Immortal Wounds

by Nicole Grane

  Chapter 6: Confession Time

  I put my hand over my mouth as I yawned unexpectedly.

  “It’s late,” Marcus said as he rose from the bed. “You’ve had an unusually long day,”

  “NO!” I grabbed his arm, pulling him back beside me. I felt suddenly flushed. I didn’t want to tell him, but I knew that my reaction to him leaving would not be swept under the rug.

  He gave me a quizzical look.

  “I’m afraid to go to sleep,” I admitted. “I don’t want to dream anymore, and I don’t want to be asleep if that monster comes back.” I felt myself nearing hysterics.

  Marcus reached out, placing his hands at the base of my neck. His fingers gently rubbed, as if trying to sooth me—it didn’t work.

  “I mean, what am I supposed to do? How would I fight it? Do I need a gun—are we talking silver bullets? Marcus, I’m not that good with a gun, and if it comes to sword fighting like in my dream . . .”

  He put his hand over my mouth, silencing me. His face grew serious, his eyes flashing black with anger. “He’ll never touch you.”

  I found myself inching slowly away from him. His words made me cringe, and although they were not meant for me, they terrified me, almost as much as the look on his face.

  “Phoebe I’m sorry,” he reached out quickly, taking my hand in his, and pulling me back to him. “I don’t want you to fear me.” His eyes were a soft brown again. Tender, like his words. I didn’t doubt that he meant them. But still . . . there was something strange and familiar about his eyes. About the way he looked at me.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  My thoughts darted around my mind, back to my kitchen when he asked if I had noticed anything different about him. I had been distracted, but now . . . I gasped, as I began to fit the pieces together. “Your eyes,” I breathed. “They change colors with your mood.”

  His face paled. He watched me anxiously, not making a move.

  “You’re incredibly fast,” I whispered under my breath, as I remember how Marcus had grabbed me as I fell off the trail on the cliff. “You can fly!” He stood there, frozen while I ticked away the evidence, one item at a time.

  “Your skin—” My eyes dropped to his hands, the cool hands that had just held mine. “They’re always cold . . .” I shook my head in disbelief.

  “Phoebe.” Marcus reached for me, and then paused, as if changing his mind.

  “You growl and hiss like some sort of animal when it’s cornered,” I insisted. “Your body tenses up every time my heart beats faster . . . my pulse gets stronger, and you . . .” My eyes locked with his as I put the last piece in place. I stared at him knowingly. “You’re not afraid of blood, are you?” My question was completely rhetorical. He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. “You’re attracted to it!”

  Marcus’s face fell.

  “No! It’s not possible.” I shook my head again, this time in disbelief. Hoping he would tell me I was wrong. “You can’t be . . .”

  Marcus said nothing and watched as shock engulfed me once again. There was nothing he could do.

  My hands gripped my neck—the neck his mouth had been all over minutes ago.

  “They’re not real!” I told him, as if we’d been having a two-way conversation. As soon as I said it, I knew that couldn’t necessarily be true. We’d just been discussing what percent werewolf I can add to my pedigree.

  “Marcus . . .” My words broke off. This was crazy; there was no way I was going to say what I was thinking out loud. After the werewolf insult . . . no way! “No!” I shook my head and rose from the bed.

  “Phoebe, we have to talk about this.” He spoke firmly as he saw my sudden change of thought.

  “No we don’t. This is ridiculous . . . I don’t even care!” I laughed nervously, trying to push the revelation from my mind.

  “Phoebe,” he warned.

  “No!” I spun around facing him squarely. “I know it seems as if we just met, but somehow I don’t believe that . . . and neither do you!” I pointed out quickly before he could object. “I’m falling in love with you, again.” My eyes shifted uneasily. “It doesn’t matter what we are. You’re Marcus—just Marcus!”

  I moved past him and opened my dresser with more force than necessary. I randomly grabbed some pajamas from the drawer and turned toward the bathroom. He was blocking my way.

  “You’re falling in love with me?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  “Of course I am. How could I not?” I motioned to his perfection.

