Fractured (The Deep in Your Veins Series Book 5) (17 page)

He honestly didn’t, and that just pissed me off. “That’s a load of crap. You know that, right? The first night you announced your intentions to me, you said you don’t know how to make people happy. You make me happy.”

His expression called me a liar. “Baby…”

“It’s true. Sometimes it’s simple things, like when you cook my favourite meals or run me a bath without being asked. Then there are big things, like taking care of me during the transition and making my safety your priority. You’re always there when I need you. Oh, and you give first class orgasms. Just sayin’.”

His mouth curved into that lopsided smile I loved. “You happy enough to stick around?”

“Totally.”

He kissed me, savoured me, until I melted into him. Tapping my ass, he said, “Come on.” He led me to the living area, where we settled on the sofa. “Here.” He grabbed my Kindle from the table and handed it to me. “I’m going to watch the game. You’re going to stay with me and just relax.”

So—tired and eager to read a book that had recently been released—that was what I did. Until I received a text message from Fletcher. I gasped. “Ryder’s awake.”

Butch’s eyes shot to me. “About fucking time.”

I jabbed him with my elbow. “It wasn’t Ryder’s fault he was in a freaking coma. According to Fletcher, he’s a little weak right now but he’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

“At which point he’ll mind-swipe Marco, Tait, and Juliet and tell us who the fuck hurt you.”

That was the hope. “I think—” I paused as a knock came at the door.

Sighing, Butch headed straight for it and swung it open, revealing David, Max, Salem, and Chico.

“Hey.” David smiled as they walked in, like it was their regular hangout. When Butch just looked at them blankly, David added, “It’s your turn to be host.”

“You forgot,” guessed Chico, pulling out his cell phone. “No worries. I’ll order pizza.”

“Don’t forget chicken wings, potato wedges, and onion rings,” said Max.

Soon enough, my living area was packed with Butch’s squad members. I ended up sitting on his lap to make room on the sofa. Others settled on the floor or hauled in the breakfast bar stools. As I watched them interact, I quickly realised that this was a guy apology of sorts. It was a shit one, in my opinion, but I supposed if
one
alpha had trouble apologising, a whole bunch of them at one time were bound to be shit at it.

I drowned out all the noise, concentrating on my book. Though I did pause to eat two slices of pizza and a few onion rings.

Once the game was over, David—who was sitting beside me and Butch—gave my leg a little shove. “How’ve you been, Imani?”

I smiled. “Good. I’d feel a whole lot better if everyone here who’d been utter dicks to Butch would actually make a real apology. This version of one is totally crap and it ain’t gonna fly with me.”

David’s mouth twitched into a smile while Salem grunted, seemingly in agreement. The others all looked at each other, rolling back their shoulders and cricking their neck.

Chico cleared his throat. “Imani’s right, Butch. We were dicks.”

I waved my hand, encouraging him to continue because, yeah, that wasn’t good enough.

“We should have had your back but we didn’t,” added Chico.

“And you’re sorry,” I prompted.

A muscle in Chico’s cheek ticked. “And we’re sorry.”

Half-placated, I looked at the others with an expectant brow. “You’re going to make Chico do all the work?”

Reuben straightened. “I was out of line, asking you to leave the arena. Totally out of line. I won’t insult you by trying to make excuses. All I can say is that I swear I’ll always have your back in the future.”

“We took our protectiveness of the girls a little too far,” Harvey admitted. At my snort, he added, “
Way
too far. That’s not an excuse, though, I know.”

Denny nodded. “Judging you like that wasn’t fair, and it won’t happen again.”

The image of self-recrimination, Damien spoke. “I was a total ass, and I had no right to say the shit I said.”

“I won’t lie and say I think my concerns were unfounded,” said Stuart. “They weren’t. But it still wasn’t my place to voice any of them. And I truly am sorry for not giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

“We won’t blame you if words aren’t enough for you,” said Max. “We’ve got to show you we mean it, and we will.”

I looked up at Butch, who surprisingly seemed to be stifling an amused smile. “What do you think? Shall we give
them
the benefit of the doubt, even though they didn’t do the same for you?”

His amused smile broke free. “I guess we could.”

“Yeah. They’re not too bad at grovelling, are they?”

Affronted, Max objected, “We don’t grovel.”

