Silent Cravings

by E. Blix

“What the hell is Ashi’s prob—”

  Christoph stared at John, mouth hanging open slightly in mid-sentence. He focused on the extended fangs, the devilish expression, and tried to shut the door as fast as possible.

  Sebastian gave Mouse a pleading look, and she finally made a shooing motion at him. Grateful, he rushed out and headed upstairs. His mouth felt dry—not from hunger, but fear. He thought about making a stop to see Angus or maybe one of the donors so he wouldn’t have to think about the terror still wracking him after being confronted by a goddamn shapeshifted tiger.

  He’d never thought he’d see anything weirder than other vampires.

  “Hello, Christoph. Mind if I come in?”

  John put out a hand, catching the door before it shut. He waited for just a moment before pushing back, slowly forcing it open despite Christoph’s frantic efforts to close it.

  “I’m curious. Has Mouse actually bitten you yet?”

  As he forced the door open, he slid inside, watching with predatory glee as the Were retreated from him. He stalked forward, unnatural grace making the movement smooth, fluid, inhuman. He knew, whether Christoph answered or not, that the answer was no.

  “You know, where I come from, that means she doesn’t have a claim on you. Nobody does. You’re free and clear until you’re marked. Did you know that?”

  John knew it didn’t work that way here. Not in this building, not with Royce or his people.

  However, he also knew that Christoph couldn’t possibly have known that. He planned to take advantage of it in every way he could.

  Christoph had jumped from a low rank to a middle rank in Goliath very quickly because of one thing: he had balls. He was a daunting opponent: brave, massive, strong, and fast. Amberguard soon learned to retreat from the ferocious black and red werewolf.

  So any Goliath would have been stunned to see Christoph backpedaling at Mach Five, eyes wide.

  “Hey, whoa, let’s just calm down,” Christoph said, holding up his hands. “Everyone seems to agree that I’m Mouse’s. I mean, hey. Jesus.”

  He was babbling. Way to go, tough guy.

  “Funny. I don’t see her here. And you still haven’t given anyone, not even the one who’s supposed to be protecting you, a single… drop.”

  In that short pause between words, John moved from the doorway to directly in front of Christoph, locking his hands around the Were’s upraised wrists like a cold, implacable vise.

  “You know, it makes me wonder what all the fuss is about.”

  His grip tightened. Just a little. Just enough to hurt. He pushed Christoph back, forcing him toward the wall until the Were’s back was up against it, pinning him there.

  “How long have you been here now? A week? And no one, not even Mouse, has gotten a taste yet. Ashi got to find out what it was like his first day here.” John wasn’t as tall as Christoph, but that didn’t deter him. He pulled one of the Were’s arms up, ever so slowly bringing it closer his mouth. All the while, he smiled that devil’s grin, eyes alight with evil intent. “Does that sound very fair to you?”

  Ashi scurried across the living room and bolted out the door. He took the stairs too fast and wound up falling down the last five steps, landing in a heap on the floor. He made a beeline for Mouse’s apartment—the only place on the first floor that didn’t hold the unknown.

  It also held a tiger.

  Ashi did an about-face and, at the first door he came to that didn’t lead to a tiger-infested apartment, he knocked with a speed normally reserved for double-beat punk rock drumming. He was not going to be out in the open with John on the prowl.

  He really hoped whoever answered wasn’t hungry.

  Clarisse opened the door. She frowned severely at the sight of the frantic little Asian man on the other side of it, pulling back to regard this bundle of joy on her doorstep.

  “Yes? What?”

  Ashi stared at the vampire, thinking back to his seventeen-year-old self: rebellious and independent, without a care in the world, challenging what he knew was a Were to a fistfight.

  If he hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t have joined Goliath.

  If he hadn’t joined Goliath, he wouldn’t have met Christoph.

  If he hadn’t met Christoph, he wouldn’t have dragged him to New York.

  If he hadn’t dragged Christoph to New York, he wouldn’t be stuck in a vampire pit, standing in front of this door, staring at this strange woman he barely knew, asking her: “Can I come in?”

  In Korean.

  Way to regress.

  “Sorry, I mean, can I come in? Please? For an hour or so?”

  Christoph was horrified that struggling against John did little more than bruise his own wrists. The fairness of the situation was not something Christoph was concerned with. He was mostly focused on not getting bitten and that it hadn’t happened yet was fine and dandy with him.

  Now with John looking like he was going to take a chomp, Christoph converted fear to anger and bellowed, “Get off me! I’m gonna rip your head off! Don’t you fucking dare!”

  Clarisse stared blankly at Ashi, then frowned and glanced at the stairs. There had been some commotion from the hallway a little while ago. She’d been watching her favorite movie and, as the screaming hadn’t been prolonged, didn’t feel it was worth pausing it to investigate. Whatever had happened seemed to have passed.

  Now that Ashi was here, perhaps she should have been paying more attention, but she couldn’t imagine what would drive the vampire-phobic Were to her door. She wasn’t particularly interested in putting up with him, but she wasn’t cruel enough to turn down someone in need, either.

