Chapter twelve
Jordan's POV:
I awoke to an acute pounding above my right eye, as if someone had decided it might be fun to strike my skull repeatedly with a hammer. As soon as I opened my eyes I winced and closed them again, lifted my fingers to my forehead and felt a bloody lump the size of a goose egg, where did that come from? I drew my hand away and caught the scent of the blood smeared on my skin, mixed with the familiar scent of my own blood was something else; a sweet, alluring smell, the fragrance of sugary honeysuckle and spring rain. My senses exalted in it, it was the most delicious thing I'd ever smelled. Except I'd encountered this scent before. Dylan's scent. Dylan's blood.
The entire night's events flooded back into my brain like a noxious gas. Stalking Dylan in the woods, the fight with the vampire who'd sprung to her aid in the forest, following her scent in my weaker human form to the great house of the vampire coven that sheltered her, persuading her to come out into the yard to talk with me…
I hadn't realized how much I'd missed her company. I'd allowed my lupine half dominance for so long all I'd been able to focus on was the smell of her, the hunger, and the power I knew could be gained… It had been my sole desire to devour her. But once in my human form again, and standing there with her, with her expressions and her voice and her emotions directed solely at me, I'd realized how much I'd missed her, how much I'd loved her- I loved her still. How could I not? She was the most enthralling human being I'd ever met, and I was horrified at what had become of us, what I'd done to her.
She'd kissed me, oh god how I'd missed kissing her. Remembering this sent a thrill of pleasure through my sore body, but I knew it wasn't untainted. I'd lost control, so close to her, with the irresistible smell of her skin and the barely subdued aroma of her wounds. I felt a pang of disgust at this; wounds I'd given her. I so nearly killed her right then, but we pulled apart, and any thoughts I'd had of feasting on the source of the heavenly fragrance were driven straight from my head by the look on her face. Such horror, and such heartbreaking pain. I would have gladly given up ever hunting again if I could have erased that look from her face.
I'd tried to comfort her and she'd yelled at me, yelled at me in a way she'd never done before. I couldn't believe the hatred behind her outburst, I'd thought it would physically burn me. I'd shouted back, I couldn't help it, I loved her, but she could be the most irritating person! This was all my fault? I wasn't the one who initiated the kiss! I told her the first night we met that I was dangerous, that she was better off distancing herself from me completely. Did she listen? No. She never listened; she never had any interest in common sense or self-preservation. I hadn't forced her into our relationship, she could have walked away at any time, it was her choice as much as mine.
And now she was acting like I'd gotten into this just to play around with her, watch her squirm while I slowly but surely went in for the kill! How could she accuse me of that? Did she think so little of me; did she hate me that much?
Okay, so yes, maybe this was mostly my fault. All my fault. I should have foreseen the consequences of getting so attached to a human, I should have known to end it when I still could. But I'd been so caught up in her, I'd never experienced anything like being in love with Dylan, it was amazing. Looking back on it, I probably couldn't have walked away from her, even if I'd wanted to. And now we were…. We were screwed is what we were. This conflict could only end in pain, and most probably…death. Her death.
But it wasn't just me making those bad decisions, was it? I mean, she wanted to be with me, even when I told her how dangerous it was, she risked it. Was that a good enough excuse? Shouldn't real love mean I'd be strong enough to put her safety before my own desires and pull away from her when I still could? Wouldn't that have been the right thing to do?
But I hadn't done that. And now it was too late. That's what she'd said, "it's too late." But she'd meant it was too late to pick up where we'd left off, to resurrect our love. Was that true? I didn't want to think about that. I knew it was horribly selfish of me to want to be with her after all I'd put her through, knowing how dangerous I was… But I still wanted it; I wanted it more than I could possibly explain to her. And she had kissed me. Was it really too late if we could still kiss like that, like we had all the time in the world and nothing else mattered save us?
As I thought of all this, I asked myself why I hadn't said it to her. Why hadn't I told her how I felt about this? I'd been so caught up in the excitement, and the anger; her anger fueled mine, made me lose my head. I couldn't tell her how much pain it gave me to watch her cry, to watch her pull away from me. All I'd let her see was my own indignation and frustration. After all, that was all I'd been given for a long time.