David snorted. “It was impressive. Maybe not as impressive as Imani’s behaviour in the arena, though.”

Oh, how males moved on from emotional moments so quickly.

“I gotta say, Imani,” began Damien with a grin, “when you called Sam’s blood, I was totally envious. That would be a cool ability.”

“I thought you might lose your gift,” said Stuart, swirling his NST. “I wasn’t expecting you to develop another.”

“I don’t think I did develop another,” I told him.

Chico frowned. “We all saw what you did.”

“But it’s not a gift. It’s just…something weird.” Something I didn’t like.

Harvey smiled. “Whatever it is, it’s awesome.”

“How did you do it?” asked Denny, fascinated. “How did you call the blood?”

“I didn’t mean to. When Sam started to bleed, I recognised the scent, and suddenly the taste was in my mouth…like a sensory memory.”

Butch curled my hair around his fist. “You fed from her during the transition.”

Well that explained it. “I couldn’t stop looking at the blood. But I didn’t have an urge to leap on her.”

Reuben bit into his pizza. “Why do you think you can suddenly do it?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Butch gave my hair a playful tug. “Lena said the serum could cause side effects. Maybe this is a side effect.”

Chico put down his beer-flavoured NST. “See if you can do it now.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I’ll cut my arm. You call the blood.”

I jerked back. “Hell, no! I don’t want to call people’s blood to me.”

“But you will, Imani; you might not
mean
to do it, but you will.” Butch’s voice was gentle. “And you’ll keep doing it unless you learn to control it. So start learning.”

It was hard not to growl. “This is
so
not the definition of winding down.”

Butch kissed my temple. “You need to learn how to control this, baby. You know it’s important.”

I sighed. “Tomorrow, okay. We’ll go to the arena tomorrow and I’ll practice. Let me have the rest of tonight to relax.” That wasn’t too much to ask.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

(Imani)

I’d kind of hoped Butch would forget about my agreement to practice calling blood, since the idea of watching Chico cut himself seriously didn’t appeal to me. But when we woke at dusk, Butch was quick to remind me of our little agreement. And since Sam and Jared thought the whole thing was a good idea, I had no support from their corner.

As such, no sooner was I dressed and well fed than Butch was ushering me to the arena. I ensured he knew I was there under sufferance, but that didn’t appear to bother him. Apparently his squad hadn’t forgotten about the agreement either, because they were already waiting at the arena with Sam, Jared, and my squad.

I walked to Jude. “I’m surprised you’re okay with this.” She didn’t look at all reluctant to stand there while her mate wounded himself repeatedly. But then, Jude did have a fondness for knives.

“You won’t be training with Chico. You’ll be training with me.”

I stiffened. He did
not
just say that. Slowly, I turned to face Butch. “You’re not serious.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Call me weird, but I don’t want to watch you hurt yourself.”

“This is necessary. You know it.”

Paige put a supportive hand on my shoulder. “You can do this, sweetie. He’s right; it’s necessary that you get a grip on this.”

I rounded on her. “You’re
siding
with him? Well, thanks, Judas.”

“Stop talking to Paige so we can get started,” interjected Butch. “
Now
, Imani.”

Rubbed the wrong way by that order, I gritted out with a false smile, “Sense the danger of continuing with that tone.”

“You’re just trying to start an argument so you can stalk out of here in a huff. Did you think I wouldn’t see right through it? Do I look stupid to you?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

Growling low in his throat, he turned to the others. “Everyone move.”

They all backed away, giving us plenty of space as we faced each other like two cowboys having a showdown.

“Concentrate,” said Butch. “Sense what triggers the call. Then you’ll know how to block it.” In a blink, he whipped off his shirt, snatched a knife from his waistband, and then sliced his chest.

Taken off-guard by the speed in which he’d acted, I did nothing more than wince at the sight of his injury. I had a strong stomach, but one thing made me cringe—the sound of a knife cutting into flesh. It was like nails on a chalkboard for me.

“You’re not concentrating,” growled Butch.

Yeah, well, the wound had closed before I had the chance to act anyway. In any case… “I didn’t feel a pull toward the blood.”

“I’ll make the cut deeper this time.” He sliced his chest again.

Cringing, I balled my hands up into fists. “You need to use a different weapon. I hate knives.”

“Hey,” whined Jude, offended on behalf of sharp implements everywhere.

