Dueling Moons: A Pat Wyatt Novel (The Pat Wyatt Series Book 2)

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Dueling Moons: A Pat Wyatt Novel (The Pat Wyatt Series Book 2) Page 24

by Laura Del


  “You saved my life,” he breathed.

  I stood there blinking up at him. “Don’t mention it.”

  “But—”

  “No, seriously,” I cut him off, “don’t ever mention it. Ever.”

  “Ew,” Angel said, as she looked over at Herb’s rapidly decaying corpse. “So that’s what happens when you stake a bloodsucker, huh?” She grimaced. “Gross.”

  I turned to see Mike staring at me, and with just one look, I knew he wanted to talk. “Do you guys mind taking that somewhere to bury it?” I asked Samuel and Angel. Angel nodded, but Samuel looked skeptical.

  “Sure thing,” Angel replied, letting the sheet drop to the floor. She was not shy, that was for sure. “Come on, vampire,” she sneered, grabbing him by the arm. “Let’s go bury us a body, and on the way we can discuss you payin’ for a new front door to my diner.”

  Samuel looked at me over his shoulder as Angel began to drag him out. “Are you sure about this, Patricia?” he asked, and when I nodded, he turned, picked up the corpse, and left with Angel on his heels.

  “I don’t see that going too well,” I said, turning around to see Mike standing there as naked as the day he was born. Normally, I would have been all over him, but something inside warned me to stay away.

  He looked down at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. “Are you…ya know…okay?” I shrugged when he looked up, and he sighed. “Pat, I didn’t mean…that is, I didn’t want to…” his voice trailed away, and I knew he was trying to apologize for what he had done.

  “I’m not going to tell you that it’s okay, because it’s not, Mike. You did what you were made to do, and I just…I don’t know.”

  “Are you scared of me?” he asked, moving closer, and I automatically moved back, which seemed to answer his question. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  I closed my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, and when I opened them, Mike was leaning against the counter with tears in his eyes. “I’m not going to lie and tell you that I’m not afraid of you, but I’m more confused than afraid. I just think I need time to figure this out.”

  He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “Figure what out?”

  “About whether or not me turning into what you are will come between us, because from where I stand, at this point, it eventually will.”

  “I would never—”

  “You say that now,” I interrupted his protest, “but one of these days it’s going to come down to me being what you are or me being in mortal danger for the rest of my life, and quite frankly, Mike, it scares me to death.”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be like that, bébé. I could never force you to do anythin’ you didn’t wanna do, and I would never hurt…” his voice trailed away, and I knew why. He had hurt me, so much so that it almost cost me my life and forced me to take a potion that could have killed me.

  “I know you didn’t hurt me intentionally.” I tried to soothe him, but it was kind of awkward with us on opposite sides of the room. Besides, when I said that, he looked away from me for a second. I felt like he was hiding something and I didn’t want to push it, so I just let it go. “But, Mike,” I continued as though I hadn’t seen any change in him, “can you promise that you’ll never do it again?”

  He sighed, looking down at his feet again. “No, I can’t promise that.”

  “And can you promise that you won’t pressure me into becoming what you are?” He looked up, opened his mouth, and then closed it. “That’s what I thought,” I said with a nod. “So I think we should take a break. You know, just until I can get my head together.”

  “Where will ya go?” he asked, his voice hitching a little. I knew he was upset, but it was better that we did this now than wait and have it all blow up in our faces later.

  “My pops’ house,” I answered, realizing that his wedding was perfect timing. “He’s getting married to Cindy and I’m going to be the matron of honor, so it’ll be perfect. He doesn’t like you anyway, so…” I waved the sentence on.

  Mike nodded. “That’s a good plan. It sucks ass, but it’s a good plan.”

  “I…know…” Suddenly I began to get dizzy, and pain shot through my chest. I lost my balance, but Mike was there to catch me.

  “Patricia,” he said, panicked. “What’s wrong?”

  “My…chest,” I breathed, grabbing where the wounds once were. But when I pulled my hand away, it was covered in blood. “Mike.”

  “I see it,” he said, holding my wrist for a minute. “What the fuck? That stuff was supposed to heal you.”

  “Well…I guess…it didn’t.” As soon as I said that Samuel and Angel walked in.

  Angel was wearing his black leather jacket, and Samuel looked like he wanted to kill her, but that all faded when he saw me. “What is the matter?” he asked, his eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight of the blood.

  “Shit, fleshy girl,” Angel hissed. “What the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, as Mike helped me to sit in a booth that wasn’t too badly busted up.

  Samuel reached into his pocket, pulling out a cell phone, which shocked the ever-loving shit out of me.

  “He’s gotta cell phone?” Mike asked, confused.

  “He has a cell,” Angel confirmed, folding her arms.

  “You have a cell phone?” I asked with a wince, as pain shot through my upper stomach.

  “Yes,” he answered as he dialed a number. “I am not completely medieval.”

  “No,” I muttered. “Only partly.”

  “I heard that.”

  I winced again. “You were meant to.”

  “Hello,” he said into the phone, ignoring me, as he began to speak French.

