She hissed at him, baring sharp fangs.
Octavian planted the forearm of his free arm across her chest, holding her down as he plunged the needle into the side of her neck. Her shriek was deafening. Smoke began to rise from the puncture wound. It coiled off her skin as though he’d injected her with battery acid. Her screams echoed through the room, the sound shredding through him until it was nearly unbearable to stand. Her body rattled uncontrollably as she stared at him, accusing.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her brow.
He released her. Magnus did the same with her feet and they watched, powerless to do anything but wait. She hit a fever so hot, had she been human, her brain would have been soup and her bones mush. It reached such a frightening height that he began to wonder if he’d done something wrong. Her screams became soul chilling. Her skin sizzled and steamed. The bedframe clattered as she convulsed from head to toe. For a gut churning moment, Octavian was certain she would die. That her entire body would just explode. When her animalistic snarls became sobs, he nearly broke. He begged whatever holy and unholy being was listening to please, please not let her die, to somehow transfer her pain to him so she would no longer suffer. But the torture went on for hours. His mother came down at dawn to check on him. She said nothing, but touched his shoulder. Then she left as well. But he stayed. He stayed with every sunrise and every sunset. He sat and washed her brow and told her over and over again that he was there, that he was sorry. In the windowless room, estimation of time was impossible, but he knew days had passed. Proof of it grew on his face in a thick, dark beard and in the rancid state of his clothes, none of which mattered. He would leave for nothing.
“Please eat something,” his mother begged, nudging him with the tray of stew and bread she held.
“Why hasn’t she woken up yet?” he asked instead, watching Riley’s face for even the slightest change.
Riley continued to tremble despite the mountain of blankets piled on top of her. Sweat and tears shone on her cheeks and glistened on her brow. Her hair lay in tangled and matted knots across the pillows. Her breath rattled painfully in her chest, but was no longer a low growl.
“She will. It takes time. But for now.” She set the tray down on the nightstand. “Please eat something. Starving yourself won’t bring her back faster, and for the love of Pete, take a shower. You’ll scare the girl to death with that forest you’ve got growing on your face, never mind your smell.”
He knew she was trying to make him laugh, but he didn’t have it in him. “Thanks, Mom.”
With a sigh, she placed a hand on his shoulder, leaned in and pressed a kiss to his crown. “I love you, baby.”
He touched the hand she had on his shoulder and nodded. “Love you, too.”
With a squeeze, she left him.
“Come on, Riley,” he murmured softly. God he prayed he hadn’t made her worse. “Wake up.” He touched her face, relieved and worried to find no fever on her chilled skin. Her chest was no longer rising and falling and she lay so still. Panic stole through him. He shot out of his seat. “Riley!” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her, uncaring of being gentle.
Beneath his trembling, sweaty hands, she moved. Her lips parted in a sound between a sigh and a moan. The sharp little ends of her teeth flashed in the dull light. Her lashes fluttered and rose slowly off her pale cheeks to reveal the same crimson pools where they had once been green. She blinked once, twice, focused on him with confusion and recognition.
“Octavian?” Her voice was the same, soft and melodious like bells.
“Riley.” He never felt the stone floor cushion his kneecaps when he fell to the floor at her side. His hands closed in the sheets draped over her as he dropped his face into her still chest. “You’re back. God, I’ve missed you, baby.”
“Did I go somewhere?” she paused a moment. “I’m tied to a bed.” She jerked on her restraints. “Why am I tied to a bed?”
Raising his head, he peered down into her face, into her beautiful, breathtaking, stunning face that he had missed like his next breath. “You’re safe,” he promised, fighting not to roar in joy or break into tears. “Everything is fine. How much do you remember?”
She stopped struggling. “I… I don’t…” She screwed up her face in concentration. “I remember waiting for you to come to bed.”
“What else?” he pressed, not wanting to, but knowing it was necessary.
She dampened her lips, and winced. “Ow! What…?” Her eyes widened. “Oh!”
“What?” he asked, quickly getting to his feet. “What is it?”
“I remember!” Gingerly she touched the points once more with her tongue. “I remember being attacked and… did I die?”
“A little,” he confessed. “Let’s get you out of this bed and I’ll explain everything.”
He didn’t expect an argument and she never gave one as he hurriedly unfastened her bindings and pulled back the sheets. She grimaced as she lowered her arms for the first time in weeks. She rubbed her raw wrists.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, wanting so badly to kiss the red welts left behind. “But it was for your own safety.”
The uncertainty in her eyes as she sat up tugged on his heart strings. “I don’t feel like me. I feel… strange. Like I was transplanted into someone else’s body.” she hesitated. “This is my body, isn’t it?” She glanced down at herself.
