Chapter 12 The Cat Makes Her Point
The Cat Makes Her Point
DELILAH
“You’re ruminating again, love,” she says, rolling over to sit her chin on my knee.
I smile, running my fingers through her hair. “I am. There’s something coming, I fear. I don’t know what or from where. It’s only a feeling.”
“What makes you think so?”
Sighing, I shrug. “There’s nothing I can say in definitive terms because it’s nothing quantifiable. I see little pieces like silence here, tenuousness there, or a stupid email. They are all pieces of a bigger puzzle that I can’t see yet. It’s unsettling.”
Talia licks her lips and rolls over, perturbed by my statement. “You got an email? That can only mean one thing—the gnome.”
I nod, wrapping myself in the surrounding silk to pad over to the bar, needing to move to re-settle the wee one.
“Yeah. I think I stumped her. Sari asked what Rafe and I wanted from her. I asked if we were supposed to want something outside of love from someone we care about. She hasn’t been able to come up with an answer. ”
My new mate gets up, looking forlorn yet angry. “I wish you didn’t.” She veers towards the dresser where she grabs Precious, the big wicked blade that gives her the most comfort and security. “I wish you didn’t love her, him, or his memory.”
“I do, too, sometimes,” I murmur, watching her close off as she flips and spins masterfully.
“You know, I don’t know how much we—I—can take.”
“Stop. It helps nothing to get tangled up in this. We’re not going anywhere.”
Talia turns on her heel, glaring. “I don’t know where my line is.”
Blinking, my bravado fades as it’s wont to do because her instability feeds my insecurities. We’re a pair, and we make one another happy, but terrified simultaneously. “I mean, I guess if you don’t want...”
Precious flies and embeds in the wall from the velocity of even her most casual toss. Her voice is flat and toneless as she mutters, “Don’t. You know better.” She reaches for an arm blade, spinning it in agitation as I stare.
Do I? Do I, really? I’m trying to get there.
Moments like this keep happening, and I find myself scared and on the edge.
As much as Rafe and I share when no one else is awake or I’m not out on a mission, I know he’s not having nearly this amount of doubt with Taurus.
What Talia will do is another story and connects to my fears.
She’s a known unknown, and it scares the living hell out of us.
“You know how much power you have over me. You ask me to stay; I stay. You ask me to die; I die. Don’t tell me you don’t know how much I love you.”
There’s the rub. I don’t doubt how much she loves me; I doubt that she’ll choose me over her neuroses. I doubt I will win if it comes down to jealousy and fear over Taurus and Rafe.
“I’m sorry. I know you love me; I do. You look so distant, and it’s making me insecure. It’s my fault, I’m sure.”
Her lips twist. “I’m not so pretty now, am I?” Expression chilly as an iceberg, she shrugs. The blade keeps spinning, nicking and slicing her fingertips, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“You’re always beautiful to me, but you’re very closed off right now. I guess I equate that with things that make me scared. I’m not as secure as I make out.” I give her a half-hearted smile, knowing that switch in behavior, that arctic chill from warmth, is a trigger point from our other mates.
Wilde would switch from gentleman to ghoul so quickly, without warning, and you did not understand what you were going into every time by the end.
Pain or pleasure—you couldn’t predict. She’s scaring the living fuck out of me, given that and her own inability to give me a solid foundation for trusting our relationship.
“I don’t think anyone is as composed as they make out.” She keeps flipping, not paying any heed to my words. “I know that I’m not.”
Tucking further into a ball against the headboard, I watch her, my chin sitting on my knees as I try not to panic and to prepare myself for something painful. “I’m feeling unhinged inside at the thought of losing you.”
“I’m aware of the feeling.”
“You’re not losing me.” I don’t know if I can get any smaller, but I wish I could. I need to be somewhere safe, and all of this is open and exposed. Her blasé responses aren’t helping, and I don’t know what to do. I’m getting close to coming unglued.
“I will.” She turns her head, eyes dead and expression matter of fact. “I’ve worked this scenario a time or a thousand times. Sari’ll get to you, you’ll get back with her, and I won’t be able to handle it. Maybe I’ll kill her and lose you that way.”
Damn it! I’m so close to discarding the exes in my heart and mind, and Rafe might be, too.
We can’t tell them that unless it’s true. There’s still some remaining, lingering loyalty I’m trying to work out, and if I can, this will be so much easier. We’re not there yet, and I don’t know what I can do to help her.
“If you don’t leave and you don’t ask me to, you won’t lose me.
