Sleeping with Monsters

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Sleeping with Monsters Page 29

by Hutchins, Amelia


  “Kitty, what the fuck?” Spyder’s deep baritone voice filled my ears, forcing me to clap my hands over my ears as his voice echoed inside my head, piercingly loud. I managed to rise again and leaned against the wall. I started to fall backwards, unable to hold myself upright, and felt his hands catching me before I could make it back to the floor. He hefted me up against his chest as he started walking. His hand moved and then he spoke. “We got a fucking problem, meet me in your room, now,” he ordered and then pushed his phone back into his pocket.

  It took him seconds to reach the room I’d been stumbling so hard to reach. I was placed gently onto the bed, and he loomed above me. His blue gaze stared down into mine with a look of horror as he turned from me as the door opened.

  “What the hell was so bloody important… Lena?” Lucian’s words trailed off as he took in the blood gushing from my nose continually. “What happened?” he demanded of Spyder, who shrugged and stepped back.

  “I found her in the hall by following a trail of blood,” he said softly. “That’s a lot of fucking blood, and it isn’t stopping, Lucian.”

  “A spell?” Lucian mused as I tried to move my head to look at him, only I couldn’t. My strength was waning, and even though I was on the bed, everything was spinning. “Get Vlad in here, now,” he demanded as he knelt beside me. “Hold on, Lena, I’ll fix this.”

  Chapter 28

  I awoke to someone touching my face. My eyelids felt weighted but I managed to pry them open. I stared up at a young man, who peered down at me with curiosity. I could feel that my nose had been packed, and Vlad sat beside me, an IV hooked into his arm as he stared at me, smirking.

  “You had us worried, pretty girl,” Vlad explained.

  “Why is there an IV attached from your arm to mine?” I mumbled through the cotton in my mouth. I sounded like shit. My nose had been packed with gauze, and everything sounded off. I brought my free hand up to my ear, finding it packed as well.

  “You were bleeding from your nose, ears, and eyes when Spyder found you in the hallway,” Vlad murmured as his hand intertwined with mine, holding it still. I started to sit up only for the man who had loomed over me to push me back down.

  “You’re not well,” he stated firmly. “We have yet to figure out what caused this to happen to you.”

  “This is Eliran, a friend of mine, Lena. He’s skilled in healing and one of the most treasured healers of Faery. He saved you, let him do his job.”

  “Faery?” I muttered at the man working around me. Unlike the others, he didn’t have the rings around his irises and he looked exhausted. According to legends, the Fae never aged and yet he looked exhausted, older than the others I’d encountered, including the ones I’d met here.

  “Aye, from Faery,” he supplied as he grabbed my wrist and took my pulse. “She’s stable, but until we know what caused her to bleed so much, she should remain in bed.”

  The door opened and we all turned to watch as Lucian, Spyder, Ryder, Synthia, and a ton of others poured through it. I swallowed as Synthia’s electric blue gaze searched mine. I’d discovered she could change them at will; either that, or they were triggered by her moods. I still hadn’t figured her out, or what she was yet.

  “She’s awake and recovered?” Lucian asked Eliran and I snorted. “Lena, what the fuck happened?” he demanded as his body swung in my direction, changing course. He dismissed Eliran before he could even answer the question.

  “I don’t remember,” I lied. “I was walking and then everything just went haywire.” I wasn’t throwing Kendra under the bus; I no longer trusted her, but until I knew why she’d done it, I would keep that tidbit to myself.

  “You were leaking blood from every orifice on your face when Spyder found you. If he hadn’t discovered you when he had you’d be dead right now,” Lucian snapped angrily, as if he could force me to tell him what happened. “This happened inside my club, where I vowed you would be safe, Lena.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that I can’t remember anything happening,” I growled as I fought against Eliran to get up. After a few moments of struggling, Lucian traded him places and pulled me up carefully, allowing Vlad to adjust the flow of the blood he was so graciously donating.

