Happy holidays, readers. I'm sorry for the wait, I haven't forgotten. I would think of plots while trying to go to sleep because life was so swamped-but you guys don't care. Sorry. Right, so if you haven't read Kelley Armstrong's Dangerous, a short story about Derek and Simon before Lyle House, I highly recommend you do so here: . /2013/05/darkest_powers_bonus_pack_armstrong_ or not, message me if interested and I'll send it to you.
"Chloe, listen to me," It's not his words that stop me but the strain in his voice and the painful force of his hands as he hold my hips to the tree. "They found us because of my change, Chloe. I couldn't bear if you were to be hurt because of me-"
I kiss him, abruptly cutting him off. And it's as if he done this for years as he pulls me against him, but breaks away too soon, his finger curling into fists with the absence of my hips. He turns to the wolf, that approaches far too quickly, and morphs into wolf mid-lunge. He no longer needs me to help him through the changes that have become all but instant, but he wants me to be there. I once pretended I didn't understand why the thought stirred such furious emotions.
Derek runs to the other wolf, easily cutting off hundreds of meters to prevent the other wolf from approaching the cars, from approaching me. He comes a stop too close for comfort in front of the wolf, who has a coat the color of diluted mud. They begin to circle one another, waiting for the other to make the first move. There is no comfort, my skin burns yet my body trembles behind the confines of the tree.
"The best defense is a good offense," Kit constantly told him. "You don't waste your strength defending." Derek leaps at the wolf, catching him by the shoulders and pushes him down. But the haste movements of the wolf convey a practiced skill that Derek's ragged attacks lack. Without hesitation there is nothing to make him falter, and how I wish he would.
Derek towers over the other wolf, at an advantage seemingly, but the other wolf goes for his neck. Derek blocks swiftly, unfazed and yet I shake.
A fuse lights through Derek and he growls, gaining height and clawing the other wolf across the neck. The mutt bleeds and falters, losing his step in poor footing. My heart jumps to my throat and the night lightens around them.
The mutt growls in what I assume is defeat as Derek bends him at the waist. But it isn't defeat but defense as he kicks the snow out from Derek's feet. Derek falls on his back in the snow and the mutt traps him from above. I muffle a scream with my finger and search in vain for a corpse under the barren snow. I sense nothing, there is nothing. The wolf inhumanly chuckles in a frighteningly human manner. He cuts Derek's shoulder seeking a reaction. Derek gives him none as his blood spills across the white snow. The mutt growls and cuts his stomach, gaining not satisfaction but anger as Derek stays silent beneath him.
"Derek!" I scream as his claws come up again. This stops him for a moment as his eyes lock with mine, Derek takes the opportunity and cuts him, however shallow, across the ribs. The wolf roars and slashes his claws across Derek's chest. His blood stains the snow red, too widely, too deep. Despite the void, I search for something, anything, as if will alone can raise physicality out of nothing. I find a presence tethering between life and death. A dark, heavy presence. Derek.
Against conventional wisdom, pure fear is not paralyzing but restless. It's blinding, deafening, and unthinking. I don't think as I run to him. With dread I note the two wolves racing to him with me, one with a dark coat and black eyes, the other with a brown coat and green eyes. The dark one nods to me and the spark in her eyes is a painful relief. Mark and Elle reach Derek and the mutt before me and circle them. The mutt growls at them and hunches low over an unconscious Derek. They run around them, slowly approaching in from both sides, Mark feigns a lunge and the other wolf runs opposite to Elle, disappearing into the woods.
I run to Derek, legs giving in when I reach him. He bleeds uncontrollably, despite the cold that should restrict the blood, despite my hands that press against his wounds.
"Get Kit and Lauren!" I cry, stripping off my sweater and hold it against the cuts. Elle runs towards the cars as fast as she can yet not fast enough.
"How do I stop his blood?" I ask frantically. Mark grunts, which I've come to realize is equivalent to a useless shrug.
Cold constricts the veins. I pile ice over the sweater at his chest, in vain it begins to melt.
