Chapter Five
Another tremor wracked Melody’s body. She released a shaky breath that was mixed with tears and saliva.
She was so damn hungry. After she got through the hard shell, the scarab tasted like raw chicken probably did. She spit out more bits. If she took the time to slurp the bugs like an oyster, she could polish the shells. They were probably beautiful when they weren’t crushed between her fangs.
A sob escaped. She had fangs. And claws. And…and…horns.
The fangs and claws she discovered when she was fighting for her life against— Nope, not gonna think about it. Those demons she really did kill. A sickening pit welled open in her gut.
There was no stripping the carcass into usable hunks of meat. They were dead, and she had sprinted away as soon as the last body had hit the dirt. So unlike the hunter her father had taught her to be. She was a killer.
Yes, it was a kill or be killed, raped and/or tortured situation, but she’d still taken not just one life, but three. Unlike with Creed, she hadn’t fought the surge of dark emotions. They’d rolled through her, the kerosene for her flame. For survival, it was true. Her laughter still rang in her ears. It had bordered too much on delight for her comfort. The strength in her muscles, the accuracy of her strikes, her moves as if in a slow-motion action sequence. And the refreshing relaxation of finally having a reprieve from the build of fury. All lasting until they were dead.
The terror inside her swelled until she almost choked on the last mouthful. She wasn’t positive Creed had survived.
She forced herself to swallow her buggy mouthful, to fill her stomach in hopes the debilitating cravings stopped. The bugs had slowed their emergence from the walls. When she first collapsed in this place, they had swarmed her, thinking she was easy pickings, and she’d picked them off one by one. Now, only the young and inexperienced, or really stupid, ventured out of the wall. Her realm or this realm, wild creatures exhibited the same characteristics. If she were out in the field with them in her sights, she’d let them pass for more mature game, just like Daddy taught her. Don’t get trigger happy and take out the first deer that comes along. Your tag doesn’t need to be filled in a day.
But these were bugs, and she wasn’t hunting, just desperate. She sniffled, and the movement tugged on the tender skin around her scalp. She palpated the edge of a horn.
Horns.
There were no mirrors in the underworld. She wouldn’t have known she’d grown them if she hadn’t disemboweled one of the males with them. He’d tried jumping on her when she was wrestling the bigger demon.
When the fight was over and silence had descended, her first thought had been that Daddy would be so proud she’d taken down three males. The little girl he hadn’t wanted.
More tears cascaded down her face. At least she quit being a DIY greenhouse. The roots had killed one of the demons. Ripped him apart. She’d seen Hypna control plants when the demon had cocooned her in roots. Melody couldn’t delude herself. That fight had been her, and what Creed had said the other male had speculated was correct. She’d intercepted Hypna’s powers.
Was she turning into a monster? She felt like herself. A confused, scared, insecure version of herself. Her fangs and horns and claws didn’t change that her mind still worked like normal.
Except for the fits of rage and extremes of personality.
Oh god. What was she changing into?
A sensation made her pop her head up and narrow her eyes at the wall.
A scent surrounded her, so pleasing, so comforting, yet utterly maddening, stirring the rage she couldn’t keep down.
Creed.
She twisted to look over her shoulder. She spotted Quution first. His features were calm, his soft purple eyes placid as he studied her. The corner of his mouth quirked.
“What are you smiling at?” She growled. Again with the anger when she’d just been crying about Creed’s fate. She should be swimming in relief.
Quution stood next to Creed, and his scrutiny intensified. Creed fully emerged from around the corner. Her stomach plummeted. She’d done that to him.
His tattered clothing hung from his body, the cheeks on his normally chiseled face were sunken in, and his shoulders hunched inward like he lacked the strength to straighten completely. He clearly hadn’t fed enough to completely heal.
Guilt bloomed. She choked as contents from her stomach crept upward. She spat the remnants to the side without taking her focus off them.
Creed’s brows knit together.
Her guilt flicked off like a loose switch. Oh, he had enough energy to judge, did he?
“What do you want?” She rocked back on her toes and rose to standing. Grime, grit, and leftovers covered her otherwise nude body.
“Are you all right?” Creed’s gaze touched on the tips of her fingers, then her mouth where her fangs poked into her lower lip. Then her horns.
