Surviving Today

by Mande Chambers

  Patrick held his side, still attempting to catch his breath. “Ouch. That was uncalled for. And, for someone who’s clearly distracted, that wasn’t bad.”

  She pushed off him, rubbing her own ribcage. She was awfully sore herself. He had gotten her with a nicely aimed punch or five himself while she’d been distracted by the disastrous events of her encounter the previous night with D.

  Now that her adrenaline was calming down, her arms hurt something fierce. She unconsciously rubbed at the burning cuts through her long sleeved tee as Patrick pulled himself up off the mat.

  She didn’t notice that a few of the cuts had reopened, but he apparently did. He froze, sniffing the air like a blood hound after the scent of a wounded animal.

  Stupid demonic sense of smell.

  “Shanna, why are you bleeding?” He stalked over to her. He grabbed her right arm, starting to pull up her sleeve.

  His eyes went wide as he noticed a few of the smaller, shallower cuts above the tattoo on her wrist. “What the hell is this?!”

  Shanna attempted to pull her arm out of his grasp, but he tightened his hold. While he was distracted with her arm, she brought her knee up, catching him in the stomach.

  He swore rather violently, in multiple languages, his face turning red as he let her go. She pulled down her sleeve, walking over to the bench along the far wall of the basement gym. She slipped effortlessly into her sneakers without untying them. She grabbed her bag and stalked past where he was lying on the mat, attempting to catch his breath again.

  He reached out, grabbed her ankle, and yanked it out from under her.

  She let out a very colorful curse as she landed hard on her back, glaring up at the ceiling while she tried to catch the breath that had been knocked out of her.

  Patrick pinned her to the mat, breathing heavily. She struggled, her breath coming out in hiccupped gasps. She bucked against him, but he rode her out like a seasoned bull rider.

  When she gave up fighting him, he climbed off her, pulling her to her feet. He immediately pushed her back against the nearest wall, successfully caging her in.

  Seriously? You have got to be kidding me.

  She had been in this same position with another stubborn, controlling male in her life more than once. Nothing good ever came from this position.

  Shanna glared up at him, defiantly holding the edges of her sleeves in her closed palms, which were fisted at her sides.

  Patrick leaned down, ignoring the sweat that was dripping off both of them. He pushed the matted hair off her face. “Shanna, I have given you a lot of leeway over the last seven hundred odd years. Please don’t test me. I have fought that part of myself for centuries, trying to leave you be. I will sink to that level if I have to, I promise you that.”

  Her eyes flashed yellow and she growled at him.

  Oh, yeah. This wasn’t going to end well.

  His eyes flashed black. She gulped, wishing suddenly that she was a chameleon that could blend effortlessly into the wall and hide from the murderous look on his face.

  He cupped her cheek, his eyes never leaving hers, as he muttered, “I guess we are doing this the hard way. Again. Apparently, your inner demon wants to play. Let’s oblige her, shall we?”

  Shanna’s mind went completely blank. She was powerless to stop it. As much as she tried fight it, he had peaked the beast’s curiosity and it was going to find out just how he planned on playing this game, whether she agreed to it or not.

  He kissed her and she was lost, frozen in complete and utter confusion.

  He kissed her in hopes of distracting her enough to get a better look at her arms. Patrick doubted it would work with the Hellhound within her in full play mode, but he had to try. He wasn’t up to trying to dominate a creature he had let roam free for the better part of a millennia.

  Oh, who was he kidding?

  Yes, he was the beast’s one and only master, he held any and all control over it. That wasn’t why he kissed her. He had wanted to kiss her for as long as he could remember. This was the perfect excuse to give into his more basic side.

  She tried to bite his lower lip. It wasn’t in pleasure or in play, but for the sole purpose of drawing blood. Her demon wanted to play with him. He had no issues with that, but it would be on his terms.

