Belonging. Part 8
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"d.a.m.n it, he's going to die!"
He wanted to yell. Wanted to tell them to find the owner of those eerie yellow eyes. But he couldn't talk.
When he tried, blood spurted from the gaping wounds in his throat. Too much blood.
Dying...dying...
"Move, Cori."
Cori shot a look up at Kelsey. "You're too late."
"I said, move. I've f.u.c.ked this one up enough. I'm not doing it again."
"If I let go, he's gone anyway. He's bleeding out. I can feel it."
Kelsey's breath hissed out-a frustrated, furious sigh. Then she crossed around and knelt beside Levi.
What does the witch see when she looks at him? Cori wondered. Does she see what I see? Eyes fixed, skin pale and growing paler. The vivid wash of blood. "Too late," Cori whispered again. She could feel his soul fading away from him, growing ever fainter.
"Maybe. Or maybe not."
Cori didn't bother looking at Kelsey. "I smell were. The infection's already started."
"Yeah. s.h.i.+tty choice-life as a were or no life at all but I'll give him the choice." Kelsey leaned over, cupped his face in her hands. "Levi. Do you want to live?"
Cori's jaw dropped. "Do you actually think he can talk right now?"
But Kelsey didn't pay her any attention.
A hand came down on Cori's shoulder, squeezed gently. She scented Duke, recognized him even before he crouched beside her. "He doesn't need to talk. Just needs to listen," he said, his voice flat.
Kelsey spoke again, her voice low, harsh, almost intelligible. The hairs on the back of Cori's neck stood on end and, fascinated, she looked at Kelsey once more. Kelsey was no longer looking at Levi. No, her gaze was moving up, up, as though she was tracking something that n.o.body else could see. "d.a.m.n it, man, you're running out of time. Yes or no?"
Something flashed in Kelsey's eyes and then she moved, reached down and covered Cori's hands. "Let go, Cori. I've got him now." She glanced up, over Cori's shoulder. "Duke, see if you can catch up with my husband. I'd like him to leave Hale alive long enough to answer some questions."
Duke left, but Cori barely noticed. It was the first time Cori had ever seen a healer at work. Light s.h.i.+mmered from under Kelsey's hands. The cold, wintry night air burned hot. Kelsey's eyes glowed and power flared, building until it was a raging storm in Cori's ears, in her blood, churning through her.
The power swelled, crested. Cori flinched as Levi's body arched up off the ground, his spine bowing. Life returned to his eyes and he gasped-a broken, raspy sound. Kelsey's hands fell away and Cori stared at Levi's neck, stunned.
It was whole. Marred by four jagged, red scars that stood out in sharp relief against his tanned skin.
Chapter Eight.
"You ever going to leave this room?"
Cori didn't bother looking at Kelsey. "I don't really see the need."
"Well, for starters, you need to feed. It's been a couple of days already. You can't go much longer."
"I'm aware of that."
Kelsey blew out a breath. Her scent darkened. Deepened. Sadness hung around her like a shroud. It weighed down on the older woman.
But it was nothing compared to the anguish weighing down on Cori. Guilt, grief, rage, self-doubt. It was a nasty mix, she realized. Very, very nasty, "Look, Cori...I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to do to make this better for you."
"You don't need to make anything better for me." She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. She wanted peace. Quiet. Silence.
She wanted to be left alone.
"What about him?"
Exhausted, Cori asked, "What about who?"
"Levi. Owen was his cousin, right?"
Slowly, Cori turned and faced Kelsey. The redhead stood on the other side of the room, her hands tucked into her pockets, shoulders slumped. She looked exhausted. Stressed out. Odd, for her. "Yes. They were cousins. Close, though. Very close." Cori wrapped her arms around her midsection, huddled inside herself. It hurt to think about it-a vicious, ugly pain. Owen...dead. And Levi...h.e.l.l, had she failed there or what? "Best friends."
Reluctantly, though she didn't want to ask anything of Kelsey, she found herself asking, "The wolf who attacked him-is that who killed Owen?"
"Yes." Kelsey looked down and her red-gold hair fell forward, hiding her face. "From what we can piece together, Owen was trying to find proof that people like us exist-that you were killed by a vampire right in front of him. He was like a pit bull, just wouldn't let it go. He was being monitored but apparently his monitor had a few screws loose. Instead of notifying us, he took matters into his own hands. We'll have to spend some time tracking all the people he's been a.s.signed to watch over, make sure there aren't any unusual disappearances. I'm sorry, Cori. We should have taken better care of your friend."
"Yes. You should have." Cori wanted to let it go at that. She knew Kelsey was half-sick with guilt but if Owen had been watched better, he'd still be alive. "And I should have been told."
She shot Kelsey a narrow look. "I'm not some kick-a.s.s, uber-b.i.t.c.h soldier in this army you run but I'm not a child, either. I had a right to know and not have you try to sugarcoat the details."
Kelsey inclined her head. "Agreed."
