[Kassandra Lyall Preternatural Investigator 03] - Bloody Claws

by Winter Pennington

  I glanced up at her and the expression she wore. "You really did enjoy it."

  "Vampires make lousy lovers with each other," Lenorre said. "Watching you with Eris was somewhat…moving."

  And because I remembered Lenorre kissing Eris, her hand sliding down Eris's body, I shuddered and said, "I have to disagree. There was nothing lousy about that."

  "You are not jealous?"

  "I don't know," I said, "It seems silly to be jealous when I was obviously all hot and bothered. Whether that was Eris's power at work or no, it's still truth. If you did something behind my back with her, oh yes. I'd be furious." I paused and finally asked, "This doesn't make us non-monogamous, does it? I was serious when I told you I'm monogamous, Lenorre."

  "My heart is yours and yours alone, Kassandra, always."

  I was quiet. She had answered my question and I was sure she was trying to be comforting, but she hadn't exactly said, "Yes, we're still monogamous."

  Lenorre put a finger under my chin and turned me to look at her.

  "You are uneasy." Her silvery eyes searched my face.

  "I'm worried."

  "You do not have to fear losing me, Kassandra."

  "I don't want to have to fear sharing you either, Lenorre. I don't do that very well."

  "And you think I do? The fact that I joined should tell you otherwise."

  I raised my brows at her, letting her know I wasn't grasping what she meant.

  "Ask me why I joined," she said.

  "Why did you join?"

  "If it was going to happen, I figured it'd bloody well happen with me rather than without me. So I say again," she whispered, pressing her lips against my temple, "you do not have to fear losing me, ever."

  "Do you swear it?" I asked.

  She cupped my face in her hands and I tried to blink away the tear that threatened to spill down my cheek. "Yes, Kassandra, I swear it. A thousand times, a million times, if I must."

  Lenorre kissed me gently before drawing back an inch. "You have been cheated on?"

  Slowly, reluctantly, I nodded.

  Lenorre wrapped her arms around me and said, "What a fool was she."

  Unfortunately, fool or no, it didn't erase the reminder of that pain. I was older and wiser. I understood things better than I had in the past. It'd taken time, but I had finally realized that my ex's infidelity had less to do with me and more to do with her. Most people simply are what they are and by being what they are, they just don't fit, no matter how hard they try.

  I hadn't realized until later how I had expected her to conform to my idea of what I thought a partner should be. In ways, she had done the same thing to me. There was still a small pool of resentment in me, a part of myself that still felt had we just been honest with each other and with ourselves, we would've dodged a lot of pain. It was part of the reason I was such a stickler on honesty and full disclosure. I'd seen the dark side of love in more ways than one and I didn't particularly care to ever tread that ground again. If the light of honesty would keep us safe, I would use it as my guide.

  Lenorre had said nothing between us had changed and yet, I felt changed. I'd walked through my entire life never thinking that I'd do what I'd done with Lenorre and Eris, especially when in a committed relationship. How was I supposed to feel? I sure as hell wasn't sure.

  Why did it seem that the preternatural complicated everything?

  Fucking lust and metaphysics, it was enough to make me want to scream.

  CHAPTER twenty-three

  could still feel the faint impression of Eris's fangs. The memory of her body clung to my hair and skin, to my lips and hands like a sin no soap or water could wash away. I could smell her and Lenorre, as if I'd bathed in their respective scents. Lenorre's clothes were not so destroyed that she couldn't put them back on. I picked up my shredded jeans and dropped them. The jeans, the bra, and my underwear were completely useless, torn by Eris's greedy hands. The button of Lenorre's jeans was broken, but she was still able to pull them on and hide the broken button by pulling her sweater down over them. She handed me a soft green throw from the back of the armchair in front of the fireplace. "I will go find some clothes for you," she said, kissing me before she left the room.

  I wrapped the blanket around me, sitting back on the couch and sighing heavily. My mind still reeled.

  I thought Lenorre was already returning with clothes when the door opened. I turned to find it wasn't Lenorre who stood in the doorway.

  Rosalin's gaze settled on my face after sweeping the room, her hand unmoving on the doorknob.

  "Ros?"

