What was wrong with me?
I didn’t mean what was wrong with my blood, but simply what was wrong with me. Why couldn’t I be like the others? Why couldn’t I put on a smile and at least attempt to fake happiness? Was it because there really was something wrong with me? Wrong with my blood?
I shoved myself off the ground, refusing to lay there and be miserable. Refusing to be weak and broken anymore. The woods were my place, this was my time. I would not allow it to be ruined, not now, not ever. There was nothing wrong with me. I had to believe that. There was nothing wrong with me other than a broken heart, wounded spirit, and a body depleted of the essentials it needed. I saw better at night now because I was a part of the night now in a way that I never had been before. I could hear better now because I had learned to listen better, because it was a sense I needed for survival and I had honed it. I was stronger and faster because I had been training, I had lost weight and gained muscle, and I had been fighting.
I sat panting, my lungs burned, my legs ached from the run, but it felt good. I felt alive. I wasn’t trying to run from myself, wasn’t trying to escape something inside of me, I was simply seeking some kind of freedom from a world that terrified me now.
And these moments were the only moments of freedom and solace I had.
I ached for Cade, longed for him fiercely. He wouldn’t have the answers to the fears and questions that plagued me, but his presence had always been comforting, reassuring; strong. He’d always been so strong, so calm, so collected and cool even when I was breaking down and falling apart. He’d made me stronger. He wouldn’t have the answers, but I knew he could ease the doubts, the fears, the crawling horror building within my belly. I closed my eyes and lay down. The ground was so cool, so blissfully cool against my heated flesh.
I could smell him; smell the wonderful scents of wood and earth and spices he’d exuded. I could almost feel him; almost touch the hardened muscles beneath his smooth, soft skin. Those eyes, so black and beautiful they had seemed as endless as the night sky, seemed to stretch into an infinity of love and understanding. A tear slid down my cheek, I did not try to stop it. Aching loneliness spread through my chest, I did not try to push it away, did not try to rebury it. It felt good to grieve, I needed to grieve. For the first time it actually felt good to think of Cade again. It brought agony with it, but it also brought a rush of joy so bittersweet that I almost laughed aloud with it.
My arms shook as I pushed myself up. I sat on the ground, my legs crossed before me as I finally caught my breath. I opened my ears to take in the sounds around me, but I was horrified to realize that the forest was quieter than normal. Rising to my knees, I caught the faint sounds of animals moving about, but they were far more remote and hesitant. The breath froze in my lungs as I slowly surveyed the woods, looking for the danger that must be lurking within the dense cluster of trees.
I frowned, uncertain and confused. I shoved myself up; my legs still trembled slightly from the exertion of my run, but they were strong enough to get me out of here if I needed it. My hands went to my waistband, instinctively pulling out one of the guns tucked there. Something seemed to shimmer as it moved on my right; I turned in that direction, leveling my pistol on the tree line. I waited breathlessly for a few moments but I didn’t see anything more.
I frowned as I turned in a slow circle, searching for something lurking in the darkness. My sense’s hummed as I strained to hear, or see, anything out of the ordinary. Though both of those senses failed to detect anything, I was certain there was something there, something haunting me, stalking me. I hated the fact that these creatures seemed to enjoy playing with their food before pouncing.
I swallowed heavily; my body was thrumming, fairly vibrating with tension and fear. I cursed my stupidity for having run this far. No one would even hear my gunshots out here. I was alone and I had no one to blame but myself, and my desperate need to feel something other than trapped and broken.
I spun to the left, my hands clenching on the pistol as the rustle of leaves rattled through the trees. There was no breeze tonight; the animals had gone to ground. My eyes narrowed, my hands began to sweat as I took up a shooters stance. I might be able to outrun one of them, might be able to lose them in the woods, but I wanted to know exactly what it was that I was going to be outrunning.
And then it shimmered from the trees, moving with an eerie grace that left me mesmerized at the same time that I felt everything inside of me curl up and die. My insides shriveled, my mouth became as arid as the Sahara. I felt as if someone had just walked over my grave. My entire being became as cold as ice, gooseflesh covered my entire body. If someone had pushed me, I either would have fallen over or shattered into a million ice shards.
My heart, the organ that had been beating so rapidly just moments before, seemed to have stopped. I felt as if the thing had shriveled to the size of a raisin. I could no longer feel the blood pulsing through my veins; no longer hear the beat of it in my ears. Every bit of my heart hurt, every beat of it was anguished and lumbering. There was a strange ringing in my ears; I could no longer make out any other noises.
The thing kept coming closer, but I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t move as it emerged with eerie grace. It was so unfair, so awful. That they could take on human form had become painfully apparent, but that they could take on this human form was just heart wrenching. And that they even knew to take on this form was truly horrifying.
We had always known that they were intelligent, that they were far superior to us in many ways, but now it seemed that they could also read minds, or knew far more about us then we had ever thought possible. That they knew far more about me, and my mind, than I could have ever imagined possible. In that moment, if I had been able to move at all, I truly would have pissed myself, or curled up into a sniveling ball of snot and tears as my mind shattered completely. Was it because I had just been thinking of him? Did they somehow now have the power to conjure him because I had been thinking about him so vividly? His eyes, his smell, his skin. Had I somehow revealed to them the thing they had sent to kill me?
