Chapter Nine
Run off again? A sharp pain shot up my side and into my neck, sending me sideways to lay back down to ease it. I don’t think so.
The Captain shot Fin a look, “Calm down.” Then he watched me with a furrowed brow. “Guess you’re on bedrest a bit longer. Don’t worry, it shouldn’t be more than another day or so.”
I pouted through my heavy exhale. The movement took so much out of me. “Why are you up and walking around after being shot, and I only break some ribs and I’m laid out for two days?”
“Maybe because you’re a half-breed mutant,” he said, “and neither of us know the extent of your powers, so we err on the side of caution and heal you in increments until you’re capable of throwing punches again. Also, I should add, you had a punctured lung and several broken ribs. You were a few minutes away from dying when we found you.”
I swiveled my hips to the side in order to square myself on the bed while Fin draped the blanket over my body. “Figures. You’ve probably been waiting all day to rub that in my face.”
His answering grin made me want to test out my punching abilities on his head.
Fin pressed my arm to the bed. “Save it for later.”
The Captain gave us both a little smirk and wandered toward the door. “Play nice, you two.”
“I take it back. He’s an evil, evil man.” I glanced up at Fin who wore a scowl as he stared down at me. “What is your problem? I’m laying down.”
He shook his head in disgust. Anger rolled over me and through me in the same way it had in the car. Before, I couldn’t even get a glimpse of his emotions, and now I was subjected to them constantly.
I closed my eyes. “How long until you can fix these wall thingys? Because if you’re going to blast anger at me every minute, I’m about to do the same to you. See which of us is the emotional one.”
A snort of annoyance came from over my shoulder.
Now was probably a bad time to ask for more food. My stomach let out a loud growl and I couldn’t stop the chuckle that bubbled up to follow it.
Fin crossed the room to get a plate from under a tray and brought it back to the bed. I locked eyes with him over the end of the fork.
A sort of falling sensation washed through me and I felt everything down our bond. His pride at being able to take care of me. Anger shimmering under the surface as if he was holding it back, waiting for the right moment to unleash it.
I swallowed the food, but it stuck in my throat, making me gulp to get it down. Fin’s emotions weren’t simple things to bear.
He brought another bite to my lips, but I shook my head. “I’m sorry, please, let me do it. You aren’t doing a terrible job or anything, but I can’t focus on eating when you’re throwing emotional softballs at my face.”
He blinked and went rigid. “What do you mean by that?”
“I can feel everything wafting off you through this stupid bond. It’s like you’re pelting me with every emotional disturbance popping into your head.”
He stepped back and crossed the room. The onslaught ebbed and I could breathe again when he wasn’t so close. I could get my own thoughts instead of his pounding into me.
“Is that better?” he called.
I gave him a thumbs up and took the plate to scoop more food into my mouth.
Once I had more than I could take, I sat the plate beside me on the bed and removed the pillow from under my neck. “How long do I have to lay here again?”
Fin’s voice came from the chair behind my head, which surprised me since I didn’t notice him cross back over to it. “Until it no longer pains you to move around on your own. It shouldn’t be much longer.”
The emotions he’d been battering me with had subsided and I stared up at the ceiling, wondering how to fill the awkward silence that grew between us.
Did he feel the same emotions from me? I hoped not. My mind was my own and when someone else breached it, I felt vulnerable in a way I wasn’t comfortable with.
Especially with Fin, given the plethora of feelings I harbored towards him. I couldn’t truly say I hated him. It wasn’t that simple. Nor could I say I loved him either, which made things infinitely more complicated.
I clutched the blanket to my chest and tried to let my thoughts go so I could rest.
“How about I tell you a story?” he suggested. “Maybe it will help you sleep.”
“Is it dirty?” I asked.
He snorted but ignored me. “There was once a young fae princess. She was betrothed to a man in a neighboring country, a human man who wielded magic.”
I sucked in a breath. “Was he a mage? Is this a true story?”
“Will you shut up and listen?” he said, but there was amusement in his tone. “On the day of the wedding, the fae princess rode across her country to meet with the human prince who somehow had magic. But, along the way, men attacked her. These humans dragged her from her horse, held her down, and did terrible things to her—.”
“This is supposed to be a soothing story?”
Again, he ignored me. “The princess fought with everything she had. She fought so hard she sucked what minor magic the humans had out of them, taking it into herself, thereby killing them. From that moment, it changed her. She was no longer a fae princess, but something darker and more dangerous. She rode to the prince’s palace and when she arrived, people turned out to meet her and cheer her wedding. No one noticed the darkness now lurking inside her. When she met the fair prince, she stole his magic too, swallowing it down into the black hole her soul had become. It took countless humans to subdue and finally kill her.”
