Page 8 of Make Me Bleed (Sanctuary #2)
CHAPTER 7
MINE
T hat intensity of my nagging mate bond is almost as bad as the thirst was.
So much happened the day I found my beloved. There was the intervention, Julian’s first visit, my trip out to the woods where I ran from a moose, bit a bear, then ran from him… only to have Hank follow me to Bridget and Conall’s. Against my heart—and my loins—I let Conall send Hank away, not sure if I was hurt when he agreed to go… or amazed that he cared enough about me to deny his own instincts. Then I spoke to Bridget, she walked me home, and I caught Julian spying on from outside well after dark.
Is it any surprise that I refuse to leave the house for the next few days?
Until I can decide whether I’m willing to pursue the mate bond with Hank without being sure that I somehow tricked him into thinking I’m his mate, I can’t face him yet; considering he’s kept his distance, too, and my true beloved would find it nearly impossible, I’m becoming more and more convinced that his head cleared and the big bear realized he’d got the wrong female when he called me his mate. But just because I might’ve been wrong, too, doesn’t mean that I have any interest in accepting Julian’s offer to trade sex for blood.
He must know that watching me from across the sanctuary, coming by my house when he can sense I’m locking myself inside… that’ll never be attractive to another supe. He’s pushing me, and I don’t like it.
Even more, he won’t like it when I stop being the good vampiress and push back …
If it wasn’t for Bridget, I’d probably still be inside. I’m on the third season of Sex and the City —and, no, I’m not living vicariously through the females in the show, hopping from male to male while fighting the urge to run to mine —with three more to go. I’m doing just fine…
…but there’s no way I’m going to turn down watching The Lost Boys with the rest of the sanctuary.
Community-wide movie showings is something we’ve been doing lately. Gertrude has a collection of DVDs that we can choose from, and though I’ve never been inside the prickly porcupine shifter’s den, I can only imagine she brought a video store with her when she came to Alaska to hide out because there isn’t a move I can think of that she hasn’t produced for the ancient DVD player.
I don’t go to all the showings. However, anything that has to do with vampires is a weakness of mine. Bridget knows it, too. As soon as she mentioned that she was given the chance to pick tonight’s film and she went with the 1980s classic, I changed out of my pajamas and into one of my strapless dresses and a pair of stilettos.
That’s my parents’ training rubbing off on me again. It might just be a movie in the community room, but I’ll always look my best if I can. I style my hair, do my make-up, and walk with Bridget over to the delegated movie room.
One bonus? After the time one of the shifter children picked Twilight —to Bridget’s eternal amusement—none of the other vampires come to the showings. They’ve become shifter gatherings, with the only exceptions being Bridge and me. I won’t have to worry about their curious stares, judging eyes, or Julian taking the chance to confront me again if I’m around the others.
I’m kind of right. As I take my seat next to Bridget, a quick sweep over the room tells me that Julian hasn’t decided that, tonight of all nights, he wants to commune with the shifters of the sanctuary. None of the human donors have been given permission to attend, either. To my surprise, Conall’s missing, too, but just as Getrude warns us all that the film’s about to start and we need to shut our yaps, two stunning females slip in and take the seats at the end of mine and Bridget’s row.
Both of them are vampires. Clarice and Helen. One dark-skinned, the other as pale as I am, they both have mesmerizing hazel eyes, and a striking beauty that is undeniable. They perch daintily on the edge of their folding chairs, and of everyone in the room, I’m the only one they nod at.
Bridget notices, too. She elbows me gently. “Not replacing me, Elise, are you?”
I give my head a small shake. “I followed you to Alaska, Bridge. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
She grins. “Just checking.” Her gaze slides to the left. “I hope they know what they’re in for. The vampires in this movie aren’t anywhere as attractive as the ones I’ve met in real life.”
I lower my voice so that they can’t hear me. “I’m more concerned with why they’ve come at all.” After months of being ignored, it’s just too coincidental—and suspicious—that I suddenly seem to be a magnet for others of my kind.
Bridget shrugs, and right as Gertrude barks at Clive to turn off the lights, Clarice leans in to Helen and murmurs one word: “Julian.”