  He sighed. “This isn’t going to go away Phoebe. We need to talk about this.” He sounded so rational, so calm, that I hated having to disappoint him.

  “There’s nothing to talk about . . .” I held the palm of my hand against his cheek. “I’m fine!” I assured, trying to ignore the cold against my skin. It wasn’t freezing, but it was noticeably cooler. I forced a smile for him. He’s just Marcus I told myself.

  He reached up, took my hand, and held it gently between his before he pressed a kiss across the top of it.

  “Stay with me tonight. Please. Whatever you are, you don’t scare me.” I wasn’t sure whom I was trying to convince. All I knew was that I didn’t want to be separated from Marcus again. My need to have him near me was stronger than ever.

  “Phoebe . . .” he spoke slowly now. His words meaning to sooth, not infuriate me, but that’s exactly what they did. “You can’t help but be afraid of me; it’s instinctive. Maybe in time . . . we’re just not ready.” He sighed. “It’s best if I don’t stay with you. I won’t be far, should you need me.”

  He won’t be far? Should I need him? Of course I needed him! Hadn’t I just told him that I was afraid to be alone? And now he was telling me that he was leaving me? That we weren’t ready to be together? Something inside me snapped.

  “Fine. Go.” I pulled my hand from his and walked toward the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower. You can let yourself out,” I said bravely over my shoulder. I wasn’t going to stand here any longer and listen to him telling me how much he loved me but couldn’t be with me speech. If he thought I was one of those silly girls that could be lead on, he was sorely mistaken.

  He caught my arm firmly. “Don’t be angry.” His voice was weary. “There is still so much you don’t know.”

  I wouldn’t look at him.

  “Phoebe, you don’t know how long I’ve loved and protected you,” he began. His hands moved up and down my arms gently, the friction warming my skin. I could feel my heart start to beat faster. I was sure he could too. Why was he doing this to me?

  “You don’t know the life we had. The life I remember that you can’t possibly and most likely never will.” There was so much pain in his voice; it tugged at my heart. “You don’t know what it did to me when I lost you. You can’t even let yourself imagine what I am.”

  “Then tell me,” I breathed. I still wouldn’t look at him. I wouldn’t chance a glance at those eyes, those beautiful eyes . . . if he loved me like he said, he’d prove it. He’d be honest with me. He’d stop toying with me, bringing my heart to the point of explosion, and then stomping out the flames. If he loved me, he wouldn’t leave me to the wolves . . . again.

  “I won’t make you fear me anymore than I have,” he finally said, his voice a little tighter.

  I pursed my lips. That was not the admission I’d hoped for. “I know more than you realize,” I admitted reluctantly. “I know that it was your name I was calling for the night I died. Wasn’t it?”

  For a moment, I thought Marcus had stopped breathing. I looked back over my shoulder and met his bewildered stare.

  “How could you know that?” His words were barely a whisper.

  I bit my lip, deliberating my answer. “When I was lying on the road tonight, praying for death, it was just like in my dream, only then you never came for me.”

  His eyes glossed over. “I was too late.” I could hear the devastation in his words.

&nb
sp; I stared at him for a moment. “I had another life, didn’t I? A life with you . . .”

  He looked uneasily at me, as if debating whether or not to answer.

  I nodded my head in understanding. He didn’t really have to say it. I knew by the look in his eyes that I’d guessed correctly. Somehow, I’d already known. Marcus and I had had another life together. And by some miracle, we’d found each other again. So why was he pushing me away?

  I turned toward him and cupped his face with my hand, claiming his attention. His skin was soft, smooth, like the wings of a butterfly. I marveled at the feel of it. “I promise Marcus, I’m not afraid of you. Whatever you are, you’re not dangerous to me. You’d never hurt me.” My heart betrayed me. The very touch of his skin jump-started it. I debated for half a second before drawing my arms up around him. I kissed him desperately.

  He hesitated then pulled me closer, eagerly meeting each kiss. His hands were around my neck, holding my face to his.