When he stopped, I let out a long-held breath. “Is that it?”
“She serves as a warning to fae, on why we can never lose control of our power, or our emotions.”
He was telling me something with this twisted little bedtime story. Something he wanted desperately for me to understand.
I’d missed the point, I was so immersed in the sadness of his voice as he spoke each word.
If I were half fae and half mage, what did it mean for my emotional control? I’d lost myself to a good rage plenty of times, and I’d never sucked the life out of anyone. Nor their magic, I assumed.
I glanced around the room, wishing I could see his face right now. His anger still felt present, but muted, as if he’d tucked it away for the night, content on the bit he’d unleashed already.
Then a familiar ache started in my belly and I realized I hadn’t gone to the bathroom all day. Fin and my relationship was not ready for a moment like this. Yet, now that I acknowledged my need to pee, the need grew stronger.
I cleared my throat and sighed. “Can you help me go to the restroom?”
Something surged through the bond, but I couldn’t identify it before he reeled in back into himself.
I needed more practice with this thing.
He cupped my elbow and slipped his arm around my body. Once he had me seated, he grabbed a robe off a nearby chair and draped it around my shoulders. I cast off the blanket and tied the belt loose and low around my hips.
Expecting him to ease me off the bed so I could walk, I braced my arms on the table. Instead, he scooped me up against his chest, leaving me to flap my hands up around his neck for balance. A tingle of pain shot down my sides but quickly disappeared.
He carried me to the restroom and as he eased me down to standing my face burned hotter and brighter. “I can manage this part.”
Like he didn’t believe me, he lingered.
I waved my hands at him to shoo. “I’ll call you back when I need help, I promise.”
Thankfully, he walked out without a fight. I heard him settle against the door while I finished my business and leaned over the sink to wash my hands.
Once presentable, I called out for him. “Fin, you can come in now.”
He swung open the door, surveying me, the room, the floor. What did he expect? Me to die flopped over on the john? I took a step forward, but he scooped me up again.
When we got back to the makeshift hospital room, he deposited me on the bed slowly, as though he were reluctant to let me go. His fingers left warm imprints on the bare flesh of my legs. Despite the toweling wash he’d given me earlier, I still felt gritty and I hated it with him looking so immaculate in his gray t-shirt and jeans. Even with his bare feet which I had never seen before.
I obviously hadn’t had sex in way too long. Well, technically I’d never had sex, but it had been a long time since I’d fooled around, or even had an orgasm. It was the only reason for the sheer need rolling over me as he touched me, with not even a hint of impropriety.
“I’m going to remove the bandage here and replace it with a clean one.” His tone was bland, neutral.
He grasped my wrist and levered up my arms. Then he unwound the gauzy cloth around my breasts, all the while staring directly into my eyes.
When did replacing a bandage become practically erotic?
I shuddered out a breath and shook my head, embarrassment setting in. “Sorry for breathing in your face.”
I was panting, but who was counting?
“It’s fine,” he said.
I was left topless with my arms up, while he fetched a new bandage across the room. He barely spared my breasts a glance before winding the cloth around me again. Disappointment swamped me, but what did I expect? Him to ogle me while I was injured? Would I have done the same to him? I was embarrassed to admit to myself, maybe I would.
When he finished, he washed my arms, rubbing my skin briskly until I was clean and glowing in the low light of the room. Then he leaned in, cupped the back of my neck, and lay me down, like a dip during a dance.
After his hands were gone, I swallowed wave after wave of something bitter grating in my senses. It took me way too long to realize it originated from the bond between us.
He was disappointed. In me?
The thought shot a bolt of pain into my heart. Then he came back to the side of the bed, grabbed my chin hard in his hand, and forced my gaze to his.
Something peeled away inside me and it was there. The bond was a breathing thing between us. He was disappointed he couldn’t touch me more, touch me harder, feel his body beneath his. On the heels of that revelation, heat and need flared into me, so strong and powerful I clenched my thighs together, and all I can do was breathe through the intense pleasure.
I grabbed his wrist, squeezing, as the lust and need gave way to anger and seething fury at seeing me hurt, at me not listening to him, at my inability to accept help from anyone no matter what it cost me.
Tears poured down my cheeks and he released me, leaving me undone on the bed. He used the corner of the towel to wash the wet from my face, gave me a few sips of cold water, and then resumed his seat behind my head.
I was left with the residual emotions, both what he showed me, and my own. It took me ages to bring my breathing under control. Once I did, I slipped into a doze, Fin’s face swimming above me, his crystal shot eyes glowing in the dark.