Infected (Releasing the Magic Book 1)

by Maya Riley

  He rolled his pant leg up to the knee and began working on unhinging his leg. I focused on fumbling my hands in my lap, trying to give him a sense of privacy. With a low chuckle, he murmured, “It’s okay, B. You can look. I don’t mind.”

  I looked up at him, surprised that he’d noticed I tried not to look.

  “I’m used to people looking. You’re not like any of the others out there. I don’t mind, you can be curious.”

  I looked down in amazement to see him continuing with the latches holding it together. Once the prosthetic was free, he heaved a sigh of relief and set the leg behind where his head would be. “Does it hurt?” I voiced the biggest question in my head.

  “Not anymore.” He heaved out a sigh. “Sometimes it does, when I overuse it, but most of the time it doesn’t bother me.” He showed me one of his toothy grins I was beginning to love and want to see more of.

  Jonah joined us on my other side with a book in hand. Curious, I leaned over to see what he’d picked up and he held it closer to make it easier to be nosy. The title font was really catchy. It was in large, white letters with blood dripping off of them. I tilted the book over to read the back. Looked like it was about a badass girl and her guys. I caught Jonah’s wink at me out of the corner of my eye. She was a mob daughter and they called themselves the reapers. I would need to take a closer look at this soon. Some time when I was more awake.

  My mouth opened wide for a yawn, a very unladylike move since I didn’t bother to cover it. I leaned back and pulled the nearest blanket toward me.

  Lincoln copied the motion and I snuggled into his side, throwing part of the blanket over him too. I turned around over to face him. He reached out and rubbed one of the half dozen burn marks on my bicep, his face somber. “I really am sorry,” he reiterated.

  “I know.” I smiled and tugged the blanket tight around us. “It’s okay, I promise.” He wrapped his arms around my back and my head, and held me tight. I drifted off with my face in his neck, surrounded by his ever-present campfire scent.

  Blyss

  Thoughts flitted through my head as I tried to make sense of everything. I still couldn’t figure out Mateo. He’d sharpened my knives for me while I was asleep one night, but didn’t want to take credit for it. Like he didn’t want anyone to know he’d done something nice. At least, I assumed it was him. He was the one always playing with knives and sharpening them. I’d connected with each one differently, but I couldn’t seem to connect with Mateo. Even more importantly, I couldn’t figure out why I wanted to connect with him so badly. The more I tried to talk to him, the more he pulled away and hid behind his scowl.

  I poked at the ashes in the fireplace, mostly just to feel like I was doing something, whether or not it was productive.

  A noise outside brought me out of my thoughts and I called out to the guys on the floor above. None of them answered me, so I hobbled over to the window. When I looked outside, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I called back out to the guys again but received only silence in return. Unwilling to let my suspicions go, or to take the time to limp up and down the stairs, I opened the front door and slid out with Puppy right behind me.

  All was silent as I hobbled farther out, nearing the bushes of flowers that’d become our favorite place to lay on the ground. I wrapped my arms tighter around me, trying to keep out the bitter cold that still lingered in the air. With the mostly spring-like weather lately, I hadn’t thought to grab a jacket.

  Puppy’s low rumbling sounded from behind me and I looked back to see her staring intently toward the trees. I palmed one of the daggers I had in a sheath attached to my hip and waited.

  Three rotters stumbled from the trees, dragging their bodies toward me on brittle legs with outstretched arms. I could either hurry back to the station door, or I could stand and fight. Of course I chose to stand and fight, I never backed down. Three on one, that I could do.

  Swinging my arm, I planted the dagger hilt deep into the skull of the first one that reached me. I thought this might be an easy task, but I didn’t anticipate lodging my weapon into a rotter on the first swing and being unable to pull it back out.

  I cursed as I was pushed to the ground, biting back a yelp as I landed in the mud mixed with a bunch of sticks and stone. I reached for the dagger on my other hip, holding the rotter at bay with my forearm across its chest. More decayed bodies emerged, spitting a wash of stomach acid from their mouths as they dragged themselves across the snow toward the spectacle. Some limped along while others crawled across the ground, dragging mud and leaves with them as they neared.