He wanted to laugh at the question, but the serious look on her face stopped him. “It’s you.” He reached for the robe his mother had left draped over the footboard and held it up for her. “Come on. You’ll feel better once you get out of this blasted room.”
She didn’t seem able or willing to argue that as she slipped her arms through the sleeves and shrugged the cotton material on. He ached to touch her, to help unhitch her hair from the collar, but he knew if he touched her, even once, he’d never be able to stop and he wasn’t sure she would welcome it until after she’d heard everything. That scared him like nothing else, her rejection. But he would somehow learn to live with it. It was, after all, his fault she was in this mess. It was his fault that she’d been hurt time and again. It was his fault her father was killed and she was turned into a bloodsucking monster. He wouldn’t blame her if she hated him.
Carefully, he led her up the steps to the storage room. She paused at the top to glance around at all the boxes, a suspicious frown on her face.
“I’ve been in this room a million times. I never noticed this.”
“It’s always kept hidden,” he said, coming up behind her and closing the hatch and concealing it once more with boxes.
“Sneaky,” she murmured, turning and starting towards the door on the other side.
Her movements were hesitant, like a newborn calf learning to walk. Every step was placed hesitantly and with great caution. Maybe it was because she hadn’t walked in so long or was it because her body felt so alien she wasn’t sure how it operated?
In the doorway, she paused and peeked out.
Octavian came up behind her. “Everyone is anxious to see you,” he told her. “We’ve all been so worried.”
She glanced at him from over her shoulder. “What happened to me, Octavian?”
He knew he should wait, but the words were leaving his tongue before he could stop himself. “You were bitten by a strigoi.”
She looked down at her hands. “Am I strigoi now?”
He nodded. “Duncan, the strigoi that attacked you, we found him in Siberia. We got his blood and…” He swallowed hard, so afraid of her reaction.
“Why did I need his blood?”
“Riley!” Octavian was saved from answering when Gideon walked out of the back of the house and caught sight of her. In three quick strides he was in front of her and scooping her up into his arms. “About time you woke up!” He gave her a hard squeeze before setting her down and searching her face. “How are you?”
“Hungry,” she murmured, looking uncertain.
“Whoa!” Gideon took a step back, hands up to ward her off. “This Caster is not donating.”
Her face broke into a wide smile that made everything inside Octavian hurt. She laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Gideon gave a nod. “Good. You do that.” He glanced at Octavian. “Where we going?”
Octavian shrugged, completely at a loss for an answer. His mind didn’t seem to want to work as properly as it should. There were blank spots all over the place. All he could think was that his Riley was back and she was okay, while another side insisted she was going to hate him for what he’d done.
“Well, Mom’ll want to see her,” Gideon supplied. “And the others. Come on.”
He slipped an arm around Riley as though it were the most natural thing in the world to do. It didn’t seem to even bother him that she had fangs and glowing red eyes. But then, Gideon had never been fazed by much.
They began walking away, leaving Octavian to follow a few paces back, feeling useless and out of place. By the time they reached the parlor, Gideon had managed to vomit everything Octavian had hesitated to. It was both an annoyance and a relief.
“Riley!” His mother dropped the book she’d been reading onto the sofa and bolted across the room to yank Riley into her arms. “Darling, we’ve been so worried!” She drew back, smoothing Riley’s hair off her face and peering determinedly into her eyes. “How are you? Does it hurt anywhere? Are you hungry?”
“Mom, brakes,” Gideon teased. “You’re going to give her word lash.”
His mother giggled. “I’m sorry. I’m just so glad to see you’re all right.”
“Where are Dad and the other two?” Gideon asked, poking his head inside the room and looking about as though expecting Magnus to be hiding in some dark corner. It wasn’t a far stretch, but unlikely all the same.
“Your father’s downstairs with Magnus doing inventory. I haven’t seen Reggie,” she answered before turning her attention on Riley once more. “Why don’t we start with a nice hot shower? You’ll feel much better once we can get some of the sweat off.”
Riley nodded. “That does sound nice.”
Smiling, his mother hooked her arm through Riley’s and guided her back towards the stairway without glancing back at the other two. But Riley did. She turned her head and met Octavian’s gaze for a moment before she was propelled out of sight.
Gideon turned to him. “What are you doing?” he asked, taking Octavian off guard.
“What?”
He jerked a blond head in the direction their Mom and Riley had taken. “Why aren’t you following?”
Octavian frowned. “She’s taking a shower.”
A pale brow arched. “From what Magnus has told me, I don’t think there’s anything you haven’t seen.”
“Magnus has a big mouth,” Octavian muttered. “Besides, what if she doesn’t want me there?”
Gideon frowned. “I don’t understand the question.”