Her upper lip curled into what was becoming her standard snarl. Was it the fangs making her do that?
“What are you staring at, Creed?” The hostility in her voice should surprise her, but she was grateful she could mask so much of what was festering inside of her. As soon as Creed did anything to point out her new features, her worry for him had been quashed by the black pit in her mind. How could she muzzle that pit and return at least her thoughts to normal, if not her body?
Quution answered for him, as if he sensed her innate aggression toward the other male. “You’ve changed, Melody, as I’m sure you’re aware. Our next move needs to focus on what to do about it.”
Hope surged forward, her only relief from the swirl of negativity that was so unlike her. She’d been a happy person, a “you can do it” girl. Now if another person asked how she was doing, she’d glare at them and tell them to gut themselves and lay down and die because she didn’t have time for their intrepid bullshit. A far cry from a sunny smile and a “never better.”
“How are you going to help me? You don’t know what I’ve done. I’m a danger to my realm.” She laughed, a maniacal sound. “I’m even a danger to this realm.”
The truth was sinking in. The red haze in her mind was spreading. Think happy thoughts. Like what? I’m a menace but at least this cave is bug-free.
Quution wasn’t ruffled, and her ire at him faded. “If you’re talking about the three lower life forms you decimated, then I’d say you acquired some useful skills for surviving down here.”
She glanced at Creed. His hair glowed orange in the torchlight, it was so stained with blood. Grit clung to his locks, gristle that was probably his own flesh.
“Then you saw what I did to someone trying to hurt me.” She jutted her chin toward Creed, the move stabbing her fangs into her lip. Dammit, that hurt. And she relished the pain. It brought clarity. “Did he tell you what I did? He was helping me, and he almost lost his life.”
The demon shrugged, his expression remaining unconcerned. “Hazard of the trade.”
A giggle bubbled past her lips at his casual dismissal of her dire warning. It was more effective than her happy thoughts. “I like you, demon.” Creed tensed, an imperceptible reaction her newly sharpened eyesight detected. More judgment? “Do you have a problem with that?” she snapped.
Creed waited a moment before he answered. “I have a problem with how I seem to upset you without doing anything.”
A rush of hot fury swept out any control she had on herself. “Without doing anything?” She stalked forward. The calm facade dropped from Quution’s face to reveal a look of alarm. Creed wore the same expression, but didn’t back away. “I bet you think that you’re ready for me this time? That compared to your superior genetics I don’t stand a chance?”
He held his hands up to placate her. It only stoked the fire. “You misunderstood what I said.”
Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. He’s hot. He came looking for me. He’s alive— Did he just say she misunderstood?
“Did I really? Is that because I’m human or because I’m a girl? Take your pick, Creed. I’ve been dismissed for both.”
“I respect you as both a human and a woman.”
“Too late,” she hissed. “I’m no longer either one.” Human females were women. She was just female. Of what species? Anxiety stoked the anger.
He glanced at her fangs, the shadow in his eyes betraying his apprehension. He feared her.
That both saddened her and delighted her. No, saddened. She didn’t want to be feared by anyone. Ever. It had never been a thought, much less an aspiration.
“Melody,” Quution interjected, but didn’t physically come between them. “Can you table your rage toward Creed for a moment so we can analyze the situation?”
She shot him a glare, but instead of meeting his gaze, his was directed at her horns. What about her horns? She resisted stroking them to make sure they were okay. For a body part she’d never desired, she was suddenly protective of them.
Creed spread his feet apart and bent his knees. Getting in a fighting position, eh? She could totally take him.
No! Fighting was not her thing. She was a daddy’s girl.
Daddy would want her to kick some ass.
No! He’d never condoned fighting.
Because she’d been a girl and he’d thought she was incapable. Just like Creed. The red haze blooming from the dark pit in her mind won.
A malicious grin spread across her face. The big male vampire was going to get his ass whipped again for daring to insult her.
No, this was wrong. She’d been distressed when she’d hurt him.
Uncertainty rippled through Creed’s expression as his gaze stuck to her horns. Her insecurity roared. Was he judging them? Comparing them to…to…whoever he knew with horns? She crouched lower, spread her fingers to allow her claws to extend fully, and prepared to attack.