I remained immobile, half mesmerized and half revolted as the image of Cade came closer to me. It could be a dream I thought absently, I could have fallen asleep on the forest floor. I had done it before, and just because I hadn’t dreamed of Cade for the past week didn’t mean that it couldn’t be happening now.
But I knew that it wasn’t a dream. I was too cold, too broken, too wounded for this to be a dream. In a dream I would have run to him, I would have thrown my arms around him and kissed him senseless until the cruel reality of waking interrupted us. In a dream, I would have been elated.
Here, I was terrified, and on the verge of complete mental collapse. Here, I was going to go insane before that thing finally did me the favor of ending its torment.
Noise, normal noise, screeched back to my tormented ears as a hitching breath ripped from my chest. My hand began to tremble on the gun. It wavered before me. I knew that I should shoot, knew what this thing was going to do to me, but I couldn’t move. I felt like a cobra under the snake charmer’s spell, entranced by the creature coming at me. Charmed into allowing it to strike me, instead of offering up the defense that Darnell had tried so hard to instill in me.
Entranced by its striking similarity to the man I loved.
Its black hair fell across its forehead just as Cade’s had. It framed the most handsome features I had ever seen in my life, features I had given up all hope of ever seeing again. Longing sprang forth in me, for a moment I ached to touch the creature. Ached to run my fingers over the hard cheekbones and beloved face. I wanted it so badly that I couldn’t stand it. My whole body throbbed with the need consuming it. For a moment I really wanted to believe that it was him and I wondered if it would allow me to touch it, even if only for a brief moment, before it destroyed me.
My paralysis was falling apart as my hands began to shake so badly that I could barely hold the gun anymore. My lower l
ip was trembling fiercely; the sting of tears burned my eyes. It had his mouth, that beautiful full lower lip and hard upper one. It had his body, lean with hard muscles cording it. The dark shirt he wore clung to the sculpted abs that I knew lingered beneath the shirt, or at least they had with Cade. I wasn’t sure if this thing would be that detailed, but it did have gleaming onyx eyes that seemed to penetrate straight to my very soul.
Oh God!
My mind was shattering, splintering. Tears spilled freely down my face, a sob tore from me. It continued to come swiftly forward with the eerie grace and confidence that Cade had exhibited. Beautiful, it was just as beautiful as Cade had been, and it was going to kill me.
My hands tightened upon the gun. I lifted it up, leveling it at the things chest. It seemed to hesitate for a moment, seemed doubtful, but then it kept coming relentlessly forward at an even brisker pace. I wanted to tell it to stop, wanted to tell it to go away, to leave me alone, but words could not escape my painfully constricted throat. My chest was twisted with agony. I was going to kill Cade.
It wasn’t Cade! My mind screamed at me.
But now that it was only feet away from me, I could see it even more clearly. Oh its eyes, I thought longingly. They were dark as midnight when angered, or the most clear and pristine onyx that the world would ever create when loving. They were beautiful.
A strangled sob escaped me. I couldn’t pull the trigger. I simply could not bring myself to put a bullet into that face, or to hurt him in anyway. Even if it wasn’t him. I knew what that thing was, knew what it was going to do to me. I had seen it with Sarah; I had felt it in Plymouth. It was going to kill me, it was going to destroy me in the most agonizing way possible, and I couldn’t bring myself do anything about it.
Weak, I cursed myself. But then Cade had always been my weakness, and somehow these things knew that, and they were going to destroy me with it. I imagined they were thoroughly enjoying my misery and I couldn’t bring myself to care right now. If I put a bullet in Cade, even a Cade that wasn’t, I would be destroyed anyway, I would not recover from it. No matter how much I had managed to put myself together over the past couple weeks, I would never be able to put myself together again after that.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men, I thought hysterically. Couldn’t put Bethany together again.
My head bowed, my shoulders shook, as the gun jerked in my hand. “No,” I moaned.
I hated myself for this weakness. I should be strong, I should fight. I should take this thing down with me. I should destroy it for mocking me, for mocking Cade, and the bond that we had shared. I should want to put a bullet in its face and destroy it for its derisive cruelty. Instead, I could only weep like a baby as I watched my death stop before me.
I winced, bracing myself for the killing blow, bracing myself for the tentacle that would fly out of it, smash into me, and destroy me the way that it had destroyed Sarah. The way that it had torn into my arm, wrenched into my bones and muscles, and seared into my veins. It reached out and seized hold of my hand. I was surprised by the warmth that it radiated, or maybe it just felt that way because I was so unbelievably cold right now that even the deadened awfulness of this thing felt warm against my iced skin. I was surprised by the fact that it still was a hand and not some snapping thing that sought only to drain me of my blood, and my life.
“I am not one of those things.” The voice it issued was hard, grating. It sounded parched.
My eyes flew up as it descended upon me, they could speak? Instead of destroying my face, and skull with a deadly tentacle, its mouth claimed hold of mine. I recoiled slightly, stunned as its hands seized hold of my face and throat. Why was this thing doing this to me? Why was it tormenting me so? Yes, I had fought against them, but I was of no real importance in the fight. I was simply a survivor.