I don’t even know if asking me would work because I feel like that would be a battle that might destroy me because I wouldn’t accept it.
You will only lose me if you choose to, Talia.
That is a promise.” I sigh, hoping I ease her worry.
“She and I were never like us; we were more friends than anything. It was never sexual except for the two times.”
Talia blinks and shakes her head. “You, Rafe, her, and some idiocy about Wilde. She’s setting the stage for her triumphant return.”
“No, it’s not!” I pop out of bed, getting angry. “We love you and Taurus. We’re not going anywhere!”
She doesn’t respond, and that clicks a button inside of me. The tidal wave floods the dam, and I feel it all spilling out of me. I yank Precious out of the wall, striding over to her in an infuriated haze.
“Just because she’s prowling around, plotting some garbage, doesn’t mean we’re going to give up the people we love. We’re willing to die for our family.”
“She always wins.”
Coming closer to her, I spin the large blade on my palm, not even realizing that I’m doing it, and point it at my heart. “You want to cut my heart out by saying that? Do you want to kill me by leaving? Do it the honest way. I’m tired of the games.”
I push the tip in slightly, not even wincing at the pain of it slicing into me. Blood drips down my hand and down my chest as it slides in, and she gasps. I’m watching her, waiting as she springs up and bounds over, ripping Precious out of my hand.
“Oh, God. What are you doing? No, no, no, no...”
My eyes close as I feel woozier than I should from the shallow depth that I pushed it in. She presses her forehead against mine, hand covering the wound.
Hopefully, it’ll close soon, and I can focus on this conversation we need to have again.
“No, baby, no,” she murmurs, wrapping her other arm around me. “Don’t do that. We love you.”
Exhaling, I whisper, “I didn’t know any other way to get you to listen. I had to make you believe me.”
Talia kisses me, and I feel her love and fear for me in the kiss. I try to kiss her back, but I’m growing concerned that I’m not zipped right up and feeling fine.
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t want this,” she says, tears welling in her eyes.
I have made a grievous error, and I don’t know how to admit it. “I can’t be without you, love.”
She backs me towards the bed, kissing me again, not noticing that the wound is still spilling over her hands. I let her, hoping again that I’m just delayed a bit since I’m upset emotionally and that affects my healing ability.
“I saw you in my head, leaving, destroying me.”
Welcome to my world, Talia. I see it every day in every moment like this where I wonder if today is the day that, like everyone else, you don’t choose me.
I live with that, without asking for anything more than the love you’re giving me at that moment. “I know. I’ve been there.” I cough, realizing I have to tell her. “I have to ask you something. Was Precious consecrated by any chance?”
Her eyes widen as if she realizes that she’s missed something going wrong. “I don’t know. Does that matter?”
I close my eyes. “It would make sense.”
“What?! What would make sense, Deli?” She shakes me, panicking. “What the hell is going on? What is wrong?”
I’m having trouble, so explaining this will not be easy. I’m using a lot of my strength to slow the blood flow now that I know it’s a problem. “I’m, uh, having a little trouble, um, making this close.”
Her eyes widen and I can tell she’s upset, but we don’t have time for her self-recriminations. “Wh-what do I do? Tell me what to do.”
“I think that’s it. My healing is biological—we think—but, um, there’s some magick to it, given draining and such and uh, I’m thinking.” I run my fingers over the jagged scar on my collarbone and again over the one on my ribs. “I’ve never had this happen before, so I don’t know.”
“Think, Deli. Don’t ramble; help me.”
“It’s not too deep, but it’s bleeding a lot.”
She presses her hand to the wound and growls, “Blood… you should drain me. Would that do it?”
I don’t want the first time we do that to be about this at all.
I know she and Rafe have and it’s not spiritual, but it’s something that shouldn’t be shared the first time because her insecurity caused me to stab myself.
It means more than that. Besides, I don’t think it will help.
She doesn’t have enough of me in her yet for my mutation to affect her bloodstream.
She hasn’t joined enough to pull from my magick, either.
“Damn it, this is my fault. Tell me how to fix it! Should I call the boys?”
Talia’s crying now, and I don’t know how I can make her feel better and figure out my predicament while losing blood.
I close my eyes again, trying to focus my thoughts, murmuring, “It’s not your fault.
I’m the one who stabbed myself like a fool to make a point.
I’m stopping the blood as much as I can, but it’s taking a lot of my energy to do so. ”
“I’ll call Taurus. He can help.”