Witch Way to Turn (13 page)

“What about me?”

His gaze devoured Breena. “I know there’s the pharmacy job, but what else do you do? What’s your major?”

It was all too easy telling Orin about her life. The way he listened, as if he clung to her every word, was exciting and hard not to get caught up in. “Right now Jenny, the pharmacy, plus class keep me pretty busy.” She took another sip of tea. “My major–uh, associate’s degree–is in Social Work.”

“Because of Jenny?”

“Also because of me. I know what it’s like to be in the system. To have no one. Every day is a new battle. Some days you feel like you’ll never win the war. A lot of the time kids don’t. They’re too broken to go on, or turn to a life of drugs and danger. Anything to make the pain go away.”

Good Lord, Breena, shut up much? Damn.

Her cheeks warmed and she stared down at her plate. She might never look up again.

God, he probably thinks I’m crazy. How could I just spew all that out?

Orin reached across the table and took her hand in his. She forced herself to ditch the embarrassment and look into his eyes. The simple gesture meant more to her than he could possibly realize. “I’m sorry, Breena.”

She nodded and bit her lip, trying to contain the emotions which stirred inside her, threatening to emerge. “Well, I’m luckier than most. I made it out.” Not exactly unscathed, but out. “I don’t want Jenny to suffer. She’s my life.” Breena squeezed his hand then pulled hers back. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to go all Debbie Downer. Basically, I chose Social Work because I want to be there for those who can’t help themselves.”

Breena finished her bread as the waitress brought out her steak and Orin’s veggie lasagna. Her stomach rumbled.

“New topic, please,” she joked in a singsong voice and cut into her steak. No blood.

Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.

She was okay with seeing her own blood, but anyone or anything else’s totally horrified her.

“If you could visit any monument in DC, what would it be?” Orin took his time opening his napkin and cutting into his dinner, like he could care less about his food.

She thought for a second before she answered, completely sure of herself. “The Washington monument.”

“Any special reason?”

“Yeah, to stand in the Mall and take one of those pictures where you hold out your thumb and index finger to look like you’re pinching it.”

He rolled his eyes and laughed.

“I know. Deep, right?”

“When I go back to DC, you should come. We’ll go there. Take the picture.”

“Hmm.” She scooted a piece of steak around on the plate.

“What?”

“I know you like me…at least, I think you do,” she said. “But I kinda thought this was, well, a fling of sorts.”

“It definitely isn’t what I’d intended, but it’s more than a fling. And I
definitely
like you, Breena. I think about you at the most inopportune moments. I can’t stop. It’s affecting my job.” A small grin played at the edge of his lips, but she couldn’t tell if it was a pleased smile or a smirk.

“You sound surprised.”

His eyes sparkled with lots of gold. No black. “I am. I just…never expected to feel this way about anyone.”

The look in his eyes was almost shy, and pride swelled in her chest. He’d shared something big. Admitted to his feelings. For
her
. This achingly beautiful boy had feelings for her. Giddy pleasure whirled through her. She reached for his hand and his smile was wide and delighted and unmistakeably not a smirk.

* * * *

The drive back to her apartment on the empty highway was silent but comfortable. The headlights of a passing car showed Orin glancing at her. The sight of his coy grin spread a smile across her face. He laced his fingers with hers and squeezed. The night couldn’t get any more perfect.

A wall of sound rammed the car, lifting Breena’s stomach into her throat. Her head slammed into the side of the door. The safety catch in her seat-belt locked, pinned her against the seat. A jolt of pressure, then a solid force like a giant fist punched her square in the face. She tasted blood.

Her head lolled back. To the side. Into the fist.

She lost track as they continued to flip. Everything spun out of control.

People say your life flashes before your eyes but hers didn’t. She only thought two things: Who would take care of Jenny? And, would Myles care if she died?

When the car finally stopped rolling, they’d settled upside down.

“Orin?” She barely got his name out. Her voice sounded raspy. Her throat was sandpapery and raw.

No answer.

As she eased her head to the side, a couple drops of blood splattered onto her face.

The driver’s seat was empty. Had Orin been thrown from the car? Was he okay?

A surge of adrenaline shot through her system. Enough to get her hands around the seat-belt and the button pushed. She realized her mistake as she fell onto the ceiling, head first.

Damn
.

Pain blazed like fire up her back, concentrating along her neck.

Hunched on the ceiling of the car, she somehow managed to get herself turned around enough to see out the severely cracked windshield. Through her hazy vision she made out two figures. They stood a handful of yards away from the car, facing each other. One of the figures was Orin. A wave of relief passed over her. He’d survived.

* * * *

“I knew you hadn’t killed her. What’s happened to you, Orin? You used to be such a killer. Now, stop playing with your food and finish her,” Zadalia scolded. “Or I will.”

“There’s been a complication.” Orin crossed his arms. He needed to wrap this conversation up and check on Breena.

“What type of complication?”

He shifted from side to side.

“Please don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her?”

He huffed out a breath. “So, what if I have?”

“The queen will not be pleased, Orin.”

“Don’t tell her.”

The suicide blonde flipped her hair off her shoulder. “I don’t keep secrets.”

“I seem to recall a werewolf plaything that ended with a trip to the abortion clinic.” Orin took a step toward her. “Would be a shame if the Witches’ Council found out.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“Damn you, Orin. If she survives tonight, have your fun, and be done with her. You’ve got one week.” She apparated out of sight.

Orin heard Breena whimper. Not half a breath later, he was next to her in the car.

