My Immortal

by Anastasia Dangerfield

  Once at Shadow's side, I kneel back down next to the two arrows in his left side.

  His blood has puddle into the dirt all around him and the area around each arrow is purple and inflamed. It looks very painful.

  "I need you to roll over Shadow. I really hope all of the arrows went out the other side so that we can break off the tip and I can pull them out."

  "Are they poisonous arrows?" Jezebel asks with concern in her voice.

  "No." I respond bitterly. This claim she thinks she has on him is absurd.

  He rolls over with my help, his skin twitching when I touch his side to push him onto his back.

  I immediately push that into the little black vault of pain in the back of my mind.

  I exhale gustily. "Of course, four are showing through and the one in your side is not." I bow my head, praying for patience. "Can we not get a break?" I hiss.

  Shadow stares straight up into the dark night sky with the tiny diamonds flickering all across it.

  "Just get on with it, Alexia. I'm getting older by the minute."

  "He needs to feed," Jezebel offers.

  We both look at her.

  "I know that!" I say.

  She holds her hands up in a "whoa, okay jeez" manner.

  "I'm just saying, demons need to feed three times a day, just like us. And he hasn't even fed since I woke up, and he's injured and lost a lot of blood…"

  "Yes, I'm sure demons do…" I say with pregnant meaning, enjoying her confusion. I smile (mostly teeth) at her and break off an arrow tip.

  Shadow grunts and I watch the cords in his neck flex as his muscles tense.

  His body is so nice, I think, dreamily.

  His head is tilted back a little, I guess because of the pain, and his jaw grinds as I break another arrow tip off and toss it behind me. His fangs are at their longest length again and a mental picture of them sinking into my neck flashes through my mind.

  His eyes open, immediately landing on mine with knowledge that he saw my mental picture. He squeezes his eyes shut and moans again, but this time it sounds more like annoyance.

  What the hell?

  For that, I break the third one off and toss it.

  His chest is heaving up and down and his fists are bawled. The cords in his arms are flexed taught along with every ab muscle he possesses.

  I glance up at Jezebel and her eyes are glued to his stomach as she licks her lips.

  This fuels my fury so I move to the last arrow tip. Fortunately, it's on the wing opposite from me so I can take this to my advantage. Eyes on her, smile in place, I straddle him, pausing for just a second on his stomach causing his head to whip up, eyes wide open with shock and something else, before I slide completely across to kneel on his other side.

  I give him my most innocent smile.

  "You had to assault the injured boy with your feminine wiles instead of walking around or stepping over his legs?" she asks incredulously.

  I look up at her with my most convincing stupid face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  She glares at me.

  Now, on to his wing.

  I gently lift the delicate feathers of his heavy, obsidian wing. His wingspread rivals Gabriel's and may be the strongest wings I have ever seen. I know for a fact that Gabe couldn't fly that far with an arrow in his wing.

  Wings are so sensitive that plucking just one feather is equivalent to being poked with a needle on the tip of your pinky.

  I lay the wing on my knees and examine the wound. The beautiful black feathers are slick with his lifeblood, making them glisten in the sun; but the moment I touch them my fingers come away stained with red.

  I gently grab the tip of the arrow and break it off, causing his wing to jerk and him to grunt while smacking his fist into the ground.

  I brace his wing as best I can as I yank the stem of the arrow out from the back end. He roars loudly and curls his wing into himself. It looks so pitiful and I would much rather comfort him than inflict this pain on him.

  I give him breaks in between but I pull out the other three arrows one by one in a span of about half an hour.

  The others are still not back from the stream yet and I store this away to worry about after I have rid him of the final, most dangerous arrow.

  "Alright, last but not least," I say, motioning him to turn back over onto his stomach.

  He obliges me and Jezebel grabs his hand and squeezes for support.

  "He doesn't really like to be touched," I tell her.

  "Maybe not by you then," she nods towards their joined hands, proving a point.

  Whether I'm mad at her, Shadow, or both, I take it out on him by yanking the arrow through unexpectedly.

  Blood flies everywhere and I hear tendons, ligatures, and muscle tear.

  His scream is silent this time but his whole body is taught and I can see the pained expression on Jezebel's face as he squeezes her hand too hard.

  Ha! That's what she gets.

  I stem the flow of blood with my hand as the silent scream fades from his face.

  "Why aren't you're exceptional healing skills kicking in?" I wonder aloud.

  "He needs blood in order for the process to start," she answers.

  "I'm not talking about a normal demon's accelerated healing abilities, you moron! I was asking him a question that you don't really know anything about."

  She rolls her eyes at me. "Whatever, just pull the other arrows out before he passes out."

  I huff indignantly and pull the arrows out that I had already broken the tips off of.

  You okay, Shadow?

  If dizziness and weakness are feeling okay then count me in. My head is spinning like a top.

  Do you really need to feed as often as we need to eat?

  Not really, I'm used to going days without it now. At once time I did. But now I probably couldn't feed that much if I tried.

  Oh. Alright. Well, you aren't healing like you were when you punched the wall…

  I think that's because I lost so much blood. I just need to be at optimum health in order to heal that fast. But I still have those abilities; it's how I could still fly that far, that long, with four arrows in my body and one in my wing.