She meant for me to hear it. Why? I’m not sure. When I peek over at her, her attention is on the screen, waiting for the film to begin.
Unfortunately, Gertrude is having a hard time getting it to play. That’s not so unusual. The player has probably been in Dyea as long as she has, and sometimes it takes a little fiddling with to get it going. Al offers to help while Clive flicks the light switch back on so they can see what they’re doing at the front of the room.
I peer over at the two vampires again. They’re whispering to each other, only this time they’ve dropped their voices so far, I can’t make out a sound.
That irks me.
Sensing my unease, Bridget bumps my bicep with the point of her elbow. “Hey. You okay?”
I’m not sure. I can’t shake the feeling that they’re here because of me—and I don’t like it.
If I tell Bridget that, though, she’ll go over there and ask them what they’re talking about. As impulsive as the witch can be, she’ll do it, and think twice about barging in a pair of vampires’ private conversation later.
Since I don’t want that, I decide to turn the conversation around on her. “Hey, where’s Conall?”
She sighs, momentarily forgetting about what’s bothering me in favor of what’s bothering her. “In wolf mode.”
Ah. “Patrolling again?”
That’s what Conall does. He has this compulsive need to make sure that the borders are secure. He’s still beating himself up over how close the witch hunter got to Bridget, and whenever he feels like security is lax, he shifts to his wolf and goes searching for some sign that we have a threat lurking near Dyea.
“This isn’t because of Hank, is it?”
“Nah. If it was, he wouldn’t be so anal about doing his patrols. If the bear comes back, we’ll all know why.” If … “No. It’s something else.”
A prickle of nervous hits the base of my neck. “What do you mean?”
She sighs. “He thought he sensed someone testing the boundary spell.”
Oh, no. “Another witch hunter?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. He says the scent was faith, but definitely human. Witch hunters… they’re human.” Bridget sinks back into her seat. “I know what’s he’s doing. He’s trying to keep me safe. I just wish he’d hurry back so I know he ’s safe.”
I know what she means. Conall might not have gotten over the last witch hunter, but neither has Bridge. Her wolf managed to heal the gash in his side left behind from Linda’s silver knife. Doesn’t matter. Bridget’s concerned something like that will happen again, and I don’t blame her.
Her voice does turn slightly teasing as she grins at me. “Know what? You better get used to it, too. This is how shifters are with their mates and you landed yourself a bear .”
I know she’s just trying to take her mind off of worrying for her mate by mentioning the male he’s possibly mine. Still, without thinking, I say, “I don’t mind being protected. Not really. I guess it’s because I am used to it.”
It’s the truth. Of course it is. But also… it isn’t just protection that I want. Guaranteed safety. No… I want someone to love me for me. To adore me. To be someone’s everything. Someone who wants to shield me, not because it’s their duty, but because they can’t fathom the idea of living without me. Because I’m the most important person in their entire world.
It hits me then: if I left him, that’s what Hank would offer me. After all, he’s my beloved. The one male meant for me.
I’m his mate. The female he’s waited for… and who isn’t sure how to bridge the gap she’s built between the two of us.
However, before I can dwell too deeply on my sudden realization, Gertrude lets out a grunt of satisfaction. She calls for Clive to get the lights again, the movie finally starting.
A distraction. That’s what I need. A distraction?—
The air shifts. Despite the muted darkness of the room, I can tell that the two seats at the end of our row are empty now.
The two vampires are gone, and I spend the next hour and a half alternating between using the movie as a distraction… and wondering what the two females are up to.
I can’t sleep.
That is a recent development. At least, here in Alaska it is. Back in Clarity, I would go through stretches of insomnia whenever Peter would lurk outside the Sanguine. I could sense him, feel his brokenness reaching for me all those stories up, wishing I could figure out a way to get him to leave me alone.
I had to disappear completely across the country to escape the weight of his obsession. Even when the thirst was at its worst, sleep came easy. I used that as another escape, a way to avoid the ache that came with surviving without blood.
Now, whenever I try, I inevitably dream of a sexy male with dark hair, honey-colored eyes, and a cheek smile, crooking a massive claw on an oversized paw, gesturing for me to join him in the darkness…
What makes it even harder to handle is something that happened earlier today. Nearly a week and a half since he walked away from me. I’d accepted during the movie a couple of days ago that I would have to make a move, one way or another. Then… I didn’t.