Human Elle runs back with spare clothes, followed by Simon and Kit. I brush away my tears. Kit yells, "How many wounds?"
"Three. Shoulder, c-chest, and abdomen." I voice weakly. Kit presses his hand against his neck, panic rises. But Kit changes him back to human form, not a test of his pulse. Simon puts pants on him as Lauren begins to wipe his wounds. Tori looms over them, pale.
"He'll be alright Chloe." I hear Tori say through the drums in my ears. Lauren wraps his chest and begins his stomach. I pat his cheek, "Please wake," I whisper. But my words don't reach him.
I slap him, tears slipping again. It isn't of use."Wait Chloe," Lauren says, "He just lost blood and is in shock from the pain."
When he's bandaged and dressed, human Mark and Simon take him on their shoulders and drag him to the car.
He was leading the other wolf away from me, a voice internally screams. I pick up a ball of snow and throw it at his face, staining it with color that his blood could not supply.
"Chloe!" Simon exclaims.
"I-I thought it might rouse him." I justify idiotically. And it does wake him a moment later.
Derek stands on his feet and Mark and Simon let him go. I close the space between us, wrapping my arms around his neck, avoiding his shoulder. His encircle my waist, lips finding home at the hollow of my collar. The icy air finds its path to my lungs, this leaden denseness lifts as he whispers words of comfort that are the only sound my ears hear. I realize I'm shaking only after his hands steady my shuddering back.
Someone clears their throat. I let him go. But he refuses to let go of me, so his arm stays around my shoulders.
Elle laughs, relieved. "Did you honestly think we wouldn't hear you leave?"
"It's a good thing you did," Derek says, his dark voice feigning lightness. I swallow the block in my throat.
"Are you alright, bud? How are your ribs?" Kit asks, walking effortlessly backwards in the consuming snow as he speaks to Derek.
"All good, maybe bruised." He says. I press my hand against his chest, he covers it with his own. His arm wraps around my shoulder, and as light as it may be, the weight he can't carry falls on me.
"We just have to be more careful from now on," Kit says with a sigh of relief. Everyone is too haunted say more.
Mark opens the door for Derek. I turn to Lauren, "I'm going to stay with him." stating rather than asking. She can only nod, lacking the coherence to form words.
I slip into Kit's car, taking the seat behind Simon. The dashboard's clock reads half past two but I know I won't sleep tonight. Derek rigidly crouches into the car, his expression morphing into a gentle smile to hide the pain.
"I'm fine," he assures. I must have been staring. Yet I can't look away, he takes my hand and twines his fingers through mine, as if in confirmation of his statement. I grasp his tighter. Kit starts the car and we are on the run again.
With panic thinly masked as composure, he drives onto the snowed in road. It isn't long before his poise slips and he slams down on the accelerator. Outside, there is nothing but dark whiteness. White that leaves no distinction of where the ground ends and the sky begins. Cabal continues to search for us and is frighteningly close. That wolf must have been with them and can't be far behind. They must be following us right now, at this very moment, alone on this road without civilization for miles. They'll take us back into their houses and drug us and prick us and—Derek winds his arm tighter around my shoulders and presses his lips against my head.
"You should sleep"
"You were dead!" I scream, careless to sleeping Mark and Simon. "I sensed you!"
I cry against him, sobs muffled by his hurt shoulder. He strokes my back and my head grows heavy on his shoulder. I close my eyes.
I open my eyes to light and the beautiful sound of traffic. I hear Simon, Mark, and Tori outside. Kit snores, hunched over the wheel and Derek's asleep beside me. It's 8:30, I peel away from him and head outside. Simon and Mark set up a picnic table and Tori sneaks breakfast from a bag.
"Good morning, Chloe" Mark says without looking up. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," I take the bag from Tori and set the food on the table. How can he not hear her eating all our food? I catch my reflection in Lauren's windows and run my hands though my ragged hair. Did I pack my comb?
