As a reward for holding on and reading this far, you are presented with ROMANCE. Yes, you heard me, romance. You'll have to keep reading to see...
Disclaimer - No one cares, GO! Read!
Chapter Seven
Despite how much my brain screamed and yelled and kicked at the rest of me, I just couldn't make myself go to sleep. It occurred to me that I hadn't actually slept – unconsciousness didn't count – since the army of vampires had broken into my house and killed my family. I did manage to keep my eyes closed for a few hours, though, which helped a little. I just lay there and concentrated on my breathing and nothing else, just like Ian had taught me. I blocked out the world and everything in it. Including my aching limbs that I was too scared to move in case they decided to turn on me again; and the occasional rustle of a shifting dhampir; and the memories of fiery pain and throat-wrenching screams; and the fact that I was now the only family that Zeno had left; that he was the only family that I had left. Everything was just so miserable, and that wasn't my style. I could be a bit of a cynic sometimes, sure, but I wasn't going to look at a butterfly and say "With colours like that, a cat's sure to find you somewhere."
Finally, I managed to actually stop thinking about everything at once. I lay perfectly still and just breathed – in, out, in, out… and repeat.
When Ian had started the exercises I had been a wriggling mass of impatience. He'd told me he'd teach me how to use my assets in a fight and to "stay calm in a chaotic environment." The last thing I'd thought that had meant was sitting and breathing.
"This is ridiculous."
"It's not. If you'd just–"
"It is. And you said you'd teach me how to fight. No one said anything about meditating."
"What happens when you panic, Mi?"
I sighed and rolled my eyes behind my closed lids. "You… lose focus." I took a wild stab in the dark.
"And what happens when you lose focus, Mi?"
Ugh. It was going to be one of those lectures. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me, oh Great Wise One?"
"Don't get smart. Think," he replied firmly.
I sighed again and just sat there. I figured if I waited long enough he'd either tell me or get bored and let me go, but when it became obvious that I wasn't going to get my way, I actually thought about it. "You don't try so hard?" It came out as a question.
I could hear the smile in his voice. "And what happens when you don't try, Mi?"
I sighed, yet again, and shook my head, finally realising what he was getting at. "You don't get what you want."
"And what is it that you want in a fight, Mi?"
"To win."
"To live. If you lose it for one second in a fight, then you're finished. One second is all it takes for the opposition to kill you, Miami. I don't intend to lose a pack member because she freaks out and can't concentrate in a messy situation." His voice was calm and level, but I could feel the impact in the statement like heavy, muggy, water-filled heat clouds. "Before you learn to fight, you need to know that you'll be able to remember what you've learnt. That you're not going to take one look at the bigger, stronger enemy and lose control of the situation. You need to know that you can hold your own when you need to."
"So breathing is going to help with that?" I didn't bother hide the sarcasm in my voice.
"Yes."
I waited for him to bestow some more of his infinite wisdom upon me, but got nothing but nothing. After a few uncomfortable, fidget-filled minutes, I sighed. "Are we done yet?"
"No."
"How about now?"
There was an unmistakable smile in his voice. "No."
"But I'm hungry."
"Miami…"
"Mi… Miami, wake up. Yoo-hoo…"
I rolled onto my back, almost falling off the bed, and threw my arm over my face, blocking out the harsh light that managed to penetrate my eyelids. "Mmawanna…" I grumbled.
"Wake up. They brought food," the insistent voice boomed in my head.
"Nuffamuckay."
Hands gripped my shoulders and shook in what I'm sure was supposed to be a gentle manner, but ended up almost dislodging my head and wrenching another disgruntled groan from the back of my throat. "Maa…"
"Wake up!"
"What?" I forced my eyes to crack open, letting in tiny slits of burning, white light. My mouth felt wrong, like it was filled with cotton wool. It tasted bad too, but I won't describe it – for your stomach's sake. My head buzzed painfully, swarming with angry, territorial wasps. I'd felt something like this before, only I'd had a hell of a lot more fun getting this way last time.