I don’t have a good reason why. The longer I wait, the harder it will be to pretend the bond doesn’t exist. It might pull me toward him instead, but I rebel against that idea. Van Durens don’t beg. If he’s a predator who wants his mate so badly, why isn’t he here?
What is he finding it so easy to stay away from me when the only thing holding me back is my pride and the fear of being trapped in his dark den with no escape?
For the last ten days, my home has been my sanctuary. And then, this afternoon, it suddenly became too oppressive for me. I needed fresh air, and I decided to take the stroll that Julian denied me the afternoon I first met Hank.
But as though he has been waiting for just the opportunity, I saw the smirking vampire for the first time in days. Instead of speeding toward me, he leisurely headed for me.
We met in the opening between two other cabins. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see into the trees that surround Dyea. And while maybe I was looking that way to avoid having to see the expectations written in his flawless features, but I absently searched the woods—and I saw him.
I saw Hank.
He wasn’t in his skin. A large grizzly on all fours, the large bear was tromping along through the woods, almost as though taking the same path on the outside of the town as I was on the inside of it.
I saw him, my voice caught, and I completely forget about Julian. I think he might’ve even said something to me, but lust warred with panic inside of my head. Panic won it, I blurted out some nonsensical excuse, and turned back to flee toward my cabin, sending the thuds of the bear’s paw hitting the dirt a hundred feet away from me as he raced me home.
That was hours ago and I’m still keyed-up from the encounter. Especially since, after I let myself inside, a peek through the kitchen window revealed at the bear was still in the woods, as though waiting for me.
He disappeared hours ago, and yet… as I tie my robe tight, I can’t shake the feeling he’s there .
It doesn’t help that all of my senses are fired up, attuned to Hank. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s the bear I caught watching me from the woods. I only saw him in his fur once, but his mammoth size left an impression on me. Besides, it’s like my vampire ability to know when someone is lurking near my territory, heading for my door has been cranked up to eleven since I drank from him.
I just know that it was Hank. He was there, watching over me while still keeping some distance between us. It’s no less than what I’d expect from a predator like a bear, and I try not to be too pleased with the knowledge that he can’t stay away.
Like he needs to be near me.
Like I’m so close to facing the darkness to be close to him…
Hank doesn’t ask me to come any closer, though. He just waits, patient and certain, like his entire world hinges on whether I acknowledge him or not.
For now, this is as close as I can get to him. After pacing the living room, too restless and anxious to return to my bedroom, I eventually find myself on the back porch. With the door flung open and the light left on in the room behind me, I’m safely ensconced in the cocoon of illumination while bravely peering into the dark shadows out in the trees.
My throat tightens, fangs elongating as I catch sight of a bear-sized patch of impossibly black directly in front of me.
In the night, the sound of his bear chuffing at me—almost like a greeting—carries over to me on the still air. His head bobs. I lift my hand, caught in half-hearted wave, my heart beating like a drum against my ribs.
The clouds roll over the half moon, freeing it. A stray beam hits, landing on the large rock that takes up most of the clearing between my house and the trees. For a moment, I’m reminded of when I first found Hank sleeping out in the wild, where the thicker rows of trees grew in lines like matchsticks, and the open tracts of land were rocky and still snow-covered.
Then I peer closer, noticing something pale perched in the center of the dark stone.
If it was a new moon, or the cloud cover was impenetrable, I never would’ve had the nerve to do what I do next. The dark would be too daunting, too oppressive, but there’s enough light to guide my way, to the rock and back.
Whatever it is, it’s about as big as my palm. I scoop it, dashing back to the porch. The entire run takes less than five seconds, but when I peer into the trees again, the bear-sized patch of shadows have melded in with the rest of them.
As though he was just waiting for me to find what was outside, Hank is gone.
I step inside, closing the door behind me and locking it. Safely in the kitchen, I lift the object high so I can see it.
It’s a bear. Whittled down from a hunk of wood, it’s a carving of a bear.
And it’s a gift from my mate.
My beloved.
Mine.