Witch Hunt, A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy (The Maurin Kincaide Series) (22 page)

17

“There’s this thing called a note - ma
ybe you’ve heard of it?” Aidan said when I walked in the door.

“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the closet.
You’re up early. It’s only like 3:30,” I said as I set my bags down on the kitchen counter.

Aidan came in behind me.
He had changed out of the T -shirt and sweats that he’d had on last night and into a pair of designer jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt while I was gone.

“I’ve always been an early riser, esp
ecially in the winter. I got up and you were gone. I was worried about you. I’ll be sure not to make that mistake - what the hell happened to you?” he asked when he caught sight of the blood-soaked dishtowels.

“I was hungry so I went to the diner down the street,” I started to explain.

“You were attacked on the street?” he asked.

“Are you going to let me tell you what happened, or are you going to interrupt the whole time?”
I scolded.

“Sorry, go on,” he murmured.

“Thank you,” I said and proceeded to tell him everything that had happened just one flight down from where he slept.

“Take off your pants,” he ordered.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m not that kind of girl,” I said, amused with my witty comeback.

“Would you just show me the wound please?” he asked.

I was wearing leggings so, much to his chagrin, I didn’t have to take my pants off. I propped my leg up on the kitchen chair, took off the towel and hiked my pants leg up over my calf. I spun around, balancing my leg on the toe of my shoe so he could get a better look. Aidan sucked in a breath. I had to twist around and look over my shoulder to see the back of my leg. The gashes were already starting to close, but the skin around them looked like a fiery red spider web. The lines went under the fabric bunched up at my knee. I took the towel off of my hand. It looked just as bad. I shed my coat for a better look at my arm. The red lines were spreading up my forearm and curling around my elbow.

“We’re going to have to lance them,” A
idan said.

“What? No we’re not,” I told him.
“I can heal almost as fast as you can!”

“So you’re impervious to infection then?” he asked.

I didn’t answer because I didn’t know.

“You may heal like a vampire, but you’re not one.
We’re lancing and cleaning the wounds. End of discussion,” Aidan said.

“No, it’s not.
I’m just getting started,” I said before my good leg gave out and I went down like a sack of potatoes. Thankfully, I slowed my decent with my face on the table. I was obviously not impervious to infection.

“I think we should lance it,” I said, wiping away the blood from my newly-split lip.

“I think that may have actually knocked some of the stubbornness out of you,” Aidan said.

He was moving around my apartment so fast that it made my head hurt to watch him.
He found my first aid kit, grabbed the filet knife from the set on my counter and got a fifth of vodka from the freezer.

“This isn’t the eighteen-hundreds.
There’s rubbing alcohol and iodine in the first aid kit,” I said from my new spot on the floor.

It seemed like a waste of time and ene
rgy to get up. He wasn’t going to lance my leg while I was standing anyway.

“The vodka’s for you,” he said. “Not the wound.”

He scooped up his surgical supplies and joined me on the floor. I grabbed the fifth of vodka and took several swigs. In truth, I consumed enough of the liquid courage to get an elephant tanked while he sanitized the knife. I rolled over onto my stomach. My head was already spinning. That was too much too fast on an empty stomach. My body tensed as soon as he wiped my leg with the rubbing alcohol.

“Try and relax.
It won’t hurt as much,” Aidan suggested.

“I don’t care how much vodka you give me, this is about as relaxed as I get when someone is about to cut me open,” I told him.

I tried to look over my shoulder so that I could see what he was doing.

“Would you hold still?
The idea is to reopen the cuts you already have - not give you new ones!” Aidan barked.

I turned back around, resting my for
ehead on my good arm. He’d be coming for the injured hand soon enough. I think the vodka was already wearing off.

“Maybe I should just call Amalie.
She could probably get some allicorn,” I said.

“No,” he replied.

“Why? That stuff really works,” I whined.

“We’re not calling anyone from the co
ven. They’ve done quite enough already,” he said.

“Amalie’s my friend; she wasn’t involved in this, she would never do that to me,” I said, more to convince myself than him.

Do you really want to find out if she was truly your friend right now?” he asked.

I didn’t answer.
He was right, of course, but I couldn’t tell him that. Thanks to the coven, I had endured enough disappointment to last me a lifetime. As far as I knew, Amalie was my friend. She was one of the few friends that I had. I didn’t want to find out that she had been acting too, at least not right now. Maybe not ever.

“If this doesn’t work, I’ll draw the poison out myself,” Aidan said.

My breath hitched. A flock of butterflies had apparently taken up residence in my stomach. This wasn’t how it had happened in my dreams, but my heart was pounding nonetheless. I tried to slow my heartbeat. I knew that he could sense the reaction that I’d had to the mere mention of his mouth on my skin and the thought of his fangs piercing me. He was probably pretty pleased with himself right now.

“We could always skip past this and go right to the part where you drive your fangs deep into me,” I suggested.

Nope, the vodka had not worn off. I could not believe I’d said that! I could feel the blush of embarrassment burning its way across my face.

He laughed and ran his hand up my leg. The tips of his fingers brushed the top inside of my thigh, and then he worked his way back down.
‘Holy hell,’ I thought. Heat danced along my skin where he had touched me. Maybe that was from the blood poisoning?

“Hold still,” he said.

His voice sounded different now. It was rougher, deeper. Maybe I wasn’t the only one having dirty thoughts. Or maybe it was because he hadn’t fed yet and was about to open a floodgate.