  I settled into Lucian’s body as I stared at where the thick blood disappeared into my vein. Eliran moved to his supplies, drawing my attention back to him and the silent room who watched as he brought a chest over to Vlad and set it down beside him. He withdrew the needle from his arm, softly placing a pad of gauze on his arm before he did the same to mine.

  “Apply pressure for a few moments,” he ordered firmly as he slowly backed away and placed his hands behind his back, as he began to explain what he’d found. “As far as I can tell, she’s fine other than the loss of blood. She has no other symptoms that I can find, or any telltale signs of it being a spell. Whatever happened, it hadn’t been meant to kill her; harm her, yes. Murder, there’s no proof of; more to the point, it could have been a spell she did herself that went awry. My worry is, without knowing what caused it, or which spell was used, we cannot prevent it from reoccurring.”

  “You think I did this to myself?” I asked, releasing the gauze as I pulled the others from my nose and ears. The room whirled with sounds the moment I did. I swallowed bile as it struck me on all fronts. The mixtures of smells were obnoxious, overwhelming as I brought my hand up to cover my nose. I could see a thousand times better; everything was brighter, more vivid and the Fae were even more beautiful. “What did you do to me?” I demanded softly as I turned to look at Vlad accusingly, and noted his silver eyes twirled in an intricate pattern that I’d never noticed before today. His skin was flawless, his hair a rich blackish-blue that caught the light and reflected both colors gorgeously.

  “I’m a vampire, Lena. You received my blood,” he pointed out slowly as to not overwhelm me. “It heals faster than magic could have, and it will rebuild the cells you lost. You will, however, experience things how I do for a little while. My blood should be out of your system within a day or two as it recirculates and you build your own cells and replenish your normal blood volume.”

  “You smell everyone like this? How do you manage it?” I asked.

  “Ahh, there’s benefits to that one. Such as smelling a woman who is aroused,” he chuckled.

  “Enough,” Lucian rumbled, and I slipped my hand into his, loving how it fit and hating it at the same time. “You don’t remember anything?” he asked sharply.

  “I remember people walking down the hallway, and then someone said something but I didn’t catch what was being said. A few moments later pain exploded inside of me and I woke up on the floor, bleeding from my nose, with Spyder picking me up.”

  “You didn’t see who it was who walked by you?” Spyder asked from the shadows and the entire room looked at him. I would never get used to him blending into the shadows, which seemed to caress him as a lover would. “You were screaming for them to shut up the entire time I carried you into the room. You were shouting even when you were unconscious, screaming for them to stop. No one was inside the room with us, and yet you held your ears and continued to beg them to stop screaming.”

  “I don’t remember that,” I answered honestly.

  “Are the grimoires inside of you speaking yet?” Synthia interjected into the conversation softly. “It’s been weeks, Lena. You should be dead by now, by all recounts of history. The only witch to last more than a few hours that we could find was a dark witch, one who had little to no information reported in our history.”

  “You wouldn’t find a history of a dark witch in any records,” I admitted, knowing I was spilling information I should be guarding. “It’s forbidden to even speak of them once they have died, for fear they will return from the grave. Dark witches were never documented; their entire line was sometimes erased to hide the shame from a coven’s
past doings. Dark witches are stronger, live longer, and are unnatural. It’s for that reason the covens forbid them to be a piece of any history to any coven. Your coven is different, but witches who allow the darkness inside of them and those born to it are different creatures. One is evil from birth, the other is by choice. In the end, no trace of them is to remain in our history. Like a blemish, you remove it.”

  “And you, Lena, which one are you?” Synthia surprised me by asking.

  “I use white magic; black witches are unable to cast such a thing,” I pointed out as Lucian’s arms tightened around me. “If I was a dark witch casting white magic, you would know. Everyone would know.”

  “And why is that?” she asked.

