Half Truths (A Helheim Wolf Pack Tale) (12 page)

BOOK: Half Truths (A Helheim Wolf Pack Tale)
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One grimy window
had been broken. So that’s how they’d got in. Rhett walked over the
glass-strewn carpet to peer outside. The window backed onto the alleyway behind
her building; the fire escape ladder left hanging down at the bottom. Rhett
sniffed the decaying wooden window frame, trying to pick up a more specific
scent of the wolf who had broken into her place, but they’d been gone too
long—the scents from the dumpsters below too strong to discern anything.

With a curse, he
stepped back from the window, accidently dragging his hand along one jagged
edge of glass still being held in place by the frame. Everything happened so
quickly then. He sucked in a hiss, inspecting his palm for any slivers left
behind just as a threatening, rolling growl filled the room.

He looked up
from the deep cut in his palm. Indi was standing so close to him that he could
actually see her indigo irises being swallowed by her pupils until her eyes
were completely black; lips peeling back from sharp canines amplifying the
sound that was coming from Indi’s chest.

She was hungry.
She was hungry for his blood.

Swallowing down
on his now hammering pulse, he edged away from her and headed for the kitchen.
If he could just wash away the blood, the need would disappear. Indi followed
him with her wild, bottomless black eyes; her head ratcheting around in an
unnatural way. He’d never seen a vampire lost to their bloodlust before, and it
was as scary as all fuck.

Not taking his
eyes off her, he walked backwards towards the kitchen, glancing back every few
seconds to make sure he didn’t run into anything. Indi continued to stalk him,
moving silently through her apartment, her eyes unwavering.

Her fangs had
grown to their full length now. Two-inch long canines gleamed in the light. Her
predatory expression sent a lick of fear up his spine. He could fight her—of
course—but he’d hurt her, and he didn’t want that.

Licking his dry
lips, he said, ‘Indi?’ He was hoping that some of her humanity was still in
there, somewhere. She didn’t respond. It was almost as if a switch had been
thrown and Indi was now a mindless animal. It was almost as if she was lost to
her own beast like Rhett could be when he wanted to forget about being human
for a while.

‘Indi?’ he tried
again, his voice firmer and louder than before. Ignoring him, she licked her
lips hungrily, staring at his jugular. Her black eyes were endless; devoid of
any common sense, devoid of everything except her hunger. His blood was calling
to her just like it had in the alleyway the night of her transformation. He
realised with painful clarity that she was an addict to it even if she didn’t
know it.

Rhett exhaled,
trying to keep his heart beating regularly, refusing to let fear take over any
more than it already had. Twisting the tap on at the sink, Rhett put his hand
under the flow, washing the blood off his hand. He gave his back to Indi for a
full minute before turning off the water and holding a towel against his palm.

He turned around
again; the edge of the counter biting into his ass. Slowly, he drew his eyes
back to hers. Her chest was heaving up and down like she’d just run a marathon.
‘Indi? Are you okay?’

Her eyes were
still black, but she blinked rapidly, and when she met his gaze again, her eyes
were violet. Her hand went to her head. ‘What just happened?’

Rhett worked
hard at acting normal. ‘You need to feed,’ he replied, opening the fridge and
pulling out a baggy to put in the microwave. ‘Go and sit down.’

She nodded and
disappeared around the end of the bookcase. When she was gone, Rhett shuddered
and slumped against the cabinets. That had been too close. She had almost lost
her control and she would have killed him if she had. With the whir of the
microwave in his ear, he pulled the towel from his palm to find the cut already
healed. He threw the towel down before digging around in her cupboards for a
clean mug. Eventually he found one, filling it with Indi’s warmed blood.

Rhett wandered
out to find her curled up on the couch, her legs tucked up tightly under her
body. She was staring at nothing, lost in her own thoughts until she smelled
the blood. Her nostrils flared and she looked up.

‘Drink this,’
Rhett said, sitting down next to her. Indi hesitated a second before taking the
mug carefully, putting it to her lips and taking a sip. ‘How is it?’ he asked.

‘Cold,’ she
replied, still taking another sip. She looked over at the window. ‘Someone
broke into my apartment,’ she said, trembling slightly.

‘I think so,
yeah.’