  Pulling the second dagger free from the sheath on my hip, I stabbed it into the eye of the rotter on top of me. A sticky substance splashed out of its eye and coated my face. By the time I rolled the rotter off of me, the others had closed the distance and were grabbing at every inch of me they could reach. I kicked out, bashing in the head of a rotter with my boot until it’s neck broke. That didn’t stop it from continuing to move and grab onto me though.

  Soon, I was lost in a shower of teeth and nails as they descended upon me. I threw my arms out, wrapping one hand along the bottom of a jaw to keep a rotter’s mouth at bay while the other hand shoved the knife through the throat of another. I used my forearms as barriers against even more. I fought them off as best I could, but was soon overpowered by the amount of bodies as they pulled and slashed at me. The weight on top of me pushed me farther down into the mud, the sticks and rocks cutting into my back through my shirt.

  Fear consumed me. I was like a cat falling into ice-cold water. I fought back with everything I had in me. If I was going to go down, then I would go down fighting. I would take out as many as I could before they either ripped me to shreds or I turned into one of them, whichever came first.

  Groaning, I pushed the knife farther into the rotter’s throat until it poked out the other side, my hand practically inside of its neck. I twisted my wrist the little bit that I could and shoved it into the eye of another. Red and black began to ooze out of its eye and ran down the dagger. The more force I put into it, the faster the clotted blood rolled. The smell of raw sewage filled my nose, but I did my best to keep my focus on the danger on top of me. I must have focused too much on that because I failed to notice another one falling through the horde of rotters until yellow puss started flying, and another gnarled mouth descended toward my face. I couldn’t hold all of them back at once and I let my fear overwhelm me.

  Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The bodies were ripped from mine and thrown across the muddied ground. Once the last rotter was torn off me and I could breathe freely again, I looked up to see Mateo in a fit of rage. His jacket was unzipped and billowing in the breeze, showing off his toned abs. With every last rotter away from me, he went into a mad rush, running across the short distance and digging a dagger into each and every dead skull, making sure they stayed that way forever. He didn’t stop until every limb ceased moving and every moan quit wailing. The air was filled with nothing but deafening silence and his heavy breathing.

  Not knowing what to do, I sat up, eyeing him carefully. “Teo?”

  His wild eye turned toward me, looking me up and down as he took wide strides to get back to me. My body became weightless as I was roughly lifted into the air, his hands holding me up by fistfuls of my shirt. After a moment, he slowly lowered me and my feet sunk into the mud. Our faces were so close they were almost touching, and there was barely any space left between us. A deep brown, earthy eye swirled with flecks of auburn, and his plump lips were parted with his heavy breathing. I vaguely registered Puppy watching us from a few feet away.

  “Were you bitten or scratched?” The scent of coffee on his breath carried up my nostrils as his low voice questioned me. “I said,” his voice began to raise a few octaves, “were you scratched or bitten!”

  “I-I-I don’t know! I don’t think so, maybe not,” I stuttered out, the swirling auburn in his eye frightening me.

 
He stared at my face, taking in every feature as he determined whether or not I was telling the truth. I was fairly certain I was still free from infection, but it was better to be safe than sorry. This group of misfits had grown on me, and the last thing I’d ever want to do was put any of them in danger.

  As soon as my ankle fully healed, they were going to ask me to leave. There was no reason to delay the inevitable. There was no reason why I should stay with them forever, especially if they weren’t all on board with the idea. My eyes began to well up at the thought. “I’ll grab my things and go.” My voice was barely audible in the silence around us as I tried to keep the tears from falling.

  His eye widened and he loosened his grip on my jacket. “Why…”

  “Because I don’t want to put any of you in danger, I’m too much of a liability. You guys spend so much time taking care of me and protecting me, it’s not worth it. Hell, you could’ve gotten infected or killed from saving me!”