  “We would know,” Lucian agreed. “She would turn dark; thick lines of black poison would run through her veins, and her eyes would turn completely black with the darkness. It would consume her soul and devour any control she held. We would all know if Lena turned to the darkness, because she’d be unable to control it, even with how powerful she is. When a witch turns dark, it’s near impossible to hide it from anyone.”

  “Then let’s pray she doesn’t succumb to the grimoires, because at least three of those names who once owned them traced back to tainted bloodlines. Everyone leaves a trail, Lena. No matter how hard you work to erase someone from history, there’s always something left behind.”

  I stared at Synthia and struggled to swallow past the lump in my throat. “If I turn evil because of them, put me down,” I whispered, watching her flinch from my request. “I can’t be allowed to hurt the people I love. If I can control it, fine. If I can’t, you have to end it. Don’t make Lucian or Spyder do it. Promise me it; you’re trained to kill creatures. If I become evil, it means that I am no longer alive in this body. I will fight until my last breath to remain in control, but if I lose it, it means it eradicated me. No one should ever have to live with that. Lucian doesn’t deserve to have to endure it. My family won’t be able to, so I’m asking you to do it.”

  “You are aware that they are not as they pretend to be,” she smirked as she sat on the bed and grabbed my hand. “Are you aware of what I am?” she asked carefully.

  “Definitely not human and not Fae,” I answered softly. “Your eyes change color, and you’re married to him,” I pointed out with a nod of my head. “He’s the Horde King, eyes the color of freshly spun gold thread with the solar system captured in their ember depths. His wings are as soft as gossamer, and yet wield death with their aim, he is final death for mortal and Fae alike. I have heard the tales about him. But you, you are something else entirely. My gut says Goddess, and yet you wear the glamour of the Fae upon your face, which is curious. The others are easy. The last time you came, you left out what you’d become. You only said what you were.”

  “You are very observant, that is a good thing. It bothers me, though, that you failed to see who did harm to you. Because it makes me think you’re protecting someone who tried to hurt you. If they tried to harm or kill you, are they really worth protecting? Unless it was blood? Your sister, perhaps,” she thought out loud as she stared at me for any telltale sign I was lying.

  “Kendra wouldn’t do this to me,” I uttered.

  “We are discussing the same sister who abandoned you when you snuck into the Guild nearly a week ago, right?” she asked, a saucy smirk filling her full lips.

  “She is blood, but she’s also my twin. If it had been her, I would know it. We are connected, and unlike your coven, ours is united through more than just a vow. We are one; when one falls, we pick them up. When one strays, we bring them home.”

  “And yet they left you in Portland,” Spyder pointed out with a hiss, and I frowned. I couldn’t argue that. But then I’d left on my own and I’d made sure they couldn’t follow me.

  “She needs to rest. They will expect her to attend the soiree tomorrow,” Lucian growled as he pulled me closer as if he thought to protect me. “I would like to extend my thanks and ask that you stay close for the next few days as we discover who it was who tried to harm her. There are over a thousand witches inside this club at the moment. After tomorrow, a few selected will turn to darkness to protect their covens. As you are aware, it can turn deadly rather quickly and I have given my word that we will protect the white witches during the process. I would owe you a favor at your time of choosing,” he said carefully. I somehow knew him saying it was larger than he made it sound, as if owing anyone a favor bothered him greatly.

  “We will stay, for the witches, of course. You will not owe us for it, Lucian, she will,” Synthia said, and Ryder, who had been observing us, snorted. “For the witches, and the ones we could not save of the Guild, I will do what I can to help your coven, Lena. You will owe me something in return, and I will vow that the Fae will protect your family and coven from any harm as the others turn to the darkness.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded. “I accept.”

  Chapter 29

  I remained in my room for the rest of the night and long into the morning hours, refusing to see anyone except Spyder and Lucian. Both had stayed close to my side throughout that time. The voices had dulled to a whisper, but no matter how much I tried to ignore them, they never stopped speaking. I couldn’t make out their muted words, but if I tried to listen to them, they would go silent. It was as if they knew or felt that I was eavesdropping on their conversations going on inside my head.

