I'll Be Damned (Anna Wolfe Series) (30 page)

“Martello,” I murmur.

He doesn't flinch. Micah flicks his wrist, sending Martello flying into the chain link fence a few feet away from us. I shriek, watching Martello slowly slide down it. My pain intensifies with each crackle of concrete Micah makes as he steps closer. 

“Ah, my lovely Anna,” he says in his silken voice.

I refuse to respond. Attempting to lift myself up on one arm, I watch Micah silently observing my battle with mind and body. Losing interest, he shoves me back onto the pavement with a large grin.

“Relax, love. No need in trying to escape. I can see your transformation is well under way and a tad painful, I might add,” he says, visibly amused.

He lowers himself in front of me, resting his elbows on his knees and allowing his fingers to dangle inches from my face. Pushing a strand of hair from my eye, he gently places it behind my ear. I cringe, pulling away from his touch, but he caresses my cheek with the back of his soft hand.

“Why are you so scared? I would never hurt you, love.” A devilish grin lights up his emerald eyes.

“You took Janie," I say in a shortened breath.

“You're correct, but she remains unharmed, no?”

“How do I know you haven’t harmed her?” I ask, the pain subsiding enough for me to speak.

“Anna, I may be many things, but a liar isn’t one of them.”

I snort. “You manipulate, hurt and torment people, but you don’t lie? I doubt honesty could exist in your repertoire.”

Micah’s face creases in irritation. His snakelike arms stretch from his body, wrapping his burly hands around my shoulders, and dragging me to my feet. My posture crumples under his crushing embrace.

“You insolent girl! Never question me!” he booms.

“Screw you,” I spit.

Micah
tsks
at me. “Anna, that’s no way to speak to me,” he growls.

His mossy green eyes glaze over into a shade of crimson. Without a word, he throws me to the ground, and hard. My arms scrape the pavement on contact, sliding helplessly over the loose gravel. I wince in agony, then, trembling, I fall to my knees, but not before making a half-hearted attempt to stand up. Between the muscle cramps and my skinned arms, my body is having a tough time, while expending a large amount of energy. Micah twists his hand, swirling his fingers into his palm. Dense smoke, the color of night, drifts off his open hand, pouring towards me. It surrounds me and suffocates every air particle in its path. Inhaling the thick substance into my lungs, I clasp my hands around my throat, choking. It slinks itself around me like a smiling enemy, burrowing itself into my skin. I claw at my arms, ignoring the raw sensitivity of my scraped flesh. My chest heaves heavily, sucking in more of the polluted air. Black spots dazzle my eyes, warning me I'm about to pass out. Micah stares at me, his face devoid of any emotion, like he’s done this a thousand times. His hand returns to his side, making the smoke disappear. He strides over to me, but I’m helplessly coughing while trying to swallow fresh oxygen like it's a scarce commodity.

"It's only a matter of time, my love. You will be with me shortly," he says before vanishing into thin air.

My lungs greedily guzzle the air as I kick his sweet threat from my mind. I glance at Martello, whose body lies lifelessly on the grass at the bottom of the fence. A dull ache stifles my heart. My lungs start to settle down as I scramble to my feet. I rush over to Martello and drop down beside him. Instinctively, I place two fingers delicately on his neck, praying for a pulse. A faint thump responds to my touch and a smile fills my face. Thank God he's okay. I seize his hand, and clutch it to my chest.
Please wake up, Martello, please
. Warm tears slide down my cheeks, collecting in pools by my knees. His finger twitches in my hand and I squeeze back, telling him I’m here. His eyelids flutter before opening. He surveys his surroundings, most likely trying to remember what happened.

“Girl, what is you cryin’ for?” he asks groggily.

“Martello!” I reach down and wrap myself around his shoulders.

“Damn it, woman, you’s smotherin’ me,” he says with a hint of laughter.

“I was so worried... I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you. Are you okay?”

“Please,” he says, waving at the air. “It’s gonna take a lot more than that fancy demon to get rid of me,” he says, failing to hide his concern.

Steadily, he sits up, gathering his strength with each calculated effort. I drape my arm around his back and nudge one shoulder under his arm. We lift slowly, careful not to stand up too fast.

“Girl, let’s go home. I had enough today.”

“I couldn't agree more.”

Martello sighs. “It woulda been nice if Valen was here. I bet Micah wouldn’t have paid us a visit,” he says in a woozy voice.

Where is Valen? Last we spoke, he was going to the Netherworld to uncover some information. My cell phone warbles in my pocket, dragging my mind away from him. I dig for it just in time to see Valen’s name scrolling across my screen. Martello unhooks himself from me with a sneer. Speak of the devil.

“Valen?”

“Anna, where are you?”

“At the shop. Martello and I were boarding up the place and Micah was kind enough to stop by,” I answer snidely.

“Are you okay?”

“We’re fine... well, not fine, but I'll tell you about it when we’re home.” I glance down at my cherry red arms, courtesy of Micah.

“What did Micah do? Are you hurt?” Valen stutters. His voice seems to be finding it hard to catch up with his thoughts.

“We're okay. We're leaving now so we’ll see you soon.”

I end the call, even though I know he’s still speaking. Martello shakes his head on the principal of respect, but screw that.

“Come on, let’s go,” I say, interlacing my arm in Martello’s.