Exasperated, Octavian rolled his eyes. “It’s my fault she’s here. I couldn’t protect her. What if she hates me?”
For several long heartbeats, Gideon just stared at him as though Octavian had just asked him an extremely difficult question.
“What?” he demanded when Gideon continued to gawk at him.
“I’m trying to figure out if I should punch you in the head, or just smack you.”
Octavian shoved him.
Gideon rocked back on his heels but remained upright. “I’m serious. That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. I’m trying to be the responsible brother here and knock some damn sense back into your thick skull.” He waved an arm in the direction the women had gone. “That girl is crazy about you. Heaven knows why, but she is. I don’t think there’s a damn thing in the world you could do to make her not love you, and right now she’s scared and confused and if you pull away from her and hurt her, I will break your damn legs. So get your ass in gear and get over there.” He gave Octavian a hard push that made him stumble back two steps.
He glowered at his younger brother. “When did you get so bossy?”
Gideon grinned. “It’s a gift. Now get lost. I have things I need to do.”
“Like what?”
Gideon shrugged as he turned on his heels and strolled away. “I’ll think of something.” With a wave, he disappeared from sight.
Octavian remained frozen in place a moment longer before giving in to his heart and feet and finding his way to his mate.
His mother was alone in the room when he entered. She was rummaging through the dressers, muttering to herself as the soft rush of water spilled through the space from the slightly open door leading into the bathroom.
“Octavian.” She rounded on him before he could make his presence known. “Where is everything?”
Unsure of how to answer, nor did she seem to want one, he said nothing as she went back to opening and shutting the drawers until she found what she was searching for.
With a triumphant ah-ha! She held up a handful of white fabric. Carefully, she shook it out, folded it and set it on the bed. She walked over to the door.
“Riley? Everything all right?”
A moment passed before a response returned. “Yes, almost done.”
His mother turned to him, gave him a once over. “You should consider taking a shower when she’s finished.”
Octavian moved and sat on the corner of the bed. “I’m just glad she’s okay. I’ve missed her so much.”
She went to him and drew his head to her chest. She stroked his hair the way she would when he was a child. “I know.”
The shower was shut off, drawing them apart. Both turned towards the door simultaneously, waiting for Riley to emerge. Instead, there was a moment of absolute silence, followed abruptly by a piercing shriek and the distinct tinkle of shattering glass. Octavian was up and running even before the screams stopped. He burst through the door, prepared to take down whatever threat lay on the other side. What he wasn’t expecting to find was Riley huddled on the floor by the tub, sobbing into her hands. There were broken glass shards all around her from where the mirror had hung in the panel above the sink.
“Riley!” He snatched the towel off the hook and ran to her. His boots crunched on glass as he got to her. In a single fluid scoop, he bundled her up in the towel and then in his arms. “What happened?”
“I’m a monster!” Riley wailed.
That was all it took for Octavian to put the pieces together. His heart hurt in his chest. Carefully he carried her into the bedroom and sat on the bed with her cradled in his lap.
“Riley, look at me.”
She shook her head, burrowing her face deeper into his shoulder. “I’m hideous.”
“You’re not,” he murmured, lightly caressing the warm, soft skin on her arm.
“I have red eyes and fangs like some rabid chipmunk!”
It wasn’t funny, really, but he had to bite his lip to stifle the picture her remark conjured. He looked to his mother for assistance, but she merely shrugged helplessly.
“Baby, you know what a strigoi looks like,” he reminded her, picking his words carefully.
“Yes, but it’s different when it’s staring back at you through the mirror. How am I ever supposed to go out again?”
“You will learn to conceal your eyes and fangs,” his mother said comfortingly. “Strigoi have been living among people for eons. With modern technology, we can get you contacts for your eyes and you’ll just have to be careful when you speak or smile. It’s not so bad.”
Riley sniffled. She drew back just enough to push back her damp hair and peer at them. “Does this mean I’ll have to kill people?”
“No!” He and his mother said at once.
“No,” his mother repeated more gently. “We will help you control it.”
What little color the shower had conjured into her cheeks washed away. “But I’ll have to drink from people?” The disgust on her face reflected in the curl of her lips.<
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His mother shrugged. “We’ve been feeding you with blood bags, but the broken down components aren’t enough to sustain you for as long as it would if you drank from a living source.”
“Oh God…” she moaned, her complexion a disturbing shade of green.
“We can start with animals,” Octavian told her quickly, picking up on a thread of thought. “Once you’re comfortable and got the hang of it…”
“Can’t I just stick to animals?” she asked, hope glistening in her eyes.
“Contrary to popular fiction,” his mother said quietly, “vampires can’t live on animals alone. In a bind, yes, it will help, but in the long run, you need human blood.”
Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) Page 44