Page 51 of Bloodbane

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

The Taste of Copper

{ R U B Y }

Golden light covers me, kissing my skin and filling the infinite abyss surrounding me. Cocooned in a soul-soothing peace I’ve never known, I allow myself to drift without resistance. If time exists here, it holds no significance.

I float.

Warmth prickles along my nerves.

The edges of my vision darken and bubble, burning away my golden halo like a film reel set alight. The serenity sheathing my skin turns sharp, and then…

I’m on fire .

Agony flares white-hot, eating through flesh and blood and bone. I want to scream and thrash, to claw at my skin and strip it off, but I can’t move. Disjointed images flash through me—strange symbols, glowing eyes, silver chains, and a flame-haired woman covered in oceans of blood. Distorted voices stab into my brain, too loud and too quick for me to find words or meaning. Forcing my mouth open takes every ounce of strength I have, but I need to scream, to call out to Thayne, to Grayson, to the universe itself—someone, something, anything to give me mercy, to end my pain.

To let me die.

All I can summon is a desperate gasp roughing over the sandpaper of my throat. It pushes my pain even higher, but it’s enough. The fingers sweeping through my hair are a contrast to the brutal anguish engulfing my body, and knowing I’m not alone is a salve to my soul.

I fight desperately to focus on the familiar voice ghosting over my ear, using it to drag myself to the surface of consciousness.

Warm liquid patters over my face. It splashes over my cheek, my nose, and finally drips over my lips. The taste of metal slides over my tongue, and the odd pressure in my mouth rides the boundary of pain, my teeth slicing through gum.

My eyes fly open. Red spills from flesh hovering six inches above my face, and I grab for it instinctively—desperate fingers claiming it, bringing it close enough to sink my teeth into.

Pleasure lights up my body like a million fireworks igniting at once. Salvation streams from the wound, sweet and thick, extinguishing the fire in my throat and neutralizing the acid burning through my veins. More images flicker in front of my eyes but I ignore them, too intent on the ecstasy gliding over my tongue. I suck harder, greedily, my body throbbing in time with the pulse under my lips.

I want more, need more, but a hand fisting my hair yanks me back. The growl bursts from my throat unbidden as another hand wrenches my prize away. My teeth rip through flesh as I fight to keep it. The shout of pain pierces the bloodlust in my mind, and pushes back against the voice inside me commanding me to drink… to drain.

The cry is familiar. Someone I know. Someone I love. Someone… Someone… Who ? My mind is a divergence of nebulous clouds of confusion and too-sharp sensory input, but after a frustrating moment of searching, I find the answer: Cooper. The pained cry had come from Cooper.

I bolt upright on the table, eyes darting wildly around the kitchen. The light burns my eyes, whiting everything out like an overexposed photograph. I blink against the onslaught until my eyes find focus and I almost wish they hadn’t. I’m reeling, struggling to take in too much information. Cooper is standing before me, like an over-sharpened 4K version of himself—every pore and wrinkle and mole too defined, his red-rimmed eyes too saturated, the thumping of his heart too loud. I drag my attention from the pulsing vein in his neck to see him rubbing fingers over a dark scar on his forearm. I reach for him, but he flinches away.

“He’ll be fine,” Grayson answers my unspoken question dismissively, sweeping his hand through my hair again. “How are you feeling?” Grayson’s voice is rough and low, stroking over my skin like a caress. A shiver dances down my spine.

“I’m—” I swallow thickly. The taste of copper still lingers on my tongue. “I don’t know,” I reply truthfully.

I don’t feel like myself. The forced-slow breath pulled in through my nose does nothing to ease the tightness in my chest, just adds to the noise in my head. Everything is too much, too loud, too strong. The repeated banging of bodies against wood, the rushing of blood flowing through Cooper’s veins, a dozen rapid heartbeats fluttering out of time, wolf scent and sweat and blood and my own arousal… an inescapable frenzy I can’t escape.

I’m going to explode, I’m sure of it; I’m not strong enough to hold all of this inside. Everything feels wrong, like my skin doesn’t fit right—stretched too thin, struggling to contain all the new sensory input.

“Why is everything…” I don’t know how to put what I’m feeling into words.

But Grayson, staring down at me, face pinched tight, seems to understand. “All of your senses have become heightened. It takes some getting used to.”

The kitchen shakes—pots and pans rattle, glasses fall and smash—as wolves continue to charge at the reinforced door with enough strength to make the wood creak. The frenzied barking and scratching compete with the stabbing voices in my head.