"They finally brought some food," Zeno said, ignoring my ticked-off tone. He sounded a lot more excited than he had last night – or whatever time it had been. At least that was something. "It's nothing fancy, but it's still food."
That's the Zeno I know and love, I thought, sitting up gingerly. I put my head in my hands and scrunched my stinging eyes shut, my elbows digging into my knees. My stomach churned and twisted at the very thought of food, but I asked anyway, just to let him know I wasn't quite dead yet. "What is it?"
"Stake and vegetables." I smelt it just as he said it and I had to stop myself from doubling over and retching. "The vegetables are mushy and the stake's kinda rare, but at least it's cooked. You never know with suckers."
My lids were still blocking the light from my eyes and I didn't notice the plate coming at my face until it was right under my nose. The stench was overpowering and I yanked my head back, glaring at the muddle of food as if it had spat at me. Zeno's brows went up, small lines popping up on his forehead. I had to squint as the whiteness of the cell pierced my retinas. I wrinkled my nose. "You have it," I forced out, tying not to breathe too much.
Zeno frowned. "But–"
"Zen, trust me, if I eat that, it's just gonna come straight back out again. Just… take it. Please."
He shrugged and pulled the plastic plate away, emptying it onto his own, identical platter without any further encouragement – no self-respecting 'wolf was going to turn down a dish full of food, no matter how unattractive it may be.
There was silence as Zeno dug in. Well, no, not silence. In fact, the dull scrape of the plastic cutlery against the plate and even the chomping of his teeth beside me grated inside my ears, forcing my jaw to clench and my eyes to scrunch so hard they ached. My breathing whooshed in my head, unbearably raspy and loud. There was a mammoth clock somewhere out in the hall that battered against me, a relentless, staccato rhythm that made me want to be sick. I still couldn't make my eyes open to anything more than a painful squint and the smell of food mingled with the too-clean stench of the cells stung my nose and made me not want to breathe at all. I knew I shouldn't have been feeling like this, but I couldn't push my brain to think about it any further. I just had to get out.
I stood so fast I wobbled a bit and Zeno shot straight up to grab my arm, steadying me. "What? What's wrong?" His voice struck my skull and rebounded against its insides, frantic and worried.
"I'm fine," I rasped, the words fading away as soon as they came out of my mouth. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Zen, I'm fine. I just… I need air." I pulled my arm away and swayed slightly before setting off for the bars, placing my feet carefully and keeping my eyes fixed on a stable spot in front of me.
I managed to get to the bars and wrap my fingers around them before my legs gave out. I hit the floor hard and the impact sent wave of pain through my entire body, clicking my teeth together and pushing the air out of my lungs. I shook my head, trying to clear it.
"Mi?"
I tried to say I was alright, but he was yelling through the bars before I could make my mouth do anything more than open. I wasn't alright, of course, but I didn't need him knowing that.
The hall became a blur of frantic, confused movement and, before I could tell anyone to calm down and just get me some water and an aspirin, guardian Kedrov was kneeling beside me. His eyes were lighter, sharper, than usual and, as I peered closer, I noticed little blue flecks that I hadn't seen before. They shimmered slightly in the white light of the cells, like tiny little shards of glass. I could see every unshaven hair on his jaw – five o'clock shadow was di-vine on him, by the way – and his hair looked plain confused, his emo bangs coming dangerously close to blinding him. He was in grey sweat pants and I could see some very nice muscles through his thrown-on T-shirt. They'd obviously dragged him out of bed and all the way down into the cells for me. I was struggling between feeling touched at the gesture and amused at how his face was going to look like when I told him all I wanted was a drink.
Zeno slid down the bars beside me, staring resolutely at his grimy, horribly bare feet, not quite sure what to do with himself now that help had arrived.
Anatolii dipped his heed and gave me a calm, calculating look, like he was trying to figure out what was wrong with me before he'd even asked.
"What's up, Doc?"