She frowned as
she took another sip from her mug. ‘But who would bother to climb up three
storeys to my apartment where I have a ruined couch, a shitty TV and a twin bed
that squeaks?’

‘I don’t know,’
he shrugged. ‘A junkie, maybe?’

‘Could it have been
a vampire?’ she asked. ‘Is that why you went all wolfy on me?’

‘Yeah, maybe,’
he lied. Indi took the last sip from her mug, standing up to take it back
through to the kitchen. When she didn’t walk away immediately, Rhett glanced
up. Indi’s face had drained of colour; a fine sheen of sweat breaking out over
her face and neck. Very fine tremors were shaking her body as she tried to walk
away.

Rhett’s stomach
twisted anxiously just like it had done before she’d left for work that
morning. ‘Indi? What’s wrong?’ he asked, refusing to think the worst.

She shook her
head without looking at him, swallowing convulsively. A cry of pain escaped her
lips, her hands going to her stomach, clutching it like she was in agony. The
mug dropped from her hands, spattering the already dirty carpet with fresh
flecks of blood.

‘Indi?’ Rhett
asked again, reaching for her. She looked up at him then; her eyes churning.
‘Sit down,’ he told her, trying to push her back down onto the couch. She shook
her head furiously, and ran off towards the kitchen.

Rhett followed,
his heart pounding in his ears. Indi had only just managed to get to the sink,
her body shaking with the effort of bringing up all the blood she’d just drunk.
He rushed over to her, pulling her hair away from her face and holding it
clear.

Indi retched
again. A river of blood spewed out of her body and into the sink, splashing up
the sides. Her fingers clutched at the sink’s edge; skin stretched tight over
bone. When Rhett looked closely at the blood in the sink, he noticed that some
of it was black. He could sense his wolf sniffing at the air, and with gritted
teeth, he pushed it back down again.

‘Indi? Indi?’
Rhett called frantically, but she wouldn’t respond. Her body shuddered again,
more and more blood coming out of her mouth and coating the sink’s surface. He
had to do something. He was supposed to be looking after her, but he didn’t
want to admit to anyone that he wasn’t up for the job.

Letting out a
frustrated growl, Rhett began digging his phone from his pocket, but stopped
when he realised they’d take her away from him if they knew she was sick.
Sliding it back into his pocket, he did the only thing that he could do:
comfort her. Rubbing slow circles on her back and murmuring softly to her each
time she moaned in pain, he waited out her vomiting fit. For twenty long minutes,
blood poured out of Indi until her knees gave out and he had to support her
weight at the edge of the sink.

She was still
conscious when Rhett pulled her away from the sink. Touching the back of his
hand to her forehead, he felt how clammy her skin was.

‘Rhett,’ she
croaked as he picked her up. Her eyes were open, but only to slits.

‘It’s alright,
Ind. You’re alright,’ he muttered, knowing that he was wrong. She wasn’t okay.

‘I’m tired,’ she
breathed. He nodded.

Laying her down
onto her bed, the metal frame groaned and the mattress squeaked under their
combined weight. He placed a hand on her forehead again to see if anything had
changed. The action caused Indi’s forehead to pucker.

‘Don’t baby me,’
she managed to say in a breathy voice. ‘I just need to sleep for a little
while. I’m tired from work, that’s all.’

He stayed with
her until her breathing evened out and she was asleep. Taking the blanket from
the end of her bed, he covered her with it before heading back to the kitchen.

He stared at the
blood-coated sink, trying to figure out how she’d only drunk a pint of blood
yet brought up what had to have been double, if not triple, the amount.

Digging around
under her sink, he found some bleach and cleaned the kitchen for her. When he
was done, he walked back into the living room to clear away the glass from the
broken window. His nostrils flared when he brushed past the curtain, kicking up
a scent he hadn’t caught last time. Inhaling deeply, his brain sifted through
the elements of the scent until it came up with an answer.

With a growl, he
realised it was one of the Dragos wolves that had been in there. He shuddered
to think what would have happened if she’d gone home earlier without him, or if
he hadn’t been there, or if Indi had been home alone. Nowhere was safe for her
now except for the farmhouse.

