For the Love of a Vampire (Blood Like Poison 1) - Page 21/66

“Bo, Drew was just leaving,” I said, turning my head slightly to direct my words over my shoulder at Bo.  My eyes never left Drew, and I addressed him more quietly.  “This has gone far enough, Drew.  We can talk more later, after you’ve calmed down.”

Drew’s hands shot out and grabbed me by the arms again.  “What if I want to talk now?”

I don’t know how he moved so quickly, but it seemed like the instant that Drew’s fingers touched my arms, Bo was at my side.  He was so close I could feel his body brushing mine from hip to shoulder.  His chest and belly were pressed against me and his arm was stretched out beside my head.  He was reaching past me, his fingers wound tightly around Drew’s throat.

“Touch her again,” Bo said softly, the warning clear in his tone.

I felt Drew’s fingers loosen their hold as he released me.  I was just about to move out of the way when I decided that maybe they were both safer with me between them.  It was my indecision that caused what happened next.

I can only guess that when I started to move out of the way, Drew saw it as an opportunity to get in the first strike, a sucker punch.  He brought his fist around in an upper cut aimed right at Bo’s chin.  Unfortunately, when I stepped back into position, his fist connected with my jaw on the way up instead.

Violently, my head snapped back on my neck.  I saw a bright flash of light and heard a sickening crunch just before a pain more intense than anything I’ve ever felt sliced through my head.  It lasted only for a fraction of a second before a black sea of nothingness drowned out sight, sound and, thankfully, feeling.

CHAPTER FOUR

Clarity and awareness came and went for what seemed like hours.  I remember very little before coming semi-awake in a cool room that smelled like Bo.  There was something wet against my lips and it made them feel warm and tingly.  I licked them and whatever it was tasted salty with a hint of sweetness.

That taste and the smell of Bo were the only things that seemed even halfway clear.  I heard voices, but they echoed as if I were listening to them from far away through a tunnel.

“She needs more,” I heard Bo say to someone.  “You’re going to have to open her mouth.”

“Her jaw’s broken, Bo.  What if—” a woman’s voice was saying before Bo interrupted.

“It has to be done if I’m going to heal her.  Just do it,” he growled impatiently, cutting her off.

Next I felt the faint pressure of tender fingers at my cheek.  It was like being touched when the numbing from the dentist is just beginning to wear off—barely perceptible.  But then someone tried to force what felt like a finger between my teeth.  Excruciating pain shot through my entire skull.  A scream bubbled up in my throat, but the second my jaw strained the tiniest bit to let it out, the pain worsened, becoming so severe I lost that tenuous hold on the world again.

When next I woke, I couldn’t decide if hours had elapsed since that horrible pain, or mere seconds.  My body felt like lead and my head felt like cotton.  With great effort I raised my hand to my face and touched my fingers gingerly to my cheek.  I half expected to feel something swollen and totally misshapen, but I didn’t.

I ran my hand all along my left cheek and jaw line then around my chin to the other side.  It felt like my face, the same way it had felt all my life.

Slowly inhaling, I held my breath and pressed ever so slightly into the flesh where my jaw hinged.  It was a little sore, but nothing like what I would’ve expected considering how badly it had hurt earlier.

Hazily, Bo’s words came back to me as if reaching out to my consciousness through a dense fog.

It has to be done if I’m gonna heal her, he’d said.  I had to have imagined that.  I mean, obviously that couldn’t have been what I’d heard.  People couldn’t just heal a broken jaw, which was what I’m pretty sure I had, thanks to Drew.  I could still remember the white hot pain.  I shuddered to think of it.

Letting my hand drop, I listened closely to what was going on around me.  Muffled movements and faint whispers were coming from another room.  I couldn’t make out anything concrete and I still had no idea where I was.

I lay perfectly still, trying to remember what had happened, but the strain of thinking only served to make my head throb rebelliously.

I heard the creak of floorboards a few feet away.  The hushed rustle of movement alerted me to the presence of someone in the room with me, but I wasn’t ready to be awake yet, so I left my eyes closed and kept my breathing slow and steady, hoping I was convincing enough to fool the casual observer.

The footsteps didn’t approach me, but whoever it was didn’t move for a few seconds.  They must’ve been checking on me, watching me from maybe a hall or a doorway.

Finally, the creak sounded again and I could hear soft footfalls fade as the person walked away.  Seconds later, I heard a woman’s voice coming from another room.  It was the same voice I thought I’d heard earlier, talking to Bo.

“She’s still out,” she said quietly.  “You need to feed before she wakes up.  You’ll have to take her home and you can’t go like that.”

I heard nothing for a moment, but then the dull scrape of what sounded like a chair scooting back sounded right before nearly silent tread approached the room I was in.  I cracked my eyelids the tiniest bit, just enough so I could see through my eyelashes.

A dim light was shining through the doorway to my left.  As I listened to the footsteps, I watched the doorway for someone to appear.  I heard the boards creak as if someone had stopped just inside the room, but I saw no one.

That tangy, soapy scent that I associated with Bo became more pronounced, tickling my nose and bringing to mind an image of his endless dark eyes.  I don’t know where the smell was coming from, though, because I was still very much alone.

Deep and even, I kept breathing, watching covertly, until I heard the floorboards creak again, followed by the sound of footsteps fading back into the other room.

I listened and I waited.  Just barely, I could hear the muted sounds of activity as well as a couple of short whispers.  I strained to make out words or identify voices, but it was no use.  They were just too quiet.

A sudden grinding sound caused me to jump, but when I heard ice cubes hitting the bottom of a glass, I calmed, recognizing the noise as an icemaker.  The one at our house sounded just like that.