  “He’s talkin’ to Chloe,” Mike explained, wrapping my wounds with gauze.

  “Thanks for that.” I told him with a semi-smile, and then he bumped his hand into my raw flesh, and I couldn’t help but squeak out an, “Ow!”

  Samuel yelled something, which I was pretty sure was a curse word, and then hung up.

  “What was that about, bloodsucker?” Angel asked as she leaned against the counter. She looked extremely comfortable in his jacket, and I wondering what she did in order to get him to give it to her.

  “Chloe explained something to me,” Samuel answered, placing his phone back in his pocket. “The good news is she said that your internal injuries are healed. The bad news is that because the wounds on your stomach and chest were made by a werewolf, they are not so easily healed.”

  “But they were fine until a couple of minutes ago,” Mike protested, and I could see the color drain from his face. I knew that he was blaming himself, and I had to admit it was kind of his fault, even though he was in his wolf form when he attacked me.

  “I am well aware of that,” Samuel snapped. “However, according to Chloe, the potion wears off when in contact with any damage done by a werewolf. For those kinds of injuries, you have to make a special salve. She was only aware of the other wounds and the miscarriage, because I explained that those were inevitable. What I did not expect was an overzealous wolf shredding her to ribbons.”

  “All right, Samuel,” I scolded. “That’s enough.”

  “I have not started anything. I have just stated facts.”

  “Yes, well, it was the way you said it. If you’re not going to be helpful then go sit at the counter.”

  “I—”

  “Go,” I interrupted, pointing at one of the stools. If he could have stomped his foot without looking like a child, he would have. Instead, he just narrowed his eyes, and sat down.

  After Mike wrapped me up like a mummy, he gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me that he would see me later. Then Angel gave Samuel back his jacket, and both of them went out to run in the moonlight. Samuel and I were left in the diner alone, and for a
minute, I figured our temporary truce was over. That is, until he walked over to me, holding out his hand.

  “What’s that for?” I asked, confused.

  He shrugged. “To help you to stand, of course. Or would you rather I leave you here until morning when the wolves come back?”

  I took his hand and instead of helping me to stand like he said, he scooped me up in his arms, grabbed my coat and bag from the counter, and ran out of the diner before I could protest. He ran so fast that I was sure we were a blur to any passersby. And when we came up to my apartment building, he stopped so abruptly that I felt my stomach lurch. I had to take a couple of deep breaths so I wouldn’t throw up as he placed me down on the ground. Then he handed me my bag, and I fished out my keys.

  “You promised that you’d never do that again.”

  He shrugged. “I lied.”

  I shook my head, as I opened the front door to the building, and I turned around to look at him.

  Samuel stood there with a smirk on his face, following me inside. But when I opened the door to the apartment, he grimaced. “What?”

  “I cannot go inside without an invitation,” he explained.

  “What? Then how in the hell did you get that box in here before.”

  “I picked the lock and slid it in with my foot, but I never crossed the threshold.”

  I laughed a little, waving him inside. “Come on.”

  He walked in and placed my coat on my desk, looking at it like he’d done something wonderful.

  “I know you commanded me never to mention it again,” he said randomly, “but I owe you a debt for saving my life.”

  “You mean your afterlife, don’t you?” I tried to joke about it, but he didn’t even crack a smile. Wow. Tough crowd.

  “Listen,” I began again, “you don’t owe me anything. No, scratch that, you owe me a lot. But I don’t want you to think that you can just show up whenever you want and give me the excuse that you owe me one. So, here’s the deal: you get me a first-class ticket on the next flight to Danville, Pennsylvania, help me pack, and promise that you will unfreeze Mike’s assets, and we will call it semi-even. Okay?”

  “Deal,” he said, holding out his hand.

  “One more thing,” I said before I shook it, remembering about my best friend. “Make Tina forget that Herb proposed to her, and make up some kind of excuse for him to have left.”

  He dropped his hand for a moment, shaking his head. “I cannot believe you.”

  “Why?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “You want only two things for yourself, one of which I would not even consider a favor, and the rest is for the two people you love most in this world. You are truly amazing, Patricia Anne Wyatt, and it only makes me want you more.”

  Great. “Do we have a deal or not?”

  “Deal,” he said, holding his hand out again. We shook on it and began to get to work on getting my things together.

  About ten minutes of silence later, we were halfway through packing most of my warm winter clothes when he turned to me. “I have to ask you something.”

  “Yes?” I said as I placed my wool socks in my overnight bag.

  “What do you think about me marrying your sister?”

  I shrugged. “Jessica is a grown woman, Samuel. If she wants to marry you, I can’t stop her. Why? What does it matter what I think? You’re no longer my husband or my problem.”

  He nodded slightly, handing me a pair of leggings from my underwear drawer. “I know this, but I do not want you to think that the only reason I am marrying her is because I am baiting you or that I do not like her.”

  “But you said—”

  “I know what I said,” he interrupted with a sigh, “but I only said it to annoy you, which did not work out so well in the end.”

  “Why are you telling me all of this, Samuel?”