"Where are we?" I look at the farmer's market across the street and am hit with a sharp pang for home. There is nothing left at home but a house, a house that may have never been home. How many subjects can we help until we have to burrow away in another house in another town in fearful hope that this time they won't find us? I shake my head, not the time.
"Missoula, Montana the city that's the 'Chamber of Commerce'" Simon says, the smile he usually wears replaced with weariness. "How's Derek?"
"He's good," I sigh. "I think he's going to be alright."
I wake Lauren, Elle, and Scott for breakfast and take a coat from my luggage. Elle snorts when she sees our table, "Who's brilliant idea was it to have potato salad for breakfast?"
"It was either this or colorful, overpriced bell peppers, Elle" Mark says, tone sharp. Simon walks back with Derek and Kit and sits across from Tori, and I'm certain I don't imagine the disappointment on Mark's face. Derek sits beside me and I want to hug him and bury my face in his neck and look at his wounds. But I maintain the short distance he set and ask the question everyone's been avoiding. "What's the plan for today?"
"I want to reach Dickinson, North Dakota by tonight." He pauses to gage our reaction. Scott isn't pleased. "We can do it if we take the interstate and only minimal stops."
Heavy silence follows as we eat, unwilling to waste time to speak. We head to the public restrooms before returning to our cars. I reach over and blast the radiator on high. I slip my bare feet under Derek's legs and lean back against the door.
Somehow, I must have fallen asleep because when I open my eyes again the clock reads 3:52 pm. Outside, there is no longer snow and people but ice and emptiness. Kit refused to use a GPS and so he marks our progress with a marker on a map. We're maybe three quarters into Montana and he promised we'd rent a room once we reached Minnesota. The state never sounded so exciting.
Derek's asleep, his brow furrowed with closed eyes twitching. I debate whether to wake him when everyone but Kit sleeps. I reach for his right arm and draw his sleeve up to examine his gash. Before I so much as lift his sleeve, he wakes to crush my hand in a vise grip. In the quietest way I know to calm him, I kiss him, the slip of our lips too loud in the silent car. As if by instinct, he pulls me to him by the waist before noting the others. I break away reluctantly and take his arm. His stare scalds me as I push his sleeve up to reveal the knife's gash that's healed to a shallow cut.
I meet his fiery gaze, "So the cat got you, huh?"
The tension breaks when he chuckles, his rumbles waking Mark. I rest my head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around mine. "What's square but moves in a circle while staying in one corner?" I ask them, bored to mindlessness.
"A stamp. What a poor riddle." Mark grunts, half asleep.
"The adhesive on stamps is used in bubblegum." Derek says, absently tracing circles on my arm. Conversation and light contact becomes a distraction of the danger that this trip surely promises. He can sense my anxiety when we stop to load on gas, not at a gas station but directly on the road. We're in such a deserted area that Kit and Lauren don't even bother pulling over.
Before I step out of the car, Derek grabs my hand and pulls me inside. One hand finds my waist, the other my head. He crushes his lips against mine with unrestraint eagerness, with intensity I fervidly meet. I throw my arms around his neck, sliding my body above his. He groans and pushes me down against the seat. The pounding of my pulse in my head drives out every worry, every thought of danger. His lips and hands make me deaf, blind, and dumb to every notion other than him.
I throw my legs around his waist, his hands slide over my bottom to the back of my legs. His arousal is stone hard as he presses it against me. I break away and sit up, faint as he smoothes down my hair. He takes my hand and kisses it, his eyes overwhelming in their emotion. I don't know how I could have doubted his feelings toward me.
"Derek, I-"
Elle knocks on the window, "You guys should come see this!"
I'm thankful for the condensation as we separate. Elle opens the door and quickly steps back, "Ahem...sorry." A fleeting expression of pain crosses her eyes, before she sarcastically retorts, "Couldn't wait for Minnesota?"
There's blood. So much blood. The body of a girl lies on the frozen ground, a gash that once bled cut under her rib. Her arms are sprawled away from her body as if she fought before she was cut. Her eyes are wide open in shock, her mouth parted in a scream. She sits next to her body watching us, eyes red with tears.