When had she so easily started to accommodate her body changes? The battle with the three male demons had been sudden. This was calculated, her mind already plotting their weak points.
Quution backed toward the exit. “Brimstone and tinder, Creed. We need to get out of here.”
Creed’s body language was clear. He was resolute. Still thinking he could best her?
“Run, Creed,” she taunted, “before I spank you again.” That was too fun. A deadly fight was not a merry run around the playground, tossing teases back and forth. This was serious, it shouldn’t be enjoyable.
“I’m not leaving you. Calm down, Melody.”
“Calm down?” She could barely speak past her fangs. How big did they get? Creed placating her disrupted her equilibrium worse than when he asked how she was doing. Did anyone ever tell him to calm down when he was upset? The hand action he gave the words, motioning her to calm down, like she was a feral kitten. Calm down.
Calm down, Melody. I only asked you not to act like a boy for once.
Mom’s words banged against her skull until the black pit of unstable emotions glowed like an ember.
She flinched as Quution shouted, “The horns. Watch the horns!”
Watch what horns? His horrified gaze was riveted above her forehead.
Oh. Her horns. Yes, they probably still dripped with intestines. Is that too unladylike for you, Mom? Even that sarcastic thought felt good though her mom was long dead. And when she’d been alive, Melody would never have said anything resembling sarcasm. She’d desperately wanted her mother’s approval too badly.
“Melody,” Creed said, with that damn “slow down” motion of his hands.
Melody, if you cut your hair, you’re sleeping in the dog kennel and the dog will get your bed. Quit crying, now. Calm down…
A snarl ripped from her throat and she leaped for Creed.
He ducked and lunged to the right. Her reaction was faster than she’d ever experienced. She snagged his shirt, the rip spurring her adrenaline.
He wheeled around and charged.
Quution yelled again. “No, you dense male. The horns.”
Creed barreled into her torso and they both plowed back. Her claws dug into his sides, but she was helpless against his momentum. Thankfully, the claws didn’t extend to her feet, but they would’ve been handy at the moment. Yes, the horns.
He was trying to control her again. What next? He’d tell her she looked foolish in her camouflaged Boggs—boots that were great for hunting in any weather, by the way. They were only practical. Why can’t you be a goddamn girl for once?
Her shriek rang out as a battle cry.
Watch her horns. Damn right. Melody tilted her head. A good skewering would show him. A tiny voice inside of her suggested that this was a bad idea. Creed wasn’t trying to kill her, nor was he trying to hurt her in any way. Other than deeply insulting her with his “I’m so prime and she’s so human” comment weeks ago, he’d done nothing but protect her.
But he avoided her!
He’d also sat at her side while she’d been in her quasi coma. Her muscles tensed to keep herself from launching at him on the whims of her tumultuous emotions.
But his gaze lifted to her horns. His determined expression morphed to horrified, the lips she’d had too many dreams of kissing separated in alarm. He jerked backward a step. It was enough to re-stimulate her horn insecurity and tip her precarious mental balance to rage.
With a battle cry, she meant to tip her head even more, but she didn’t need to. A cloudy purple horn descended and the menacing tip stuck Creed in the flank.
Quution flung his hands up in an it’s all gone to hell way. Creed released her; they both stumbled back.
Her jaw dropped. The horn hovered for a second, the point shiny with Creed’s blood, before wrapping itself around her head, like mission complete. She gingerly touched it. The warm surface was as smooth as bone. They moved. On their own. She was angry with Creed so they poked him. Were they going to go sticking every person she was irked at? The way she was feeling, that’d leave a long line of victims.
And purple?
There was no hiding purple horns in her blond hair.
“Shit.” Creed’s panicked gaze shot to Q. “What’s the antidote?”
“Nothing that I know of.” Quution asked her, “Do you know of one?”
“An antidote?” She panted. Her hands fisted and relaxed, ready for more.
Quution gestured to her head. “The poison in your horns. It’s a—”
Creed interrupted. “It’s a fucking sex drug. Why’d you do that?”
“They must’ve felt I was threatened,” she said sweetly, but her heart was pounding. A sex drug. She thought Hypna controlled plants or something. Sex venom? Who the hell had sex venom?