He gave a wry, slightly forced smile, one side of his lips tilting. I'd never noticed how pretty his lips were. They were the kind of lips that most girls would kill for – to have or kiss.
Holy what?
I tried to hide me disgust at myself as he replied. "Why don't you tell me?" he murmured, his voice incredibly soft and soothing. It was like honey to my throbbing head.
Still didn't mean he was getting anything out of me. "Now, where would be the fun in that?" I tried on a grin that I'm sure came out as a grimace.
I could see him restraining a sigh of annoyance as his eyes closed over a roll. He shook his head at me, an almost disappointed look on his flawless face. "What can I do to help, then?"
I was gearing up to ask for some very strong painkillers but decided on something even better. "Vodka wouldn't hurt. And none of that pansy crap, either."
There was a snort and a moment of silence before Anatolii glanced at one of the guardians beside him. He looked him up and down. "You heard the girl. There's a bottle behind the books on the top shelf of my bookcase," he said, flicking him a ring of keys. "Touch anything else and I'll have you teaching remedial maths to novices for the next few years." The guardian stared back, surprised, then bolted down the hall like the Russian had just threatened to kill him.
"Oooh, secret stash. Someone's been a naughty boy." I waggled my eyebrows weakly.
His smirk became mischievous, his eyes twinkling at me. "You should see the back of my pants draw," he chuckled evilly.
Okay, just for the record, I can't even remember the last time I blushed. I'm just not that kind of girl. But, pretty sure that there was no escaping the flush of heat by this point, I dropped my head, staring at the floor and huffing a near soundless laugh. Why couldn't I breathe? I had a scary, completely irrational feeling that it had nothing to do with the "hangover".
He mustn't have seen the colour creeping over my cheeks and he took my sudden breathlessness very seriously, his voice becoming all concerned again. I really couldn't figure this guy out. "What is it? Are you in pain?"
I shook my head, deciding against telling him I was just having a completely insane, totally inappropriate gushy, girly moment. What the heck was wrong with me? First I was having freaky-fast Phase symptoms and now I was… crushing on a dhampir?
No way. I am so not.
Was I?
Oh God.
Anatolii's voice pulled me away from my inner panic. "Is it happening again?" he asked softly.
I shook my head again, after a small, uncertain pause. I didn't know what was happening to me. I could've been pregnant for all I knew, though I highly doubted it. I wasn't that bad. I quickly blinked back the stinging in my eyes, but not before one solitary, frightened tear fell through my hair and made a small, barely noticeable blob on the concrete. I felt more than saw Anatolii freeze, and I didn't even bother trying to cover up the tiny act of weakness. I just hoped Zeno hadn't seen it.
The guardian reached out slowly, as if he were afraid that I might bite his hand off, leaning closer. My heart speed into over-drive and I thanked my unreliably lucky stars that I was probably the only person in the room with strong enough ears to hear it as it disobeyed every order my brain threw at it. Stop it. Just calm the hell down. It's not like he's going to kiss you.
Wait, was he?
Did I even want him too?
Jeez, talk about unstable hormones.
Achingly slow, his fingers passed through the bars, parting the broken, scraggly cascade of almost painfully unclean hair that hung in my face between us. I kept my eyes fixed on the tear-blob, avoiding his gaze, as I fought vainly for something resembling calm. In my state of complete and utter sensory overload I was totally at his mercy.
Still moving as if he were patting a wild animal, his hand grazed my skin, his thumb gently wiping away the tiny spot of moisture sitting on the top of my cheek bone, the tips of my eyelashes brushing his nail. I could feel every single millimetre of skin that was in contact with mine – my nerves were sparking and tingling manically. It's just the Phase,I kept telling myself silently. You can feel heartbeats and I'm pretty sure that 'mammoth clock' is a wrist watch. His hand could be a slug and you'd feel exactly the same. It's just the Phase.
I was pretty sure neither of us were breathing. His warm, calloused hand felt blessedly cool on my feverish skin and that's what got the shaking started. I didn't know what was happening, and it scared the shit out of me. I shouldn't have been having Phases this soon. Shouldn't have been able to hear the slightest movement of Zeno's toes; the blood rushing through every person in the room. I was having a major, full on freak-out and the person comforting me was a freaking half-sucker. My life couldn't get any more messed up.
