CHAPTER TWO

Hours later, she woke in a shadowed room. Grit and dried blood covered her hair, her clothes, her skin. Always fastidious, she was disgusted. She rolled away from Michael's softly snoring form and sat up. Whose house was this place? Would they be found here? How much time did they have?

She leaned down and smoothed Michael's hair from his eyes. It was as stiff with gore as hers. He sighed deeply but did not wake. She traced a faint scar down one temple and contemplated this man. He had saved her life and she his. Together, they had slain immortals none upon the face of the earth had dared raise a hand against. Yet, he was an innocent and his vulnerability both moved and deeply frustrated her. Was he now her harbor or a stone about her neck? Her very blood beat in his veins and this troubled her. Just what did this mean? What was this man to her now?

More importantly, what did she mean to him? She had seen horror in his eyes as she had revealed her vampire nature. He had been equally horrified by his own lycan transformation. Would he grow to blame her that he now carried the vampire virus much as he blamed Lucian for hunting him down and deliberately infecting him with the lycan strain? Monster or no, he was now bound to her. She did not know the depth or strength of this bond.

He sighed again and his eyelids fluttered. Abruptly they snapped open. For a moment, he had thought he had slept through his shift. He was sure he had heard his name being paged. But no…that was a lifetime ago. He knew he would never again practice the art of healing. Not as a mortal, not ever again. He turned his head to see Selene coolly appraising him.

"What is it?" He asked, afraid of the answer.

"Whose house is this?" She demanded.

He frowned and sat up beside her. "How about, 'thanks for bringing me here?' "

"Is this yours? Because if it is, they'll trace us. We have to leave." She started to rise and he reached out and caught her arm. It was akin to catching hold of an iron bar. She pulled back and he tightened his grip. Surprise flared in both of their faces. She was implacable as a mountain, and yet, he was equal to her strength. Elated, he reached up with his free hand and took her other arm. She had strength, yes, but he discovered his own was equal, if not greater.

"Sit down," he urged. "Listen to me." Light burned in his eyes.

She opened her mouth to protest and he shook his head. "No one will find us here. Not for awhile anyway. This is my cousin's house."

"Cousin? You were raised here? I thought you were an American."

"Is it my accent?" He smiled. "You Europeans think you know everything. Ez tipikus. Nem kis meglepetésére." His smile vanished and he said softly, "I'm as Hungarian as you are. I just didn't grow up here."

"Then where is your family?" She demanded. "They have to be protected now. You do realize this?"

"My cousin and I are all there is," he said, softer still. He didn't elaborate and she didn't pursue. Why was he still so, so…human? She had shed her human identity without a backward glance and never lamented its loss. Did he not realize the enormity of the danger they now faced? Irritated, she realized yet again that he had not spent his life dispensing torture and death, night after night. No, his existence had been blissfully free of such brutality.

"Is your cousin a Corvin?"

"No, so don't get any elaborate ideas."

"Michael, the lycans..."

"No!" He leapt from the bed and stood over her. "No! Listen to me! I'm sick unto death of vampires and lycans. I don't want to hear about any war or how there is no going back! OK? I'm going to lie down and close my eyes and I don't want to hear about all the ways we are being hunted right now."

"I'm sorry. I really am. I know this must be hard for you, but..."

"Fuck!" The fear, the pain, the confusion of the past four days washed over him. "Fuck! I did NOT ask for this! I don't even know how to wrap my head around it. Christ, Selene! This is all something out of a really crappy comic book!" He flung himself down onto the bed, breath thundering through his clenched teeth.

"Can I ask you something?" Selene interrupted in her clipped, precise way.

"WHAT?"

"What exactly is a comic book?"

That brought him up short. Something so mundane, so normal about his childhood…and she had no idea what he was talking about. He felt like crawling out of his skin, just to find a way back to the life he had been ripped from. He wanted to smash something to bits. He wanted to hurt her as much as he was hurting. He was insanely angry, but about to burst into laughter. So he reacted the only way he knew wouldn't leave irreparable damage to his cousin's furniture: He reached up and pulled Selene down against him. He wrapped his arms about her and grumbled into her ear, "Stop worrying for five minutes. I can't take it anymore."

They lay pressed together, breathing heavily. Michael shifted and felt dirt grind into his skin. His clothes smelled like a slaughterhouse. He wrinkled his nose and his anger slowly drained away. He had more immediate concerns. "Selene," he whispered into her hair. "Let's find something clean to wear. I'll take the downstairs shower and you can have the one up here." He sat up but then stopped at her intake of breath. "What is it?"

She wouldn't look at him. Her eyes darted away in shame. "Don't leave," she said in a low voice.

"I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to be afraid." It was startling to know that a woman who had seen more carnage than he could begin to fathom, and had been the cause of most of it, could have any shred of uncertainty left in her being. "Hey, it's OK," he tried to assure her.

She hung her head and her hands slowly closed into fists. He sat still, watching her. "Hey," he said again. "Look at me. I'm sure two people can fit in the bathroom. What do you think?" He carefully tempered his voice as if he were addressing someone it was his job to stitch back together. Images of long hours at Ste. István rose in his mind but he pushed them down. He would mourn his mortality another time.

"I'm being stupid." Selene said in a flat voice. "Just show me where it is."

He smiled again. "What if I'm the one who is afraid?" He held out his hand. "Come on, keep me company."