When the wound healed, Butch took a tissue from Reuben and wiped away the excess blood—the scent of it was in the air, teasing every single vampire in the arena. “Again.”

“There’s no point; nothing’s happening.”

“Because you’re not concentrating. You’re overthinking it—obsessing about the wound.”

Yes, I was. “I’m not doing this. I can’t stand here while you slice yourself over and over.”

“Then call the blood and get this over with. I’m not stopping until you do. Think about what you could do with this, Imani. It might not be an ability, but you can damn well use this in a duel. It can be a good thing. But it can be a bad thing if you’re accidentally calling the blood of people you care about. They could weaken or, worse, bleed out.”

God, he was so right. How annoying.

“Is that what you want?”

“Of course not,” I snapped.

“Then focus. Ready?” He didn’t wait for me to answer, just carved a deep line into his upper chest, a little beneath his collarbone.

My back teeth locked at the sound and sight, but I didn’t let myself think about who the chest belonged to or how fucking weird this was. I just concentrated on the blood, took the scent deep into my lungs, thought about how good it would taste, how thirsty I was starting to feel, and how—

“Well, shit.” Paige’s awed words pulled me from my thoughts. That was when I realised Butch’s blood had dripped all the way down to his waist.

“That was good,” praised Butch as he took a clean tissue from Reuben and wiped his chest clean. He looked at Sam. “Did you notice it?”

She nodded, face grim.

I frowned. “Notice what?”

“When you’re calling blood, the rim of your eyes have the slightest silver glimmer to them,” replied Butch. “It happened last night, but it disappeared so fast that I wondered if I’d imagined it.” He moved closer to me. “I think it’s because you drank Sam’s blood. I think it caused some changes.”

I shook my head, confused. “Vamps drink from each other all the time; it doesn’t change them.”

“That’s because vampires
can’t
change; their bodies are frozen. But during the transition, your body wasn’t. You were
changing, and you had the blood of Sam, Jared, Antonio, and me running through you. That’s a powerful combination. It’s probably what kept you alive. It hadn’t occurred to me that Sam’s blood would cause any changes within you.”

“I’m different because of the serum. I’m not a hybrid.”

“No, you’re not a hybrid. Your system evolved into something that is stuck somewhere between human and vampire. But Sam’s blood triggered some changes.”

I didn’t see how calling on blood was in any way related to Sam.

“Look at the facts,” said Butch. “Your blood tastes different. You can call blood to you. And sometimes the rim of your eyes briefly glow silver…or mercury.”

Jared stepped forward. “You said her blood tastes different.”

Butch nodded. “There’s a slight fizz to it.”

“Sam’s blood has a sherbet-quality to it,” said Jared.

Butch looked at Sam. “You call on energy, in a sense.”

She shook her head. “I
feed
on it.”

“Since becoming a hybrid, you haven’t had to suck in energy to use it,” Butch pointed out. “It comes to you. You call it without trying.”

Her brows lifted. “Never really thought of it like that.”

Paige sidled up to me. “But Imani isn’t calling energy.”

“Of course not,” said Butch. “She’s not a Feeder, so her ability isn’t energy-based.”

“My gift isn’t blood-based,” I said.

He arched a brow. “Isn’t it? You can sever blood-bonds.”

I sighed. “They’re psychic constructions.”

“Constructions that are born from blood. Can you sever other psychic links?”

“No, only blood-bonds.”

“So, your gift is blood-based.”

Shit, he was right.

“I agree with Butch,” Jared told me. “Sam’s blood caused the changes.”

Sam winced. “Sorry, Imani.”

I forced a smile. “At least now I have an explanation.”

“Whatever gave you the ability to call blood, it’s a fucking cool ability, Imani—I don’t care what you say.” Harvey wasn’t the only one who looked impressed.

Denny turned to Butch. “How does it feel when she calls it?”

Butch rubbed at his nape. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Come on, dude, try,” said Damien.

Sighing, Butch said, “It was almost like a heavy weight was tugging at my veins, pulling at my blood…like a magnet. I could feel my heartbeat in my head, could hear it pounding.” He curled an arm around my shoulders. “What was the trigger for the call?”

“There wasn’t one. I just concentrated on nothing but the blood.”

“I know this is gonna piss you off…but you need to do it again.”