  “If ye wish. If whatever you’re running from followed ye here, ye get tae fix it.”

  Mouse straightened in alarm when she heard Christoph’s yelling.

  She took off, racing up to the second floor. Wesley, who had been on front door guard duty, was soon hot on her heels, peeved at all the commotion, his otherwise calm night interrupted this time by whatever was going on upstairs.

  The door to the apartment slammed open, and before the sound of it rebounding off the wall had reached their ears, Mouse did the same with the door to Christoph’s room.

  As soon as she spotted John, she was moving again, her nails biting deep into his shoulders and spattering Christoph with a bit of blood as she roughly tore the vampire away from the wall.

  John was too surprised and hurt to let go of Christoph immediately, so they tumbled to the floor together.

  Mouse slammed her booted heel down on one of John’s wrists, a brittle snapping sound cutting the air before he screamed and released Christoph to clutch at his broken wrist. Before the pain fully sank in, she leaned down, her hand closing vise-like around John’s throat, cutting off his cries as she bared her fangs.

  Wesley arrived in time to see her throw John and Christoph to the floor. His eyes widened, but he didn’t step in to either help or stop Mouse.

  He knew better.

  Christoph didn’t realize he was scrambling backwards until he slammed against the wall again, nearly braining himself. So far Mouse had been Chick With Big Boobs Who Is Awfully Nice. Now she was Scary as All Hell Chick With Red Eyes and Big Fangs. Christoph was in full panic mode and, if he’d been able to, he would have been getting pretty fuzzy right about then.

  He’d never been so scared in his life.

  Ashi felt like crying. He scurried into the apartment, found a fairly shadowy corner, and promptly hid in it.

  It was ironic that in a place very far removed from his pack, in a situation that no Were could ever in any pack’s wildest dream be in, his Were instincts were kicking in.

  Or it was just raw fear. Either way, it was a nice corner.

  Clarisse watched him, puzzled and a little annoyed. With a la
st surly look in Ashi’s direction, she went back to the couch and un-paused the movie. If he felt like being social, he could join her, but she wasn’t about to go out of her way to be nice to someone who had made it very plain he didn’t care a whit about her or her kind.

  John wasn’t making much sound around his crushed windpipe. He stared wide-eyed up at Mouse, who silently mouthed at him:

  He’s mine.

  John nodded as best he could around her hold, trying desperately to agree. He wasn’t used to feeling this much pain. He hadn’t been hurt like this since the first World War. It was blinding.

  With a whisper-faint growl, barely heard, Mouse slammed him down hard enough to crack the floorboards, releasing him. She blinked away the heat in her eyes as she twisted around to see if Christoph was okay. Her anger rapidly shifted to concern, ignoring John’s pitiful whimpers as she rushed to kneel at Christoph’s side, lightly brushing her fingertips over his jaw and his wrists to check for any signs of bruises, cuts, or bite marks.

  Wesley took advantage of her momentary distraction to rush into the room, grab John under the arms, and haul him out. If John had hurt Christoph, Wesley wanted him out of the way so she couldn’t put him out of commission for a month or more.

  Christoph recoiled from Mouse, gaping in terror as she reached for him. This was too much for him to handle. First, a vampire attack. Then a vampire-on-vampire attack. And now the one who won the dominance battle was in his face. It was Mouse, yes, but it was also the thing of his nightmares.

  Analie thought of who she could possibly borrow clothes from that would fit Freddy. All her new stuff was too feminine. Christoph would probably be willing to give up a pair of pants and a shirt, but his clothes would be massive on Freddy’s spindly frame.

  Ashi and Freddy were about the same height, Ashi being a little shorter. They were certainly not the same build, but Ashi wasn’t Mr. Universe. He was the most likely candidate for clothes-borrowing.

  But then there was that problem of Freddy scaring the crap out of Ashi. It was likely he wouldn’t feel terribly generous.

  She’d worry about it later. At least Freddy had moved out of the den-bed and was sprawled in the middle of her room. She sat against his side and rummaged through the box he brought.

  Mouse withdrew after her own initial panic subsided. The blood on Christoph’s face and shirt was all John’s, and she couldn’t find any nicks or bite marks. It didn’t take long for it to register that he was still terribly afraid, even though she’d dealt with the immediate threat John represented.

  Christoph was afraid of her.

  That was the last thing she wanted. She withdrew, spreading her hands and trying to look as small and harmless as possible. She’d done the same thing she always did when faced with a threat—beat the ever-living shit out of it. It hadn’t occurred to her that the display might scare Christoph, only that she needed to make quick work of it.

  The way he reacted to her made her feel even more like the monster she was trying so hard not to be. The one Max Carlyle made her into.

  She bowed her head and rapidly retreated, sickened by her own actions. Her self-loathing was overwhelming enough that even the hunger sparked by utilizing her incredible strength and speed against John was diminished by it. She couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Christoph. Not while he looked at her like that. Not while the scent of his fear so maddeningly teased at the hunger that marked her as the beast Max always told her she was. So she fled, even while a little voice in the back of her head mocked that she was only delaying the inevitable, promising that he had good reason to be afraid.