"What's happening, Miami?" the aforementioned comforter said slowly, his accent becoming more and more pronounced as I struggled to silent the tremors shuddering through me. The harder I tried the more violent they got until I could barely think straight.
"I'm fine," I managed to gasp, my throat gagging on air and cutting the words to pieces. "I'm fine," I tried again with no better results.
Zeno's hand gripped my shoulder and Anatolii was now stroking my hair. I didn't pull away when his other hand wrapped around mine, still grasping one of the bars.
No one said anything until the vodka finally got there and I reached for it as if it would save my life – right then it really felt like it would. It was already open and I downed a small mouthful without thinking about it. It almost came straight back up again but I managed to hold on to whatever dignity I had left with a pained hiss and a grimace as the burning liquid slid down my throat. I gritted my teeth and set the flask down on the concrete, the alcohol sloshing with my jerky movements and the glass clinking sharply on the floor. I held on to it like a life raft.
"Hey, slow down. It's alright," Anatolii said gently, his right hand still tangled in my hair.
"Jes-s-sus," I stuttered, giving my head a quick shake and instantly regretting the action. "That's…" I looked up and swallowed again, grinning slightly, my eyes watering. "That's some good shit."
The guardian nodded and his lips twitched, but obviously he still thought I was going to die on him. Hey, I still might. "It's Russian."
I nodded back, panting a bit, and lifted the bottle back to my mouth. This time he reached for it too and guided it so that I didn't go drinking myself into a coma. After a few carefully moderated sips I realised that the trembling had dwindled down so that I could actually move without the fear of causing the whole building to cave in on me. The guardians still in the room were silent, doing what they did best, and I could no longer feel the vibrations of their heartbeats in the air. Everything felt dulled. Muted. Normal.
Anatolii's hand finally retreated from my hair and pulled back to grip the bar beside where mine rested. I tried not to look unhappy about the sudden absence of touch. I turned slightly to Zeno and smiled, my face tired and unresponsive. "I'm okay, Zen."
He looked blankly at me for a second then seemed to realise how tight his grip was on my shoulder. "Sorry," he whispered as he let go. I rolled it, trying to get the blood running through my arm again.
"S'okay. I'm good."
Anatolii sighed at that and I turned back to face him, glaring pointedly. "I'm good," I said through my teeth. The last thing I needed was Zeno worrying about me all over again.
He opened his mouth to snap back at me – not very comforter-like – but a sudden commotion cut him off. Raised voices bounced off the walls, coming from where I thought the exit was. Definitely an argument. Anatolii tilted is head back slightly, peering down the hall, but he didn't get up. Abruptly, there was silence. Then the echoing clack, clack, clack of hard shoe soles on even harder ground resounded down the hall towards us, soon followed by the graceful, towering figure of none other than Cowboy. My very own vampire stalker.
"What's going on?" he asked firmly but calmly, a teeny tiny undercurrent of unease slipping through his tone. His deep, almost black eyes darted around the room, scouring it for any and all possible threats. They locked on me. He frowned ever so slightly.
Anatolii sighed. "That's what I'd like to know," he replied, tilting his head at me. There was silence as they waited for me to fill them in. It grew longer. No one moved. Anatolii cocked an eyebrow. "Miami?"
I took another slow, careful swig of vodka, taking my time with swallowing. I took a long look at both guardians. "Yams don't agree with me." I shook my head slightly, pursing my lips in mock disappointment. "Little yellow bastards. Should I have put that on my check-in form?"
That was my I'm-mocking-you-because-I-am-trying-to-regain-what ever-sense-of-stability-I-had-before-the-world-ble w-up-in-my-face tone.
Aww, poor Miami. Why do I write such tragic characters? Don't worry, she gets badasser, you'll just have to wait :)
'Til next time xoxox
