tingle of pain skittered up my
sternum. I looked down to inspect the wound, but realized I wasn't
wearing
the same clothes I had arrived in. Slightly amused, I gazed in awe at my new ensemble. A bulky pair of gray sweats wrapped around my legs while a simple white t-shirt covered my chest. Someone had cleaned me up and changed my clothes sometime while I slept. I must've really been out of it. I glanced quickly into the shirt collar to see that my black tank top was gone. Whoever had done this had got a quick peek, too. I nervously pulled the waistband of the sweats out and found, to my relief, my black panties were where they should be. At least they had kept some of my dignity intact. I pulled the t-shirt up and noticed the wound had nearly healed. Only a dark bruise and a slight red crease wiggling up toward my collarbone remained. Almost all of the scorch marks, and the cuts on my arm from the glass were gone as well. Which made me wonder how long had I been sleeping. With another tentative stretch, I turned and slid off the edge of the bed into the thick carpeting. As I stood, a wave of dizziness washed down from my skull. Teetering, I braced my hand against the wall and closed my eyes. I waited for the feeling to pass. Licking my lips, I pressed my hand to my forehead. Usually after feeding, I felt ready to take on the entire world. This time, however, I felt like everyone in the world had taken turns kicking the crap out of me. "Must've been something I ate,” I moaned, thinking of Lucas. I had never fed from a Warlock before—or anyone magical for that matter. Perhaps there was something about them that gave Vampires a sour stomach. Maybe it was the blending of human and Inhuman physiology that created them. Unlike Witches, Warlocks weren't exactly human anymore. Or perhaps it was merely the power that coursed through his body. By ingesting his blood, I had taken some of that into me. Magic users had to train for years to make their bodies capable of channeling massive amounts of power. Maybe I simply couldn't handle it. That seemed like the most obvious answer. Once I opened my eyes, I stumbled toward the door unevenly. With each step I took, I started to feel a bit more like myself. Placing my hands on the door to steady myself, I heard voices on the other side. I pressed my ear gently to the door and listened. Clearly making out Maynard and Toby among them, they seemed to be in a very serious discussion. I felt myself smile at the sound of my partner's voice. My frown quickly faded as I heard Karl's helium inflated intonation, and then Elena's. What is she doing here?
Twisting the knob, I slowly pulled the door open. The bedroom opened into the massive living room dominated by dark wood, brick, and glass. The far wall was constructed completely of glass and stretched up to the top of the room's cathedral ceiling. Beyond the glass barrier was a lush, green garden that didn't seem to belong at all in this harsh, desert climate. An atrium filled with numerous quaky trees and flowers was on the far side masking a mostly open staircase. Four large black couches were arranged in a square in the center of the room with an equally impressive stone coffee table between them.
Toby propped his elbow on the arm of the couch and smiled softly. “Morning, Rose." I nodded to my partner with a smile as I walked into the living room. Toby, Maynard, and Elena each sat on their own couch, while Karl paced eagerly around a jar containing the captured Sprite on the coffee table. I gravitated toward the side of the room that contained Maynard and Toby. Elena sat motionlessly staring at me. She had been ever since I emerged from the bedroom. A dark bruise still clung to her throat where I had choked her a few days before. Realizing I was staring at it, she buttoned up the collar of her blouse and lowered her gaze.
the same clothes I had arrived in. Slightly amused, I gazed in awe at my new ensemble. A bulky pair of gray sweats wrapped around my legs while a simple white t-shirt covered my chest. Someone had cleaned me up and changed my clothes sometime while I slept. I must've really been out of it. I glanced quickly into the shirt collar to see that my black tank top was gone. Whoever had done this had got a quick peek, too. I nervously pulled the waistband of the sweats out and found, to my relief, my black panties were where they should be. At least they had kept some of my dignity intact. I pulled the t-shirt up and noticed the wound had nearly healed. Only a dark bruise and a slight red crease wiggling up toward my collarbone remained. Almost all of the scorch marks, and the cuts on my arm from the glass were gone as well. Which made me wonder how long had I been sleeping. With another tentative stretch, I turned and slid off the edge of the bed into the thick carpeting. As I stood, a wave of dizziness washed down from my skull. Teetering, I braced my hand against the wall and closed my eyes. I waited for the feeling to pass. Licking my lips, I pressed my hand to my forehead. Usually after feeding, I felt ready to take on the entire world. This time, however, I felt like everyone in the world had taken turns kicking the crap out of me. "Must've been something I ate,” I moaned, thinking of Lucas. I had never fed from a Warlock before—or anyone magical for that matter. Perhaps there was something about them that gave Vampires a sour stomach. Maybe it was the blending of human and Inhuman physiology that created them. Unlike Witches, Warlocks weren't exactly human anymore. Or perhaps it was merely the power that coursed through his body. By ingesting his blood, I had taken some of that into me. Magic users had to train for years to make their bodies capable of channeling massive amounts of power. Maybe I simply couldn't handle it. That seemed like the most obvious answer. Once I opened my eyes, I stumbled toward the door unevenly. With each step I took, I started to feel a bit more like myself. Placing my hands on the door to steady myself, I heard voices on the other side. I pressed my ear gently to the door and listened. Clearly making out Maynard and Toby among them, they seemed to be in a very serious discussion. I felt myself smile at the sound of my partner's voice. My frown quickly faded as I heard Karl's helium inflated intonation, and then Elena's. What is she doing here?
Twisting the knob, I slowly pulled the door open. The bedroom opened into the massive living room dominated by dark wood, brick, and glass. The far wall was constructed completely of glass and stretched up to the top of the room's cathedral ceiling. Beyond the glass barrier was a lush, green garden that didn't seem to belong at all in this harsh, desert climate. An atrium filled with numerous quaky trees and flowers was on the far side masking a mostly open staircase. Four large black couches were arranged in a square in the center of the room with an equally impressive stone coffee table between them.
Toby propped his elbow on the arm of the couch and smiled softly. “Morning, Rose." I nodded to my partner with a smile as I walked into the living room. Toby, Maynard, and Elena each sat on their own couch, while Karl paced eagerly around a jar containing the captured Sprite on the coffee table. I gravitated toward the side of the room that contained Maynard and Toby. Elena sat motionlessly staring at me. She had been ever since I emerged from the bedroom. A dark bruise still clung to her throat where I had choked her a few days before. Realizing I was staring at it, she buttoned up the collar of her blouse and lowered her gaze.