Lauren crotches in front of the body, her fingers to the girls wrist. As if needing to confirm the obvious, "She's —"
"Dead," I finish. I take off my pendant. "Hello there. I can see you."
She looks up at me with fresh tears. The ghost stands and runs to me, 11 years old at most.
"They promised to help me control it!" She shrills frantically. "There were so many of them! They sensed me and came asking for help. I couldn't help them! I was so weak! They came and told me they could help me stop seeing them. They only made it worse!"
By reflex I reach for her shoulder but skim past her presence into air. "How can I help you?" My voice shakes.
She shakes her head. "You can't. They're looking for necromancers, you need to keep away from them. They have so many of us. They're going to use us somehow. I don't know how or what but they have plans."
"Chloe?" Tori grabs my arm as if to shake me out of a trance.
"The girl is here," Kit answers. Lauren closes her eyes and moves away from the body.
"How did you end up here?" I ask her. Her eyes fill with tears, I know only to offer my hand which she takes despite the lack of sense.
"I was with my sister driving west when they found us. They sent werewolves after us, they slit our tires-" she chokes on her laughter, shaking her head. "Clever. I fought them by calling a demon, they knew I was the stronger one. So they killed me. They took my sister!"
"Where did they take her?" She's maybe a few inches shorter than I am but I bend to her level in hope she'll trust me.
She shakes her head, tears slipping past her eyes. "I don't know..." She looks at me, her hopelessness bringing tears to my eyes.
"Anything will help dear." I prompt her as gently as I can. "Do you remember where you escaped from? The city? The building?"
"I don't know!" She wildly stares at Tori beside me then the rest of us. "Oh! I bought a soda at a gas station outside the city we left. The receipt should be in my coat."
"Great!" I crouch by her body and carefully go through her pockets. I find a crumple of paper in her inner pocket and eagerly unravel it."Chicago. They have a base in Chicago."
She looks at me as if waiting for an explanation."You made it all the way past North Dakota from Chicago. Where did you come from?"
"We grew up in Pennsylvania, my sister and I" She answers.
I nod. "You're help is indispensible, we'd be driving aimless had it not been for you. We promise to try to rescue your sister. Thank you."
At this point I don't know what to do. It feels wrong to leave her body on the side of the road like this. I press her mouth closed and step back, refusing to let the tears fall. This isn't her fault; she shouldn't have ended up like this. I take my scarf off and wrap it around her waist, covering her wound.
She isn't there when I look back up.
"She and her sister ran away from Chicago, they almost escaped but the wolves found them. The same wolves I suspect found us, as they were going west. They took her sister and—" My voice catches. Derek places his hand on the small of my back, willing me forward."And they killed her because she was a threat to them. I think we should start in Chicago, I have the address of a gas station near their quarters."
They're reactions range from tiredness to fear. I feel nothing but emptiness. I lean against Derek, thankful for the strength of his arms.
The sky grows dark with every passing moment, what little warmth there was escaping with light. We return to our cars once again, which begin to feel more like protective cages.
Kit drives into North Dakota as planned and couldn't have turned off the engine faster the moment we park. Everyone sleeps but Derek and I. He tells me he's awake by the occasional tap on my arm.
"What more did she say?" I'm not certain how he knows I'm not asleep.
"They're looking for necromancers" I whisper. His fingers still, his body stiffening next to mine.
"I won't let them take you," He murmurs into my hair. His arm tightens around me.
"I don't doubt you," I press my lips against his collar. "I'm just afraid of what they're planning to do with us. I mean, all we can do is raise the dead. They aren't intelligent, only zombies."
"We'll figure this out," He pauses, struggling for the right words. "This - What we're doing is better than hiding and constantly fearing our safety."
He's right of course. There's only so many months we can hide under this thin blanket of security before its thread unravels and we're left bare to face danger.
I nod, "You must admit," I tease to lighten the mood. "It was funny when you freaked out about Mark's, Elle's, and Scott's arrival."
