CHAPTER FIVE
When he woke again, the sun had set. His legs were wound in the bedclothes and when he moved his foot, glass cut into him. He sat up and turned on a lamp. Strange, he thought. The bottoms of his feet were smooth, although he had no memory of removing the bits of glass from them. Instead, the pieces lay scattered around him, winking in the lamplight. He felt light-headed with hunger and wondered if there was anything to eat in the house. Then reality hit him and he let out his breath in an angry explosion. It didn't matter if there was a banquet waiting for him downstairs. He wouldn't be eating any of it.
Selene was gone. Still, he could sense her presence nearby. He rose from the bed and went in search of her.
She was in the room he had slept in as a child. In her hand was a photograph, framed in silver. She looked up at his approach and turned the photograph toward him, her eyebrows raised. "Uh, yeah," he mumbled. "That's my brother."
"Isn't there anyone else?" Selene asked. "We have to warn them."
"No, we don't," he said firmly. "I've told you, they're dead." He turned and walked out of the room.
Selene wouldn't let go. She followed after him, where she found him carefully brushing glass into his hand. She waited until he threw it away and began again. "Michael, I think we should leave this place."
"Yes, you've said that already."
"I have, but you aren't listening."
"I can hear you perfectly. And I am not going anywhere." He crouched down and looked under the bed. He wasn't going to leave any tattered and stinking clothes lying around for his cousin to find later. He'd set a bonfire in the yard if he had to.
She tried another tactic. "If the two of you are the only ones left, why put him in danger?"
"He isn't a Corvin. Why would the lycans want him?"
"I don't think they're that discerning. If they even suspect he is linked to you, no matter how remotely, they'll come for him."
"Of course they will. What was I thinking?" he said acidly. "Of course they will." There, he thought. I see the other shoe. He dropped to his stomach and reached for it. Selene considered his nakedness and ground her teeth. Death was practically downstairs, trying to break through the door and he didn't give a damn. If he were hell-bent on suicide, there was no reason she should be too. "I'm leaving," she announced.
"I don't think you will."
Goddamn him. "I'm sure I'm going to regret this…but let's have it. Why?"
"You aren't leaving me any more than I am leaving you." His head appeared over the side of the bed. He wasn't smug. In fact, he looked grim. "Maybe it's because we've shared each other's blood. You know, you must realize by now that you're infected with the lycan virus because of me. Maybe that's it. Maybe lycans hear each other's thoughts. I don't have any idea how these things work. But I know something has changed. Don't insult me by pretending you don't know what I'm saying. I know you do. Every single time you moved in your sleep, even if it was a finger, I felt it. It was like one of those dreams where you think you're falling and you wake up. I know you felt it too and I know you woke up with me. But you never did open your eyes."
"That's ludicrous," she spat.
"I agree. That's doesn't make it any less true."
Selene rolled her eyes in derision.
"Look," Michael said. "I get it, OK? I get it. You don't need me. You would be a thousand times better off without me dragging you down. Vampires are egocentric bores. Lycans are dogs under your boots. I might….MIGHT feel the same except for one thing…I am one of those dogs. And I can't even believe I am saying that with a straight face! It's all ludicrous you know, but the most ludicrous thing of all is that you're lying to me and to yourself." He paused for breath and said very quietly, "That's fucked up, but at least I can admit it. You won't."
"What do you mean?"
"What do I mean? Selene, you're six hundred years old! Six hundred years. You know the uses for every weapon ever built but you haven't ever been in love with anyone? That isn't fucked up? You can personally take it upon yourself to kill every living thing on this planet but it won't bring anyone back. Not your family, not Viktor. What kind of life is that? Haven't you ever wanted to be more than what you are?"
"More than what I am," she echoed.
"Can we stop repeating each other? Lie to your coven, but don't lie to me, Selene. Not to me." Michael pitched his ruined jacket and shoes into a pile and sat down at the foot of the bed. He caught Selene's quick glance and decided he was stupid enough to not pretend he hadn't.
"There!" he accused. "I know damned well that you want to look at me. I'm freezing my ass off but I won't put clothes on because I'm hoping you'll notice. And do you know what? I don't care how pathetic that is. I'm hoping you will look at me and stop this bullshit. You think we won't make it if we don't fight them. I'm sure you're right. But do we have to fight each other?"
"How long has your wife been dead?" Selene interrupted, switching gears.
"We weren't married."
"How long has it been since she died?" Selene asked again.
"Long enough that I don't remember the exact sound of her voice. And long enough that I don't want to try anymore because it hurts. Come to bed with me," he said. "You know, when I look at you, I can't see anything else. I don't want anything else. It's eating me up inside because I know I'd do anything to show you." He threw the last bit of caution to the wind. "I know you feel the same. I know you do."
Her lips were pressed into a thin line. Tears slowly rolled down her face and fell onto her breasts. Michael crawled up the bed toward her and licked the drops away. He rose and kissed her cheeks and then her mouth. She sucked the salt from his lips and closed her eyes. She started to push him away but ended up clasping his head to her. She held him with a strength that left him faint.
"Sssshhh," he soothed. "Lie down, lie down. Go to sleep. Tomorrow I'll show you the sun."