And then one of her newfound protectors had emerged from the forest, seen me at the exact same moment I saw him. I'd transformed-it was a reflex, all vampires were enemies of werewolves, it was a natural law, and being angry and upset only made me more susceptible to my wolf self. But of course the moment I'd given myself over to my animal mind, I'd locked onto Dylan again.
She was so frail, so delicate and slow, how easy it would have been to snap her neck like a tooth pick. But the vampire held me back, and another one joined him. I fought them off, and I'd pursued her. Pursued her the way a wolf pursues an injured deer, taking time to let the fear build, so that the pulse will be vibrating with adrenaline by the time he gets around to ripping into the jugular, knowing how simple bringing it down will be, and how delicious it will taste once he tears into the flesh.
But of course Dylan was no deer, she was smart, and she'd had experiences like this before. I felt another stab of guilt and self-hatred. She'd struck me with painful silver, and smashed a rock over my head, quite effectively, I remembered my tender bump. Then she'd fled, not heeding my calls. Why would she? Why would she trust me at all? After everything I'd done to her, all the pain I'd put her through? I couldn't understand why she'd ever gotten involved with me at all. Surely I should have known this would happen the moment I sat down with her and indulged her curiosity about my kind, the moment I inhaled the warm smell of her.
Back then it had been tolerable; I was able to beat down the craving. Back then I'd only had to worry about attacking her on the full moons, which was easily dealt with. I moaned to myself, I wasn't sure if it was out of physical or mental pain. I was the most despicable being on the planet. She was right to hate me, to fear me. And I thought I loved her. Ha. How could I truly love her if I hurt her in so many ways? She was right; all we had were moments, and moments meant nothing, because I couldn't be trusted, my love was worth nothing.
"Feeling alright?" came a calm, melodious voice from my left. My mind snapped back out of my morose reflection into the present, my eyes flew open and sought the source of the words. How could I not have heard them come in? Then I saw the bleached skin, the flawless features and tawny eyes.
Ah, of course, they were as silent as owls in flight; I could never hear one coming unless I was expecting it. I had only glimpsed this one in the field earlier this evening. He was somewhat older than the ones I'd fought, though still physically perfect, as they all were. He had an oddly kind, sympathetic face, full of compassion and caring, I'd never seen such a humanness in the face of a vampire. It unnerved me. He stood in the doorway, behind him was the younger one with reddish-bronze hair, and a little way off the muscular one stood, glowering in my direction.
It only occurred to me then that I was in a room, and not out in the woods as I'd automatically assumed. It was a simple, undecorated room with no windows and only one door. The thick, white-washed metal pipes running along the ceiling and the musky, damp smell led me to guess it was a basement of some kind, and indeed, two or three neatly sealed cardboard boxes were set in the corner, and what looked like a busted stereo speaker was propped up beside them. There was a plain, hard couch shoved into the corner, probably down here for storage rather than actual leisure activity, and this was where I was laying.
I was rather too long for it, and my feet dangled off the end. I sat up and pulled them around to rest on the concrete floor, they were bare, and the floor was chilly. My head spun a little as I moved, but it was easy enough to ignore. I looked back at the vampire standing across from me. His eyebrows were raised, he was expecting an answer to his question, I couldn't remember what he'd asked, he seemed to guess from my blank expression and came toward me. There was something off about the way he moved, it wasn't the loping, sinuous gait of a normal vampire, more like a human, though his steps were more fluid and graceful than any human could ever be.
I looked up at his face again as he came close and suddenly registered what the color of his eyes meant. They were deep honey-gold, not the wine-red of carnivorous vampires. This coven must be one of the rare groups that abstained from hunting humans. Instead they hunted animals.
