by Lucinda Dark
After what happened at the nightclub, I had expected some change in Torin. On the surface, everything was normal—or as normal as it could get with witches and vampires and demons in the mix. Torin and I went back to how we were—except we didn’t. On the surface, we acted as though nothing had happened at the club. I still went to his guesthouse. We trained. I drank the vials he gave me. I ate lunch with Olivia and Ben. Sometimes Torin joined us. Other than driving me to school and back, Maverick was hell bent on avoiding me. We were play acting out the parts we had before as if we all wanted to go back when things weren’t nearly so fucking complicated. It was a lie.
Tension vibrated between us. Slowly building. I began to have dreams—dreams of another me, my vampire, coming to the forefront as she had before. She wasn’t an enemy anymore, so much as she was a new part of me I still wasn’t quite sure how to interact with. Did I continue to suppress her and risk an explosion of bloodthirst like what had nearly happened my first day back at school? Obviously, that wasn’t the smartest of options. What else was I left with than to let her … say her piece?
And what a glorious piece it is. She rose up as if just thinking about her had conjured her from the depths of my mind. What’s with all of this guilt you’re feeling? You know we had fun. Why not do it again?
There are more important things to think about than … I scrunched up my nose as I shoved books into my locker and let it bang shut. That.
Come on, you can say it, she pressed. Sex. Delicious, red-hot, vampire sex.
The memories of Torin and I flashed through my head. It wasn’t just sex. It had been something more. Something groundbreaking. But now I was craving both blood and … that. It was a lot to take on. I shook the thoughts off as quickly as they had come. This was all so fucked up. So unnecessary. What I needed to be focused on was finding Esperanza and figuring out a way to kill Arrius Priest.
You’re worried you will hurt the human, my vampire stated. I hated her in that moment, but mostly because she was right. I was terrified of hurting Maverick. Torin could take it, Maverick was—well, I thought he was human, but after I’d taken blood from him the night before, something seemed off. He hadn’t tasted like what I was used to—not the bagged blood I’d had before and not like Torin’s blood. I wondered if it was just because I’d taken it from his vein. But then that didn’t explain why’d he’d practically dumped me out of his arms and ran the second I asked him about it. And … I reached out and touched my lips; I hadn’t upchucked what I’d taken from him either.
More and more worries and questions kept piling on. I let my hand drop with a groan. I’d been so focused on what had happened to me—nearly dying, being turned against my will—and what I was planning—tracking down the black witch and killing Arrius—that I hadn’t really stopped to realize that even without all of that, my life was well and truly fucked. And I’d done it to myself.
I had sex with Maverick and then Torin and I’d done it before all hell had broken loose. The only reason the three of us hadn’t sat down to have it out was because we hadn’t fucking had a chance. We’d been going full throttle since I’d awoken in that tomb. By my own mistake, it had led to a lot of pent up energy and that had all come to a head at the nightclub.
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the hard metal of my locker. So fucked up… I thought. Everything was spinning out of control.
“Barbie?” Olivia’s voice sounded right next to me, jerking me out of my trance.
I stumbled away from the lockers and turned, spotting her leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed on me.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re weird today,” she commented. “What’s up with you?”
“What?” I scoffed. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Bullshit, homegirl,” she replied, uncrossing her arms and waving one in my general direction. “You’ve got that guilty look.”
“The what?” I looked down at myself before back up at her with a frown. “What are you talking about? There’s not a look.”
“I don’t know what’s going on in your life, girl, but whatever it is, we really need to dish it out.” A smile stole across her face and she leapt forward, snatching my hand up in both of hers. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it all planned out. This weekend. You and me. The city. The lights. The sounds. The shopping!” She squealed, jumping up and down excitedly even as she continued to hold onto my hands. “You promised and I’ve got everything arranged. Prom is literally weeks away—Jesus, I can’t believe we’ve waited this long, but knowing you, I shouldn’t be surprised.” She released me and nodded. “Considering that you waited until the last minute to tell me you were interested in homecoming, I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I huffed.