  “We need each other,” I breathed out, my lips claiming his again and again. I could feel it in my very bones. This felt right. I did need him, like he needed me.

  “I do need you.” He kissed me harder. “I need you alive!” With what looked to be all his strength, he pulled away from me. I staggered back a little, my body crying out in protest.

  “I’m more dangerous than you can imagine,” he shook his head. There was no play in his words.

  “What does it matter who or what we are as long as we love each other?” I demanded. My resolve was strong. “I know you love me; I can feel it!”

  “I do love you!” he snapped. His admission should have brought a smile to my face. But it didn’t. He was pushing me away still, and I didn’t understand why. I could feel my blood start to boil again.

  “I’m not staying with you until you know what I am. Not until you know the risk you’re taking being this close to me. You’re not ready yet. I saw that tonight,” he added with regret in his voice.

  Not ready? “I think I’m capable of deciding whether or not I’m ready to love someone.”

  “Not this time,” he mused.

  “I don’t understand you,” I scoffed. “You say you love me. You’ve all but admitted that we’ve had another life together . . . and here I am, willing to love you again, and you’re pushing me away? I’m just asking you to stay with me—that’s all!”

  He cut me a look that suggested he wasn’t going to dignify my challenge with an answer.

  I threw my hands into the air. “Fine. You don’t want to stay with me—don’t. I can take care of myself.” I turned and walked away from him, madder than ever. “I’ll bet Brian wouldn’t leave me to the wolves,” I mumbled angrily under my breath.

  Marcus appeared in front of me, stopping me short, his face tight with anger. He leaned in, close. The anger radiating off his body surprised me. “I’d kill him before he reached the door.” His eyes were as black as ebony, deadly—like his threat.

  I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. My heart was pounding wildly from within as I studied his expression. He still hadn’t backed away from me. The closeness of his body and the sweet smell of his breath called to me again. I tried to ignore it.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered softly. I was still shaken by his reaction. My words came out broken, weak.

  “Phoebe you don’t understand,” he growled, his eyes still fixed on me. “I could kill you!” His words were harsh and absolute.

  “How?” I beseeched. “We’ve made love before, I never died from that.”

  His hard expression faltered. “I won’t lose you again.” His hand came up, cupping my cheek.

  “Lose me? You won’t lose—”

  “No!” He held my shoulders tight, his fingers pressing into skin. “This conversation is over.” His walls were back up. Marcus’s resolve was stronger than ever. He released me, turned his back, and started to leave.

  All sense of rationale left me. I was beyond mad. It wasn’t so much that he kept tugging at my heartstrings, only to keep me at bay . . . Marcus was hiding things from me—deliberately! Things I desperately needed to know.

  He kept walking.

  “You shouldn’t have let me think you wanted me too,” I yelled after him. “Maybe we were together in another life; maybe you did love me, but obviously not enough. You let him hunt me down and slaughter me!” I was shouting, spitting the words with such venom, I didn’t know where they’d come from. “I screamed for you! You left me to die, and now it’s happening all over again!”

  I watched as the muscles in his back tensed with each tongue-lashing I gave—I wasn’t finished. “Just save yourself the trouble of pretending to care and keep walking. Let him kill me. Or better yet, why don’t you just do it yourself! Since I’m part werewolf anyway, you have an excuse!”

  Marcus stopped at my bedroom door.

  I put my hand over my mouth. I’d crossed the line, and I knew it. I had been so angry I didn’t think how cutting my words might be. I hadn’t cared. I was mad that he was lying to me. And I was terrified that he might actually walk out of my life—I’d surely driven him away now.

  I could feel his tension. One hand was on the doorknob—squeezing it so tight I thought it would break off. The other was balled in a fist at his side. I could see his whole body seething with rage.

  I moved away from him in case he turned around. I decided I didn’t want to be that close to him after all.

  Marcus turned to face me, his eyes filled with anger. His lips were pressed together in a hard line. He was terrifying, more than my nightmare had been.

  “Well, you get my point,” I stuttered nervously. “I’ll just see you later . . . maybe?” I held my hands out at arm’s length, motioning him to stay where he was and retreated backward slowly toward the bathroom.