  “You-you’re not a… dammit!” He spun around and went to walk away, his hands fisted and knuckles turning white before stopping after two steps. He paused and turned his head to the side. “Why’d you have to leave the station and come out here, alone? When there were four other guys in there. You aren’t back to full health yet.” The soft tone he used barely carried across the breeze to my ears.

  Anger grew, because I could do whatever the hell I wanted. I wasn’t used to relying on anyone and it was driving me mad. “I heard a noise and called out, twice, but nobody answered and I wasn’t going to wait around for some knights in shining armor. I went out to deal with shit! It’s not like you guys are always going to be around. I’ll be on my own soon enough.” My chest heaved with each breath, my emotions rising.

  I closed my eyes. I needed a moment of not having to deal with this. It was just too much for right now. This argument could seriously not be happening. I needed a moment to think. My fists clenched in frustration. If I needed to leave, then I would. I’d do whatever it took to keep the guys safe, like the others have been doing what they could to keep me safe.

  Hands cupped my face and I felt a warm mouth crash onto my own. My eyes flew open to see Mateo, up close, taking over my entire vision, his own eye closed. I could see the individual threads that made up his eye patch, and the little nicks lining the side of his nose. My hands reached up and my palms squeezed his forearms as he kissed me fervently, forcefully, lustfully. Our mouths opened and closed in sync, and I felt his tongue slide in, playing with my own.

  Releasing my mouth, he pulled back and in a whisper so low that it didn’t reach past us, he stated, “You are not a liability.” His warm hands dropped from my face before sliding behind my back and under my knees. Mateo held me, cradled to his chest, as we headed back to the station. Back toward safety. Back toward my guys.

  A series of hands grabbed at me as soon as we reached the door. I was passed around until I was against Jonah’s chest and being carried over to the fireplace, where Lincoln was making quick work with some flames. I had no idea what the hell was going on or, more importantly, what the hell just happened.

  “Are you okay?”

  “What happened out there?”

  “What happened to her, Mateo?”

  “Was she infected?”

  Soft fabric brushed against my hands as I was laid on the floor, apparently on some blankets.

  “Dammit, grab some more blankets. She’s shivering.” A hand brushed hair out of my face. “We got you, Skittle.”

  “Of course she’s fucking shivering, she was just buried in the fucking mud under a pile of rotters. She’s really living up to her name of Trouble.”

  “This is not the time to be angry. There are four of us. One of us should’ve been keeping a closer eye on B.”

  “Then when the fuck is the right time? You guys fucking coddle her, wait on her hand and foot. It doesn’t exactly help her defend herself.” The anger in Mateo’s voice rose and I looked up to see he was practically nose to nose with Adam. Jonah stood next to them, trying to get them to calm down. He threw his hands around in their faces, but I couldn’t get my eyes to keep up with what he was signing.

  After a brief intense stare off, Mateo grabbed a dagger and his sharpening tool and disappeared upstairs.

  Mateo

  What the fuck was she thinking, going outside like that? It’s one thing to go out alone, I’ve seen her fight, but it was a whole other thing to face a bunch of rotters with nothing but a couple daggers, one of which became unusable after the first use. I had sharpened her whole arsenal of blades for her, every single one that I could find. There was no reason for her to be caught unprepared. Yet, she just waltzed outside, practically oozing defenselessness.

  I gripped the dagger and began to sharpen it. That insufferable woman thinks she could just sashay into our lives, fight alongside us, and act like she cares. Act all tough and shit, and then put herself into a position like that. Hopefully she fucking learned her lesson.

  Those damn calculating brown eyes, always looking around and observing—I doubt she’d figured me out yet, no one ever had—and the way she’d giggle when one of the others said something funny. I hadn’t been able to make her laugh, not that I’ve let myself try. I was grateful the others could bring out her laughter.