* * * *

Breena tried in vain to call out to Orin. Her eyelids felt heavy. Her body throbbed. Blood made a dark circle on her stomach where it soaked through her beautiful dress and she knew she should be feeling something. Pain. Fear. Sorrow. Regret. Instead, she felt as if she merely watched from a distance. Teetering on the edge of sleep, she thought she would fall at any minute.

She wanted to.

“Breena.” Orin called to her. “Stay with me, baby.” She saw the sunflower-gold ring around his pupils. He sounded miles away. “Please...”

She fell.

* * * *

Orin’s arms were around her then he laid her down on something soft. The couch? Had she fallen asleep in the car? She was still so tired and she wanted to just curl up and go back to sleep, but there was a pain in her stomach that kept her flat on her back.

Myles asked, “What the hell, Orin?”

How did Myles know Orin?

“…lost too much blood.” Orin didn’t sound confident. “You… Save her.”

“Bree…hear me?”

“Myles?”

Something warm and thick…a liquid was on her lips. In her mouth.

She swallowed. Gagged.

Blood.

“Drink,” Myles ordered. Something pressed against her mouth.

* * * *

Breena woke with a start. She didn’t have to look over at him to know Myles was by the door. Waiting.

A floor lamp cast an eerie hue over her. The blinds were open and nighttime painted the sky black. She sat straight up, unease in the pit of her stomach. She was in Myles’s duplex. In his bed. In her underwear.

Omigod! I’m practically naked! What in hell?

Looking down at her bare stomach, she noticed...no cuts, no bruises, nothing. She ran her hands over her face–good there too. An odd deja vu washed over her. Waking up strangely unscathed in Myles’s duplex was turning into a habit. One she could definitely do without.

Between the car accident and here someone had removed her dress but she knew, without a doubt, nothing fun had happened.

Myles walked into her peripheral vision as he opened a dresser drawer and pulled something out.

“Lift up.” Myles slipped one of his t-shirts over her head. “Your dress was ruined.” But somehow she knew the smell of her blood had been too much for him to handle. That’s why she wasn’t still in it.

“Thanks.”

“Breena.” Orin came closer to the bed. She hadn’t known he was there.

“Stay back.” Myles’s fangs shot out.

His fangs? Holy hell.

“You’re a…vampire?”

Those sharp canines retracted as he turned to face her. “Yes.”

“But you…you work the day shift.” Her head felt stuffed with cotton and the world seemed to list to one side. How much more of this could she take?

The vampire reached into his pocket and pulled out a small cylindrical case. He shook it.

“Pills?” What did that have to do with anything?

“Day-walking drugs.”

“Like a cure or something?” Breena folded her arms around herself. “Did you make them?”

“No. I have to take them every day or I lose…”

“Your humanity.” There was no question in Breena’s mind. She knew things about Myles. Things he’d kept from her. It wasn’t like she could read his mind or anything, more like she could interpret his emotions.

He nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her chest ached like a thousand pound weight pushed against it.

“I was forbidden.”

“By who?”

“The Witches’ Council.” Myles slumped onto the bed, elbows on knees, head in his hands. His face looked ghostly white.

For the second time today she’d heard about the Witches’ Council. What was the deal? Why was it so dang important?

“How’s the pain?” Orin kept a safe distance.

She thought for a minute, took inventory of her legs tucked under her and her arms holding down the t-shirt–it wasn’t easy maintaining a modest position while pantless. Everything seemed to be in working order, except for the hunger coursing through her veins. Not stomach-growling hunger, more like chase-something-down-and-kill-it hunger.

Sweet Jesus!

Panic soared inside her. She looked at Myles. “Am I a vampire?”

“No. But you may feel the desire to feed.”

Relief calmed her out-of-control pulse for the moment. “Because you need to.”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Why do I know that?”

Myles expression grew even more somber. “I gave you my blood to heal you. Otherwise, you would’ve died.”

Drink.
She remembered Myles’s voice in the darkness. Overriding the pain.

Remembered a hot, coppery liquid in her mouth.

Myles’s blood. I
drank
his blood.

Her gorge rose, but she forced it down. She couldn’t afford to collapse in hysterics right now. She needed answers.

“Okay, but why do I know what you’re feeling?”

“The blood has forged a link between us. It allows you to experience my emotions.”

“So I know what you’re feeling?”

Myles gave a slow, sharp nod. “Yes.”

Omigod
.

Breena tightened her hold on her t-shirt. “Forever?”

“No.” Myles hesitated and inched away from her on the bed. “The blood-bond will fade.”

Well, thank God for small favors.
 

Orin sucked in a deep breath. She looked at him then back at Myles. “What the hell happened? Why did I even need your blood?”

Orin stepped closer to the bed, despite Myles’s deadly glare. “We were in a car accident, baby.”

A rush of anger whipped through Breena’s core. Myles did
not
like Orin calling her that.

Frankly, she kind of liked knowing Myles was jealous. About damn time she knew what he was feeling. Of course, actually feeling what he felt didn’t seem like something she’d want to do for any length of time. It was hard enough battling her own demons.

She forced down the extra ration of crazy cruising through her body, thanks to Myles’s blood, apparently, and focused on Orin. “Didn’t seem like an accident to me. You were talking to someone. What was that all about? And why the hell didn’t you just poof me out of the car?”

Orin towered over Myles. The preternatural looked like a lion about to spring on his prey. “I need to speak to Breena. Alone.”