  “You think I left you to DIE?” Marcus thundered.

  I jumped, dropping my pajamas from my hands.

  The gap between us was getting smaller. He was closing in on me slowly. I had backed myself against a wall—there was nowhere to go. He was extremely close now, holding my arms firmly again; it didn’t hurt, but I wasn’t going anywhere.

  “You don’t know how many of those beasts I had to fight through, only to find your dead body. All because you wouldn’t stay where you were told! You can’t imagine what that did to me!” His face was full of pain.

  I couldn’t speak. I was frozen with fear and a newfound guilt. Was that Phoebe somehow responsible for her own death?

  “Maybe I loved you? You don’t think I love you now? I’ve never loved anyone but you!” His words were harsh as he spit them at me. Yet they were also full of a sadness I could never fathom.

  “I’m leaving because I . . . love . . . you! Because I can’t bear the thought of hurting you! I could never live with myself if I . . .” He shook his head back and forth, as if trying to shake away the thought. “You have no idea how badly I want you. How long I’ve waited to hold you again. And here you are . . . so close . . . so willing to love me back, and I can’t give you that. It takes all my strength to fight my instincts.” He looked longingly at me. “Your heart beating next to me . . . your pulse racing when I touch you . . . you think I can’t feel that?” he growled in frustration. “I’m denying my very existence by turning away from you now.” He was nowhere near finished yelling at me. And I deserved it. To a point.

  “Your control seems just fine.” The words didn’t come out as strong as I’d intended. I lifted my chin slightly. “You seem to have no problem kissing me, then pushing me away.” My voice came back as I removed his hands from me. “I shouldn’t have been so open. I shouldn’t have trusted you with my heart like that. I can’t imagine what I was thinking?”

  Marcus’s eyes flashed blacker as a low growl came from his throat. He was truly frightening. I tried to step away from him, but he grabbed my waist and lifted me so fast my back slammed into the wall behind me. “You think I don’t want you?” His body p
ushed up against mine, pinning me. He had one hand on my waist and the other on my thigh, his fingers gripping me tightly.

  I trembled against him. My heart pounded faster as his cool breath licked at my neck. “I can taste your skin without even touching you,” he said breathlessly. His face moved along my throat, his nose, inhaling deeply. “I can smell your fear even now.” he pressed his lips against my skin.

  I gasped at the abruptness of it.

  “I can feel your heart beating from across the room.” His voice was strained. His eyes were fierce, animal like. I felt as if I could be eaten alive at any moment. I tried to look away, but his amber eyes drew me in deeper, the anger in them being replaced by desire.

  “Do you honestly think I don’t want to kiss your lips?” His mouth took mine forcefully, the very taste of it, intoxicating. I couldn’t resist kissing him back. I didn’t want to. “I can feel your blood moving through your veins,” he whispered into my ear causing me to shiver once again. “It calls to me . . .” His eyes, still smoldering, watched my shaken reaction. “I’ve never loved anyone but you . . .” His voice cracked. His tone had changed. It was softer now, like swirling honey. I closed my eyes and let myself drown in it.

  “I told you I’d never hurt you . . . that doesn’t mean I couldn’t.” he said with frustration. “If I lost control with you, I could easily kill you. I don’t know if I’m strong enough . . . if I have it in me to not . . . I’d never had to worry about your humanity before. You and I were the same.”

  I stared at him open mouthed. Bits and pieces of my dream were fitting together before my eyes. No. I wouldn’t let them. I pushed the thoughts away. He was Marcus I kept telling myself. Just Marcus!

  “Being with you . . . close like this . . . makes me lose all sense of myself.” His mouth glided across my neck again.

  I swallowed loudly. I could feel the walls closing in around me, suffocating me. “I trust you.” My words came out shaky. I didn’t believe them myself.

  “You’re not, understanding me.”

  My heart pounded with a need I’d never felt before. He loved me—that’s all I needed to hear. Marcus opened his mouth to speak, and that’s when I kissed him, hard and heady.