When he checked
on Indi, she was shaking violently—her skin freezing to the touch. She needed
warmth, and he just happened to be a portable heater. Rhett curled up beside
Indi and she instantly relaxed into his arms. As she slept, he thought about
the crazed look in Indi’s eyes when she’d smelled his blood. There had been
nothing human left in her when her hunger took over. Now he understood why sharing
blood with vampires was so dangerous. Now he understood why addiction to
lycanthrope blood was so bad. The vampire just lost themselves to it. There was
no other way to explain it.

Indi moaned
softly in her sleep like she was in pain. Rhett pulled her in closer to his
body, hating that he was now thinking about sex now while she was clearly in
pain. She moaned again, but this time it sounded as if she was trying to say
something. He positioned his ear closer to her mouth, straining to hear the
words she was mumbling.

‘Indi?’ he
whispered. ‘What is it? What do you want?’

She turned in
his arms suddenly so they were now facing one another. Although her eyes were
still closed, her mouth parted seductively, revealing the tips of her fangs,
sending a rush of desire through Rhett’s body. Licking his lips, he asked her
again what she wanted.

‘You,’ she
moaned, pressing herself into him, moulding herself into his body. Rhett’s cock
jerked at the connection.

‘What do you
mean, you want me?’ he asked shakily.

‘I want you,’
she groaned again, her eyelids fluttering. Her mouth was suddenly on his. He
was shocked into stillness. Indi nipped at his lower lip, coercing him to open
his mouth to her. Her tongue explored his mouth, her lips like some kind of
drug he couldn’t get enough of. He groaned into her mouth, which only made her
press her breasts closer to his chest.

He skimmed his
hands down her ribs and waist. His fingers brushed the waistband of her pants,
finally settling on the skin of her lower back. He pulled her hips closer,
grinding his erection into her stomach. He wanted it much lower. He wanted it
pushing against her core. And as if she’d heard that thought, she whispered
‘Yes’.

An even fiercer
burning column of heat blasted through his body. It was desperation dressed as
desire. He had wanted her for so long, had been fighting it for so long that he
felt his fingers slipping on his self control.

With his fingers
dipping dangerously below the waistband of her pants, common sense came
flooding back. Like a wet blanket on a fire, he realised why he couldn’t do
this.

Ashamed at
himself, he untangled Indi’s body from his, and slid from the mattress;
slumping to the floor and leaning against the bathroom door so he could still
see her. Indi stayed where she was, still sleeping peacefully. He touched his
bottom lip. It was still tingling from where her mouth had been. But his
stomach lurched when he realised that he would never be able to do that again.
That was his one and only slip up, and he wouldn’t ever let it happen again.

Chapter
7

 

 

 

 

 

Larissa smiled at her building’s
doorman on her way into the lobby. ‘Hey Barry,’ she said, forcing the smile to
stay where it was. His returning smile nearly split his face in two. Barry was
young—probably just some college kid trying to earn a little cash—with the
build of a string bean topped with a mop of mousy-brown hair.

‘Larissa,’ he
breathed reverently. She cringed on the inside. She knew he had a thing for
her.

‘How’s it
going?’ she asked, pausing just for a moment to talk to him. Barry flushed; the
colour creeping up his neck.

‘I’m good. You?’

‘Fine, thank
you.’ She glanced at the door to the stairs. ‘Well, I’m beat. I’ll see you
later Barry.’ She smiled once more at him, making a beeline for the stairs. Going
to the gym was a distant memory now that she was working with Vaile on such an
erratic schedule, so she took her opportunities for exercise when she saw them.
She hadn’t realised that detective work required phone calls at strange hours
of the morning, or sacrifices to her health.

The apartment
building she lived in was only a few years old, having been built by a major
player in construction in Buxton. The guy had made the news recently, but had
fallen off the radar shortly after. He’d lost his hand in an “accident” he hadn’t
ever elaborated on. Vaile had worked the case, but closed it when Mr Wright—the
victim—remained tight-lipped on the topic.

The hallways
were decorated tastefully with a neutral colour palette that made the narrow
space feel bright and airy. Between the doors of the different apartments were
bright prints from famous artists, and near the doors to the elevators were
potted plants that seemed to improve the feel even more.  

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