After four exams and two presentations on microbiology and the various uses of flax, Marcy was perfectly happy to fry her brain with some Tales from the Crypt reruns from the eighties. It was nearing midnight when Peter showed up, but she wasn't about to move from her armchair, even when he did frown disapprovingly at her.
"This? This is what you've been doing with your days off? Binge eating and watching trash?"
Blue eyes narrowed at him in the dim light. Defensively, she clutched her bowl of mint chocolate ice cream to her chest. "I am not binge eating. I've got half a bowl and it's a classic." She picked up the stack of papers from the arm rest and dropped them on the table.
"Why didn't you tell me you were catatonic?"
Peter's head tilted as he approached, slowly and calmly. He picked up the pile with blank expression, his gaze flicking over the lavish cursive writing before he looked up at her. "My, my Marcella…you really have been busy, haven't you?"
"It's all there. The fire, the hospitalization…I even got some info on that nurse of yours."
"And what, exactly, is it that you planning on doing with this information, Miss Tucker?"
Marcy pursed her lips as she blinked in surprise. "I don't intend to do anything with it."
He arched a brow, the skin on his scarred face stretching to do so. "Is that right? Then why go through all the trouble?"
"Mostly curiosity." Marcy stood, set her bowl on the table and approached him. The Alpha didn't move. He peered down at her with blank features as she eyed his scars, her voice soft as she went on. "You didn't tell me about your family or the coma or that your niece was is missing…"
Peter felt his jaw clench. When his hand found her throat, she didn't fight him. Didn't squirm or whimper even as he slammed her down on the table. His eyes were a bright red in the low light as he snarled at her. "You meddling bitch."
Her yellow eyes shined back at him, fangs bared as her arms reached out. Her hands met his shoulders and she tugged him closer. With a growl, Peter slammed her back, hearing a satisfying crack of the wood beneath her skull before he dragged her forward to face him. Pain blossomed in her skull, making Marcy wince as his breath hit her cheek. Only inches apart, he glowered expectantly at her.
"I wasn't doing it to meddle." She spat at him, sending a splatter of blood from her mouth across his face. "I wasn't going to use it against you."
"Why should I believe you?"
"Because you know I can't lie." Marcy swallowed as best she could around the vicelike grip on her throat. "Not to you."
"No, you can't, can you?" With a satisfied grin, Peter let her fall back against the table. As she lay panting, he circled her. "Then why do it? Why seek me out at all?"
Marcy went to sit up, but a stern hand eased her back down. "Because I knew if I asked, you'd shut me out."
"Well, it is a sensitive subject, wouldn't you agree?"
"I wasn't trying to prod at old wounds." His Beta huffed as she wiped at her mouth. The chunk she had bitten out of her tongue had already healed, but the heavy taste of copper still lingered. "I was curious. I didn't want to hide it from you because I thought you'd get mad…apparently I would've been better off."
Sniffing the air, he smiled. There was a sizzle of annoyance, even some anger in her scent, but no deception. She pouted up at him; an expression that would make a lesser man drop to his knees to appease her every whim no doubt. He offered a hand. Marcy took it with a resentful sigh. The man eased her into a sitting position, brushing her long hair from her shoulders as he tilted her head back.
Peter watched the bruises that graced her neck heal. The dark purple fading to a sickly green in a matter of seconds before returning to creamy white. "You knew how I'd react didn't you?"
"I assumed." Marcy admitted with a nod.
"And you still told me." His gaze met hers, soft and warm; as though he hadn't just cracked her skull open on the coffee table.
The woman edged herself away from the table until she was pressed flush against her Alpha. "If you wanna do this, to get back at whoever did this," Her hand cupped the scarred side of his face almost tenderly, with just the faintest bite of her claws making it not so. "I have to know what you know."
Peter took her wrist and gave her fingers a lit nip with blunted teeth. Mouthing them, he swallowed as her scent became heady and sweet. "Now why is that?"
"Fresh eyes, for starters." Marcy ignored the heat that began to swell in her stomach as he licked at her finger tips, his fangs growing out to prick. As best she could, she shook the haze from her vision as she went on. "You're obviously bias. You might have missed-"
His teeth sunk into the digit. She winced.
"I'm just saying!" The woman snapped at him, wrenching her hand from him. "You go over the same thing enough times you get used to seeing it! You skip and skim and you can't see something that's right in front of you."
Peter frowned, ignoring the dribble of blood that trailed down his chin. His eyes swept over her form again and he licked his lips. "Oh, I see just fine, Marcella."
The young woman rolled her eyes. "Horny old bastard."
"Not that old." He smirked again, wider this time, making his scars pull painfully.