I froze. “Butch—”

“Doing it one time isn’t enough. We keep practicing until this is under your control. It needs to be second nature for you. Okay?”

“What-motherfucking-ever.”

“So charming,” chuckled Paige.

We practiced for hours. Jared and several members from the squads took part, eager to know what it felt like. I did pretty well. I focused and persevered, pushing past my discomfort at the knife. I
had
to or I’d be calling people’s blood accidentally. In a battle, that would be bad. And I fully intended to be part of the upcoming battle, whether Butch liked it or not.

After lunch, we all had a regular training session with Sam and Jared in the rainforest, during which Sam and Butch practiced extending their shields. I was exhausted by the end of the session, and I tried hard to conceal that I’d tired much sooner and easier than the others. Tried and failed, because Butch and Paige saw it clearly enough. Thankfully, neither rubbed salt in the wound.

When Butch and I returned to our apartment, we showered and changed. Dinner was a pretty quiet affair, and I knew it was because he was trying to think up ways to stop me from going to visit Marco. I couldn’t really blame him for that. I didn’t want to waste minutes of my life with the dick either, particularly since he could be the person who tried to kill—

“You’re not eating.”

I blinked. “I was in deep thought.”

His perceptive eyes narrowed. “You were thinking about Marco. He’s the only person who makes you look that pissed.” Butch put down his fork. “You don’t have to see him. No one would judge you for backing out.”

“Trying to talk me out of it?”

“Hell, yes. Going to see him is pointless, baby. He won’t tell you anything.”

I reached over and threaded my fingers through his. “I understand why you don’t want me to see Marco and give him another chance to play games, but it has to be done. Like it or not, he’s our only real hope of finding the answers we’re looking for.”

“And he’s loving that,” said Butch. “He’s loving the power it gives him.”

“I know, but—”

“And he’s loving that it gains him access to you. He’s not going to give up that power easily.”

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. But I have to try.”

With a heavy exhale, Butch leaned back in his seat. He kept a firm grip on my hand. “Ryder will be scanning his mind tomorrow night. Why not wait and see what he finds in there?”

“Because the poor guy’s just woken from a coma. Take it from someone who has a psychic hand—traversing through a person’s head is not at all easy. It’s also pretty uncomfortable. While he’s tired and unbalanced, it’ll be hard enough for Ryder to scan three minds. He’ll need time to recover before he can do a thorough scan of Marco’s mind, which means there’ll be a delay in getting the information we need. We can’t afford delays.”

Butch looked away, clearly intent on brooding. It was almost cute.

I squeezed his hand. “Look, I know this is hard for you. I don’t like it either. But you’d do the same in my position.”

His jaw hardened and I thought he’d argue again. Instead, he sighed. “Fine.”

Apparently he was learning the need to respect my choices. Progress. “It’s not—” The rhythmic tapping of knuckles on the door made me smile. There was only one person I knew who knocked like that. “It’s Fletcher.”

Still sullen and broody, Butch grunted. Whatever.

Putting down my fork, I hurried to the door and opened it. Fletcher and Norm both pranced inside, beaming. They did those air-kissing things. Noticing Butch, they each waved at him. He tipped his chin at them.

Fletcher leaned close as he asked me quietly. “What’s he sulking about?”

But Butch heard him. “I do not sulk.”

“Of course not,” Fletcher assured him. “No one would ever imply otherwise.”

I blinked as Norm thrust a bag at me. “What’s this?”

“I saw it and immediately thought of you,” Norm told me with a wink.

It had to be raunchy underwear. He liked to pick things like that up for me and the girls. With a smile, I delved into the bag and pulled out something black and soft…and my stomach sank.
Fuck
.

Instantly sensing my mood shift, Butch blurred to my side. “You okay, baby?”

No, I wasn’t. “I was wearing this vest in my vision.” That meant the battle could happen at any point from this night onwards.

Butch cursed. “Call Sam.”

After assuring a distressed Norm that he hadn’t done anything wrong, I called Sam’s cell phone. Like Butch, she cursed…only she did it better and with more creativity.

“We still don’t know when the attack’s coming,” began Sam, “but we’ve ran out of time to really prepare for it.”

“No, we’ve trained harder than we ever have before.”

“But we don’t know whether that will be enough against a drove of fire-breathing creatures. Imani, I don’t mean to pressure you, but we really need you to get something out of Marco.”