This girl, apparently. Would Creed want to… With her? With anyone? Yes, to all the above?
“Whatever is going on in that clever head of yours, my answer is an affirmative to all your questions.” Quution wiggled his fingers and backed fully into the passageway. He checked his left and right before weaving his hands in a pattern around the opening. Her skin tingled and her hair felt lighter, like when she’d go through a staticky slide, playing with the boys she nannied.
God, she missed the boys. The thought was a small dose of normalcy that she missed terribly since waking up.
“Q, don’t you dare leave.” Creed lurched toward him, then stopped. His body shuddered and stepped closer to her. He shook his head as if he was trying to fight it.
Her temper spiked again. “Afraid of being alone with me?” she purred. Why was she acting like this? She’d poisoned Creed.
She’d attacked him—again.
No wonder he thought he was better than her. He could control himself.
Pressing her fingers to her temples, she lightly massaged. Her mood swings were giving her a headache. Her red haze was dying down to leave a black gaping pit of… What was she feeling now? Confusion. Despair.
What were her sayings again? I’m not enough as I am. No, not right. Aim, sight, squeeze. No, that was for shooting.
Quution faced them. “I’m not too proud to admit that this situation has progressed to a point I failed to consider. I’ve sealed the entrance. You two are safe. To anyone wandering by, the energy will read as simply a continuation of a wall. My web of power will block all sound coming out. You two work this business out.”
“How? How long does it take to wear off?” She was locked in with Creed and he wanted to have sex with her against his will. She’d roofied him. Somehow that seemed worse than ripping his throat out. He could defend himself against that. He hadn’t, though. Why?
The black pit of anger and anguish finally quieted as she gazed at a Creed who’d gone pale, was breathing heavy, and was possibly in extreme mental and physical turmoil.
“After a few hours, I hear. Or after ejaculation, of course,” Quution said. “The logistics are up to you two.” He disappeared, leaving them alone.
She crossed her arms and eyed Creed warily. “I’m not in the mood. Just so you know. And I don’t need to drug someone to have sex with them.” A few times in her life, she’d been wanted. Not enough for anyone to stay.
“It’s not your fault, Melody.” His distress was clear in each word. He bent over with a grunt to prop himself on his knees, seemed to think better of it and straightened. There was a noticeable bulge in his demolished pants. He spun around as if to hide it from her. “None of this is really you.”
“What if it is?” she mumbled.
He looked over his shoulder at her, but whipped his head back around—after he’d ogled her up and down. She looked down at her herself. Naked, without an inch of skin safe from grime, dried blood, and other unmentionables. Her plus a sex drug equaled a miserable vampire.
A feminine glow threatened to ignite in her belly, but she stomped it down. Not under these circumstances; nothing about this should make her glow.
“Why would you say that?” he wheezed. “You’re the most innocent person I’ve ever met. The last several hours…it’s all Hypna’s power.”
But it wasn’t Hypna’s power anymore. She wasn’t Hypna. All the changes Melody was experiencing were hers alone.
“You’ll need to knock me out.” Creed gasped, his body shaking. “I can’t hold myself for long before I attack you. One of us will end up dead.”
“You trust me with your unconscious body?” That was, like…really bold. Then again, he didn’t have a choice.
“Yes. And you obviously can defend us both. Do it. Knock me out. I’m not taking you like this.” His words “I’m not taking you at all” were barely audible. If she’d had her old hearing, she’d have missed it.
She sucked in a breath. “That’s right. I’m not good—”
“It’s not that, dammit!” He twitched like he was going to glance back at her, but he shook his head hard. “That’s furthest from the reason. You’ve only known me as part of Demetrius’s team. You don’t know what I’ve done before that, who I hurt. I’m the one not good enough for you.”
She sucked in another breath with a squeak. Did he really think that?
He was rocking back and forth, curled into himself. So miserable. What emotion was that gaping hole in her psyche going to toss out, if anything? Yes. Sympathy.
With a heavy sigh, she made her decision to do as he asked. She shuffled toward him, balled her fist, and chucked him upside the head. He fell in a limp bundle on the dirt floor.
Her hand flew to her mouth, and she scurried into a corner. She stared at her hand. One-hit Melody.