  Memories of the last girl that came into our lives flitted through my mind. A woman that I saved and brought back to camp. A woman who made me fall for her, only to turn on us when our guards were down. She went from damsel in the day, to demon in the night. I remembered waking up to find my brothers tied up, Lincoln and Adam unconscious, which Jonah was forced to watch, while the bitch took out my eye, her red lips opened wide as she cackled the whole time. They knew that not every girl was like that one, but I still couldn’t get over it. I hid how badly it still affected me from the guys, and they thought my moodiness was simply because I’ve always been temperamental. I’d always had things harder than the others, and I’d never been anything more than a fractured man.

  The blade in my hand broke and the tip of it clattered to the ground. I’d gone through several blades since meeting her, sharpening them too much as a way to get out the frustration constantly building up inside of me.

  Echoes of the pain from that night rippled through my body and I lost my grip, nicking my knee instead. Fuck! I can’t do anything right, and Trouble deserved more than the broken man that I was. Why’d I have to go and fuckin’ kiss her?

  Blyss

  The wind howled outside, drowning out any other sounds that might be out there. The guys took turns keeping watch at the windows to make sure we weren’t caught off guard by any more surprise rotters. They’d inspected my injuries, and found some questionable marks. There certainly were some suspicious areas where they couldn’t tell if they were from the rotters or from the sticks and rocks in the mud. So they decided to wait it out, keep watch, and see if I turned. I hadn’t seen anyone last over twenty-four hours from time of infection, so we shouldn’t have to wait much longer. If they needed to off me, then I was ready. I’d already accepted my fate.

  We sat in silence. The only noises were the crackling fire and the echoes of blades being sharpened upstairs. Nobody seemed to know what to say, so we didn’t say anything. The small cuts and scrapes that covered my body really itched, but I did my best to avoid scratching. I didn’t know if that was part of the transformation or not, but we would see.

  Puppy cuddled up next to me, which was nice because I was so cold. Even with the fire going, the dog fur, and the extra blankets, I couldn’t seem to warm up.

  My body felt strange. I didn’t feel sick or ill. In fact, I felt better than ever, but something still felt off. Judging from what the rotters became, it looked like a painful experience. Perhaps it was just a side effect of rolling around in the mud. Maybe I’d end up with a different type of illness that had nothing to do with the undead, but get mistaken for a rotter instead.

  And what was all that with Mateo? He was an as
s to me then he saved me, kissed me, then continued to be an ass? That couldn’t be normal. I was now even more confused than ever about where I stood with him.

  My hand reached over and stroked Puppy’s fur. Surely she would be acting differently if I did have the virus? We’ve been getting closer with each passing day, but she would be the first to know if something was wrong. Instead, she lay contentedly at my side, letting me pet her and keeping me warm.

  Lincoln sat down on the floor next to me and I turned my head to look at him. His usual coffee-colored eyes were now deep and dark, with flames from the fire reflected within them. I so badly wanted to ease the pain I saw in his eyes. To heal whatever was bothering him. Without a word, he reached out and touched my cheek with the back of his hand. His soft lips touched my own and I closed my eyes, appreciating the gentleness of the motion.

  Tendrils of electricity rolled through my body, transferring between his fingers and my skin. It was an unusual feeling and one that seemed slightly familiar—a little more than static electricity. For a brief moment before it disappeared, I could feel him, understand him.

  That night, aside from the fire popping, the station was silent. At some point, Mateo came downstairs and sat in a corner. He leaned back against the wall drifting in and out of sleep while still keeping his eye on us. I watched him through my own cracked lids. At least he had stopped sharpening blades, I was beginning to think that was a nervous habit of his.

  I took a moment to admire the guys. They were all very much in shape, muscled-up, and at least two of them had tattoos. They’d been through rough times, but always came out stronger and I admired that. Lincoln with his leg, Jonah with his hearing, and Mateo with his eye. I didn’t know Adam’s full story, but he did tell me a little while ago that he left nursing school to pursue flight school. Going after your dreams wasn’t something that every person accomplished in their lives.