Silent Cravings (34 page)

The door to the apartment slammed open, and before the sound of it rebounding off the wall had reached their ears, Mouse did the same with the door to Christoph’s room.

As soon as she spotted John, she was moving again, her nails biting deep into his shoulders and spattering Christoph with a bit of blood as she roughly tore the vampire away from the wall.

John was too surprised and hurt to let go of Christoph immediately, so they tumbled to the floor together.

Mouse slammed her booted heel down on one of John’s wrists, a brittle snapping sound cutting the air before he screamed and released Christoph to clutch at his broken wrist. Before the pain fully sank in, she leaned down, her hand closing vise-like around John’s throat, cutting off his cries as she bared her fangs.

Wesley arrived in time to see her throw John and Christoph to the floor. His eyes widened, but he didn’t step in to either help or stop Mouse.

He knew better.

Christoph didn’t realize he was scrambling backwards until he slammed against the wall again, nearly braining himself. So far Mouse had been Chick With Big Boobs Who Is Awfully Nice. Now she was Scary as All Hell Chick With Red Eyes and Big Fangs. Christoph was in full panic mode and, if he’d been able to, he would have been getting pretty fuzzy right about then.

He’d never been so scared in his life.

Ashi felt like crying. He scurried into the apartment, found a fairly shadowy corner, and promptly hid in it.

It was ironic that in a place very far removed from his pack, in a situation that no Were could ever in any pack’s wildest dream be in, his Were instincts were kicking in.

Or it was just raw fear. Either way, it was a nice corner.

Clarisse watched him, puzzled and a little annoyed. With a last surly look in Ashi’s direction, she went back to the couch and un-paused the movie. If he felt like being social, he could join her, but she wasn’t about to go out of her way to be nice to someone who had made it very plain he didn’t care a whit about her or her kind.

John wasn’t making much sound around his crushed windpipe. He stared wide-eyed up at Mouse, who silently mouthed at him:

He’s mine.

John nodded as best he could around her hold, trying desperately to agree. He wasn’t used to feeling this much pain. He hadn’t been hurt like this since the first World War. It was
blinding
.

With a whisper-faint growl, barely heard, Mouse slammed him down hard enough to crack the floorboards, releasing him. She blinked away the heat in her eyes as she twisted around to see if Christoph was okay. Her anger rapidly shifted to concern, ignoring John’s pitiful whimpers as she rushed to kneel at Christoph’s side, lightly brushing her fingertips over his jaw and his wrists to check for any signs of bruises, cuts, or bite marks.

Wesley took advantage of her momentary distraction to rush into the room, grab John under the arms, and haul him out. If John
had
hurt Christoph, Wesley wanted him out of the way so she couldn’t put him out of commission for a month or more.

Christoph recoiled from Mouse, gaping in terror as she reached for him. This was too much for him to handle. First, a vampire attack. Then a vampire-on-vampire attack. And now the one who won the dominance battle was in his face. It was Mouse, yes, but it was also the thing of his nightmares.

Analie thought of who she could possibly borrow clothes from that would fit Freddy. All her new stuff was too feminine. Christoph would probably be willing to give up a pair of pants and a shirt, but his clothes would be massive on Freddy’s spindly frame.

Ashi and Freddy were about the same height, Ashi being a little shorter. They were certainly not the same build, but Ashi wasn’t Mr. Universe. He was the most likely candidate for clothes-borrowing.

But then there was that problem of Freddy scaring the crap out of Ashi. It was likely he wouldn’t feel terribly generous.

She’d worry about it later. At least Freddy had moved out of the den-bed and was sprawled in the middle of her room. She sat against his side and rummaged through the box he brought.

Mouse withdrew after her own initial panic subsided. The blood on Christoph’s face and shirt was all John’s, and she couldn’t find any nicks or bite marks. It didn’t take long for it to register that he was still terribly afraid, even though she’d dealt with the immediate threat John represented.

Christoph was afraid of
her.

That was the last thing she wanted. She withdrew, spreading her hands and trying to look as small and harmless as possible. She’d done the same thing she always did when faced with a threat—beat the ever-living shit out of it. It hadn’t occurred to her that the display might scare Christoph, only that she needed to make quick work of it.

The way he reacted to her made her feel even more like the monster she was trying so hard not to be. The one Max Carlyle made her into.

She bowed her head and rapidly retreated, sickened by her own actions. Her self-loathing was overwhelming enough that even the hunger sparked by utilizing her incredible strength and speed against John was diminished by it. She couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Christoph. Not while he looked at her like that. Not while the scent of his fear so maddeningly teased at the hunger that marked her as the beast Max always told her she was. So she fled, even while a little voice in the back of her head mocked that she was only delaying the inevitable, promising that he had good reason to be afraid.

Wesley hadn’t gotten John’s limp frame far when Mouse hurried past, looking more like she wanted to cry than kill somebody this time. He continued dragging John along, growling under his breath at the whiny wimp’s inability to suck up the pain and walk his own skinny butt back down to his apartment.

Clarisse was annoyed.

It wasn’t the movie. More that she couldn’t concentrate on it. Not with Ashi “hiding” in the corner, shivering and radiating the unmistakable odor of fear.

She turned and frowned some more at Ashi, crammed into the corner of her living room, and pondered what to do about it.

After Mouse had fled, Christoph slowly got up and went into the bathroom to shower. There was only a little blood on him, but now seemed like a good time to boil himself lobster-red and relieve some of the muscle-knotting tension in his body.

The way she’d looked at him was confusing. Was there some sort of mutual fear going on? Christoph felt bad that the thought made him feel better about Mouse’s display of strength and viciousness. At least she didn’t go after
him
.

Analie heard Mouse enter the apartment and moments later slam the door to her room. Feeling nervous, she patted Freddy’s head and poked her head out. She ventured into the hallway and slowly picked her way up the stairs.

Ashi peered up at Clarisse. God, he was really learning to hate it when people stared at him.

A thousand snarky things to say flitted through his mind. He kept his mouth firmly shut, figuring silence was preferable over getting one of the few people who was willing to help him annoyed with him.

Clarisse harrumphed and tried to ignore the strange little donor in favor of concentrating on the movie. It was pretty hopeless at this point, since his scent and elevated heart rate were like a clarion call to her inner predator.

Another woman, blond and statuesque, came out of one of the bedrooms and strode toward the kitchen. She got about three steps into the living room before her attention was abruptly centered on Ashi. She plastered on a sultry smile and shifted to assume a languid pose leaning against the nearest doorframe as her eyes hungrily roved over what she could see of him.

“Well, well. So this is the other new blood, aye? Looks like a tasty bit.”

Mouse went to her bathroom and washed away the blood on her hands, but couldn’t seem to stop shaking or rid herself of the mocking voice in her head telling her that she still was, and always would be, a monster. Why not take what she wanted instead of playing these stupid games of making her donors befriend or love her? No one would think less of her for giving in to her nature.

No one but herself.

Ashi couldn’t help it. He glared at the other woman. “I’m not a ‘bit’.” He practically spat out that last word, his hands clenching into fists.

Yes, pick a fight with what’s probably a vampire. Nice work.