She blinked. Wetness stained her cheeks. Crying again. She sniffled.
I’m the one not good enough for you.
In the worst situation of her life, that was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her.
***
Creed groaned. Awareness trickled in.
Unconscious again?
He inhaled a measured breath. If he was in trouble, he didn’t want his captors knowing he was conscious.
The most decadent scent filled his nose. For a vampire, he’d always had a thing for salted caramel, and Melody smelled like a gourmet treat.
She’d probably hate to be told that. Maybe not. He didn’t know her likes and dislikes. What was her favorite color? Food?
No, he knew that one. She loved lasagna. Always added more cheese, according to Rourke’s mate.
Her favorite color was pink camouflage. He’d been in her room once.
Did she like salted caramel? The brimstone taint was nearly unnoticeable.
Brimstone.
The rest of the story flooded back to him. Getting stabbed with her horn and injected with Hypna’s poison. She’d knocked him out, like he’d asked. Had it been hard for her to do?
He was still alive. That was promising.
“I know you’re awake,” she said softly.
He cracked an eye open. Her senses were increasing to match his kind. Or should he say to match the level of creature the powers came from.
“Were there any problems while I was out?” He tried to sit up, but he was immobilized. Looking down, all he saw was twine wrapped around him.
“You were shaking like you were cold.”
He looked around to find her. She was in the same corner he and Quution had found her in. “Thank you.”
They watched each other. Her hair was as crusted and matted as his probably was. She was naked, and he might as well be, but her twine blanket was indeed cozy. If only he wasn’t anchored to the ground.
“I think the poison’s worn off if you’d like to release me.” He spoke carefully, not sure what would set off her mood.
“It wore off a while ago, I’m guessing. You maintained an erection for an impressively long time. I didn’t think it was possible to be erect when passed out, but maybe it was my poison. Then you started shaking. You haven’t fed enough to heal from what I did. And I’m guessing you didn’t feed during your bedside vigil. When was the last time you did? Never mind. It doesn’t matter after what you’ve been through. How are we going to feed you?” A rumble filled the room. “There goes my stomach again. I’m always so hungry. I have no idea what I can eat that’ll satisfy the craving. If three thugs didn’t solve it…” She shuddered, her face paled.
He’d missed her rambling. “To be fair, I don’t know how much you actually ingested of those guys. There were a lot of remains left.”
Her nose scrunched up. Good, the thought disgusted her. She was the last person he’d suspect of harboring a vicious nature. It was the demon power. Not her.
“Does it matter?” she asked. “There were three. Eating part of anyone…” The haunted quality of her expression ripped his heart open.
“It’s the way it is down here.” He didn’t have to lie. “It was kill or be killed.”
“Actually, it wasn’t. They were going to take me to the Circle.”
“Once they learned they might be able to access Hypna’s powers, it would still be a kill or be killed situation.” She didn’t look comforted. “Again, it’s the way it is down here, and in our realm with my kind.”
“Your kind isn’t nearly as cruel as the underworld.”
“Many of them are. I know too many vampires who’d…” Nope. Not going back to the days his family trafficked humans.
“Finish.” The edge to her tone startled him. She’d always been a nervous flutter around him, with wide adoring eyes. The adoration was gone, replaced by command. The sharpness in her tone and movements were at odds with the Melody he knew, but more in line with the glimpses he’d gotten of her inner life. Her bedroom full of hunting regalia. The trophies weren’t for the sake of trophies, but to highlight moments she came out ahead.
He not only didn’t want to revisit his past, but he didn’t want to share it with Melody. She was—had been—his breath of innocence. How could he explain it? Listing the atrocities his family, and for a while, he, committed wasn’t enough. It might seem too theatrical, too unrealistic.
“Creed, what else have we got to do? You might as well talk.”
She had him there. Quution’s wards were still on the door, and Creed was recovering. “You’re a hunter, right?”
She nodded. “I used to. Mostly deer hunting. I loved fishing, too. I can fry the meanest fillet. But as soon as Daddy put the bow in my hand, I was on to bigger game. Soon after, he taught me to use a shotgun.”
“And when you hunted, did you go after the young game, the weak or sick?”
