Faline

The next time I wake I find the submissive, Avina, on the bed next to me in a new room. Lavender theme this time. I'm curled up with her sitting next to me, fingers combing through my fur absently as she looks deep in thought. Not even realizing I'd raised my head, I look over to my leg, unfolding it as I sit up, which then catches the girls notice.

Torn up skin looks to be just about healed. If the bone had been broken, there's no evidence of it. Moving it still gets a few twinges that start an ache, but nothing too serious. She reaches out and lightly touches it, then moves her fingertips to my ear.

"Your leg was broken pretty bad, and our healer says you had a concussion, a small brain bleed. Your ear was also torn pretty bad, but it's all healed. Your blood healed everything."

She smiles brightly as if it's the greatest thing in the world. I guess in her world it is. My gaze flicks around the room then back to her, asking with my eyes.

"You were moved to this room so the other could be cleaned. The carpeting and furniture were full of blood, some of the books had to be thrown out. Your wolf friend was able to take human form this morning, his throat was pretty messed up. You play really rough."

My wolf friend? Anthony? Someone told this girl one hell of a story if she's under the impression that he and I were 'playing'.

The girl eyes me as if she doesn't quite believe it either, but she's more than willing to if no one corrects her. I let it go, what's the point anyway? My gaze hasn't moved from her, not even to blink.

"His stomach was pretty bad too, looked like you were trying to crawl into him or something. The deep scratches on his face had almost fully healed. I think you nicked something since he now has an indentation on his nose."

I want to be happy over that, I really do, but I just can't bring myself to care. Directing my eyes around the room again, I actually take in the details that surround me. Light purple walls with black trim seem to be the color scheme in here. The bed covers are a deep purple made of silk, pillows a mixture of both with a couple of small black ones tossed in.

This bed has thick wooden posts, but no canopy with hanging drapes. Thank fuck for that. No hidden hooks either. The back of the bed is pressed against the wall, small end tables on either side.

One of those weird Victorian chaise lounges are against one wall with a huge painting behind it to look like a window, the opposite wall has a love seat. The lounge chair is a deep purple while the small couch is black.

A small dresser sits next to the small couch, a coffee table in front of another fireplace with large deep purple bean-bag like things. All sitting atop a swirl design rug that takes up almost the whole room. The doorway a couple of feet from the dresser leads to the ever-present bathroom, candles of varying dark colors are spread about on wooden surfaces, their soft glow is the only light in the room.

"Your Maker had smelled my blood in you, so after you were brought in here and he got called away, he told me to stay with you. I don't mind this order, it's the easiest thing I've had to do today."

She gives me a smile, which makes her face quite lovely, but again I can't find the will to care. My tail flicks as I lay my head back down, gold eyes directed towards the fireplace. Totally oblivious to me, she keeps on jabbering.

I actually don't mind that so much. Hearing a voice that doesn't belong to either one of my tormentors is nice to hear.

"I'm also to provide you with sustenance if you so desire."

I don't move my head, eyes drawn to the flame of one of the taller candles on the coffee table. With Nicolaus being a pyromaniac, being in a room with candles and a fireplace just somehow seems apropos. Having been injured, my hunger is more than what it should be, but since I'd taken from her earlier before everything, taking from her again isn't safe. I think it's making itself known now just from the expenditure of energy used to heal.

The tugging feeling on my brain presents itself again. I reach for it. A sharp stabbing in my groin is followed by burning. I cry out, picking up on images that aren't my own. They're fast, almost like those I get when feeding, but these ones also hold emotion, traces of coherent thought, and physical feeling.

My body folds in on itself as I try to escape the constant stabbing of soft inner walls. I know this pain, a variation of anyway. When I was feeling it though, it wasn't a sharp knife stabbing at my insides.

I hear myself scream as I pick up that what I'm feeling is what Kierra, my sister, is going through. Images of a giant tan-colored wolf. Getting that she'd been feeling happy, then it quickly going downhill. The feeling of needing to get somewhere, the wolf leading the way. A burning, a craving within her body that has something to do with the stabbing she's now feeling.

I pick up her deep sorrow for having yet to find me, that thought alone sends my heart soaring. It's already hard pounding actually feels painful as the air burns in my lungs. I scream again as her pain is repeated in my head, then my shoulder explodes in furious searing pinpoints.

Within moments the right side of my neck feels like giant teeth have sunk deep into the tissues. The groin stabbing has stopped, but still burns and throbs. I wrench my mind away, not able to take anymore. My body feels like everything had been happening in tandem with her.

The pain of my body fades slowly, but only because it doesn't belong to me. I cover my face with my hands and weep. My shape had shifted back to human at some point, not sure when. Skin feels icy as I try to curl up, but I'm stopped by hands grabbing me and pulling me into a lap...a very naked lap.

I can't do it, not after all that. I start fighting, hard. Screaming out in denial again as I try to get away. Lungs feel as if they're about to collapse from all the overuse. I kick and throw punches, but my arms are caught and held down.

My flailing frame is flipped onto my belly, arms crossed under me then pulled out to my sides while weight presses down on my back and legs. Voice becomes raw from a combination of screaming and the sharp exhales. The weight at my back expands to my upper shoulders as one of my arms is released. Not much I can do with it with the heaviness on my body, it's being pinned between me, my other arm, and the bed.