  Jezebel clears her throat. "Well, he needs to feed now. I can't stand seeing him suffer any longer."

  Next thing I know, she emerges her fake demon fangs and punches two deep fang holes into her wrist, then shoves it into his mouth.

  Oh hell.

  What are you doing?!" I ask, desperately.

  "What does it look like?" she hisses. "Healing him."

  He didn't really have much of a choice to drink with her shoving her leaking wrist into his mouth, but I hate having to watch him latch onto her for a second time.

  You're going to be sick, I mind-link to him.

  He groans. You're probably right.

  I check out his wounds. They don't seem to be mending themselves but the blood flow has stopped.

  No!, he thinks, sounding shocked and scared with horrible disbelief.

  Stunned, he releases her wrist and shakily pushes himself up into sitting position and just stares at me with a look of trepidation.

  "What is it?" I ask, panicking.

  What?" Jezebel asks sounding confused.

  He shakes his head, unable to speak the words and I'm dying with curiosity and nervousness.

  "Nothing. I just feel sick."

  He wraps his arms around his stomach then and starts to breathe deeply through his nose.

  You're lying, I send.

  Oh gods, I've made a horrible mistake! He grabs his hair with both hands and pulls. His beautiful face is twisted into a heartbreaking, anguished expression as he sits with his elbows on his knees, head bowed.

  I am scared to know, but I ask anyways. "What?"

  My voice is breathy, timid, and barely more than a whisper.

  Jezebel is just watching him, patiently waiting with big, wide eyes.

  He moans and his hands hug h
is stomach. Knowing what is about to happen I immediately move a respectable distance.

  Seconds later he is doubled over vomiting her blood.

  And that's how it should be.

  Her blood belongs in the dirt, where she does. That filthy slut.

  After a few minutes when I think he is over his spell I move back to his side, although he managed to crawl a good distance from his mess.

  I start biting my nails, unsure of what to say.

  The sun is starting to set and the lingering light is dim.

  Jezebel's form wavers and in the next instant she has returned to her "pretty girl" form. The way she was when she first graced my presence and I was so jealous of her.

  Scanning that new form I find my feelings of jealousy still linger.

  She hesitantly raises her hand and rests it on his shoulder. He flinches and her mouth twists. She moves her hand back to her lap.

  "Why did you throw up, Shadow?" she asks. "You need to try to keep it down if you're going to heal and survive."

  His head moves back and forth, still buried in his arms.

  I nod. "She's right. We can't stay here long, the Guard could be after us. Or worse"…The Hell Horde…

  He lifts his head up only enough to scan the woods for the rest of our crew whom appear to still be at the creek. He sighs. I know I don't deserve it. And I hate even asking. But if you don't want to leave me then I need your blood so I can heal.

  Of course, Shadow. You need only to ask. It is my honor.

  Yeah, you think so now. But you won't think so for long…

  I know he is hiding something from me. Something that he just can't tell me right now. He can't tell me because he can't accept it, and as much as it worries me, I'm willing to let him come to terms with it and tell me in his own time. I trust him that much.

  You will tell me when you're ready. I trust you still.

  He closes his eyes. "How do you want to do this?" He asks with his eyes still shut.

  He finally turns his head towards me, his cheek lying on his knees, naked arms framing his face.

  "H-however you want," I reply.

  "Do what?" Jezebel huffs.

  "He needs my blood."

  Jezebel continues arguing about my blood versus her blood before I tune her out completely because the red eyes that stole my heart are staring right into mine.

  I hold his stare and time seems to stand still.

  He raises his head and drops his arms to the ground grimacing when he puts some weight on them to scoot towards me.

  "Don't," I whisper. "I'll come to you…"

  And I do. I move to sit directly in front of all of his masculine beauty. As the light fades even more around us, his eyes shine like a bright, beautiful flame…and I am drawn to him.

  Face to face we sit, eating each other up with kind eyes. When his eyes have been burned into my mind and I am positive to remember even the small sparkles and jagged lines running through them, I let my eyes drop to his nose. From there they fall to my true interest. My heart skips a beat at my mistake.

  I want to remember what it is like to feel his lips pressed up against mine. How warm and full of life they must be. To want something so much and be so close, yet not be able to attain it is what I can only explain as agony. My Soul screams and pleads with me. Every nerve on my body comes to life with expectance.

  Yet it's the same every time now. Nothing happens.

  I focus on those gleaming fang tips that poke out from his full upper lip. The lower ones usually stay hidden beneath his perfect lower lip somehow, and the cuteness of that makes my lips tip up involuntarily.

  Wondering about him so close to my face, I look back up just as his eyes are darting back to mine from some unknown part of my face.

  I wonder if he ever feels the want to kiss me again. Has it just completely left him as if it was never there? Did he have his fill of me and no longer thirsts for anything other than my blood?

  Staring intensely into his eyes I ask myself these things, not receiving an answer. Not caring if he is listening in.

  I only wish I could listen in.

  I read somewhere once that your eyes were windows into your soul, but I can no longer see into his.