“Um…” Olivia jutted her chin out and shook her head slightly. “Do you not remember?” she asked. “Promising me that we could go to the city for a weekend getaway? Prom dress shopping. Geez, were you always this much of a forgetful ditz?”
The irony of her words was not lost on me. If either of us fit the role of a ditz, it’d be her, not me. “I don’t know if I really should—” I started.
Olivia gasped and rushed me, nearly knocking me over as her finger jammed up into my face. “Oh no,” she snapped. “No freakin’ way, missy. You said you would, and I cleared it with Mrs. McKnight. You’re going. I’m driving. End of story. We’re going this weekend and that’s final.”
I pursed my lips down at the offensive digit she had pointed at my chest. When she didn’t seem to get the memo, I sighed, gently reaching down and removing her finger before I strode around her. I began walking as the final bell chimed, announcing that we were—once again—late to class.
“Barbara whatever-your-middle-name-is Steele,” Olivia said, huffing as she kept pace with me.
“It’s Elizabeth,” I said, “and don’t ever call me Barbara again.” I shuddered. God, I fucking hated that name.
“What’s Elizabeth?” she asked, frowning.
“My middle name.”
“You mean like Elizabeth McKnight?”
I paused, my feet slowing to a stop. I hadn’t thought about that, but … Holy shit. Maybe I had been named after Elizabeth—she and my mom had been best friends after all, and Beth said that she’d known me when I’d been born. I grimaced and started walking again.
“I guess,” I mumbled. “I don’t know.” And I never would. Because my mother was dead, and she’d never be able to tell me if my middle name came from her college best friend. What I needed to do was focus on making her killer pay.
“That’s kinda cute,” Olivia blathered on. “A little weird what with things so obvious between you and Maverick.”
“What?” I stopped again, this time spinning on her so quickly that she stumbled back and nearly went down. Quick as a flash, I reached out and grabbed her arm, keeping her from falling.
“Thanks—”
“What did you mean by me and Maverick?” I demanded.
She blinked her big blue eyes up at me. “Aren’t the two of you dating?”
“What?” I dropped her arm and took a step back. “Why the fuck would you ask me that?”
If it were possible, her eyes rounded even wider. “I mean—isn’t that why he beat up that kid in the locker room? He was talking bad about you and Maverick beat the crap out of him. I thought it was because you two were…” She nodded her head at me meaningfully. “You know,” she said. “Dating.”
“We’re not,” I snapped. “And we never will.” I turned away.
“Why? Is it because of you and Torin? I thought you said you weren’t dating him either? You guys had sex, you were just having fun, right? I know about that. It’s okay—”
“No! God, stop fucking talking about this.” I whirled on her as I clenched my hands at my sides. “Can’t you fucking get a goddamn clue?” I asked. “Are you too stupid to pick up the sig
nals? I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not dating Maverick. I’m not dating Torin. Just. Fucking. Drop. It.”
For a moment, there was utter silence. Olivia gaped at me and I shook like I was about to lose it at any moment. I didn’t know what emotion I was feeling, only that I didn’t fucking like it. It curdled in my stomach like sour milk and made my abdomen clench in pain.
I think that’s called fear, darling, Satrina said.
I closed my eyes and took a breath. I really don’t need any fucking side commentary right now, I replied.
Oh no? She sounded tired, her voice quiet and brisk. Straight to the point. Perhaps not, but what you need, right now, is to take a look at your friend.
I swallowed and opened my eyes. Olivia stared back at me, pink staining her cheeks. For the first time since I’d known her, I saw why people said not to test redheads. Her hand came up in an arch and my head snapped to the side. It didn’t hurt. In fact, my head had merely turned out of shock, rather than any actual force behind her meager swat. As if my body recognized that my head was supposed to turn when I was slapped and not because she had actually forced it to the side. Slowly—ever so gradually—I looked back at her, and I waited.