Landon stands guard by the front door, coat bloody, ears pricked, no doubt waiting for the inevitable: for the wood to splinter and fail and let Evander’s pack into the house.

“What takes some getting used to?”

“I’ll explain everything,” Grayson promises. “But Draven is still outside with what’s left of his pack, and that door won’t hold for long.” Calculating eyes rake over me. “Are you tempted to rip open anyone’s throat?”

“Why would I—” I hesitate. Grayson’s words paint vivid images in my mind: teeth tearing through flesh, lapping at the rush of life spilling from the wounds. Excitement and revulsion battle within me. My teeth are aching again, making my clit throb. I can almost taste the metallic liquid cascading down my throat, and a new, strange part of me craves it. I want to smother myself in it. To feast and fuck in a sea of crimson. But I wouldn’t hurt Thayne or Cooper. I couldn’t. I take a slow, deep breath, but it doesn’t extinguish the embers of doubt.

“Ruby?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Grayson’s shoulders sag slightly at the words, and he cups my face with both hands. “Good. That’s good.” His thumbs brush the corners of my lips.

The hands on my cheeks are tacky with blood, but that’s not what makes me startle. Grayson’s skin no longer feels cool against mine. Panic swells inside me like a rising tide.

“What happened? Why do I feel so…” I gesture helplessly, “different?” Wrong.

“Because you’re dead.” The words burst free from Cooper like a dam breaking. “I mean, you’re not now, but you were, you died. I killed you. I’m so, so sorry!”

“You… killed me?” My jaw goes slack. Of course: dead, cold, blood… Grayson.

“It was an accident!” Cooper bristles. “And it was mostly your fault. You just kind of jumped in front of me and…” He winces, his eyes losing focus as if reliving the moment. “I’m so sorry, Rubes! But Grayson saved you, and you just took most of my blood, so I think we’re pretty much even.”

“I’m a…vampire now?” I feel stupid for even asking. Of course I am. I hadn’t stopped to question the fact I was drinking blood, but… I’d drunk blood. Blood blood. Now that the moment has passed, it seems like something I should have questioned. My stomach clenches, and I clamp my jaw shut—I do not want to revisit my… meal . Oh, god. I press a hand to my mouth.

“Not entirely. I only used a drop of venom, just enough to restart your heart. Think of it as a biological defibrillator.”

“You knew that would work?”

“I was hoping it would be enough to bond to your lycan blood and…” Grayson turns at the crash of the door as a furry snout breaks through the splintered wood. “We really don’t have time for this. You’re alive, that’s all that matters, the rest we can figure out later.” Grayson moves to Thayne, sinking to his knees and running a bloody hand over the chest wound, using his other to brush through the fur, checking for more injuries.

“He doesn’t look good.” I slide smoothly off the table before leaning against it. My whole body feels like it’s pulsating under my skin, vibrating with…I don’t know. Something I’ve never felt before. It feels good.

Thayne whines weakly as Grayson rubs more blood over his injured foreleg.

“Lycans heal fastest when shifted, and barring any further attacks, even with the severity of his wounds, he should be fine by sunrise. But we don’t have the luxury of waiting. We have to take the fight to Draven, but I doubt the pack will survive in their current condition.”

I notice the tremble weaving through Grayson’s body as he moves over to Ash and presses his hand to the gaping gash on her flank. The fact that he doesn’t have to reopen the wound on his hand registers in my brain as a bad sign.

“You don’t look in great shape yourself.”

“Shifter venom. It’s slowing my healing.”

“Can’t you drink from Cooper? Heal yourself?”

“Hey! No, Rubes. You don’t get to offer me up like I’m your personal blood bag!”

“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it. But you’re the only one here that can heal him so he can heal everyone else.”

Cooper looks toward Ash.

“No, Cooper’s right. He’s already given you all he can afford to lose. He’s human; it’s going to take some time for him to replenish his blood volume. If I take any more from him, it could kill him.”

“I would like to avoid that if possible,” Cooper interjects. “It did not look fun.”

“It’s the best I can—” Grayson breaks off, staring at me. “ You .”

“Me? Me what?”

“You’re at least part vampire now; your blood may be able to heal them.”

I am on my knees beside Thayne before Grayson can finish his sentence. “How do I…” I make a crude fang gesture with my fingers in front of my lips.