We stroll to my car silently. Micah visited me in broad daylight. How does he do that? Shouldn’t he melt or something? His threat bounces around my head, stirring undesired fears. What will happen if he catches me? That night with him plays back in my mind, making me cringe. I remind myself it wasn’t really me… or was it? How the hell do I know? Maybe I was attracted to him and all he did was magnify it. There has to be a way to block his telekinesis. Now I realize that studying the book is priority for me to sort out all these questions. Learning more about telekinesis sounds like a perfect lesson plan right about now.

Random thoughts crowd my brain during the car ride home and I don’t have the energy to squeeze them in. Martello is sleeping peacefully, while I do a bang-up job of entangling my perceptions with the truth into one tight knot. I turn into my driveway, surprised to find Valen pacing on the front porch. Sighing, I park my car and wake Martello. He quickly saunters past Valen without so much as saying hello, and heads straight into the house. As soon as my foot hits the ground, Valen is in front of me, lifting me out of the car in a firm hug.

“Thank God, you’re okay,” he says softly into my hair, displacing small tendrils with his breath.

“I’m fine, just shaken up.”

He releases me, regaining his stoic composure by straightening his posture. He seems uncomfortable about his mishap. I step past him, not in the mood for any song and dance from him tonight.

“What happened?” he questions, trailing behind me.

I continue walking, unwilling to reply. He laces his fingers around my forearm, gently tugging me to face him. His arms wrap possessively around my lower back. My heart rate accelerates and my cheeks flush. My eyes close instinctively as I allow myself to fall into his embrace.
Arm’s length, Anna
. My eyes pop open, I gather my wits, and pull away.

“Valen, I’m sick of this,” I blurt out.

A look of misunderstanding crosses his face. “What are you talking about?”

Anger boils inside of me. How can he be so oblivious? “This,” I say pointing between him and me. “Us… our connection. One minute you’re all over me, the next, you give me wide berth. I don’t know what your game is, but I’m sick of it.”

“Game? Is that what you think this is, Anna?” he growls, invading my personal space.

His scent tickles my nostrils, threatening to crumble my carefully constructed wall. “What am I supposed to think, Valen? You reach for me with one hand while you push me away with the other,” I stammer. I hate it when my emotions intrude; they never know how to keep their cool.

“Anna, what do you want from me?” he asks, frustrated. Anger intensifies his masculine features.

“Nothing, I just want you to know that I’m done. Everything is strictly business, which means I don’t need your physical support from here on out,” I reply in an elevated tone.

I turn my back, unwilling to listen to anything further he has to say. I’m mad at myself for sacrificing his touch, but I have no choice. He’s a nasty addiction. The more he touches me, the more I need him; and I can’t afford to have my feelings bent out of shape over a man. Inside, I check on Martello, who is snoring loudly. I close the door gently, grateful to see him asleep. Screw Valen. I stomp upstairs and slam my door, before vigorously brushing my teeth with great annoyance. I climb into bed, determined to beat the crap out of sleep tonight. Minutes later, a soft knock on my door interrupts me. Crap, my outburst must have woken Martello. I jump from the bed, swinging the door open, while mentally preparing my apology. I’m surprised to find ice-blue eyes. My heart jumps. Traitor. 

“Valen.” I speak his name like it's the first time.

He doesn't respond, but steps forward, engulfing me in his arms before placing his lips on mine. He slowly parts my mouth with his tongue and I allow him to explore, returning his gesture. Butterflies race in my stomach as he lifts me by my waist. My legs wrap around him without any coaxing. His kisses intensify, becoming greedier and rough. He rakes his hand through my hair, resting it on the back of my neck, which he firmly squeezes. He presses my hips into his, and moans inadvertently escape from my mouth. He throws me onto the bed, smothering me beneath him. We continue to explore one another eagerly with our hands and mouths. His hand finds its way under my shirt, where it lands on my breast. With two fingers, he rubs and pulls on one nipple. Excitement shoots through me like a flood. My hips rise in desire, welcoming his every move. He presses on me harder, showing his excitement. He pins my arms beneath his, as I yelp in pleasure, ignoring any discomfort. His grasp becomes tighter the longer and deeper we kiss. I flinch, noticing how quickly pleasure can become painful. I don’t resist it, not wanting to stop. Abruptly, he pulls his face away from mine. I reach for him, but he shies away from my touch.

“I can’t do this,” he says sternly, leaping off me. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” I gasp, sitting up.

“Anna, it’s not fair,” he replies, pacing in front of my bed.

“What do you mean not fair?”

“I’m not good for you."

“How do you know what's good for me? Or who is, for that matter?”

“Anna trust me... I’m not a good person," he hesitates. "I’m a werewolf, a killer. I can’t trust myself around you.”

“I don’t understand. You said you can control when you change…” I counter.

“I can control changing. It has nothing to do with that. I’m scared I’ll hurt you,” he replies, raking his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Look at your arms, Anna.”

Doing as instructed, I notice dark purple bruises surfacing on my skin where he pinned me down. “So what? They’re only bruises, Valen,” I say, trying to appear indifferent. Their rapid onset does strike me as odd, however.

“For now they are, but who knows what else will happen? It’s hard for me to control myself around you. There’s something about you,” he trails off, pacing furiously in front of my bed. “I’ve never had to worry about it before.”