  She turned and walked out, but not before I'd caught the look on her face. I scrambled off the couch, holding the throw around my body.

  "Rosalin!" I called after her, hearing her hurried footsteps as she climbed the stairs. I stumbled up behind her, speaking to her back. "Rosalin! Wait." I dove forward, catching her wrist. Rosalin turned on me with preternatural quickness. She jerked her arm away from my touch, recoiling as if I had burned her.

  "You smell like her," she said. "You smell like them both." Her face was drawn in tight, painful lines, lines of hurt and disgust I didn't understand.

  "Rosalin," I said, voice small and soft. I reached for her and she put a hand up to ward me off.

  "Don't touch me, Kassandra. Don't fucking touch me right now."

  I felt my surprised expression. My lips seemed frozen in their half-parted state. That old familiar fire returned to my veins.

  "Excuse me? Where the hell is this coming from? What is your problem?"

  "All this time you've sworn unbending loyalty and monogamy to Lenorre and"-she gestured at me with a hand-"this? Kassandra…really?"

  "It just happened, Rosalin."

  "What? You just happened to slip and impale yourself on Eris's fangs? Don't give me that bullshit, Kassandra. The least you could do is be honest with me."

  "I am fucking being honest with you, Ros! What the hell? Why are you angry?"

  "I could hear you," Rosalin said. "I could hear all of you."

  "Maybe you shouldn't have eavesdropped." As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn't. Rosalin flinched as my words struck her and hit home. I took a step toward her. "I'm sorry, Rosalin. I didn't mean that."

  "Yeah," she said. "You did."

  I didn't know what to do. I understood she was angry with me, but I didn't really understand why. I took a deep breath, trying to release the defensiveness I felt, trying to let go of the anger that threatened to rise in me.

  "I didn't mean to hurt you," I said. "I don't know why you're so upset or how I've hurt you, but I didn't mean to."

  "Well," she said. "You did. Thanks, Kassandra. Thanks for letting me know how much you care about me."

  "I do care about you, Rosalin," I said. "I care about you more than you know. Is that what this is about?"

  "But you don't love me," she said.

  Those were not words I'd expected.

  "Romantically, no," I stammered. "And you know that. I'm in love with Lenorre, Rosalin. Why is this bothering you so much? What is that supposed to mean?"

  "You chose Eris over me," she said. "You could have had me. You could have taken me to your bed, and you chose her."

  "If you don't remember, Rosalin, we have slept together. I didn't choose anyone. I told you, it just happened. Eris offered me energy that Lenorre couldn't, and even though things got a little out of hand, she did help to heal me, Rosalin."

  She shook her head. "Kassandra, the one time we slept together, I was the one doing all the work. I pursued you. I fucked you. I was fully clothed and you didn't even touch me."

  "So what? I wounded your pride? What the hell, Rosalin?"

  "You really never thought for a second that might have hurt my feelings, just a little bit?"

  "I didn't know you, Rosalin!"

  "But you do now, Kassandra. The woman you don't know is Eris, and from what I heard, the fucking was reciprocated."

  I took a deep breath, counting
to ten.

  "You kicked me out, like you knew it was going to happen and didn't want me around to see it."

  Surprisingly, my voice when it came was calm. "No, Rosalin. I didn't know it was going to happen. But I'd had a taste of Eris's power before, and if things had gotten out of hand with you in the room, I don't think my sensibilities could've taken it. You know me, Rosalin."

  "I thought I did," she said, sounding as if there was something sour in her mouth. "Now I'm just starting to think you have a preference for vampires like everyone else."

  "What is that supposed to mean? You've let Eris bite you. You readily admit to having gotten off on her fangs. What right do you have to throw this in my face and why on the Goddess's green earth are you acting like this?"

  "Because!" she yelled that one word, as she stepped in close, "I want someone to look at me the way you look at them. I want someone to desire me the way you desire them. I want someone to hold me the way you and Lenorre hold each other, as if you can't get enough, as if you could never get enough. I don't get that. I get to see it prancing around me on a daily fucking basis, but I don't get it, not even a scrap of it. Every day, I get to remember that when you could've had me, you turned around and chose Lenorre. And you know what? I don't blame you, Kassandra. I really don't, but the fact that you never even really fucking considered me, another wolf, yes, that fucking hurts."

