Fractured (Deep In Your Veins, #5)(62)

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.