor soul found me the next day. I’m so hexin’ thankful for them saving me when I couldn’t do it myself.
Speaking of the guys, their voices filter through the closed door like they’re standing outside, guarding it. For some reason, that makes my insides turn to goo, and I open my mouth to call out to them and ask a question when one of them sighs heavily.
“He’ll be here any minute,” Caylix, I’m pretty sure, says, and he doesn’t sound all that thrilled at the prospect. I tilt my head, trying to pick up more of their conversation, but his voice is too soft to hear the rest. Huh. Who could he be talking about?
The healer? Maybe there’s bad blood between them.
“I still don’t like this idea,” Rhys states, his voice louder than Caylix’s. Something tells me he’s usually the life of the party—the one everyone’s drawn to in a room. I know he managed to draw me in like a planet stuck in his orbit. Even now, my blood threatens to heat from the memory of his tongue against my pulse, it might actually make me spontaneously combust. None of that for you, Rue. You’ve already been through enough.
“We don’t have a choice,” Caylix responds. There’s a muffled reply before he continues. “I know. I don’t want the poor witch to suffer either.”
Okay, so is he talking about the healer or not? Who could this mystery person be and why is there a giant ball of nerves in my stomach over it?
One of them cracks the door open and my eyes snap shut. I even out my breathing, pretending to be asleep so I can eavesdrop on their conversation. There’s a chance they’ll say something useful. Maybe then I can potentially figure out what and who they’re talking about.
There’s a loud, pounding knock at the front door and my heart rate kicks into overdrive. “Speak of the devil,” Rhys mutters under his breath. Their footsteps trail away from the bedroom door, and I immediately sit up, pushing the soft covers away from me. That makes another waft of their scent hit me and I inhale deeply. God, whoever the bed belongs to smells divine, and it takes more willpower than I expect to haul myself out of it. Especially since every muscle in my body feels like it’s been shoved through a cheese grater and reformed on the other side.
Silently, I open the door and peer into the hallway, taking note of two more closed doors further down and an open one across from me leading to a bathroom. The urge to pee hits me hard, but I tamp it down, the need to figure out what’s happening overrides my basic functions.
As I swivel my gaze toward the entrance, I’m relieved to find the coast is clear. Distantly, I hear the guys talking. “Are we sure about this?” Rhys asks. “We don’t have to invite him in.”
“What choice do we have?” Caylix responds, and I swear I can hear his jaw grinding from here. “Like I said, this is technically a vampire matter. The only thing giving us any claim is that it happened on pack land.” He pauses, and I wish I could see if his body language could give me a hint of how sincere he is. “This is the only way we can get her help with Dar’tha out of commission.”
Confusion makes my nose wrinkle and I strain to hear more of their conversation, but they’re silent. Who the heck is Dar’tha? She must be the healer, but if she’s out of commission, who did they ask to come? I still have so many questions that need answers.
When I make it to the end of the hallway, I take a chance and glance around the corner. The whole cabin has a warm feel to it, and I get a better look at the wood walls, paired with cozy-looking furniture I want to sink into. There’s an updated homey feel to it, completely different from the normal style you’d find around New Orleans. It’s small, but the open floor plan gives it a roomier vibe. The living room leads into a small kitchen with cabinets that match the walls against the left side. To the right is a small eating nook walled in by floor to ceiling windows that I’m sure display the beautiful scenery when it’s not dark outside.
Movement captures my attention as Kathan, who is poised with his hand on the doorknob, takes a deep breath like he’s mentally shoring himself. Caylix and Rhys are standing off to the side, leaving enough room for whoever is at the door to enter. Judging by the frowns marring their faces, none of them are too happy with who this mysterious guest is.
Although, I don’t think I’ve seen Kathan crack a smile yet in the short amount of time I’ve known him, so that might simply be his personality.
Kathan yanks open the door which spurs me into action. I jerk into my hiding spot behind the wall, my heart racing as the floorboards groan underneath the sudden weight shift. I hold my breath, but no one comes barreling around the corner to check, so I think I’m in the clear. Why am I hiding anyway?
Right as I gather my courage enough to make my presence known, a voice from the doorway stops me in my tracks. “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” His tone is deep, dark, and mysterious. It’s also full of confidence like he’s not the visitor standing outside their home, and he owns the place. Despite not being able to see his face, I can almost picture a smirk fixed upon his lips. When no one says anything, he continues, “What can I do for you in the middle of the night, gentlemen? Since you refused to tell me over the phone.”
“One of your feral fuckers bit a witch tonight and almost killed her,” Kathan responds, and a jolt of recognition goes through me. One of your feral fuckers. But that would mean… No, surely, I have to be wrong, right?
Right?
Based on what I’m hearing, it could only be one person, Slade Dumont. The leader of the local vampire clan. He’s rumored to be an absolutely ruthless ruler and doesn’t take any shit or feel any remorse for his subjects if they step out of line. He rules with an iron fist and single handedly decides his subject’s fate. Whereas we go by coven rules and the council’s vote.
The witches are far from innocent, though.
“You said you’d work on getting them under control,” Caylix says by way of greeting, his voice razor sharp.