She shook her head, her hair too clumped to fly around. “Of course not. Especially if I got a buck tag that year. I left the ones with a small rack alone. A lot of hunters do. It’s pointless and heartless to shoot something because it can be shot.”
“I know a lot of vampires who didn’t care, who don’t care. They’ll target humans and go out of their way to capture the young and the weak, namely females. Not that females are weak,” he said quickly when her look turned fearsome. “But the old school vampires think so. It’s an innate ability in us. When you hunted, did you kill for just a meal and move on?”
“For meat, of course.”
“Were you poor?”
“No. But groceries can be expensive for anyone. Back to the story. What point are you trying to make?”
Wow. She’d never been so direct with him. He…liked it. “The Circle kills without discretion. They constructed a shit plan to take over because they’re too impulsive on who and how much they kill. We think that’s awful; we don’t want their influence in our realm. But the truth is that I knew many vampires who are the very same way.” Like my parents. “They’d kill humans over and over, just to feed their fill, and leave the discarded body to rot and the human’s family to wonder what happened to their loved one. Sometimes—” he clenched his jaw, but he had to keep going, “—they’d just take the whole family. Feast off them for weeks, treat them abominably, discard them. It was a waste of life. A waste of resources.” When her eyes flickered with impending anger, a look he was coming to recognize and tread lightly around, he clarified. “We can feed off humans. It’s not nearly as satisfying. No offense, it’s biology. Human blood is just blood. Vampire blood is blood and power, and we feed off both in a way. Like we need water to live, but milk is so much more filling.”
She nodded and the glint died, but not completely. The hint of darkness in her soothing baby blues had been there since she’d woken up.
“So you and Demetrius and the rest, your goal is stop all of these vampires? I thought it was demon hunting.”
“It is. We started years ago by planning a takedown of our government that sanctioned those types of atrocities. Once our new government was formed, they already had an existing police force, so to speak. And the demon problem among our kind was discovered, thus our mission changed.”
“Thus it did.”
He glanced at her. Was she mocking him? Occasionally, he defaulted to the more formal speech of his younger years, but he watched enough reality TV that it didn’t happen as often.
Her stomach growled again. She placed a hand on her abdomen and scanned the walls.
“No more scarabs dare come in here. They aren’t bad, you know, once you get past the shell. I’ve never eaten freshly butchered chicken before, but I imagine that’s how it’d taste.”
What should he say? Did you eat them all was the minefield equivalent of a question. He’d never eaten raw chicken before, either, but he’d drained plenty of humans in his day, and he wasn’t bringing that up. Unlike her and her father only hunting what they could eat, he’d been indiscriminate about who and how many humans he’d dined on. It wasn’t the type of information that would comfort her.
She shifted her position, but her hand was still on her belly. “Why am I so hungry?”
“Healing, perhaps? Hypna’s powers are trying to change you, and you’re likely expending a lot of energy repairing the damage it’s causing.”
“They’re my powers. Hypna has no more claim to them. I don’t get to shirk responsibility and blame Hypna. They’re mine. The actions are mine.” Her eyes glowed.
He hadn’t imagined it. They were glowing, a green shine, like a predator’s. It was important to her to claim them as her own. And they were now, whether any of them liked it or not. Hypna was dead and gone, wouldn’t be coming back to repossess them.
“You’re right,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes slightly and her nostrils flared. Hellfire, she was scenting him for his honesty. Demons and vampires didn’t have the keenest sense for it, but more than a human’s.
Melody really was changing.
She sighed and looked around, squirming like she didn’t know what else to do. He took the opportunity to really look at her.
The horns. More delicate than Hypna’s had been, but they were motherfucking horns, protruding from her temples to wrap around her head. The crown-like quality they had was as disturbing as it was ethereal.
Had her fangs shrunk? They were barely noticeable, but when he’d charged her earlier, they had extended well past her lower lip.
Her claws were so tiny, like a sharp manicure. Had those grown before she attacked as well?
How long were they going to be down here? “Quution should be back soon. Our first task will be to find you sustenance.”
“And you,” she said without looking at him.
“Yep.” And they were back to awkward. “So… Was it just you and your dad?”