“Do you remember how it felt to bite Cooper?”

The memories wash over me, warm like Cooper’s blood, and I feel the pressure as my teeth—no, my fangs —push down. I press my tongue to the peak, but it doesn’t slice open as it had against Grayson’s inside the station.

Grayson comes to me at human speed, unable to hide the spasms wracking his body. He drops to a crouch, unable to hold back the groan as he does.

“Thirst, anger, and arousal are all triggers, and your fangs will descend automatically. But you can draw them down and retract them at will when you need to,” he murmurs. “You just have to focus.” A large hand wraps around my wrist and lifts it to my mouth. “Slice open your palm with your fang, then press it to Thayne’s wound.”

The pain I expect as I rip through my flesh never comes. I can feel the tear in my hand, the slight give of skin, but nothing else. I stare down at the liquid pooling in my palm, shining obsidian in the light. Black blood. Grayson’s blood.

“This is normal now, right?”

“You have both shifter and vampire blood, and as far as I know, you’re the first of your kind. There is no normal anymore.” Grayson smiles fondly. “But then, there never was with you; you’ve always been extraordinary.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the pleased little smile curling my lips. “Grayson? This will work, won’t it?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Grayson presses my open hand to Thayne’s chest.

Red-stained fur turns black. Thayne’s heart is beating quickly beneath my hand, and the longer it lingers, the stronger the beat becomes. But there’s something else, too. I lift my hand to find ragged muscle sending out tendrils of connective tissue to its severed half and slowly cinching back together, becoming whole before torn skin starts to do the same. It’s incredible—a time-lapse video happening in real life. A strange pride swells inside me. It’s not as quick as Grayson’s almost instantaneous healing, but this is my blood helping Thayne.

An odd sensation, like pins and needles, flickers through my palm. I curl my fingers inward before stretching them out again, spreading and flexing, watching the muscles and tendons dance under unblemished skin.

Ruby!

Thayne lifts to his feet, rushes forward, and licks at my face.

You’re okay!

Thayne’s voice threads through my mind as clearly as if he’d spoken. But, he didn’t… he couldn’t. Suddenly, the clamoring inside my head makes sense, and my building anxiety breaks on a breathless laugh as I push Thayne’s face away and wipe my own with the back of my hand. But I can’t wipe away my smile.

The voices aren’t voices, they’re thoughts—Thayne, Ash, Layla, and Landon—and I can hear them all.

“Ruby?”

Shaking my head at Grayson, I run my hands through Thayne’s fur. “I can hear them. I can understand them.”

Grayson motions toward the deep scratches on Layla’s belly. I drop a kiss onto Thayne’s head before moving to heal the first of the twins.

“Well, would you look at that, the tide’s turning; some good luck for a change. Now you can fill me in on Thayne’s Plan C.”

I don’t need to look at Thayne to hear his answer. There’s authority to the thought-voice now, and the words make me want to drop to my knees and submit. But the bubbling panic in the back of my mind helps me fight the thick molasses-like pull of the order. I shake my head vehemently.

“No, Thayne, that’s…”

“Let me guess,” Grayson cuts in, “he wants to go out there and take on all the shifters by himself.”

“No, just one. He thinks if he defeats Evander, Alpha against Alpha, the rest of the pack will leave.”

“Don’t be stupid, Thay. If Draven wins, all the wolves attack at once, and we won’t have you to fight with us.”

Thayne pads over to Grayson before sitting at his feet. He tips his head up, staring Grayson in the eye.

“He wants you to trust him.”

“This isn’t some back alley fight. I know you’re strong, but you’re not immortal, and you’re limited by morals that Draven is not. If you command the pack not to interfere, and that bastard has all his mutts attack you, I’m not strong enough right now to save you this time. He’ll kill us all and take Ruby anyway. Do you really want to risk that for alpha pride?”

Thayne growls low in his throat.

“He’s saying—”

“No, I know what he’s saying,” Grayson growls back.

He strides to the door, muttering under his breath. The pack scampers out of the way, their coats dark and matted, but all wounds healed. Ash and the twins plant their feet on the wooden floor, drawing back, ready to spring, waiting. Thayne takes his place behind them. I take my position on Thayne’s left, and Cooper scrambles to grab his gun before mirroring my position on the right.

Grayson draws to his full height, spine snapping straight as he grips the wooden block barring the door.

“I know I’m going to regret this, but ready or not…”