That explained why Dylan was with them, I knew she would never take shelter with a group of true vampires, she'd had enough experience to know not to go near those, especially if she were wounded and bleeding, as she had been. But, even though this coven was vegetarians, so to speak, they were clearly not completely immune to the lure of human blood. One of their own had tried to attack her upon catching the scent of the fresh blood, and had only been restrained from murdering her by his fellows, who evidently had more control. He wasn't one of the ones standing outside, I noted. I hoped he wasn't with Dylan, wherever she might be. Bandages or no, the smell was still mouth watering, who was to say he would behave himself if given the opportunity to finish her off?
I was distracted from this train of thought as the vampire stopped in front of me and leaned down to my level, his serious gaze locking with mine. I didn't blink and he smiled a little. "You don't mind if I take a look, do you?" he asked, gesturing to my forehead.
Um what? Was this some interrogation tactic? Act all friendly and concerned and then go in for the kill? Wait, no kill, forgot, yellow eyes, no human blood, right. My headache gave another painful throb, a not so subtle rebuke; "shut up and answer yes or no you idiot!"
"Sure." I muttered, casting my eyes down. His cold fingertips traced the swelled red gash lightly, "can you see alright out of this eye?"
"Fine."
"No black or blurry patches, no problems with color or focusing?"
"No,"
"What about dizziness, headache, fatigue, nausea, difficulty remembering anything?" Ha, I wish I could forget the past few hours. Memory loss would be a blessing.
"Headache, a little queasy."
"Very well. You have a minor concussion I believe, nothing too serious, it should wear off in a few hours. Drink this," he handed me a water bottle, I drank, unaware of how thirsty I actually was. Thirst always accompanied reverting back to my human shape, if I hadn't satisfied my thirst for blood in my wolf form, then I was parched after I transformed. Within a minute I'd chugged most of the bottle. The vampire swiped a cotton swab soaked in peroxide over my cut, I winced. He ignored me and peered closer at the bump.
"It's a close call, but I think you'll only need one or two stitches."
"I don't need any stitches, I'm a quick healer." He looked up at me wryly, "no doubt."
He knew as well as I did that werewolves had very quick regenerative abilities, though in my weakened state, it would take at least a day for my strength to return enough for these powers to begin to work. "I'm sure you are perfectly capable of looking after yourself, young man, but the cut in quite nasty, it's best to seal it up quickly so it can heal faster. She gave you quite a whack didn't she?" I stiffened at his casual question; it did not escape his notice.
"How is she?" I breathed. I didn't want to give anything away, but I couldn't keep from asking this. "She'll mend." The vampire said calmly, then added, "you didn't hurt her too badly," the tone implied he was referring to this evening only, not to the week before, where I'd nearly torn her limb from limb. He continued, explaining, "A few cuts on her head and neck, nothing fatal. And the stitches in her leg and shoulder didn't open, which is a miracle, so, providing she doesn't lose anymore blood," here he gave me a somewhat admonishing look, "and assuming the infection doesn't spread, she should be up to scratch in two to three weeks."
Two to three weeks, infection, stitches? I wanted to find a small hole somewhere and curl up in it and never again emerge, my shame burned in my cheeks. I didn't say anything; the pounding in my head was growing more painful.
"I suppose that comes as a relief?" The vampire asked tentatively, pressing. "Yes." I agreed. The silence was uncomfortable, but I didn't know what to say to this man, how much did he know already? Did Dylan tell him the whole story, or had she edited? I wish I could speak to her, find out what she had revealed and what she wanted to keep hidden, if she trusted them, if they trusted her for that matter, if they were going to take revenge on me…
"You're name is Jordan, isn't it?" he asked evenly, breaking the silence and drawing my gaze up to his again. "Yes," I said warily.
"My name is Carlisle, and those are my sons, Emmett and Edward," he gestured toward the two just visible through the small gap of the half open door, "You've met, I daresay?" Was he mocking me? I nodded tightly, but felt compelled to respond, "I'm very sorry about that, I didn't mean to-"
"No need to apologize, Jordan, you were not in your right mind at the time, we will not hold it against you." Well that seemed rather generous, too generous to be true. In my experience vampires are very vengeful creatures. Living as long as they do, they do not easily forgive offenses, they hold grudges for decades, and often seek bloody retribution. It seemed ludicrous that this coven would just magnanimously forgive my attack on two of their family, surely they saw me as an enemy and a threat, surely they would want to punish me?