“No.” Two little points of white protruded from her mouth. Her fangs had lengthened. She tapped the fingertips of one hand against her arm, the tips of her claw leaving pinpricks of blood behind. The horns undulated as if they sensed her distress.
The hair on his nape tingled and he realized too late that he was still strapped down by her vines. Was it just emotional topics that made her unstable?
“I didn’t have much to do with my mom. I wasn’t good enough.” She gave a sardonic laugh. “Or should I say I wasn’t girl enough.”
“Because you liked hanging out with your dad?” His intuition screamed at him to shut up, not to provoke her, but he genuinely wanted to know about her. To the point where he’d risk blood he couldn’t spare to find out.
“Dad tolerated me. He wanted a boy. Mom wanted a girl. Then I happened to both of them. Now it doesn’t matter anymore.”
The floor vibrated ever so slightly. His gaze flew to her. The storm in her eyes returned. It had to be her roots causing the sensation.
“I’m a disappointment to my parents, too,” he blurted.
The floor quieted and more of her natural brown shone through her eyes. “Really.”
“Yes. They were, uh…like the vampires I told you about.” I was, too. But he didn’t mention that. While she calmed, he jumped on his chance. “I’m very cozy, but would you be so kind as to assist me out of this cocoon?”
Her brows shot up. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
She focused on the vines, a crease in her forehead. She sucked in a breath and focused again.
Sighing, she said, “I can’t remove them with my mind. I have no idea how I do it in the first place, it just happens. They were lush and green when they first sprouted.”
Interesting. These didn’t disappear like the ones from her earlier panicked flee through the caverns. Was she gaining more control?
“Are you able to tear them? Perhaps I’m too weak to break free.” Or she made them much stronger than before.
“Sure.” She didn’t move. He didn’t press. He’d rather have her come on her own terms than pressure her and risk her fight or flight response.
Crawling toward him, she eyed the vines like she was planning her attack. Her breasts swayed with every move, mesmerizing him. Covered in grime, she was as appealing as she’d always been. As she prowled, her natural and unnatural predator instincts were on full display. She was powerful, stealthy, and yet he could only notice how her rib cage curved in to a waist that flared nicely at the hips.
She was a vision, all feminine softness over hard muscle.
He swallowed and switched his attention to the dirt ceiling.
Snipping through the vines with the tips of her claws, she worked steadily through the mass. He took measured breath after measured breath, anything to calm his body down. His stupid male anatomy didn’t care that it wasn’t the right time to respond to her salted caramel scent.
She cut through one entire side and flipped it over. Air brushed over him, cooling some much needed areas.
“Oh no. The poison hasn’t worn off.”
“I don’t feel crazed,” he lied. Let her think his erection was still from the injection. “I think it’s just a lingering response.”
The look she gave him came close to calling him on his bullshit. He schooled his features to be sincere.
He groaned as he tried to roll up. She gripped his elbow to help him.
Damn, she was strong. He had no doubt she hadn’t been a weakling as a human, but this strength definitely wasn’t human. It was strong for his kind.
“Ah. You two seem to be doing much better.” Quution’s voice drifted into the cavern.
“We need to eat,” Creed growled. The male irritated him, only because Melody’s eyes lit up when she saw him.
“Don’t we all.” Quution wove his hands around the entrance, undoing his energy wards.
Melody deserted him to cross to the door. Her absence was a cold breeze. Creed’s foul mood had nothing to do with being hangry.
“What’d you do while you were gone? Did you find a way to help me?”
Q, the bastard, was a master at a placid expression. “Not yet, but… What do you want done about your new abilities, I think is the question.”
Melody frowned and dropped her gaze. Creed watched her.
A disturbing thought dawned on him. They’d been in survival mode from the beginning, and he hadn’t made the connection. The only way he could have Melody was if she remained the hybrid creature she’d become, and she’d become a danger to those around her. Helping her return to human, which would be the decent thing to do, would be to lose her all over again.
He knew what had to be done.
“We need to help her. To find a way to cleave the power from her.”
The look Melody shot him was full of green glow with a hint of hurt. He steeled his resolve. Hypna’s powers were unpredictable in Melody, and he’d sworn himself to protecting innocents.
She wouldn’t remain innocent with that festering inside of her.