  He avoided her sharp teeth like a pro, sticking his tongue in her mouth, lightly exploring just inside her bottom lip. Her hands relaxed at her sides as his tongue explored more of her mouth and her tongue parried with his.

  He smiled as she let a sigh escape.

  She was pretty well out of it because she wasn’t stopping his now wanted invasion. She didn’t move to stop him when he pinned her arms over her head.

  Continuing his gentle assault on her mouth and senses, he reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, letting go briefly to free her of it. He tossed it to the hardwood floor at their feet.

  He pulled away from her swollen mouth long enough to glance at her forearms, noting the raw open cuts that littered them. He held back his rising anger, deciding to take another approach. With her demon so close to the surface, he had a feeling she was cutting herself to satisfy the creatures rising bloodlust. It was her way of maintaining control of it while slowly losing her mind.

  Patrick nipped at her bottom lip. “Self-mutilation isn’t the way to handle this. If you were having trouble controlling her, you should have come to me. It’s my job to submit her and allow you to remain in human form.”

  Shanna’s glowing yellow eyes met his fathomless black ones. “Maybe I don’t want you helping me out of some misguided responsibility you feel to me. Ever think of that?”

  “Shanna, you have known me long enough to know that I don’t do anything out of a misguided sense of responsibility. I can try and hide my true colors all I want, but we both know that I’m a demon. A demon who is used to getting what he wants at any cost.” He sighed.

  “You do something to me that makes be forget that part of myself. I blame it on that incident in 1478 at the beginning of the Spanish Inquisition. You had been free for a few hundred years, but that was the ultimate turning point.”

  She looked him dead in the eyes. “Let your demonic side come out and play this once. Tame her in another way.”

  Oh, wow.

  She had not just said that.

  He knew better than to pay the offer any heed. They’d been playing this game for close to a thousand years.

  He pulled back, searching her face. Holy crap. She was dead serious. She meant it.

  He wasn’t going to be able to pass this up. He had kept his own demon at bay for far too long. He demanded a turn.

  Challenge accepted.

  Shanna pulled her shirt on sometime later. Why the hell had she been able to do way more than kiss Patrick, while she had lost her freaking mind over a kiss with D not even twenty-four hours ago?

  Oh, this was bad. Very, very bad.

  Okay, fine. So the demon was placated and satisfied for the foreseeable future. She couldn’t exactly use that as an excuse for having sex on a gym bench with Patrick,

  “I really need to stop doing this,” she mumbled.

  “What? Sleep with me? You say that every life cycle, after you’ve had wild, demonic sex with me.”

  Son of a…

  How did she always find herself in these situations? It was like she was incapable of learning from her own mistakes. As guilty as she felt, she couldn’t help but feel really good too. There were no secrets between her and Patrick. So there were no flashbacks or anxiety.

  That still so doesn’t make this okay.

  “No, sleep with someone who isn’t my boyfriend,” she grumbled.

  Patrick arched an eyebrow, tying his shoes. “This has happened before? And here I thought I was all special and stuff.”

  Shanna snorted, dropping down onto the bench they’d just utilized. “You’re special all right. Your ego is the one telling you that you’re the other kind of special, not me. An
d, while I swore I wouldn’t repeat that little slip up we had in Montana last year…” She covered her face with her hands. “Okay, fine. I had a one night stand with D the summer before last. Karmichael and I were sort of still together.”

  He sat up, narrowing his eyes. “Wait. That was right after…seriously?”

  Shanna sighed. “I used you to forget about—”

  “That magical kiss with D, yeah I know. And to think, you didn’t even know I was Phoenix back then.”

  She ran a hand through her tangled hair, pulling it into a haphazard ponytail. “Say it. Go on. I dare you. Do it, Phoenix, and I swear to the gods we don’t believe in that I will…” She let the threat hang in the air.

  He smiled, holding his hands up in peace. “My lips are sealed. I am curious, though, as to what exactly you will do to me, Riya.”