Slade chuckles darkly. “Actually, if I remember correctly, which I do—” Sheesh. What a cocky male. Stop, Rue, don’t get distracted. “—I said we would tackle them together. I have no control over them once they turn. They’re feral, or have you forgotten that, wolf?” The way he says wolf like it’s a dirty word wrapped in a snarl sends a shiver through me.
Yeah, there’s bad blood there but they’re obviously trying to come together to cull the feral vampire threat, despite their biological differences and nature.
It makes me wonder if the witches know how bad the situation really is, but I can’t imagine them not knowing. Especially with the rumors of their grab for power lately. If you listen to the gossip mill, they’re saying they’ve planted spies everywhere to stay on top of the information. I mean, I guess when you’re mortal, you have to do something to be relevant, but I disagree with a lot of their policies. But you can’t just start a war against a whole supernatural race without a whole hex of a lot of proof.
I peek around the corner once more and my gaze lands on Kathan with a clenched jaw peering toward his packmates before returning his attention to Slade at the door. Kathan is tall enough, it blocks my view of Slade, and I’m dying to get a glimpse of him.
“We remember the terms, Slade,” Kathan says, punctuating his name much the same as Slade did with wolf. “Which is why we called you tonight. This matter involves our kind and yours.”
“Oh? Pray tell.” His tone is completely nonchalant like their back-and-forth is a weekly occurrence. I’d say it takes a lot to ruffle his feathers. I suppose I’d be the same if I was practically the king of vampires.
“A witch was bitten by a feral fucker tonight,” Caylix tells him again, reiterating what Kathan said earlier.
“Interesting indeed,” Slade drawls. “Sounds like you handled it. Why do you need me? Surely, you have the means to dispose of a body?”
There’s a pause, one that sends a prickle down my spine, as they seem to be contemplating how to move forward. A part of me wants to burst in and announce myself but the other knows that’s stupid, and I need this information. I can’t trust them to share anything with me at this point. The only person I can rely on is myself.
“The witch isn’t dead. We used our saliva to counteract the venom.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath, I’m assuming from Slade, before he outright laughs. “My, my, my. This witch must be special for you to risk mating her to save her life. Still, why do you need me?” My racing heart stutters to a stop. My ears ring, and I have to mentally kick myself to get it going again. I suck in a deep breath, then another while I process that tidbit of information.
There are whispers of how other supernatural races take mates, but I didn’t know the process for shifters until Slade admitted it. They risked mating with me to save my life. Holy forkin’ shifter balls.
Does that mean they feel this undeniable connection between us too?
I shove away my thoughts and tune into the conversation again. “Our healer is indisposed. We need you to heal the witch’s other injuries and the damage done to her system from the venom,” Rhys explains.
“Afterward, we want you to compel her to forget everything and send her on her way back to the city,” Kathan continues and there’s a bite in his tone I can feel from here.
I can’t stop the hurt from striking me straight in the chest, like Kathan reached inside with his big ole hands and squeezed, constricting the air out of my lungs. My stomach sinks to my toes like a lead weight being dropped off a twenty-story building. They want to erase my memories and what, send me home? After all this? After risking everything to save my life?
Abso-hexing-lutely not. I want to remember everything. Dancing with Caylix, the betrayal by Tessa and Darcy, Rhys and my sexy moment, the terror as the vampire sank his teeth into me, the three of them saving my life. Sure, it’s fucked up, but I’ve never felt this alive. This could be what I’ve been missing, and they want to take it from me?
I slump against the wall, fighting the angry tears wanting to escape. Some slip out anyway and I swipe them from my cheeks.
“Sure,” the vampire leader practically purrs. “But first, you have to invite me in, wolf.” Oh, right. I forgot vampires can’t cross the threshold unless they’ve been invited in. I can’t believe these shifters are willingly going to let him into their cabin.
“Come in,” Kathan says reluctantly, and I swear the air is heavier for a moment as I hear his footsteps retreat from the door and another set step inside.
Have these men just signed my death warrant? Slade is not known for his sunshine and rainbows side, more like death and destruction, and he doesn’t strike me as the type to casually do a favor like this for the wolves, even if they are allied, so why is he agreeing to this?
“I’ll go get her,” Rhys says, his voice blazing with anger. Something must’ve happened while I was asleep because I can’t see him agreeing to this. Then again, I don’t know him. Something I need my heart and mind to realize.
Rhys’ footsteps are heavy against the wood floors and it’s almost like he’s stalling or trying to buy time before getting me, like he’s trying to formulate a plan. Panic sets in and I jump up from my position against the wall. I have to get out of here. There’s no way I’m letting them erase my memories. I finally feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, like I’m truly seeing the world for the first time. There’s no way I’m letting it slip out of my grasp now that it’s within reach.
The question is, where do I go? I can’t exactly run out the front door with Slade in it, and I’d never make it out the back. With a snap decision, I bolt for the room they left me in. Once inside, I frantically search for a way out, a weapon, or anything to help me make my escape. But there’s only two things that might help.
The window… or the wooden stake sitting on the dresser that I overlooked when I woke up.
Scanning the rest of the room leaves me empty handed. Whoever’s room this is keeps it tidier than I’d expect for a man. There’s a long dresser, a tall dresser, and a bed. That’s it.
The window and the stake are my only options.
Fight or flee.