"The werewolf responsible..." she let her words trail off, licked her lips. Her gut went all hot and slippery every time she remembered what happened. She didn't want to remember, didn't want to think about that lunatic. But she was having a h.e.l.l of a time sleeping, not knowing. "Is he dead?"
"Yes. He's dead. He won't be able to do this to anybody else."
"I bet that's a huge comfort to Owen and Levi," Cori muttered. It certainly wasn't much comfort to her.
"How is Levi doing? Is he...adjusting?"
"Not too well. He's confused. He's still weak. He lost a substantial amount of blood. He was almost gone before I got to him. And the Change from mortal to were is h.e.l.l, even worse than a vampire's Change. He's angry, he's grieving...and he keeps asking about you."
"Me?"
Kelsey shrugged. "Not you specifically by name. But he keeps asking about the woman who was there that night. Doesn't quite believe anybody when we try to tell him that you're fine. I don't think he feels much of a need to believe anything we say."
Mockingly, Cori thought, Now imagine that. She just gave a jerky shrug and said, "He'll adjust. He'll have to."
"Like you have?"
Cori stared at Kelsey in silence. No, I haven't adjusted. No, I'm not doing well. But what the h.e.l.l else do you want from me?
"You can make this easier for him," Kelsey said, as though she heard the doubts, the questions, the recriminations circling through Cori's head. Piling up on her and holding her under.
"I can't make this easier." Cori clenched her hands into fists and tried not to scream. "The only thing I could have done that might have helped him would have been to protect him from that monster. That is the only thing that would have helped either of us, and I was too d.a.m.n weak to do it."
"Cori...you're not weak. You're not a fighter but that's nothing to be ashamed of."
Snorting, Cori spun back to the wall. It was a bare, empty expanse, devoid of pictures, of windows- nothing but stark, blinding white. It burned her eyes, made her head pound. But it was better to stare at nothing than to look at Kelsey and see the glaring reminder of how useless she was. "You've been a fighter your entire life, haven't you, Kelsey?"
"This isn't about me."
Woodenly, Cori replied, "No. Of course not. It's about the vampire who's so d.a.m.n weak she can't protect one stupid man from a werewolf. Not for even five minutes. His life is over now-as hard as it was going to be for him to recover, he could have recovered. He could have gone on to have a life after Owen was butchered- a nice, normal, human life. Now it's gone. And I could have done something to change that."
"Are you so sure?"
"Why else would I have been drawn there? I left, so determined, so convinced to find that...that monster, and I did. But I showed up just to watch Levi get butchered and I wasn't strong enough to stop it."
"Oh, for crying out loud, Cori, stop feeling sorry for yourself," Kelsey snapped abruptly. She flung her arms wide and said, "So you're not a fighter. Big f.u.c.king deal. You tried. Even those who are born to fight don't always put their all into it and that's what you did. You tried and whether you realize it or not, you made a difference. You were strong enough to slow him down. You stood in the way of a werewolf and you kept him from killing Levi. You held him off long enough that we had a chance to get there and if that doesn't count as something for you, then fine. So be it. I'm wasting my time but d.a.m.n it, Cori, it should matter to you. In some way, shape or form." "It's not enough," Cori snarled, pressing fisted hands to her temples. "It's not. The monster that killed Owen d.a.m.n near killed Levi. His life is ruined-"
"It's only ruined if that's how Levi decides to see it." Kelsey glared at Cori and for once, the witch didn't waste one iota of energy trying to temper her words to Cori. "Levi's got the strength of a Hunter in him. I see it already. He can make a difference. He can save lives, more lives than he'd ever be able to imagine as a mortal.
He can save others from Owen's fate, from his own, but not unless he gets it in his head to try. And right now, he's doing the same thing you are...lying in a bed, hating himself."
"I'm not lying in a bed," Cori said automatically.
"You might as well be. You might as well be lying under a bed, with the covers pulled up over your head and your hands clamped over your ears, so you hear nothing and see nothing. You're hiding. You're not a fighter, Cori, but I didn't realize you were a coward."
"Man, and I thought you were smart." Cori smirked at her. On the inside, she was appalled, couldn't quite believe how b.i.t.c.hy she was being. The bitter anger inside her was pus.h.i.+ng her, though. Pus.h.i.+ng her harder, harder.
Kelsey's eyes narrowed. Her mouth compressed into a thin, tight line. Abruptly, she scowled. "Fine. To h.e.l.l with it." She stormed out of the room, leaving Cori alone.
As the door slammed shut behind the witch, Cori turned back to the wall. Sometimes she thought the walls were closing in on her. Locked away from the sunlight forever and not strong enough to actually do anything good with what had altered when she had gone through the Change. At least not mentally. Cori wasn't a fighter. She didn't want to be a fighter. She just wanted a d.a.m.n life.
G.o.d, she ached.
She ached with grief.
Ached with loneliness.
Ached with guilt.
Ached with misery.