  Shanna winced at the use of her real name. The one she had been born with over a hundred lifetimes ago.

  “Are you actually embarrassed?”

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed a demon blush at the subject of sex.”

  “Well, to my defense, I am half demon. My other half is human like.”

  “You were pure demon not even fifteen minutes ago…”

  “Bite me.”

  “Where?”

  “How about in your dreams,” she countered, dragging herself up off the bench.

  “It’s a little late for that one.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “Ouch. There you go again deflating my sensitive ego. I’m serious here. Where?”

  Shanna backed up from him as he stalked her like a lion looking for its next meal. “It’s just an expression.”

  He advanced on her, a grin nearly splitting his face in half. “One you know better than to say to me.”

  He chased her, both of them laughing, all the way to the door of the women’s locker room. “I will get you, and your little dog too!” he called as he disappeared into the men’s locker room.

  CHAPTER 35

  August 2015

  Montana

  Chaos.

  That was what erupted after the bombshell that Megan Nox was actually Annelise Yves dropped.

  Unfortunately, though, that wasn’t the only personal issue on the table. There were a lot of unresolved issues among this ragtag group. They could seriously keep a therapist in business for decades.

  Oh, shit.

  Scott backed slowly away from his best friend, holding his hands out in front of him in surrender. Smart move. Piss off the Firestarter.

  Wait a minute.

  Previously mentioned Firestarter hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about the fact the he wasn’t a card carrying member of the human race anymore.

  Though, at this particular moment, neither of them being completely human wasn’t exactly their biggest issue. It wasn’t even the biggest lie of omission between them.

  Derrick stalked towards him, his gray eyes narrowed, murder very clearly written in them.

  Scott gulped, swearing as he tripped over a rock in his hasty backwards retreat. The red glow surrounding his friend could not be a good thing.

  “Now, Rick,” he said in a calming tone, his voice squeaking like he had hit puberty a second time.

  Derrick’s eyes narrowed into near slits. “Do not ‘Rick’ me in that tone of voice, Scott. I’m not some kid throwing a temper tantrum over something trivial like a toy being taken away. You looked me right in the eye and lied straight to my face without batting an eyelash. Not only about the fact that you aren’t human—I really don’t have leg to stand on in that department—but about the fact that you are married to my girlfriend!”

  Yeah…that was the biggest issue between them.

  “That may be overstating things for dramatic effect,” Scott muttered. “And, I may have some serious upgrades, but I’m still human,” he protested louder, still avoiding the real issue.

  Derrick stopped advancing on him. Rolling his eyes towards the sky, he threw his hands in the air. “I shoot fire out of my hands, Scott. I can control fire with my mind. Hell, I can create fire from my body without needing a flame if the situation arose. Your mutated DNA is the least of our problems. How could you not tell me?”

  Well, crap.

  There was no avoiding that topic anymore.

  With a sigh, Scott stopped backing away from Derrick. He put his hands down, stuffing them into the pockets of his cargo pants. “Technically, Rick, she stopped being my wife the day she made the conscious decision to leave me, change her name, and put enough distance between us to span a few oceans.”

  “That’s awesome man. Really. What I meant was, why didn’t you tell me when you figured it out last night in my kitchen, during your little conversation with Evans?”

  Derrick swiped a hand over his blonde hair, finishing the gesture by rubbing the back of his neck. “You decided to hide behind some cover story pulled out of his ass on the fly instead of growing a pair and telling me what was up.”

  Scott hung his head, clasping his hands at the nape of his neck. “Look, in my defense, I was in shock. I know that doesn’t excuse it, or make it right, but it’s the truth.” He blew out a breath. “It wasn’t my secret to tell or my lie to expose. Everything has happened so fast, spiraling out of control faster than the vortex of a tornado, that I haven’t had the time to process what is really going on behind the scenes. You need to understand that Megan and my relationship has always been—”

  He paused, searching for the right word. “Complicated. That really is the only word to use that accurately describes it. You also need to realize that the other night in Washington was a fluke. Neither of us had known the other would be there.”

