definitions of reality.
This was the moment I’d
been dreading ever since I’d taken up with him. I’d conned myself into believing
it’d never happen, and had turned myself into a fool.
We were at a juncture.
Leave now for his own good -- or stay for mine.
Inside me, my wolf
whined. He was the only person I’d ever loved. I couldn’t go, no matter how
much I knew I ought to. Maybe if I were more like him, I’d be that strong, but
I was just me – and I knew he’d have to ask.
“How do you know you’ll
be all right?”
I swallowed. “You won’t
want to believe me when I tell you.”
An eyebrow quirked.
“You’re an alien?” he said, dryly, his hands wringing the steering wheel.
“Worse. A werewolf.”
He barked a laugh.
“What kind of shitty joke is that?”
I looked at him
completely calmly. “I mean what I said.”
He twisted his whole
body to face me. “Prove it.”
“I just survived a
gutshot that hit my liver. What else do you need?” I held up my shirt. The
entry wound was already shrinking, soon it’d be like it hadn’t been there at
all. He reached a tentative finger out to touch the hole it’d left, like I had
stigmata.
His eyes met mine
again. “Show me.”
I shook my head. “No.”
If I showed him my wolf – there were rules, and then there were rules .
But I was cornered – and he wasn’t used to being told no. It was my own fault,
I encouraged him to boss me. “It’s why I’m gone three nights a month. I have to
hunt with my pack.”
“There are others like
you?”
I closed my eyes and
sighed. Maybe I had had some blood loss after all. “I shouldn’t have said
anything. The punishment for telling a human is death – for you, and me.”
He stared at me in
wonder as I put my shirt back down. “All those times – those fights – no wonder
I felt invincible around you.”
I smiled softly. “Not
invincible. Just harder to kill.” I tried to read his face, to see if I saw his
opinion changing. “You can never tell anyone. You have to take the secret to
your grave.”
“I will. I swear it.”
“Good.” I knew he’d be
true to his word. No one would even torture it out of him.
“I just -- I can’t
believe it. Are you sure that you can’t show me?”
“Yeah. But –“ I licked
my lips and his eyes met mine again. There was something different there now.
He wasn’t scared -- and he still wanted me. When he looked at me like that, all
my blood sank, getting ready. “Maybe there’s something I can show you.”
He nodded eagerly.
“Take me home, first.”
Vincent drove more
cautiously up to our house. He kept looking at me like I might go away, and I
kept worrying. It’d seemed like a good idea at the time – but what if he
changed his mind?
What had I done?
Telling him about us – even if there was no reason for him to tell another
living soul, and no one would believe him if he did – it was such a huge risk,
such a completely bad idea – he put the car into park, and without saying a
word, both of us walked inside. He followed me into the bathroom.
“I want to see the rest,”
he said, looking meaningfully at the bloodstain on my shirt.
I turned my back to him
and lifted it off. He made a surprised sound, and then I felt him touching me.
I wanted to lean back into his arms and let him hold me, push me against the
wall and –
“You really are –“ he
whispered.
I swallowed my
thoughts. “I really am.” I angled myself in the mirror so I could see what he
saw. I was bloody around the exit wound, but it was healing, and the entry
wound was almost gone. “I’m going to take a shower, and let Mother Nature
finish up.” I reached into the shower and turned the hot water on.
“Sure,” Vincent said,
and kicked his shoes off.
I tilted my head.
“What’re you --“
“I saw you thinking
about leaving in the car.” His hands went for the top button of his shirt. He
was spattered with my blood.
I leaned against the
cold
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