  He pulled his face back abruptly, his mouth, nearly gasping for air. “Phoebe, if I bite you you’ll die!”

  The harshness of his words cut deep. I took in so much air that I started to hyperventilate. My eyes were large with panic. “I . . . can’t . . .” my words broke off. Hearing Marcus say it out loud sent me over the edge.

  He released me instantly and sat me on the floor. His amber eyes were turning brown as he watched me anxiously. He pushed my head between my legs. “Breathe.”

  It wasn’t working. I was having a full-blown panic attack. I knew what he was telling me. I’d known it. But I didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t be. This wasn’t happening! I was shaking my hands in front of me, trying to distract myself. “I . . . was . . . right?” I said each word between gasps of air.

  “You’ve got to calm down Phoebe, breathe!” He urged again.

  “You’re . . . a vampire?” I gasped again, struggling for each breath.

  This was absurd: werewolves outside, vampires inside. Is Frankenstein going to knock on my door next? No, no, no! He didn’t say that, I misunderstood. He’d said we were the same once?

  Marcus was furious with himself. “Phoebe, can you ever forgive me? I didn’t mean to scare you like that. You got me so frustrated.” He was gritting his teeth a little. “I wanted you to understand. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t punish you because you can’t remember.” There was anguish in his words. “I’ll never hurt you like that again,” he said as he put his hands around my face, trying to hold me still.

  I grasped his wrists with my hands and looked at him with pleading eyes. Praying that he would tell me this was all a bad dream. But deep down I knew he couldn’t. “You’re . . . a vampire?” I asked again. The word came out a little clearer this time.

  “Yes,” he said flatly. His eyes stared squarely into mine.

  “I was a . . .” I couldn’t say it. “NO! You . . . can’t be . . .” I shook my head.

  “Phoebe, you need to calm down. You’re not in any danger, I swear, I won’t hurt you.”

  I trusted him. I couldn’t explain why, but I trusted him without question. I just couldn’t catch my breath. This was all too much to take in. “It’s . . . okay . . . I’m fine . . . Really.”

  “You are not fine. Now quit trying to talk and breathe slowly,” he scolded. His eyes were a lighter shade of brown now. All signs of anger were gone.

  I sat there on the floor with my head between my knees for some time before I felt like I could speak without passing out.

  When I looked up, I found Marcus watching me anxiously. All signs of aggression—gone.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked. His voice was calmer now, yet still guarded.

  “Fine.”

  He studied me for a few moments longer. “Phoebe, I’m so sorry I scared you.” He reached out to take my hand. I flinched, drawing it close to me.

  Marcus paused and nodded his head in understanding. A look of sadness hung in his eyes.

  I couldn’t bear that. He had terrified me, but I couldn’t stand the tortured look he now wore. I forced a smile. “I guess I should take that shower now.” I moved to my feet. A sudden wave of dizziness hit me. I held my head in my hands. Marcus caught me as I fell back.

  “You’re in shock.” He looked really worried now.

  “Shock?” I half laughed. “Why would I be in shock?”

  “I think that shower should wait,” he suggested firmly.

  “I’m fine, I just felt dizzy. I must have gotten up too quickly, that’s all.” I stood up, slower this time, holding my head until I felt oriented. “See? I’m perfectly fine.” I smiled at him as I wobbled into the bathroom and shut the door. He hadn’t looked convinced.

  “Phoebe, would you like me to leave?” he called through the door, his voice sounding tired now.

  “Leave? Why would I want you to leave? I’ll just be a few minutes. There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry!” I shouted out as I turned on the shower water and got in.

  The hot water eventually dulled my senses. The sharp sting that had hit my wounds had all but vanished. I let the water run down my face and body . . . I was beyond tired.

  “Shock?” I mumbled to myself. Why would he think I’m in shock? That’s ridiculous!

  My thoughts drifted deeper and deeper as my eyes fell shut. It felt good to close them. I was so exhausted; I just wanted to sleep. I leaned my head on the side of the shower wall, letting the hot water sooth me as I drifted off . . .