The Frenzy Series (Book 2): Frantic (15 page)

Hopeless.

Strong arms lifted me. Legs strode toward my room. My mattress and blankets cradled me. I shivered.

Cold.

So cold.

I lay awake, shivering. Staring at the window. I couldn’t see the moon.

The sky was desolate.

Closing my eyes, I willed sleep to come.

It had abandoned me as well.

Morning came with no fanfare. The sun rose, the cocks crowed, but no one stirred inside Roman’s home. Tage’s shallow breathing came from behind me. His arm rested on my waist. He held me all night. I let him.

“Are you warm? Your teeth aren’t chattering anymore.” His voice was raspy in the morning.

“I’m comfortable now. Not too warm and not too cold.”

“Goldilocks.”

“Hmm?”

He smiled. I could hear it. “It’s an old story about when something is just right.”

“Yeah, I’m just right.”
Why is your arm around me?

As if sensing my unspoken question, he eased it away. I breathed and relaxed the muscles that had been stiffer than wooden planks. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.”

He grinned and rolled onto his back, folding his hands behind his head. “Liar.”

“I’m not lying. I
was
comfortable.”

“Pants on fire,” he said. I looked down.

“They are not.”

He chuckled.

Tage suddenly growled and leapt from the bed, tugging a sweater over his bare chest. “You stay in this room, understood? Stay until I come for you.”

I didn’t hear anything, but Tage’s reaction meant someone was here. Sniffing the air, I sat upright.

“Promise me,” he demanded.

I crossed my arms. “Fine, but you should hurry. I’m not very patient right now.”

He nodded and ducked outside my room, pulling the door closed behind him.

I stayed in the room for a long time, longer than I thought I had the willpower to. I heard voices. Sometimes I could pick out Tage or Roman’s, although Dara’s was easiest to discern. But one was deeper than the others. Foreign.

I pulled on my coat with quivering fingers; Goldilocks no more. I was freezing. And hungry. Always hungry.

Easing the door open, I listened.

“You can’t stay here, Julian.”
Roman
.

Julian?

“There are plenty of people from which to feed,” he replied haughtily. His accent was strange, abrupt, and harsh.

“We have a treaty with the humans in Blackwater. We don’t feed whenever or on whomever we would like,” Roman explained.

“You barter with them for their blood?” Julian asked incredulously. “Why not just take it?” He didn’t understand that the treaty was good for both parties. The humans wouldn’t have to live in fear, and the night-walkers were guaranteed a meal in exchange for being the watchdogs of the forest. What was so wrong with that? However, Julian acted as if the entire scenario was absurd.

“We want to live peacefully,” Roman said forcefully. He was angry. He smelled of it; all musk and blood and red.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t feed when you need to! That’s ridiculous. We are superior to the humans.”

Julian sniffed the air. I could hear his nose move now that I was closer. Why couldn’t I hear it from behind my door?

“You have another.”

I started to ease the door closed again, but it was forced open and I had to take a step backward to avoid being struck by the swinging wood. A large man with dark skin and hair, voice deep and smooth as velvet stood before me, taking me in. “Who are you? And why are they hiding you?”

“I’m Porschia.”

He sniffed. “Mmmm. I love the scent of Frenzy.”

“How can you tell?” My heart pounded against its iron cage.

Julian prowled forward. “It’s very distinct, although I haven’t smelled it in a very long time. How fresh are you, peach?” He stroked his forefinger along my cheekbone.

“Very.”

“Why were you hiding her, Roman?”

I looked over Julian’s shoulder and spoke before Roman could respond. “He wasn’t hiding me. I was sleeping.”

Julian’s eyes widened. “So new. You still sleep.” In the dark orbs, darker even than Roman’s, was green jealousy. He wanted what I had. Why would anyone want this?

“So powerful,” he muttered, stepping forward.

Tage growled. “She is mine. I claimed her.”

Julian chuckled. “We’ll see. I wouldn’t mind sharing.” His eyes raked over my bed, the sparse furnishings.

“I don’t share,” Tage threatened. “Get away from her.”

Julian raised his hands, but kept his eyes trained on me. “It was nice to meet you, Porschia. Roman,” he added, turning around to face him. “I think I’ll stay for a while.”

“Then you abide by
our
rules.”

“Of course,” Julian quickly agreed, never taking his eyes off of mine.

That evening, we gathered around the fireplace to talk. Tage built a fire for me and golden, flickering light filled the room as Roman filled Julian in on the Elders and their decision to banish me. Julian was dumbfounded. “Why do you bother with these humans? They are only here for one thing: our food.
We
say when we eat.
We
say where we live and how. They serve us, not the opposite.”

Those were dangerous ideals, but I could understand how some night-walkers might feel that way. We were the ones who were cursed, so why bend to a human’s will—to someone who would only be alive for a fraction of your lifetime? Why allow them to dictate anything at all?

We sat on the velvet-covered furniture. Dara was draped over Roman, who was seated beside Julian. Tage and I sat opposite them on a smaller matching couch. I raked my fingernails across the deep plum fabric, watching it lighten and darken depending on the stroke. Tage stared at Julian, Dara picked at her nails as if bored, and I watched the nail marks.

“Why is there a cell downstairs?” Julian asked. His eyes flicked from face to face until he landed on mine, and a slight smile formed on his lips. “And were you the one to tear it apart, love?”

“She’s not your love,” Tage barked, “and you’d be wise to stay away from her. We might just unleash her on you.”

Julian laughed, his enormous shoulders heaving with delight. “I might enjoy that.”

It didn’t take long for Julian to make himself at home. He took the bedroom next to mine, enraging Tage and annoying Roman. Dara left, claiming she needed fresh air. I tried to slip out of my room to follow her, but Tage caught me.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I need fresh air, too,” I asserted, standing up straighter.

Tage smiled. “You know, you don’t actually need air at all.”

“We breathe.”

“It’s a mechanical function only; not a requirement. Not breathing won’t kill you, night-walker.”

I smacked his chest, making him stumble back a step. “Don’t call me that!”

“You have to accept it. It’s called tough love, kitten.”

He liked to play games. Fine. I gave him a sly smile and crept closer toward him. He looked behind him on both sides, but seeing nothing unusual, he backed into a wall covered in dingy floral wallpaper.

“What are you doing?” Tage gave a nervous smile, but watched as if fascinated. I rubbed my face along his, breathing him in, and heard him gasp. “Kitten?” Dragging my lips along the stubble of his jaw, I heard his lips part. “What’s this?”

My hands found his waist, chest, shoulders.

“Kitten wants to play,” I finally told him.

“Mmmm,” he moaned deeply from his chest. His fingertips flexed. I could hear them lengthen.

As my lips ghosted over his, he opened his blue eyes. I took his bottom lip in my teeth, grazing it with my fangs.

His arms slipped around me, pulling me flush to him. As soon as his fingers dug into my flesh, I sank my fangs into the plump inside of his bottom lip. Tage froze, his eyes widening.

I gently eased the tips out, and blood trickled in their absence. Tage’s eyes narrowed and he grasped his lip. “What the hell was that?”

“Call me kitten again, and I’ll bite it off.”

I left him there with his back against the wall. Before he could regale me with more factoids about why I didn’t need air, I was gone. The door slamming behind me was the last thing I heard. I was a blur.