"It was not." He says without a trace of humor, I laugh despite his hardness. I twist in his arms and kiss him. He leans forward as I pull back, only to growl at the loss of contact. I drop my head on his shoulder, under his chin, and let my eyes drop close.
Tori wakes us far too early the next day to ensure we reach Minnesota. "I will sleep in a bed tonight," she does not state but demands. I decide to make the commute more bearable for them. Simon and I toss potato chips at Mark and Derek, their attempts to catch leaving mountains of dust in Kit's seats when we get up. As we drive through a city, we wave to passer-bys. The ones who wave back are deemed "sweet", the ones that scowl and turn away "sour". We're flicked off more than a couple times. Kit tells us stories about Derek and Simon growing up, about Simon's outgoingness and Derek as an outcast. I take his hand.
High school went well for Simon, he had all the girls, was with the jocks and on a team, the popular guy. It was a different story for Derek. He was "Simon's jerk brother" who people feared because of his size, the "bully" that never terrorized anyone. They had to leave the school because Derek paralyzed someone for threatening Simon with a knife. A monster he was called.
"I can't believe that idiot's brother was my best friend." Simon mutters, eyes hard as he stares from me to Mark. "They came to my court and wanted both the court and my ball. Hell! Maybe I was supposed to be like 'Sure, you can have my court, here take my ball too.' But I didn't and Derek did the right thing. Got shit for it though."
"I paralyzed him..." Derek murmurs quietly, as if he's speaking to himself. "He'll never walk again"
"And never hurt anyone again." Kit says.
"That idiot deserved it!" Simon says. He believes what he's saying but he's so forward about it for Derek's benefit.
"But I should have known..." Derek pauses, quickly sweeping his hands through his hair. "I — forget it"
"What was that bud?" Kit glances back in the rearview mirror
"Wasn't important." I flinch at his tone. I can almost hear the hammers that add height to his walls.
"I think it was."
Deafening silence.
"I think we passed the Minnesota border," Mark breaks the quietness. "Be ready to pull over the moment I shout 'Hotel!'"
I offer him a smile; I can't seem to make it touch my eyes.
Tori runs to the lobby before we've even set foot on the ground. It's a worn down place but I couldn't care less. She flirts with a guy behind the registration desk, slapping his arm and complaining about how badly she needs a shower. His eyes rake up her body, stopping momentarily at her low cut top before smiling coyly and promising he can help. Mark's hands curl to fists as he patiently listens to Scott demand his own room. Simon rambles something to Elle. I join them, as Derek, who pretends to read a plaque about the town's history, seems to want to be left alone.
"It's alright, Chloe." Simon throws his arm around my neck. "He has his days."
I nod. You can't help him with this, I tell myself.
"We'll stay for 2 nights," Kit says, smiling as he dares us to object. He rented one unit with two bedrooms. The biggest unit they had. It's stupid, the nostalgia, yes but there's a fireplace against the main wall. I look for a switch but find only a poker and matches. Smiling, I light the kindle.
We collapse, on the couches, the beds, the floor. Lauren retires to a room she decides is for the girls. Scott grumbles and leaves to the other room, where I can imagine he takes the biggest bed. Kit takes Mark, Elle, and Simon to bring up the luggage so he can move the cars away from the hotel. They remember our cars, and if they're in town then... I try to push the thoughts away.
Fear controls my thoughts. I go to lock the doors, using both chain and deadbolt. I turn on the television for distraction. Derek doesn't sit next to me, I don't bother looking for him. I know he's out somewhere, hurting himself over his guilt.
Skittish, I jump when someone knocks at the door. Tori laughs and gestures at the door, "It's just them. We're safe, you don't have to freak out over everything." I glare at her but still check the peephole before opening the door. Mark, Elle, and Simon drop the bags on the floor and walk into the room. Only, they're stopped with what looks to be a wall where no wall is.
"What the fuck?" Elle presses her hand against the invisible surface that blocks her way. Tori smiles, hand held up in a stop gesture. "See, we're safe."