Marcy's brows furrowed but she said nothing. Instead, she went back over to her ice cream and dropped back down in her arm chair. Taking a bite of it, she directed her attention back to the television with a rebellious scowl.
Ignoring this, Peter asked, "I take it you're done with your exams than?"
"Yep."
He slipped over to her, standing behind the chair as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "So you're off for the summer?"
"Yep." The brunette repeated, licking a bit of ice cream off the back of the spoon. "I suppose you want to get started on the basics?"
With an amused chuckle, he looped a strand of her dark hair around his finger. He could smell it on her; a faint hint of arousal under her skin. Feeling his fangs grow, Peter brushed his nose along her pulse, inhaling the intoxicating scent as he spoke. "Oh I think we can do a little better than that."
Marcy's eyes fluttered closed. "Pete?"
"Mhm?" He nodded, trailing the tip of his tongue up to her jaw. A wicked smile crossed his lips as goose bumps broke out on her soft skin.
"Why do you think I'd let you fuck me after you bashed my head into the coffee table?"
"I didn't mean to…" Peter pressed a kiss to the top of her head before moving around to the front of the chair. She peered up at him expectantly, a devious smile on her lips as he crouched down to her level. With a burned hand, he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "But you did provoke me."
Marcy brushed his hand away. "Who're you, my abusive husband?"
"Why must you always resort to name calling?"
"You called me a meddling bitch not five minutes ago." She grinned impishly. With bright eyes, she took a bite of her ice cream. She settled deeper into her chair, her short legs tucked underneath her as she spoke. "I went over some of the legends too. Couldn't get through all of them, but…I still have some questions, if that's okay with you?"
"I suppose." Peter sighed, the action heavy with disappointment as he moved to sit on the arm of her chair. Extending the claw on his index finger, he scooped some of her ice cream out with it.
Marcy shifted to accommodate him, tilting the bowl in his direction. "You said there's no cure. But what about weaknesses? What about the Van Helsing principle?"
"The what principle?" The Alpha licked his claw.
"The Van Helsing principle." The younger woman repeated. She smirked at him. "It's a theory I have. If something supernatural exists, or is thought to exist, there will be fanatics out there trying to hunt it."
Peter stiffened, and apparently that was all the answer his Beta needed.
With a hint of concern, she confirmed to herself. "So there are people out there. Hunters."
"There are." He agreed, his hand coming up to rest on her head. Stroking her hair, Peter pulled her to his side. "People who would do anything to destroy us."
Marcy allowed his affections, enjoying the soft touch and frankly, appreciating the honesty. Her eyes fluttered as she relaxed, tucking herself into his side as he spoke.
"We don't have many weaknesses. The silver thing is a complete myth." He ran his finger through her dark locks, "Never understood that one."
"People speculate that it's an allergic reaction."
"People?" Peter fisted her hair. "What people?"
"On the internet, geez."
His hold loosened and he carried on, rubbing the spot absently. "Hm. There are some things that can hurt us. Wolfsbane for one. Even a little bit can cause pain, delirium…more concentrated doses can kill us."
"That…" Marcy shook her head. "Sounds fucking terrifying."
"It is. Mountain Ash is another. It's less deadly and more an annoyance." The Alpha shifted, trying to coax Marcy back into his side. "We can't cross it."
Instead of leaning into him, the woman stood. Empty bowl in hand, she crossed over to the kitchen. "I'm still listening, by the way."
"As for physical things…"
Before she realized it, he was behind her. Hips pressing against her, Peter pinned her to the sink as he cooed down at her. "Things like evisceration. Getting cut in half…burns take a particularly long time to heal."
"I can see that." Marcy muttered.
He let out a puff of laughter against her neck. "Cute." He dug his claws into her side with a snarl, his thick sharp nails tearing through the thin fabric of her pajama shorts to bite at her skin. "It's not so funny when you're listening to your nephews and nieces screech or your sisters choke to death while their husbands tries to bust out a barred window."
The woman turned to face him. "I'm sorry for your loss. But don't think you can play the dead family card on me whenever you want something." She smirked, her plump lips twisting seductively as she draped an arm around his shoulder. "That's what the Alpha card is for."
"Not one for mixing words, are you?"
"Not really. My dad says honesty is the best way to get people to piss off." Her shoulders bobbed casually as she told him, "So I've tried to keep that in mind."
"He certainly sounds like an eloquent man." Peter cupped her cheek. His gaze searched her face, looking for weakness or fear as his claws grew out. The one poking out of his thumb was a hair's breathe from her eye, but she was hardly distressed. There was only faint arousal to be found, only a listless shift of her hips and an unimpressed blink.
Ignoring his comment, she asked when he intended to start going over the basics with her.
With a twisted smile, he leaned down. Brushing his lips against hers, Peter replied, "We can start right now, if you like."
