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"What is it?" her aunt asked, peering at her uncovered arm. "Tell me what to look for. Are your scars giving you pain? Because Dr. Lewis can prescribe something for that, I'm sure - " "They're not scars," Tavia murmured. She ran her fingers over the webwork of swirls and arcs, feeling nothing unusual. "I don't know what they are, but just a little while ago, these markings were all different colors. They were ... I don't know how to explain it. They were ... alive somehow."
Aunt Sarah was staring at her, not at the markings on her arm but deep into her eyes. "They look perfectly ordinary to me, sweetheart. I don't see anything wrong."
"No," Tavia said. "Neither do I. Not anymore." Which made her wonder once again - made her hope desperately - that the transformation she thought she'd experienced had just been a bizarre hallucination. "What about my eyes, Aunt Sarah? How do they look to you?"
"The same pretty green as always," she answered gently. "But those dark circles under them concern me very much. You need rest and you need your medication."
"And my teeth?" she pressed. "Nothing strange there?"
As Aunt Sarah's look turned pitying, Tavia ran her tongue over the line of her teeth, finding only her usual slight overbite. Her canines were in alignment with the rest of her mouth, no fangs jutting down from her gums.
"I'm going to call Dr. Lewis now, okay?" the older woman said, speaking to her like she was a moron. And really, that shouldn't come as a surprise, given the outlandish things that had just come out of her mouth. "I have more of your medicines in the hall closet. You stay right here, and I'll get you some to take while we're waiting for the doctor. Does that sound all right to you, Tavia honey?"
She nodded as she was left alone in the kitchen, weary of all that had happened, whether it was some jarring new reality or manufactured completely in her mind.
She wasn't about to bring up the sex. That, she was sure, had happened. And she thought better about mentioning the blood on her body too, even if some of it might help substantiate her ordeal. Telling Aunt Sarah about that would only prompt a full body scan - or worse, an examination of her person by Dr. Lewis and his icy hands and implements.
"Here you are now." Aunt Sarah hurried back in with a handful of brown prescription bottles. She set them down in front of Tavia then went to the sink to fill a glass with water. "Go on, take them. You'll feel better; you know that."
Tavia shook out the various tablets and capsules that made up her thrice-daily meds regimen. She washed them down with a big gulp of water, shuddering as the knot of pills and the cold liquid cascaded into her body. "I need a shower," she murmured, winding down quickly now that she was back on familiar ground. "I'm so thirsty and tired."
"Of course you are." Aunt Sarah helped her get to her feet. "You freshen up and get some rest. I'm calling the doctor right now. I'm sure he'll be here within the hour."
CHASE CLEANED THE BLOODSTAINS from the bedroom floor as best he could, although he didn't know why he bothered. The Darkhaven hadn't been lived in for more than a year, and he sure as hell had no reason to step foot in it ever again. Nothing but bad memories and shame within these walls.
And today, with what happened between Tavia and him, he'd added the cherry on top.
Figuratively, if not literally.
"Jesus, way to fuck things up." He bunched up the wad of wet paper towels, taken from a yellowing roll he'd found in the kitchen, and pitched them into the bathroom trash with the bandage wrappers and bent needle from his earlier self-stitchery.
As he passed the sink, his gaze snagged on the silver vial of Crimson. He picked it up, held it for a moment. Rolled the slender container in his palm. Considered ripping out the wax-sealed cork and flushing the poisonous contents down the toilet.
But his hand refused to give the damn thing up.
Less a lifeline than a swift means to a certain end, this last existing dose of Crimson was a crutch he dreaded he might need - maybe sooner than later.
Still midafternoon and his blood thirst was clawing at him already again, if it had ever truly left him. He wasn't sure anymore. The cold, constant ache was becoming a part of him. How long before it owned him completely?
Considering how close he'd come to taking a bite out of Tavia's neck today, his descent into Bloodlust was getting slipperier all the time.
Just the thought - and the reminder of how incredible it had felt to be inside her - made him hard all over again, his blood surging through his veins like lava in its rush to head south. All the worse when he was still torqued from the release he'd interrupted in order to prevent himself from sinking his fangs into her throat as his orgasm had begun to crest.
The urge to free himself into his hand now and work her out of his system was one he didn't even attempt to resist. The vial of Crimson fisted in the hand he braced against the black granite countertop, he took his shaft in the other and furiously pumped it off into the sink. He came on a rough shout that was more about relief than pleasure.
With his release went some of the edge that was riding him, but the greater need still lingered. And now that he'd had a small taste of Tavia Fairchild, he knew better than to think he could be trusted anywhere near the female.
There had been a time - a million years ago, it seemed - when he'd been all about restraint and honor. He'd held himself to exacting standards and high ideals, dismissive of anything less than perfection. Like his father and brother before him, he'd been an impeccable enforcer of Breed law, merciless when it came to those who could not keep themselves or their own selfish needs in check.
What he'd been in truth was a self-righteous prick who'd considered himself leagues above the rest of the unwashed masses, his own kind and human alike.
What a fucking joke.
He had somehow become the thing he'd despised the most. And even worse, he'd dragged an innocent, frightened young woman into the mess along with him.
She was probably spilling everything to the cops by now. Maybe the news outlets as well. Just another mess he'd made that would have to be cleaned up quickly. He shouldn't have let her run out like she had. There was too much that needed explaining. Too many things that she needed to know in order to understand what she truly was.
A Breed female.