  “Partly because I owe you my life and partly because I do not wish for you to worry. It is strange for me to feel the way I do about you, and I want to take this time to tell you that you opened something in me that was closed for the longest time. It is the reason why I can let Jessica in now, and the reason why I wish to marry her. I am lonely, as you have pointed out before, and do not wish to be lonely anymore.”

  I began to clap slowly and sarcastically. “Bravo! Best. Performance. Ever. You should really think about a career in acting, my friend.”

  “Too much?”

  “It was so over the top that I almost believed you. Almost.” I paused for a moment, thinking about what he said. “Samuel?”

  “Yes, Patricia?” he answered as he folded one of my sweaters. He was really good at it.

  “If you do marry her, please turn her beforehand. There’s nothing scarier than Mariah on the war path. After all, we don’t want another dungeon scene now, do we?”

  His face turned to stone, and I could see something pass behind those cold, blue eyes. Worry? Fright? Triumph? I couldn’t quite tell. “It shall be done.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome.”

  We finished packing about twenty minutes later, only because Samuel insisted on checking the bags himself which took forever, and finally, he helped me put the two of them by the door. Then he turned and smirked. “You know, if you wish for me to go with you—”

  “Fuck no,” I almost shouted.

  He held up his hands. “Very well. It was just a suggestion.”

  “It wasn’t a very good one,” I pointed out.

  “Then I guess we are done.”

  “We are,” I agreed.

  “Very well,” he breathed. “But be warned that I will be checking in on you, whether you want me to or not.” With that, he left.

  I stood there for a moment, having a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, because I knew that our truce was finally over.

  chapter

  TWENTY-THREE

  I slept the rest of the night on the couch.

  After Samuel left, I took a very painful shower, wincing every time the hot water hit the wounds on my chest and upper stomach. They were a lot worse than I had originally thought, and when I looked at them in the bright light of the bathroom, they looked angry and swollen. That may sound childish, but it doesn’t make it any less true. Finally, I threw away my wrecked t-shirt and folded up the sweats so that they could be washed and brought back to Angel whenever Mike got around to it.

  Poor Mike. I didn’t know what I was going to do when he came home and asked me if I was really going to go through with leaving him. But I had to do it no matter what, and it would be easier if I attended my father’s wedding alone. No one needed a fistfight along with all the stress that came with the matrimonial jitters.

  Anyway, around four in the morning, I bandaged my wounds again, counted the bruises on my face and body—fifty-three in all—, and fell asleep on the couch, wearing nothing but my Marines t-shirt. The best part was that I had nightmares about werewolves and vampires all day long. All of them dying on a huge battlefield, destroying each other, until there was no one left…except me.

  I climbed over the dead, their hands grabbing me as I crawled. They pulled me down, and when I tried to stand, the dead would pull me down again, using their decaying fingers. I finally fell on a pile of corpses and a werewolf rolled on top of me, grabbing my shoulders, his dead eyes looking right through me.

  I opened my mouth to scream, but before I could, my eyes shot open to see Mike gently shaking me awake.

  I bolted upright, pushing his hands off me in the process. “Jesus, Mike. You scared the shit out of me.”

  “It looked like you were havin’ a bad dream. You okay?” he asked, and I noticed that he had changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater. He must have been home for a while, because his hair was still wet from the shower.

  I nodded, seeing something in his h
and. “What’s that?” I pointed to the envelope.

  He gave it to me with a shrug. “It was under the door just now. It has your name on it.”

  I opened the unsealed envelope and saw that it was a first-class ticket to Danville. “The son of a bitch did it.” I checked the time on the ticket. It was for seven o’clock at night. Then I checked my watch, making sure there was time. Thankfully, it was only a little past two so I relaxed, knowing I had a few hours to get there.

  I sighed, laying my head on the back of the couch. “Did you sleep?” I asked Mike, and he nodded. “Good. I need you to call Angel for a favor. She needs to take us to the airport in a couple hours.” I began to get up, but Mike held onto my wrist. “What is it?”

  “You need to go see Maryanne first.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he interrupted me. “No if, ands, or buts, Pat. You need to get checked out before you go to your dad’s, okay?”

  “Fine,” I breathed. “Let go of my hand, and I’ll get dressed.” He did, and I went over to my bags, getting some clothes and toothbrush. Samuel and I had packed everything that I owned, which wasn’t that much to begin with, so all I really had to do was grab and go.

  When I was dressed and my hair and teeth were brushed, I walked out into the living room to see that Mike was sitting on the couch.

  I put my Marines shirt and my toothbrush back in my bag, turning toward him. “So, how are we getting to Maryanne?” I asked, and he frowned. “What?”

  He shook his head. “Nothin’…I mean…nothin’.” He stood up, walking out without a word. Once outside, I saw that a cab was already waiting, so we got in, and before I knew it, we were halfway to the hospital.

  I tried to talk to Mike on the way there but I didn’t really know what to say, therefore I just kept my mouth shut.

  When we finally pulled up to the hospital, Mike told me that he had some errands to do, so he’d send someone to pick me up. Then he explained that I had to go to the third floor. I nodded and did as he instructed. Once I was in the building, I made my way to the elevator, pressing three. Maryanne met me, and whisked me away to an examination room.

 

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