Page 51
Story: Enzo
“You’re going to make your hands bleed if you keep scrubbing that hard.”
She continues scrubbing vigorously without acknowledging me. Glancing over her back, I take in the spot she’s rubbing. There is no blood there.
“I think you can move on from that spot,” I joke.
She stops, slamming the brush against the wood a few times, before slumping forward as if she’s tired. I notice for the first time her soft sniffles. Walking around to get a better view of her face, I see the red tears tracking down her cheeks. She’s crying. Damn, I wasn’t expecting that. The sight of her tears makes me feel weird. Even my wolf doesn’t know what to do. He’s pacing inside of me.
“Do you want me to do it?” I ask because I don’t know what else to do.
She shakes her head.
“It won’t matter. The blood has already settled into the wood.”
“Well, isn’t that a good thing? You guys like blood, right?”
She sniffles, using the back of her hand to wipe her nose. “This is dead blood. It reeks and it will only get worse as the days pass. Old blood has a rotten smell, but old dead blood is ten times worse.”
I didn’t smell anything but the metallic scent of blood. However, I’m not a vampire.
“Sorry,” I say lamely.
She shrugs. “It’s all good. Go back to bed, Beta.” She goes back to scrubbing the wood planks.
“Why won’t you leave? I’m not being an asshole.” I try to explain. “This is a genuine question. Why put you and your sister through this if you could just leave?”
She stops scrubbing, turning her head to me. Her face isn’t neutral now. There isn’t much emotion, but it isn’t that unbothered stare she usually has.
“Because she means the world to me, and I will do everything I can to protect her.”
I assume she is talking about her sister. Whoever this person is after the youngest vamp is truly someone to fear.
“Could the fiancé be the one in town draining bodies?”
She pauses, looking down at her hands. I wait for her to respond.
She turns to me and shrugs. “I don’t know. But I highly doubt it.”
She then goes back to scrubbing the wood. I leave her alone after that, walking back into my home. I stay up all night listening to the sound of bristles feverously scrubbing against wood.
chapter thirteen
Get It Together
Michaela
Ihad a moment of weakness last night. It had nothing to do with the blood. Although the scent was horrible. The breakdown was more about seeing my sister hurt, knowing I’m the reason she’s going through all this. Despite Markis being insane, I’m still the reason we are where we are. Me and my secrets. I shouldn’t have kept looking for that fey key. No matter what my intentions were.
Shaking out my achy hands, I step up onto the sidewalk. I spent the entire night trying to get rid of the blood smell on the porch. It didn’t help, but I knew it wouldn’t. It’s going to require more than scrubbing.
However, I didn’t have time to worry about it. I was out in the town of Jonesville. I need to see those bodies.
Walking into a diner, the bell over the door rings. The folks look up at me, their suspicion written all over their face. I make my way over to the counter and take a seat. The smell of old grease and fried food hits me.
“Can I start you off with a coffee?” the server asks as she slides me a sticky menu.
“No thank you,” I say. I didn’t have time for food. Locking my gaze with the woman, I smile. “Tell me where to find the house of the slain family?”
Without her control, she answers my request. “Five miles past the post office. A ranch style white house with a red door in the middle of nowhere. Police tape is all over it. The bodies are over at the county morgue.”
She continues scrubbing vigorously without acknowledging me. Glancing over her back, I take in the spot she’s rubbing. There is no blood there.
“I think you can move on from that spot,” I joke.
She stops, slamming the brush against the wood a few times, before slumping forward as if she’s tired. I notice for the first time her soft sniffles. Walking around to get a better view of her face, I see the red tears tracking down her cheeks. She’s crying. Damn, I wasn’t expecting that. The sight of her tears makes me feel weird. Even my wolf doesn’t know what to do. He’s pacing inside of me.
“Do you want me to do it?” I ask because I don’t know what else to do.
She shakes her head.
“It won’t matter. The blood has already settled into the wood.”
“Well, isn’t that a good thing? You guys like blood, right?”
She sniffles, using the back of her hand to wipe her nose. “This is dead blood. It reeks and it will only get worse as the days pass. Old blood has a rotten smell, but old dead blood is ten times worse.”
I didn’t smell anything but the metallic scent of blood. However, I’m not a vampire.
“Sorry,” I say lamely.
She shrugs. “It’s all good. Go back to bed, Beta.” She goes back to scrubbing the wood planks.
“Why won’t you leave? I’m not being an asshole.” I try to explain. “This is a genuine question. Why put you and your sister through this if you could just leave?”
She stops scrubbing, turning her head to me. Her face isn’t neutral now. There isn’t much emotion, but it isn’t that unbothered stare she usually has.
“Because she means the world to me, and I will do everything I can to protect her.”
I assume she is talking about her sister. Whoever this person is after the youngest vamp is truly someone to fear.
“Could the fiancé be the one in town draining bodies?”
She pauses, looking down at her hands. I wait for her to respond.
She turns to me and shrugs. “I don’t know. But I highly doubt it.”
She then goes back to scrubbing the wood. I leave her alone after that, walking back into my home. I stay up all night listening to the sound of bristles feverously scrubbing against wood.
chapter thirteen
Get It Together
Michaela
Ihad a moment of weakness last night. It had nothing to do with the blood. Although the scent was horrible. The breakdown was more about seeing my sister hurt, knowing I’m the reason she’s going through all this. Despite Markis being insane, I’m still the reason we are where we are. Me and my secrets. I shouldn’t have kept looking for that fey key. No matter what my intentions were.
Shaking out my achy hands, I step up onto the sidewalk. I spent the entire night trying to get rid of the blood smell on the porch. It didn’t help, but I knew it wouldn’t. It’s going to require more than scrubbing.
However, I didn’t have time to worry about it. I was out in the town of Jonesville. I need to see those bodies.
Walking into a diner, the bell over the door rings. The folks look up at me, their suspicion written all over their face. I make my way over to the counter and take a seat. The smell of old grease and fried food hits me.
“Can I start you off with a coffee?” the server asks as she slides me a sticky menu.
“No thank you,” I say. I didn’t have time for food. Locking my gaze with the woman, I smile. “Tell me where to find the house of the slain family?”
Without her control, she answers my request. “Five miles past the post office. A ranch style white house with a red door in the middle of nowhere. Police tape is all over it. The bodies are over at the county morgue.”
Table of Contents
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