  Wesley hadn’t gotten John’s limp frame far when Mouse hurried past, looking more like she wanted to cry than kill somebody this time. He continued dragging John along, growling under his breath at the whiny wimp’s inability to suck up the pain and walk his own skinny butt back down to his apartment.

  Clarisse was annoyed.

  It wasn’t the movie. More that she couldn’t concentrate on it. Not with Ashi “hiding” in the corner, shivering and radiating the unmistakable odor of fear.

  She turned and frowned some more at Ashi, crammed into the corner of her living room, and pondered what to do about it.

  After Mouse had fled, Christoph slowly got up and went into the bathroom to shower. There was only a little blood on him, but now seemed like a good time to boil himself lobster-red and relieve some of the muscle-knotting tension in his body.

  The way she’d looked at him was confusing. Was there some sort of mutual fear going on? Christoph felt bad that the thought made him feel better about Mouse’s display of strength and viciousness. At least she didn’t go after him.

  Analie heard Mouse enter the apartment and moments later slam the door to her room. Feeling nervous, she patted Freddy’s head and poked her head out. She ventured into the hallway and slowly picked her way up the stairs.

  Ashi peered up at Clarisse. God, he was really learning to hate it when people stared at him.

  A thousand snarky things to say flitted through his mind. He kept his mouth firmly shut, figuring silence was preferable over getting one of the few people who was willing to help him annoyed with him.

  Clarisse harrumphed and tried to ignore the strange little donor in favor of concentrating on the movie. It was pretty hopeless at this point, since his scent and elevated heart rate were like a clarion call to her inner predator.

  Another woman, blond and statuesque, came out of one of the bedrooms and strode toward the kitchen. She got about three steps into the living room before her attention was abruptly centered on Ashi. She plastered on a sultry smile and shifted to assume a languid pose leaning against the nearest doorframe as her eyes hungrily roved over what she could see of him.

  “Well, well. So this is the other new blood, aye? Looks like a tasty bit.”

  Mouse went to her bathroom and washed away the blood on her hands, but couldn’t seem to stop shaking or rid herself of the mocking voice in her head telling her that she still was, and always would be, a monster. Why not take what she wanted instead of playing these stupid games of making her donors befriend or love her? No one would think less of her for giving in to her nature.

  No one but herself.

  Ashi couldn’t help it. He glared at the other woman. “I’m not a ‘bit’.” He practically spat out that last word, his hands clenching into fists.

  Yes, pick a fight with what’s probably a vampire. Nice work.

  Analie knocked before letting herself into Sebastian’s apartment. The door to Ashi and Christoph’s room was open. The shower was going. She pilfered a blue shirt and black slacks that looked like they’d fit Freddy and hurried back downstairs.

  “Now, now, no need tae get testy.” The blonde curled her lip and sniffed. She returned her attention to Ashi, curious. “What are you doing ʼere, then? Been bit, so somebody round ʼere must want you. Someone lay a claim, then?”

  “No one’s—”

  Ashi shut his mouth. Oh, stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He cleared his throat and tried to think of something to say to answer the lady’s question and not announce that he had yet to be claimed. This was like a lamb announcing to a pack of wolves, “Yeah, if I try to run all my legs dislocate.”

  When did he stop thinking of himself as a wolf?

  “Ah. That’s right, knew I heard some wanker going off about new blood in the house. John, was it?”

  “John and Ken haven’t shut up about it,” Clarisse muttered, her gaze shifting off the TV to focus on Ashi again at the change in his pulse at the mention of John’s name.

  “So what are ye doing here?”

  Wes had gone back to his room after dropping John in his own bed. He’d seen how Mouse looked when she fled past. She was undoubtedly mentally beating herself into knots over something or other.
<
br />   It certainly wasn’t John. Mouse had often looked like she longed to tear his head off and introduce it to his ass. Maybe that’s why she’d gotten so violent.

  That jogged something. She’d been abused. Tortured by Max. She always had a thing for championing the helpless, the hurt, the sick—anyone who couldn’t help themselves. She also had a difficult time coming to grips with what she was, and was often reluctant to take on new donors without agonizing for months over the process. She couldn’t handle rejection to save her life, which, considering her nature, was truly a pity.

  So what had happened? She’d gone haywire right in front of Christoph. Who’d already been terrorized by John.

  Which meant Christoph had probably flipped out when Mouse tried to help him.

  No wonder she was upset. Rubbing a hand over his face after that brilliant leap of deductive reasoning, Wes cursed under his breath and heaved himself to his feet.

  In a few minutes, he was back upstairs, and pounding on the door to the bathroom. “Christoph, it’s Wesley. I need to talk to you.”

  Ashi rubbed his neck. “John wanted to bite me. Again. I think. He got distracted, so I, uh... looked for a place to... hang out. For a while.”

  I got scared and wanted to hide.

  Christoph was nowhere near ready to stop boiling himself alive, but he turned off the water, toweled himself dry, and was back in his pants and shirt in a few minutes. Being an on-call warrior for Goliath made you figure out how to get ready fast.