Fractured (Deep In Your Veins, #5)(43)

“Why don’t you all go outside and we’ll talk in a minute,” proposed Sam, but they didn’t.

Instead, Paige moved to Imani’s bedside and went to take the hand I’d just released. She froze when I growled a warning.

“Leave,” I bit out, snatching Imani’s hand before she could.

Her eyes narrowed at my arctic tone. “I know I’m not your favourite person right now. I understand why. But she’s hurt and I want—”

I leaned forward slightly. “I don’t give a shit what you want. If you remember, I told you that you weren’t to see Imani again until you’d come to apologise. As you can see, this isn’t the time.”

Paige sighed. “I know I messed up, but—”

Max put a restraining hand on her arm. “Don’t do it. His protective streak has hit critical levels and he’s barely holding his anger in. He doesn’t trust you, so trying to get near Imani while she’s vulnerable…it’s not smart.”

No, it wasn’t.

Paige hissed at him. “She’s my best friend and—”

“After the way you’ve treated her recently, I would never have thought so,” I clipped. She flinched as if I’d struck her. Shit, it was time to get out of there. “Call me when you’ve spoken to Lena,” I told Sam, lifting Imani into my arms. If she was going to go through the pain of the transition, she could at least do it in her apartment where she was comfortable and had privacy.

Sam nodded. “We’ll visit at dusk and see how she’s doing.”

Imani stirred in my arms, whining something unintelligible. I spoke low into her ear, “Shh, baby, it’s me. You’re okay, I’ve got you.” With a sigh, she settled, tucking her face into the crook of my neck.

“Jared will teleport you to her apartment.” Sam gave me a pointed look. “We’ll find a way to fix this, Butch.”

I nodded, because there was no other acceptable option. Imani had to live.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


(Imani)



I cried out in utter agony. Everywhere hurt. Every bone. Every muscle. Every ligament. Every tooth.

My eyes stung so badly I couldn’t open them. My chest was so tight it hurt to breathe. And my scalp was so sensitive it prickled each time even a single strand of my hair moved. Hell, it even felt like every vein in my body was throbbing with pain.

It hurt to curl up. It hurt to lie straight. It hurt to lie on my back, my front, and my sides.

God, what was happening to me?

Why was it happening to me?

Where was I?

I had to be dying. There was no other explanation. There was no way anyone could live through this pain. A pain that almost seemed familiar…like this had happened before.

I knew instinctively that only one thing would feel good. Feeding.

Nothing else would dim the pain, and nothing else seemed important. Just blood. Right now, I needed some badly. I was shaking with the need. Shaking and sobbing and begging. But I couldn’t get up. I didn’t have the energy or muscle control for that.

A shudder rippled down my spine, making me cry out again.

“Shh, baby, I got you.”

I knew that voice. Knew that scent. A body lay flush against mine as a hand drew my head close. I could hear a pulse beating, could hear the rush of blood through veins. I bit hard, moaning as blood filled my mouth. The taste soothed my throat and eased the cramps in my stomach.

More. I needed more.



*



I jumped awake with a gasp as pain pounded into my head, lungs, and abdomen. It took my breath away, caused my entire body to tighten in shock. The movement made me wince through my teeth and cry out. It still hurt to move even just a little.

How was I still alive? Maybe I was dead. Maybe this was hell. It certainly seemed like hell. My stomach was cramping and burning like it was on fire. My skin felt hypersensitive and raw, as if I’d been scratching in an effort to jump out of it or something.

I tried to open my eyes, but the light sent pain lancing through them. What the f*ck was happening to me?

Another gasp flew out of me as I was assailed by a full-body spasm that seemed to go on and on. I tried to shout for help, but only a tiny whimper came out. I wasn’t sure if I even could speak. My tongue felt thick, and my teeth and jaw ached as if I’d been chewing on a brick. Worse, my throat felt shredded, like I’d been screaming for hours and hours—maybe I had.

I was helpless. Too weak to get up. And in too much pain to do a single thing about any of it. I buried my face in the pillow, muffling my sobs.

Blood. I needed blood again. It was the only thing that would make the pain ease.

Fingers brushed my hair as a body lay against mine, careful not to get too close—as if conscious of just how raw my skin felt. “Feed, baby.”

There was that voice again. I did as it told me.



*



I shredded the bed sheets with a guttural growl. I was sweating. Aching. Thirsty. So thirsty that it drowned out the pain and confusion.

I needed to hunt. Find prey. There was prey here. I could smell it, could see it through burning, half-open eyes. But I couldn’t catch it.

With a hiss, I launched at it again, wanting that pulse beating in my mouth. I hit something hard and fell back, tasting blood—my blood. But it wasn’t my blood that I wanted. It wouldn’t quench the thirst that was hammering at me so hard there was no room for rational thought.