  "I'm sorry, Rosalin. I'm sorry I couldn't be that woman for you."

  I knew in that moment it wasn't me she wanted, not really. It was an idea that she craved, something her heart longed to find in a person. We'd talked about our friendship. Rosalin wasn't in love with me and I wasn't in love with her. We knew that about each other. If I offered her sex, I knew she would've taken it, not for a one-night stand or just to get off, but because she was seeking comfort and a connection. Something I knew in my heart I couldn't give her, not the way she wanted it.

  "What I want, it doesn't exist. Not for me."

  "Yes, it does, Rosalin. Love requires faith."

  "I'm out of faith," she said. "I'm dry, Kassandra. I'm out of faith, out of hope. I'm just…empty. I'm empty and I'm sick and tired of waiting for some woman to come along and fill me, to want me."

  "You're not empty, Rosalin. There's love all around you and if you can't see that, I can't open your eyes and make you see it. It may not be the kind of passionate love or soul connection you're looking for, but it's love nonetheless, and that should be worth something."

  "Do you love me, even a little?" she asked and there was something close to fear in her honey gaze.

  "Love comes in many forms," I said. "Yes, I love you, just not the way you seem to want me to. I'm sorry, Ros. I really am, but I'm being honest with you when I tell you, you don't choose who you fall in love with. It just happens."

  "Do you mean that?" she asked.

  "You know she means it," Lenorre said, standing at the top of the stairs with a bundle of clothes in her hands. "We both love you, Rosalin. It may not be in the way you wish, but we do."

  I could smell the sweet salt-tang of Rosalin's tears, though she'd turned and hidden her face from us. I went to her, touching her shoulder, and when she didn't protest or shrug me off, I wrapped an arm around her waist. Rosalin folded her arms around me, holding on to me as if I were her anchor or life preserver. I brushed my cheek across hers, feeling the longing of the wolf within to comfort and soothe. Though we both wanted to ease her pain, a cold stone of knowledge dropped to the pit of my stomach. I knew that we could not.

  What her soul screamed for, I couldn't give her. It just wasn't there inside of me to give. It was true, I loved Rosalin. She was beautiful inside and out, but whatever ingredient it was that set the foundation for Lenorre's and my relationship wasn't there between Rosalin and me.

  I felt safe with Lenorre, but with Rosalin, I felt like I needed to protect her.

  Was that what it was?

  Rosalin backed away and hit the wall. She slid down it, burying her face in her hands and sobbing as if she couldn't stop herself. I knelt and touched her hair. I looked at the young woman in front of me and saw pain, so much pain. An immense well of it that had accumulated drop by drop, filling her skin to near bursting, from the loss of her parents when she was twenty-one to the abuse she'd been subjected to as beta of the Blackthorne Pack. How could I help her? I couldn't erase her past. I couldn't reach in and miraculously heal her and I couldn't love her the way she needed to be loved, the way she deserved to be loved.

  The pain in my chest made it feel as though a piece of my soul were breaking. Rosalin's sobs grew heavier. She was whispering over and over, "Make it stop. Just make it stop."

  Every word was ragged with a desperation that raked its claws at my heart. I couldn't make it stop. I didn't know how.

  Rosalin howled her sorrow, throwing her head back against the wall hard enough that she knocked a hole in it.

  "Rosalin!" I grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her body into mine, ignoring the blood trickling down her back. I locked my arms around her like shackles, trying to pull her away from the wall. "Rosalin!"

  She continued fighting me, wiggling and trying to shake off my hold.

  "Let me go!"

  "No," I said, crying. "No, Rosalin. I'm not going to let you go."

  "I just want it to stop, Kassandra. Don't you understand? I can't live like this," she sobbed, choking on the words.

  I seized her face between my hands. "Rosalin," I said, "breathe. I know you're in pain. I know your heart hurts. Just breathe."

  Rosalin shook her head too fast, too sharp, her movements jerky and frantic. She tried to pull away from me again and I could feel the fine thread she hung from, so frail it was close to snapping. If I didn't do something, it would break, and in her panic, I didn't know what she would do.