  His ocean colored eyes met Derrick’s, a sadness in them. “That was the first time in three years I had seen her. And it wasn’t by either of our choices. I did something horrible, unforgiveable, to her knowing full well it would keep both of us out of each other’s lives for good. If we had our way, we would never have seen one another again for the rest of our natural, or unnatural, lives.” He kicked at the dirt and looked off into the distance. “Our meeting was carefully orchestrated by outside forces having absolutely nothing to do with nature. They are moving us around their board like perfectly placed chess pieces.”

  He looked at Derrick again. “I guess I was just trying to keep you out of this whole Frankenstein meets The Vampire Diaries mess they call our lives.” He shot a dirty look at his friend. “Oh, yeah. Please, let’s not forget to tell the court of public opinion that this was all before I found out that you had one of the rarest, most dangerous gifts. And you were involved in this up to your deceitful superhuman neck.”

  “So…what was this morning about?”

  At Scott’s blank look, he crossed his arms over his chest and arched an eyebrow of his own. “What was she really doing in your bed?”

  Oh, that. Well, you see…

  Derrick raised his other eyebrow. “Uh-uh. That hedging bullshit isn’t going to fly this time.”

  “You know, maybe you should talk to her about this. She’s the one that’s been lying to you for years. I’ve been at this for only a couple of days…”

  “I plan to.”

  Scott let out a relieved breath. “Good.”

  “Now answer the damn question.”

  Ohhh, so close.

  What exactly was he supposed to say? No matter which way he swung this, neither one of them was going to look innocent in this. Especially after what was just revealed.

  “She teleported into my bed in her sleep,” he mumbled, deciding it was better just to rip the Band-Aid off.

  “Come again? Say what?”

  “She teleported into my bed,” he said a bit louder, wincing.

  “How many damn abilities does that girl have?” Derrick grumbled. He narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You mumbled ‘in her sleep’, right?”

  Scott nodded, studying his boots
.

  “As in, she really did fall asleep in bed with me, started to dream, and then, poof, she was half-naked in bed with you?”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much how it went down.” Scott’s eyes widened as a wickedly bright fireball appeared in Derrick’s hand. “Rick, what do you plan to do with that dangerous ball of volcanic heat in your hand there, buddy?”

  “She was dreaming about you,” Derrick replied simply.

  “Once again, that is something you should take up with her—or take out on her. You know, whatever floats your boat here.”

  Apparently that was the wrong answer.

  Scott swore as Derrick threw the flame.

  Megan and Corbin watched as a very bright fireball appeared in Derrick’s hand. Scott said something and they both flinched as Derrick threw the fireball at him.

  “You’re not going to help him out, are you?” Corbin asked, his eyes straying to the man in black standing off to the right of them.

  It’s not fair. He shouldn’t still look sexy as sin after all this time.

  Megan shrugged, watching as Scott threw up a hand. A blast of energy encased the red ball of flame coming at his head, but it wasn’t fast enough.

  Scott dove to the side as the ball of combined matter sailed by him.

  “He’s a big boy. He can handle himself.”

  Corbin dragged his eyes away from the sexiness that was Charlie Yves. Bad, Corbin. Down boy. That’s a whole lot of trouble you don’t need. “Chicken.”

  “Balk, balk. Let them duke it out. I personally don’t want to deal with either of them right now.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “Speaking of the pot calling the kettle black, I don’t exactly see you racing over to make things right with my brother. While I’m shooting daggers at my ex, you’re looking at yours like a starving dog eyeing a steak.”

  “That doesn’t mean he is off the hook, Megs.”

  “Of course it doesn’t.”

  He looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Aren’t you the one who woke up in Scott’s bed this morning, after teleporting there in one of his old tees? All because you were dreaming about him?”