The dreams were enough to drive a sane man crazy. And he wasn't too steady, even aside from the dreams. He fought the rising tide of exhaustion like a man possessed because he didn't want to sleep. If he didn't sleep, he couldn't dream.
He stayed clear of the bed, wouldn't let himself sit. If he did, he was going to fall asleep and he didn't want to sleep. Fatigue made him clumsy, though, had him stumbling into a wall and he slapped a hand against it to keep from falling. "Can't fight it forever," he muttered, grinding the heel of his hand against one eye socket.
No. He couldn't fight sleep forever but he'd fight it for as long as he could. Shoving away from the wall, he continued to prowl the room he'd awoken in, three days earlier.
Three days. f.u.c.k. Had it only been three days?
Yeah. Just three. He'd missed Owen's funeral. Slept right through it and that was an ache that wasn't ever going to go away.
So many of them...the girl, where was the girl? What had happened to her? Was she okay? Another gaping wound in his heart. If she'd gotten hurt because of him...or worse...s.h.i.+t, the guilt. Guilt. Grief. Driving him crazy. In the past week, his life had just gone straight to h.e.l.l. It hadn't looked that pretty before but now- he'd give anything to go back a week. Turn back time and get to Owen's place, get him out of there before that- He stopped in his tracks, stopped in his thoughts. Couldn't let himself think it. Couldn't let himself know it.
"Werewolf," he whispered, lowering his gaze to his hands and staring at them. In a few weeks, the moon would be full and this time he would be the one turning into a monster.
A week. If he could go back in time, maybe he could save his cousin from the werewolf who had killed him. Owen would be alive. So would the girl. And Levi could have his life back. Empty as it had been, he wanted it back. Wanted some kind of normal back.
He stumbled again, this time onto the bed, but he wasn't quick enough to catch himself and he ended up sprawled on the bed, half on the floor.
"Get up." But he couldn't. His lids drooped and he swore. He couldn't fight it any longer. His muscles were leaden, his limbs stiff. He managed to fumble his clothes off, though it took two tries to get his d.a.m.n zipper down. He managed, barely.
"No dreams this time," he muttered, his voice thick.
And then sleep came.
With sleep came dreams.
Dreams where he ran through the woods on four feet instead of two. Dreams where he raced and hunted and brought down prey. Dreams where he sank his teeth into flesh and gloried in it. Then there were dreams where things chased him, monsters that drew close to him, breathing on him with hot, fetid breath that stank of blood and death. Then he would turn on them and instead of them taking him down, he was the attacker. He was the one ripping, rending, tearing at their flesh.
But not all the dreams were of the blood-and-gore variety. Some were of the flesh. Sweat-slicked, hot and hungry flesh and made the hormone-laden dreams from his teenaged years seem tame. s.e.x-the mind- blowing kind that made him forget anything and everything. Sort of like the s.e.x he'd had in the alley with the woman whose face he still hadn't seen.
She was the star of those dreams. That slender, almost delicate body, her slick p.u.s.s.y, the way her cool skin heated more and more with every stroke until she was fire in his arms. Her soft moans, the way her skin smelled of vanilla, orange blossoms and pure woman.
One of those dreams held him captive now. Groaning, he thrashed on the bed, the sheets tangled at the foot, all the blankets long since kicked to the floor. Burning, sweating, he rolled over and pressed his face against the pillow. He pumped his hips against the mattress, while in the dream, he was pumping her, f.u.c.king her hard, deep, as she knelt before him on her hands and knees with her a.s.s in the air.
Her skin was as cool as the night and moon pale. Slipping his hands up, he cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and squeezed her nipples. She moaned and thrust those small, perfect t.i.ts into his hands even as she pushed her rump back against him, working herself up and down his rigid d.i.c.k.
"What's your name?" he whispered, twining a hand in her hair and drawing her up and back. He wrapped his arms around her torso, pinned her against him.
She wiggled and rocked, squirmed against him. "f.u.c.k me, Levi...please f.u.c.k me..."
He pressed his hand to her belly and stilled her movements. His c.o.c.k jerked, swathed in the wet velvet of her p.u.s.s.y. f.u.c.k her, f.u.c.k her, f.u.c.k her-his body screamed at him. His head echoed the screams.
But his heart...in his heart, he kept hearing her voice, hearing the fear as she told him to run. He'd known she wouldn't follow. He'd known she was afraid. He'd known she expected to die, but still, she'd tried to protect him. It broke his heart. That soft, s.e.xy sweetheart trying to protect him. "What's your name, sugar?" he rasped, bending his head and pressing his lips to her neck. Her pulse leaped against the fragile s.h.i.+eld of skin.
Going crazy-Levi knew he was going crazy. He shouldn't be able to hear the rhythm of her heartbeat.
Shouldn't be able to so easily pick up on the rich, ripe scent of her body. That scent-it was f.u.c.king bizarre how acutely he could smell her. Smell lotion, shampoo and soap, little subtleties he'd never noticed before.
Belonging. Part 8
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Belonging. Part 8 summary
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