“I know I’m not that smart,” she confessed, lowering her arm. “I know people think I’m ditzy and stupid. But I’m your fucking friend, Barbie. Even if you’re not dating Maverick or Torin—or hell, date both for all I care—I just want to know about you and your life.” Her lips twitched, turning down and curling, the lower one trembling as she tried to hold the watery tears in her eyes at bay. She sniffed hard. “I’ve never asked you for more than I know you’re willing to tell me,” she continued. “I’ve seen people with the same look that you have—like you’re fighting against the world. I know you’re hiding secrets from me. I may not be bright, but I know that much. What you just said—how you said it—I didn’t deserve that.”
My lips parted but words failed me. She was right. Satrina was right. I’d said what I’d said because I was scared. My eyes sought the ground. “I … don’t know what’s going on between me and Maverick and Torin,” I admitted. The words scraped out of my throat, bitter and raw. I didn’t want to say them, but I felt like I had to give something back to her. Make up for my harsh, thoughtlessness. “I’m sorry.”
The shiny ends of her flats appeared in my line of vision and I glanced up, meeting her gaze. She swallowed. “Okay,” she said. “I accept your apology.” Then with a wince, she squeezed her eyes shut so tightly her whole face scrunched and she looked like she swallowed a lemon. “I’m ready now,” she said through gritted teeth.
I waited. The longer I waited, the closer my brows drew together. Still, she didn’t stop making that stupid ass face. “Um…” I began. “What exactly are you waiting for?”
She peeked one eye open at me. “I slapped you,” she said, grimacing at the reminder. “I’m waiting for you to punch me.”
I snorted. “I’m not going to punch you, Olivia.”
“Are you just saying that so I’ll stop preparing for it and then you’ll really punch me?” she asked.
I laughed outright, shaking my head. “No,” I promised. “You were right. I was mean and you didn’t deserve it. The slap was much deserved.”
Her face relaxed somewhat, but she continued to watch me cautiously—scanning my figure as I pivoted away. “Also,” I said, grinning as she tensed again, “it’s actually worse if you tense up. If your muscles are relaxed, a hit just rolls through you.”
“Is that something I should know for future reference?” she asked as she fell in line behind me and we started walking once more.
“I fucking hope not.” I looked at her as we continued down the hall. “And for the record,” I said, my lips twitching with amusement as she glanced my way, “if I had punched you, I would’ve dislocated your jaw.”
Chapter 20
Maverick
If someone had told me that rock bottom had a fucking basement, I would've told them that it didn't just have a basement, it had a fucking dungeon complete with torture devices.
Sweat covered every inch of my skin. I panted and swallowed against the massive lump in my fucking throat. Fire raced along my spine and shot sharp pains into each of my vertebrae. My lips parted on a gasp as I writhed beneath the sheets. Darkness encroached, taking me over completely—stealing my screams and my sanity. The beastly creature was back and he hovered just beyond my reach. I could feel the piercing heat of his gaze, watching me. Waiting. For what, though, I had not a single fucking clue.
Something was happening to me. My skin was melting away, my bones turning to ash and dust before burning bright, flaming back to life. The longer I resided in the dark fires of hell, the stronger I felt. Skin knitted back together over new bones, stretching tautly over new muscles. I writhed on a cold surface, and somehow, I felt larger. I couldn’t lay straight. I curved over to the side as the flat surface made the spikes on my back bend awkwardly.
Wait … spikes? I looked back, my eyes widening as golden lances shot out of my spine and lined my back. And when I tried to reach back to touch one, I noticed that my hands had changed as well. Into a paw of sorts, with skin rougher than leather and scales that shimmered under the firelight.