  I didn't think; there wasn't enough time to ponder my next move. I lowered my shields, summoning the wolf within as if calling her from a distance. The wolf came running, running toward my call, her energy spilling and drifting through me. I held Rosalin's face in my hands and put my forehead against hers.

  The first spark of wolf energy kindled between us, and for a moment, I thought she would be receptive to it, thought she would stop fighting. But she didn't. Rosalin's entire body went rigid. She shoved me hard enough that I had to put a hand back on the carpet to catch myself while she clambered to her feet. Her eyes were wild, searching for an escape route.

  The wall shuddered and Lenorre was there, holding Rosalin back against it with an arm like a bar of steel across her chest. Rosalin struggled in an effort to get away, but it was in vain. Lenorre was too strong, even for her.

  "Please," she pleaded.

  "You want the pain to stop?"

  "Yes," she cried. "Yes! Please!"

  The hallway crackled with Lenorre's energy like a rumble of thunder. Pinpricks of ice marched up and down my skin. In the face of Lenorre's power, Rosalin went completely still.

  "Please," she whispered. "Make it go away. Make it stop."

  Lenorre's skin was luminous. Her power crept over every inch of my skin, brushed every tiny hair on my arms.

  Lenorre didn't say anything. She used no words to control and direct her power, but I felt it, felt it narrowing down on the wolf before her, felt her pushing that cool energy into the center of Rosalin's body.

  Rosalin turned her face into Lenorre's power like a blossom turns to a kiss of sunlight. Only this was not sunlight, and nowhere near as harsh the glare. Lenorre shaped her power into a gentle thing and pushed it into Rosalin's body, into her soul. Rosalin's features went slack, her lips parting, and her breath easing out in a sigh. Every muscle in her body unclenched; relaxed to the point that Lenorre had to hold her or she would've crumpled, uncaring.

  Aside from the soft whisper of our breathing, the hallway was enveloped in silence. I got to my feet, wiping the tears from my face with a corner of the blanket. Lenorre withdrew her power and I shuddered as I felt it like a
serpent slithering past my skin.

  She gracefully scooped Rosalin into her arms and said, "Kassandra, the door."

  I opened the door to Rosalin's room and Lenorre laid her on the bed. "She will sleep for a time."

  I stood there, unsure what to do, knowing that I couldn't leave Rosalin but desperately wanting to be anywhere else. I felt guilty all over again; guilty that I hadn't realized how close to the edge she had been. Guilty that my actions had driven her damn near over it.

  Lenorre touched my cheek tenderly, bringing me back to myself. "I will get your clothes from the hall," she said, pulling me close and kissing the top of my head. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to relax.

  "This isn't just about me, is it?" I asked her.

  I felt Lenorre softly shake her head. "No, my love, it is not."

  And it wasn't. It may have initially been about the sex accident and Rosalin's loneliness, but it was so much more than that. How had I not seen it before it happened? Carver himself had said that Rosalin had endured worse at Sheila's hands than this. I knew there was a well of sorrow inside Rosalin that she didn't show anyone. I'd seen it back around Thanksgiving when she'd broken down over the loss of her parents and admitted that the holidays depressed her.

  And when we'd first met, I'd seen the scars on her back, scars I knew had been Sheila Morris's doing, though Rosalin never told me truthfully what happened.

  She never talked about Sheila torturing her.

  I rarely hate, but standing in Rosalin's room with her induced in a sort of vampiric coma, I felt hatred. I felt hatred toward Sheila for taking this beautiful woman that life had already been unkind to and showing her ugliness and cruelty; hatred toward an alpha that took her own history of abuse out on the innocents in her pack.

  There was light in Rosalin, a beautiful light. I saw it when she laughed and when she smiled, and though she'd broken down in November, something had changed in her since then, something I hadn't seen until it was too late.

  Sheila had buried Rosalin alive, but what else she may have said or done remained a mystery to me.

  I had an image then of Sheila, so strong that it superimposed Rosalin's bedroom. I saw her face close to mine and her mouth shaping lies, disgusting, cruel lies.