A hand petting down the side of my face only succeeds in scaring me more. I jerk away from it, tucking my face away as I entreat my tired, sore, beaten down self to sink into the mattress. My harsh gasping cries make my sides heave, constricted from the weight and my own arms enclosing me.

I can feel myself edging into hysteria, but can't help it. Playing happy-house with a damn Vampire, what had I been thinking? The very same one who wanted my sister killed no less! Keening wails go from me into the unforgiving mattress.

I lay there and scream for another couple of hours, totally exhausting my mind and body. My brain goes numb, eyes looking off into space. I feel broken. I had tried to be so strong, laughing in the face of my demons this whole time. When in actuality I'd been caving, withering.

Conforming.

The pressing weight had left minutes ago, a blanket pulled over me in its place. An older female crouches in front of me, but not one I recognize. Not that it matters. Not when I might as well be one of them.

I continue to look through her, not even noticing any more details about her. The woman talking to whoever is behind me becomes background noise. I hear the words 'shock' and 'mental trauma'.

Mental trauma. That's one word for it.

Fading in and out for the next few hours, one point finds me on my back, someone's wrist pouring blood into my mouth. I think I'd torn something in my throat, for their messaging to make the fluid go down is killing me, don't even have the strength to turn away. I can feel the heated thickness coat my throat in its soothing warmth, but something in me is letting me know it's not my vocal cords being healed.

There's something wrapped around my eyes the next time I come out of the fog. Still on my back, my nose only picks up the scent of my own pain and tears, a very faint whiff of cologne. A hard body presses against my own and in the attempt to roll away I find my hands have been bound above my head.

Of course, why not.

I fall back into the darkness for a while, my body trying to give itself the time to heal without my brain interfering. The thought of my sister floating in my head is what wakes me up for good. She has to have survived what had happened, I can't get that close to knowing she's looking for me and have it snatched away by some blond dog who wants to get his jollies off.

If I can survive it having happened to me, I know she can. Able to draw on even more strength knowing that she had survived it as a child. Keeping my breathing level, I take inventory. Something is still covering my eyes and my arms are still bound above my head.

Body isn't in any pain, even my throat feels fine. Injuries taken from the fight with the Werewolf have completely healed. The weight distribution on the bed tells me someone is next to me, a faint whiff of cologne lets me know it's the undead. From the sound of deep, slow breathing, I'd say he's still asleep.

I don't smell his dog, but I do get other scents. Two distinguishable ones, one I know to belong to the girl who was with me some time ago and the other belonging to that older woman. The one who had said I was in shock and going through 'mental trauma'.

She must be the healer Avina mentioned. My hunger is actually sated, which is good. It's not till the body next to me moves that I feel his arm around my waist.

"Please, wait a moment before you call your cat. We need to talk, and for that, you need a voice."

His voice washes over me, coming from very close to my face. Waiting a few moments, I sigh and nod.

"I'm going to take the blindfold off. If you start screaming at the mere sight of me again, give me a warning first."

The attempted humor falls flat as I feel the cloth shifting then pulled off slowly. My eyes are closed, and to tell the truth, I don't even want to open them. I don't want to have to deal with Vampires or Werewolves anymore. Just want to be home, in my room, extremely bored.

"Won't you open your eyes?"

If I didn't know better I'd say there's a trace of hurt in his voice.

"You don't want me screaming at you again, I don't know what will happen when I open them. That's all the warning I have."

My voice is deeper, soft, low. I don't remember it being like that before, so I must have damaged something in my throat pretty badly.

"Please? I need to see your golden eyes. Not seeing them these long hours has been...trying."

That's the second time he's used that word. He's never before said it, at all.

Wait, gold eyes? My eyes should only be gold when I'm a cat. Are my eyes stuck like his are? I open them slowly, not wanting my brain to snap again.

"That's my girl."

I fully open my eyes and frown at him, annoyance crossing my features which just makes him smile. Sitting next to me with the blanket in his lap, hands hold the blindfold. Why am I not shocked that it looks like silk. His smile, when honest, makes him look really handsome.

My eyes shutter as that goes through my head. What's wrong with me? Wincing as his hand lays on my cheek, I look into his face again. He's changed since we first met. He was intentionally cruel, demented, and sick. Causing pain just because he could.

Yet since learning how to become my cat, it's like without a body there to call his sickness, he can be normal, damn near bordering on sweet. Playful. Still has some serious mood swings and doesn't want me far from him or out of his sight, but I think that first part may be his inner temperamental cat.

Quieter about his attentions to me when his dog is around, but the 'affection' shown is still there. Think he realizes how jealous Anthony has been becoming, and instead of playing on it as he would have before, he tries to prevent any friction when we're all in a room together.

Come to think of it, since becoming one with my feline, Anthony's hatred towards me has increased. Nicolaus spends more and more time with me instead of him and whatever it is they do. I've come to realize that the man seems to become content, at peace, even relaxed when he's with me. I'm like his living Xanax.

That kind of responsibility is frankly not one I want. He has his charming moments, but everything he does is overshadowed by the way he acquired me and what he's done to me since. Nicolaus isn't a talkative person, not really anyway. But he'll talk to me, even when I can't, won't, or don't respond in a human manner.

Damn near an honest happiness, it's a little daunting as he looks at me, strong emotions filling his eyes and making them dark.

"First, I want to know what happened between you and Anthony."