I blinked and the image was gone. I sat up in bed, sweat coating my skin, soaking through the cotton of my shirt and making it stick to me. I pushed a slow breath through my mouth and reached back, peeling the wet fabric over my head and tossing it to the floor somewhere in the dark room. Scrubbing a hand down my face, I shifted until my legs swung over the side of the mattress. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I stood and wavered. I reached for my phone and slid it into the pocket of my sweats before slapping a hand against the wall as my knees went weak. What the fuck was wrong with me? I stumbled through the bedroom, my vision blurry, until I reached the door. An achy groan worked its way up my chest.
Shit, I felt like complete and utter shit.
It’s the change, a deep voice answered.
I froze, my hand on the doorknob. The change?
Yes, he answered. Your body is going through a metamorphosis of sorts. To prepare you to accept my powers, you must be willing to shift.
My lips parted as the air conditioner kicked on, blowing cool air over my heated skin. I didn’t say anything back, but I didn’t need to. The beast was inside me. The medallion burned against the center of my chest—where it had remained since I’d taken it from Esperanza.
You are afraid, the beast said. Not a question. A statement. You need not fear the power I have to give you. You asked for it. Are you no longer willing—
“I am.” The words came out of my mouth, loud in the otherwise silent room. I pressed my lips together and continued on in my head, sure the creature would hear. I am still willing, but not knowing what it will do is … unsettling.
You cannot gain something without first giving something in return. You give up your humanity, and I will give you the power that you seek.
What will it change me into? I asked. It wasn’t that I feared becoming a monster, but after what had happened to Milner and how the reminder often made that same extreme anger rage throughout my body, I didn’t feel like myself anymore. I wanted a warning. I wanted a way to prepare for what I was about to go through.
You are being transformed into a creature worthy of the light, was all the beast said. Instead of giving me a plain answer as I’d hoped, he’d given me yet more riddles. And as soon as he’d said it, I felt him vanish—molding back into the deepest corner of my mind, leaving me empty once more.
My hand clenched on the doorknob and I jerked it open. The hallway was dark. I moved into it, feeling along the wall with the palm of my hand until I reached the top of the stairs before descending as silently as I could manage. I crept through the downstairs, having to avoid the furniture mostly by memory without turning the lights on. I found the backdoor and moved outside, my breath coming in faster pants.
My skin r
ippled over my spine and I cursed, nearly going down on my knees as pain worked through my bones. “Shit!” I hissed. Something popped inside of me and suddenly, I could smell every fucking thing.
Rich cedar and pine wood. Dirty, matted fur from a nearby animal—something small, with a fast beating heart that I could hear. Engine oil. I closed my eyes and breathed through my mouth, trying to alleviate the abrupt shift of my senses. I didn’t know how long I remained like that, locked in a hunched over position, the medallion hanging from around my neck, dangling in front of my face reminding me that I hadn’t just asked for this—I’d demanded it, and I’d been offered every out before I took it.
After several moments of quiet panting, I managed to work my hand down into my pocket and retrieved my cell. I knew there was a reason I’d brought it with me. I dialed the number by rote memory. I slapped the phone onto the porch floor next to me and let it ring.
The ringing stopped. “What’s wrong?” Torin asked, his tone alert and awake as if it wasn’t—I checked the time in the top right hand corner of my screen—fuck it was fucking three a.m.
I pushed out a rough breath as I felt something move beneath my skin, slithering up my back and around my side until it reached my throat. When I spoke, it was in a voice that wasn’t mine. “Get here,” I said. “Now.” My voice was filled with a scorching rasp—deeper than any I’d heard before.
Thankfully, he didn’t ask any questions. “I’m on my way.” The phone clicked.
Jesus fucking Christ. Sweat poured down my temples. The pain stretched on. It could’ve been ten minutes, it could’ve been two fucking hours. I couldn’t tell. Every second blurred into the next. I lifted my head as the backdoor clicked open, but the scent that reached me wasn’t Torin’s. I knew because it smelled like the same snow breeze shampoo that I knew my mom stocked in the hall bathroom accompanied by a hint of blood. Barbie.