CHAPTER 11
CaylixRue’s hair splays around her like a dark halo as I deposit her onto Kathan’s bed and tuck her under the covers. My gaze snags on her neck where two tiny puncture holes serve as a reminder of what she’s been through and survived. I’ve only known her for such a short time, but I already feel myself becoming possessive over her. I can’t tell if it’s residual from giving her my saliva or if it’s more.
Could she truly be our mate? The one we’ve been waiting for what feels like an eternity to drop into our lives?
A part of me says yes, but the other is still cautious. Hope is a dangerous thing. It can either make you whole or shred you to pieces.
Rhys though? He’s a goner—hook, line, and sinker. Like with everything in life, Rhys doesn’t do anything in half measures. And he’s all in with Rue which is why he shifted and ran off. Shifters have the ability to let the beast take over and become all instinct, so he does this a lot when he needs to get out of his head. I can’t say I’ve never done it either. Sometimes it’s easier when all you’re thinking about is the sounds of the swamps or hunting prey.
I’d like to be all in with Rue as well, but there are things that haven’t been explained yet, and my brain needs those pieces to be able to click everything into place.
Kathan’s more than reluctant about her presence and incredibly grumpy over it. I never should’ve let him suggest erasing Rue’s memories. Not only is it wrong, but we hurt her, and keeping her safe—getting to the meaning behind her blood curing that feral fucker—is important. She’s important, and now she’ll be reluctant with us, wary, and we did that. There’s nothing I can do but try and atone for it.
My hand finds her forehead to check her temperature. She’s still burning up, but Slade’s blood should take care of that soon. I watch her for a moment longer, the slight rise and fall of her chest, the peaceful expression on her face, before I return to the living room. Slade is gone, and I’m glad. Explaining why there’s a vampire bound and gagged in our shed would likely be the literal nail in the coffin tonight. We’ll tell him… eventually. When we know we can better protect Rue and can assure he won’t rip her to shreds to save the ferals. Rhys is still gone, which isn’t surprising, but Kathan sits in front of the fireplace lost in thought. His elbows are on his knees, watching the flames flare and crackle.
Heading for the fridge I find a cold beer and crack it open. Usually, I’m a whiskey kind of guy, but there’s not any here. Thank goodness we let my sister borrow the cabin after she had a spat with her new mates a few weeks ago. I’m surprised there was any beer left with that whole ordeal, but I’m glad for it all the same. Either that or she forgot it was here. “I think inviting Slade was a bad idea,” I admit, my thoughts troubling me. I grab another one for Kathan, extending it toward him before I sink onto the couch. “His curiosity over her isn’t a good sign.”
He sighs, rubbing his temples. “His curiosity stemmed from us giving her our saliva.”
“Yeah, but it only grew when she tried to stab him and drank his blood. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him give it to anyone from the vein before.” Sure, our alliance with him is fairly new, but we’ve interacted a lot over the years. Much like the witches, we keep tabs on every race because shifters are natural protectors. And our reasons are much less nefarious than theirs.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him give it to anyone, period,” Kathan responds. “The other strange thing was the way he reacted to her blood. I’ve never seen him lose control like that.”
I run a hand through my hair, remembering the way his eyes turned red as he lunged for her, fully a beast. I swear my heart stopped in that moment because I wasn’t close enough to stop it. Thankfully, I didn’t have to intervene. “Me either. Did you get a chance to ask the vampire outside any questions? Maybe it has nothing to do with Rue at all.” But even as I say the words, I don’t believe them. It has everything to do with Rue.
Slade’s been trying to find a cure for years. I shiver to think what he’d do to her if he knew his cure was right under his thumb.
Kathan grunts. “No, I knocked him out cold. He’s not getting out of those irons when he wakes though. They’re bolted in tight. I checked.”
“I guess it’s a good thing we had the shed reinforced after all.” Truthfully, we had it outfitted for any newly changed shifters. When the draw of the full moon is at its strongest, they can lose control. Seasoned wolves have a tight grip on themselves, but we’re stronger and faster under a full moon. We even built the shed to withstand floods as Louisiana is known for unpredictable weather, but now I’m glad for an entirely different reason. It easily converts to a holding cell until we can figure out what’s going on. “Any ideas on what to do with her? Or who might know something?” I ask, sipping my beer.
Kathan takes a long swig, his throat bobbing before he responds. “None. Maybe the archivist, but that’s probably a rabbit hole we don’t want to go down,” he says, referring to the madman that records all our history. The man’s a bloodhound and if we brought Rue to him, he’d take one whiff, and never let go until she was dissected before him.
“Yeah, that’s a no-go,” I respond. “We can’t let this get out. Not until we know we can protect her from the shitstorm the truth will bring.”
“I know.”