Its thumbs stroked over my cheeks as its hands rested against the tender hollow of my throat. It was going to choke the life from me instead of draining it from me, I realized dimly and yet I felt no fear. I didn’t think there was much fear left in me right now. I was too broken for that now.
Then its words sank in and something strange began to happen. Words actual words. Those things did not speak, they never had. But we were learning new things about them every day. And they were learning new things about us every day. Things that only aided in their attempt and desire to destroy us.
But my body was beginning to react to this thing in a way that it had only reacted to Cade. My mouth began to warm, and then my throat and face. Heat seeped slowly through my whole body. My chest expanded, air burst into my stricken lungs. My heart exploded with the blood that had seemed so restricted before. It pulsed violently through my veins again, rushing through my nerve endings as my body was set ablaze.
Every cell within me came to life; all of them seemed to be screaming forward, rushing to the place where my lips met the thing kissing me. The cells seemed to swell at the touch of this thing, seemed to refill with life as its hot lips moved over mine in a gentle caress that left me aching and trembling for more. The aliens could mimic us, but could they mimic these sensations, these emotions? I hadn’t felt this right, this wonderful and whole in so long. I hadn’t felt this since…
“Cade,” I breathed against the mouth possessing mine.
And then he was pushing me back, bringing me down beneath him. I was stunned, confused adrift in the emotions and disbelief pulsating through me. It was Cade, but it couldn’t be. He was dead. I had given up hope, I was grieving, and I had been trying to salvage the broken bits of me and slowly putting some of those broken bits back together again.
And now he was here. And none of it mattered anymore. The agony and pain were forgotten as his searing touch burned the lingering ache from every fiber of my being.
His hands were hard upon my throat. For a moment I thought that he might kill me in his desire to touch me, to be near me, to feel me again. And I found that I didn’t care as he pressed me into the ground. His body was hot against mine, hard as he pressed closer. I had never felt something so unbelievably wonderful. His kiss became more ferocious, greedier with its need. His need.
I reacted to it, breaking free of the lingering chains of shock that confined me. My hands dug into his back. I was sobbing; I couldn’t get enough of him as I grasped desperately at him. My mouth parted to the fiery invasion of his tongue. I arched beneath him, clinging tighter as his pelvis rocked against mine. His desperate need was overwhelming my senses, overwhelming my mind. The world was spinning rapidly; I was entrenched in the desire, relief, and love that filled me. There had never been anything as wonderful as his hands searing over me, touching me, grasping eagerly at me. Unable to get enough of me.
The depth of his hunger was shocking in its passion. It overwhelmed me. I had felt his longing for me before, his desire, but it had never been this extreme, never been this overpowering before. It was almost animalistic, almost savage. I thought I should fear the overwhelming intensity but I couldn’t, not when he was touching me again, not when I was holding him, not when he was here with me.
Not when he was alive.
I didn’t care what happened now, didn’t care that this was spiraling far beyond my control. Far beyond his, even. That this was spinning into places I had never been before. Nothing mattered except for this moment, and the two of us.
His arm wrapped around my waist, lifting me sharply against his pelvis as he ground against me. I gasped as fire shot through me. The motion jarred my wounded shoulder, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about that even. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him to stop, he could do whatever he wanted just as long as he was still holding me, and remained alive. His mouth broke away from mine, his lips moved over my neck leaving a trail of flames across my skin. I was breathing rapidly, my chest heaving against him as my fingers dug tighter into his back. I had to cling to him; he was the only thing stable in this tumultuous sea of love, need, and growing desire.
I knew
where this was heading and I yearned for it. I craved it like a thirsty man craves water, craved it like a prisoner craves freedom. He was my water, he was my freedom; he was the only one that could sate the needs of my body. Needs that I’d never known until him, needs that I’d forgotten since he’d been taken from me.
He pulled at my shirt, tugging the buttons eagerly open. I gasped as the cool air hit my overheated, over sensitized skin. I expected to feel the hard press of his lips again, but they did not come. I opened my eyes slowly, aching for him to come back to me, but he was unmoving as he kneeled above me. His hair was tussled from what had just passed between us; his expression hard as his swollen lips pinched tight.
At first I didn’t understand what had happened, what was wrong, and then I realized that his dark eyes were locked upon my shoulder. I winced slightly, I wanted to cover the wound marring me, wanted to hide the ugliness from him. He was still perfect, or at least he appeared to be, and I was even more flawed and ugly than when he had last seen me. My body was marred by scars, burns, and brands of horses. I wanted to hide it, but I couldn’t bring myself to release him. Not yet, possibly not ever again.
His eyes came slowly back to me, and though I hadn’t thought it was possible, they appeared even darker. They were chips of black ice, brutal and cold, and filled with an anger I had never thought to see in him. Filled with a smoldering rage that caused my knees to shake slightly against his sides. The desire that had just been burning in his gaze was drenched beneath his growing fury.
“They did that to you?” he grated through clenched teeth.
Taken Over Page 13