Inappropriate thoughts were quickly r
eplaced with inappropriate language as he made one cut and then another and another. I could feel the blood run down the side of my leg and pool on the floor under my shin. He let the cuts bleed for what seemed like an hour before finally wiping them with what had to be the roughest paper towels ever made. He poured the rubbing alcohol over my leg. I let loose a chain of expletives that would have made even the most hardened sailor blush. After another pass with the sandpaper towel, he bandaged my leg.

“Okay, let’s see that hand,” he said.

I rolled over and pushed myself up to a seated position. He took my hand in his, examining the claw marks and red lines running up my arm.

“This is worse than your leg.
The cuts aren’t as clean,” he said, reaching for the cursed rubbing alcohol again.

I grabbed the vodka and took a few more tugs from the bottle as he cleaned the knife again.

“I don’t know, Maurin. There are too many scratches where he clawed at your wrist. That’s a lot of cutting,” Aidan explained, concern evident in his voice.

“So what now?” I asked.

“I had really hoped to avoid this. You’re malnourished and dehydrated and you’ve already lost a lot of blood, but I don’t see any other way,” he rationalized.

His mouth was on my wrist before I could say anything.
He looked up at me, his hazel eyes peeking through his long beautiful lashes. Why did guys always get such amazing lashes?

A soft moan escaped my lips as his fangs pierced the thin skin at my wrist.
He pulled me closer with his right hand wrapped around my left arm, his mouth never leaving my wrist. He slipped his right arm behind my back, cradling me. Now this was like the dreams I’d had. I forgot all about the immediate danger, the poison and the Afrit as he drank from me. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed into me with each pull that he took from my wrist. I slipped my right arm out from in between us and ran my fingers through his hair. I ran my tongue up and down his jugular while it pulsed with my blood. This time he moaned and I busied myself with kissing his neck, nibbling his ear and anything else that would cause him to make that sound again. The pleasure was building and building until I felt like I was a dam about to burst. It rushed through me like a flash flood. My head fell back and I went limp in his arms.

Aidan removed his fangs from my wrist and lapped at the two little punctures that he had made, removing any trace of his bite.
I cursed my body for not producing blood fast enough to let this last longer. I tried to open my eyes, but the room was spinning and I felt like I was going to hurl. I decided throwing up all over him was not the most romantic way to end whatever this was and kept my eyes closed. I could feel him examining my arm to be sure that the poison was out. I took the trail of kisses up my arm as a good sign. His lips found their way to mine. He kissed me with a passion that I had never experienced before, sending little tremors through my body. It was official. I was a fang banger.

“You’re shivering,” he said with a trace of worry.

“I think it’s from the aftershocks,” I said, my voice husky, my throat dry.

“I think it’s just shock,” he replied.

He stood effortlessly with me still cradled in his arms. He was warm now, since he had just fed from me. I curled up against his chest so that more of me was touching him. He carried me to my room and set me down on my bed. In the few seconds that it took to get to my room, the spins had gotten out of control. I put my hands on my head in an effort to slow them down, surprised at how clammy my skin was. The chills set in and I couldn’t stop my body from shaking. Aidan started to cover me up. I reached for his hand, but it was already gone. Damned vampire speed. I tried to see if he was still in the room, but my eyes wouldn’t focus, so I closed them again. I don’t know why at that moment I was so convinced of it, but I knew that he wouldn’t leave me unless I ordered him away - and probably not even then.

I heard a beeping noise.
Before I could process the fact that it was my microwave, Aidan was at my bedside with my breakfast from the diner. The smell of eggs and meat hit me. My nose and mouth said yes, but my stomach said hell no. I made a weak attempt to push the tray of food away.

“I know that you don’t feel like you’re up to eating right now, but I need you to at least drink the juice.
Your appetite will return after that,” he said.

“I have juice?
I don’t remember buying juice. I doubt it’s any good,” I muttered.

“I checked the date.
It’s fine. Come on, take a sip,” he said.

I could feel the end of the straw on my lip.
When I asked him where he got the straw from, he told me to shut up and drink the juice. I managed to get a few sips down and was pleasantly surprised that they stayed down. I took a few more. I think that he said something about taking it easy, but I ignored the advice as usual. I sucked down the rest of the juice in two long sips. I actually felt a little better. I still couldn’t get over how fast my body could fix itself. Well, from most things - whatever the Afrit had poisoned me with certainly seemed to be a problem. I still had the chills, but the room had stopped spinning. I started to sit up. Aidan was right there helping me, propping up pillows behind my back.

“Do you want to try to eat a little something?” he asked.

I gave a little nod and he set the plate of food on my lap. I laughed when I looked down at the plate and saw that he had already cut up the steak and linguica for me.

“You cut my steak?” I asked.

“I thought that it would be difficult to manage a knife and fork the way that your hands were shaking,” he answered.

“Thanks,” I said.
“For everything.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said.
“I should have stopped sooner, when I couldn’t taste the poison anymore.”

“So why didn’t you?”
I asked.

The look in his eyes was extremely i
ntense. I wished that I could take the question back. I couldn’t tell if his answer would be good or bad. I didn’t even know what I wanted him to say. I was suddenly very nervous.

“Because I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.
Because last night wasn’t enough. It won’t ever be enough,” he said.

I wasn’t exactly sure how to take that last part.
Was that a good thing, like he was totally into me, or a bad thing, like my blood was lacking something? I must have looked bewildered, because he decided to elaborate. I could tell that he thought further explanation was unnecessary, but with a girl like me you had to break it down. Otherwise I would scrutinize every detail and every word in my head obsessively.