  Sitting on the edge of the tub, I placed my fingers into the water, testing it. I slowly dropped rose petals and bath salts Lucian had brought into the water. I listened as slow music played in the bedroom; knowing it was driving Spyder a little crazy brought a smile to my lips. Lucian was on witch duty, probably being driven insane by my grandmother and mother.

  Letting the silk robe drop from my shoulders and pool at my feet, I stepped in. It took effort to shut out the world, along with the voices. Sometimes it sounded like static and other times it became constant chattering that made no sense. The spell I’d tried hadn’t worked, and I was out of options.

  The more pages I flipped through, the less confident I became of which spells had once belonged to the dark witches or white witches. Had I accidently already cast a dark spell? It was possible, and what Synthia said could happen. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to control what happened inside of me. I’d absorbed entire grimoires, and now I was faced with the cost of doing my actions.

  I knew what was coming tomorrow, knew that I’d pushed for it, and maybe I’d been wrong to do it. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it, or lobbied for it. I was newly awakened and yet I’d run my mouth in affairs I shouldn’t have. What if my secrets came to light? What if the entire reason I’d fled the coven was revealed, or all my effort to hide it was undone? What if everything went wrong and it was all for nothing? Once you fully embraced the darkness, it couldn’t be undone. Death was the only release, which I knew more than anyone else. I’d battled it and won, and I’d paid for it. I’d won, but only because I’d found a way to lock it inside of me.

  I sank fully beneath the water, staring up at the ceiling as I weighed the consequences of my actions. The voices got louder, as if they felt my uncertainty and fears. The voices that said the bad things inside my head, were they the dark witches? Was that what my friends and the others would become? I closed my eyes as I released air, slowly letting the fire in my lungs ignite until I rocketed out of the water, gasping for air.

  Spyder stared at me as I gasped at him from where he stood against the wall, enshrouded in the darkest corner of the room. “Ah, kitty, that’s never the answer,” he murmured as he stepped forward.

  “I wasn’t committing suicide, jerk,” I growled as I covered myself the best I could. “I worry about tomorrow. I pushed for this, Spyder. What if I was wrong?” I asked, and he smirked.

  “Dark witches aren’t evil right away, and we’ll put them down if they
step out of line tomorrow,” he assured me with a shrug, as if he didn’t even consider their lives worth anything. “Don’t you glare at me like that; I don’t want them to die either…Well, most of them, some are cocky little fucks who could probably use a little downtime. But if it’s between you and them, they’re fucked, kitty cat. Utterly fucking fucked.” He knelt down beside the tub and splashed me with a charming smile.

  “I like you too, Spyder.”

  “Finish up, and get dressed.” He shook his head as he rose from beside the tub. “We have a party to crash.”

  Twenty minutes later, I stared at my reflection and the dress I’d decided to wear. One I’d conjured with magic, which flattered my slim frame. The maxi dress was a silky, almost sheer material that draped from each shoulder in a wide V-neck that exposed most of my chest and barely covered my breasts as it dipped dramatically just above my navel. The sides were similarly exposed under my arms. The only thing that kept the fabric from shifting like a wardrobe malfunction was a slender band of black fabric that supported my breasts and kept the sides and chest pieces from slipping.

  My hair was loose, cascading down my back, as Lucian preferred it. I had minimal make-up on, preferring to look natural instead of made-up or fake. I’d never used much of it anyway. A little mascara, lip gloss, and cheek blush and I thought I looked good enough to face the world. Kendra would take hours in the bathroom for school, but I was the opposite. I missed her, the old one who used to smile from her eyes when our gazes locked across the room at some boring coven function.

  I tossed the brush onto the counter and slipped into the small heels I’d made and headed into the bedroom. The moment I entered it, I heard Spyder’s sudden intake of breath and peeked up at him curiously. He stood motionless, his gaze roaming over the exposed skin before they closed and he took a big step backwards, as if he didn’t trust himself with me.

 

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