"H-H-How did you learn that?" I stutter stupidly.
"I have my ways," she says slyly.
"Teach me!" Simon punches the force only to bruise his knuckles. I don't know if he does it to humor us, but we all laugh and the tension eases.
We watch 3 episodes of a horrible comedy series before there's a quiet, hesitant knock at the door. My heart picks up. Derek.
"Hey, bro" Simon greets him. He replies with a grunt. With hesitancy that wrings my lungs of air, he sits next to me. I stare at him as he watches the television, I know he sees me looking at him. I turn away.
His fists open and he turns his hand up, fingers opening. He doesn't know what to do, what to say. I take his hand, lacing my fingers with his. He squeezes tightly, a sigh as an exhale.
That night I stay awake, I don't know why. Maybe I want him to come and invite me to lay with him. Maybe I want him to come and accept my offer to talk about the things that bother him. Maybe I'm just not tired.
My heart slams against my chest when he opens the door and calls my name.
"Chloe..." He pauses, aware I'm awake. "Chloe."
I turn to the door where he stands and pause, noting the way his extended hand drops.
This isn't what I intended, I don't want to hurt him more than he is. I step out of bed quietly by my standards. Probably woke Elle. He watches me approach him, gaze too heavy. I feel my cheeks flare.
I sit and find myself hoping he sits beside me. He doesn't.
Feigning interest in the fire, I watch the flames dance so I won't have to meet his gaze. I don't know what to say to bridge this gap. Don't know what to do to wake him out of his haze.
"I should have known my strength. I shouldn't have thrown him so hard." Derek says so quietly I'd suspect he was talking to himself if he wasn't looking at me. "I didn't think when I threw him, I just had to protect Simon-"
He makes a choking noise, "I've hurt so many people." His tone kills me, I meet his desperate eyes. "I think it's this guilt that eats away at me, that feels like a second skin I can't escape. I try to drive it away! I try but it only comes back and—"
He grips his hair, a brilliant sparkle of madness burning in his eyes. This madness is the result of burying everything beneath his coldness. Where fire burns he smothers it with ice.
"Why did you hurt people?" I need him to see not just the what but the why. I meet his unstable gaze with my steady eyes, willing him to come to an answer. He stares back, hands outstretching, fingers clenching. I don't move.
"To protect you all." He says through clenched teeth. Had I not known him better, I would have run away by now.
"Why do you feel guilty about that?" I ask him, harsher than necessary. "If you didn't hurt them, they would have hurt us. You know they don't stop with just defense, the only thing that stops them is a counter force. You were that force. I would have died so many times had it not been for your strength."
It hurts him, these memories. But it's okay, I'm used to it, he tells himself. He reaches for me, desperate in his movements. He crushes me to him, gasping as his arms wrap around my back with fingers that dig into my sides. My arms take to his neck, my legs wrap around his waist.
He falls apart. I stroke his hair and rock him as hot tears fall down my neck. He's silent, save the chokes out of his control and the thunder of his heart. His pulse jumps beneath my lips, alive and furious. You can't fix something that isn't broken, or in his case something that hides its cracks. If he lets me now that he's revealed the damage, I'll try to fix him. I'll do all I can to salvage the splintered pieces.
"Do you want some hot chocolate? Tea?" I ask him once he stops shaking. His grips tightens around me, wrenching the air of my lungs. He croaks, "No."
"Alright." I rest against him, silence enveloping us.
"I hurt you. When I'm upset I push people away so I won't have to face what I'm feeling."
"It's alright, Derek—"
"I would tell you off and push you away because I was afraid of what I felt for you. You made me feel things I thought I wasn't capable of feeling, fuck—" He gently bites my collar, I think to hide a sob. "That scared me."
"I'm glad I didn't give up, then." I say softly against his shoulder.
"Me too" He whispers.
Derek leans back against the couch without shifting positions. More content in his arms than in any bed, I close my eyes and fall into exhausted sleep.
Ha, were you expecting a lemon? I promise one next chapter.