But then again, these creatures didn't seem to follow the normal customs of their kind: abstaining from human blood, keeping a permanent residence amongst humans, freely interacting with them, caring for a werewolf attacker. I supposed I couldn't assume anything with these people.
"Well, thank you, that's very understanding, more understanding than I deserve." I said sincerely. Carlisle smiled a little at my earnest gratitude, but his eyes were still steely. "I'm afraid that forgiveness does not come freely, Jordan." He stated this regretfully, as if he did not want to be the bearer of bad news, but he knew it must be done. "You must understand, we are somewhat perplexed by this situation, we are curious…" Ah, they wanted answers from me. Dylan hadn't told them what they wanted to know. "We naturally have a few questions,"
"I don't know if I can help you with that, I don't know very much myself." He smiled again, a paternal smile, as if he'd expected as much. "But, I daresay, you know a bit more than we do." Couldn't contradict him there.
"What did she tell you?" I demanded warily, feeling myself backing up slowly into a corner, but unable to find any exits. His brows knit is mild frustration- bingo. "Very little, she insists she doesn't know you, is that true?"
"Yes. I saw her for the first time yesterday, in the woods, she was bleeding and I was hungry, so I followed her." The lie burned my throat like hot oil as I spoke it, but I knew it sounded convincing, I kept my face impassive, honest. "But tonight was not the full moon, nor was the night before. Why would you be in your wolf form if it was not the right moon phase?" There was no reason to lie about this, I suspected he knew the rules as well as I did, but if I told the whole story he'd see through me, he knew there must be more to it than the normal circumstances, he was trying to catch me off guard. It wouldn't work. I spoke the truth, but edited, leaving out the details that linked me to Dylan.
"I drank human blood during the full moon." I said simply. "It's natural to hunt animals in our wolf forms, but the evil magic that runs in our veins, separates us from true wolves, it drives us to hunt people as well. If a Lycan sticks to a diet of strictly animals during the three nights of the full moon, he will only be forced into his wolf shape during that certain part of the month. But when he kills a human, he is cursed, forever a monster, not just during the full moon. So I can transform whenever I choose, or whenever the urge becomes too strong." He knew this already, I was sure, but I felt I had to spell it out, as I'd spelled it out to Dylan years ago.
He nodded, his mouth turning down at the corners. "So you just happened upon Dylan in the woods. Didn't you wonder why she was bleeding so heavily?"
"No, at the time all I could focus on was the fact that there was so much human blood in my vicinity, I didn't really ponder the reason. Wolves don't often concern themselves with the technicalities of our prey."
"So you don't know what did it to her?"
"Another wolf in the area perhaps, a cougar, a bear, there are plenty of big predators around here, or maybe just a dog."
"That's what she said."
"You don't believe her?"
"No, I don't. I'm a doctor, Jordan, I've worked in many places and dealt with many different injuries, and I've seen dog bites before. These were too large for any dog, and there was a very small amount of some strange venom in the blood, not enough to have any negative effects, but still…"
I bit the inside of my lip, dammit, venom, I should have known.
Whenever we scent a likely prey our mouths automatically secrete the poison that triggers the Lycan transformation. Usually we kill our prey before the venom has time to circulate and infect the body, but if we don't finish the job, and enough venom had entered the blood stream, that person will become a werewolf at the next full moon. I was horrified that I had inadvertently poisoned Dylan, but if the doctor was telling the truth, as I believed he was, then she would not be cursed as I was.
But still, he had found the weak point in my story, he had guessed the truth. I felt my pulse quicken as he went in for the kill.
Carlisle finished his statement with a note of delicate assumption, "the only predator that I know of that transmits that kind of venom is Lycans. And I know for a fact that the werewolves in this area do not hunt humans, nor do a majority of them even transform at the full moon, the bloodline is diluted, the trait is hardly ever passed on anymore. So, who could have bitten her, if not you?"