  It's because I don't have one anymore, Sweetling.

  My gaze doesn't falter or flinch as I think as hard as I can about our last kiss and the pleasure it brought me.

  How in love I felt.

  I know he's listening in now that he replied about his lost soul and my plan works when he glances down and my lips tingle just knowing he's remembering.

  Maybe even wondering.

  Is it too much to hope that he's wanting?

  He leans down and lands a butterfly kiss on the corner of my mouth, followed by one on my cheek.

  I push the disappointment down as it wells up inside my body.

  My hands ball into tight fists at my side as he plants a sweet kiss on my neck and I know what's coming next.

  And I want it, but it really almost ruins it for me that he wouldn't be doing this with me if he didn't have to.

  His fangs break my skin, sinking into the large veins at my neck as my lifeblood flows into those lips I lust after, nourishing the boy I love.

  "Um okay…I expect some explaining when this is over," Jezebel mutters while we ignore her.

  My knees are killing me after holding my weight on them facing him for so long. I forgot about the bruises on my knees and legs from the cell.

  I manage to shift my weight and sit sideways on my legs just as Shadow turns his head for a different angle, causing me to lose my balance.

  I fall backward, my head landing in the soft grass along the tree-line. His weight crashes into me and my hands come up between us to keep him from crushing me. They land gently over his pecs and I can feel the cold bite of his steel nipple rings at my palms.

  Realization dawns on me that I'm touching him and I gasp starting to panic. I jerk my hands down to my sides, accidentally scraping them into the ground.

  A big, warm hand finds mine, covering it and bringing it back to his pec. Still on top of me with his weight resting on his other arm, he then grabs my other hand and brings it back to his other pec.

  My eyes shut of their own accord as I focus on the happy feeling that is overwhelming me.

  The warm body above me belongs to the one person I love and want so much in this world of absolute crap.

  And just when I thought it was out of reach for me I am able to grasp it again.

  Hope springs forth once again.

  I gently kiss the warm, tattooed shoulder hovering close to my face and yet one more time for good measure.

  His fangs slip out of my neck causing my skin to tingle and I shiver.

  Lips touch the dip in my neck and then the punctures that he made, before trailing softly up to my ear.

  "I do still want you, Alexia," he whispers softly into my ear. "I don't think that will ever stop." He laughs and if a laugh could sound sad, then this one would. "But you deserve so much better than me or anything I can give you."

  "No, that's not true." My lip wobbles. "It's not your fault what you have been through. It's not your fault what you are! You are a victim in this cruel world just like me and I love you!" Tears burst from my eyes as a sob bursts from my mouth.

  "Wow, okay. I'm just going to go look for everyone else," Jezebel proclaims reminding me that she was still here.

  "I love you, I love you, I love you!" I yell brokenly.

  His eyes hold mine and an unknown expression crosses his face. It was gone before I could read anything into it.

  I grab his head in a moment of panic, waning him to remember what I remember when we kiss. Wanting to show him that I am not crazy, that there is an unimaginable spark between us.

  I force my lips to his and kiss him with everything I have. Every tear, every heartache, every ounce of love, and courage, and hope that I ever had or will have.

  His lips don't even twitch. And
they don't kiss me back.

  I let go of him, keeping my eyes shut really tightly, not willing to see the look of pity on his face.

  "Why can't you love me back?" I whisper, voice cracking on a sob.

  He hangs his head so I can't see his face. His black hair is shiny in the dark somehow and I laugh about that.

  I must be going crazy.

  "Jezebel's pregnant."

  My laughter slowly fades and I let it sink in. It's not even all that hard to except really.

  It was one of those things I was desperately not wanting to happen so I sort of thought it would.

  I respond in a deadpan voice, "Oh really?"

  "I was so wrong." He sounds so desperate. "I don't know why I can't smell it in her blood. But I tasted it."

  I try to speak but my voice shakes too much trying to hold back my breakdown.

  Despite that fact thoughts well up to the brink of my insanity and I have to get it off my chest anyways.

  "You're breaking my heart!" My voice is thick with sobs and tears, wavering on every word.

  "I know, Sweetling. I know. I'm so sorry."

  With what pride I have left, I stand up shakily, pick my broken heart up off of the ground, and dust off my backside.

  "I just don't know how you expect me to sit back and watch you love her now. I'm not that strong."

  His expression transforms from confusion to disgust. "I will never love her, Alexia. I don't even know how you could think that. I will take care of her and my child. I will have to feed her my blood when the time comes, but…no, I will never love again."

  Biting my lip to dull the pain in my heart I subtly shake my head digesting all of his words.

  He made it clear that he will never love again. That includes me.

  Was it so bad the first time?

  My gods, what happened to him?

  The image of him feeding her his blood and comforting her and his child…her child fills my blood with hate and my mind with rage.

  "I will kill her then," I offer.

  His eyes flash. "I know you're upset, Alexia, but you had better watch what you say." He points a finger at me. "Do not make me choose between my family," he points to her, "and my…my…the girl I used to love. Because I will protect you both, Alexia, but if either one of your safety becomes threatened by the other and I have to choose," he shakes his head staring at the ground. "You won't like the outcome."