Hybrid (The Healer Series Book 2)

by B. N. Toler

  “I’ve spent my life running from them, Thomas. Lucy was murdered because of this nest. My mother was raped and murdered because of this nest. You...” I stop unable to finish. I will not cry in front of him. He is making me discuss the past, and I swore I wouldn’t do that again.

  “What about me?” he asks softly.

  “Nothing.” I roll my eyes. Telling him how much he hurt me will only make me cry and I can’t do that. His betrayal does play a part in my desire to seek revenge, but only a small part.

  “I’m a product of the nest and I hurt you. Is that it?” he asks stepping towards me.

  I remain silent, staring at the table I stand in front of. “I can’t change the past Aldo, but I can try and prevent bad things in the future.” I shake my head at his audacity. “I still love you Aldo. I can’t let you walk into that nest knowing you could get hurt.”

  “Then what the hell have we been doing this entire time?” I yell. “That has been the plan all along.”

  “I went along with it so I could have time with you.”

  “Oh, so it’s all been a lie? Why am I not surprised?” I yell and begin to walk out of the room, but he grabs me and slams me against the refrigerator.

  “Dammit! Why can’t you just hear me?” he yells, his grip strong on my arms.

  I glare at him. “I heard you Thomas. You’ve been pretending to be with us the entire time, but it’s all been a lie.” I struggle to get out of his grip, but I can’t. His face is close to mine and I feel his energy pulsing through me.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers and his eyes take on a softness. I remain silent, using Sarah as my inspiration. I will not cry. We stare at one another, our breathing labored and in an unexpected move Thomas leans in and kisses me. I attempt to turn my head, but he presses harder preventing it. I struggle, but there’s a moment where I become lost in it, a brief second where I stop fighting and succumb. Maybe a moment of remembering the girl who craved this, needed this because I loved this man. I did, maybe I still do on some level, but too much has happened to go back there now. I begin to twist and fight again until he pulls away. He stares into my eyes and pushes off of me, releasing me. With no words I react and slap him hard across the face.

  He steps back and looks at me, saddened as he touches his cheek. My breathing is heavy and I’m angry, but become more frustrated when I look to the left and see Kaitlynn staring at us. It’s not hard to see how heartbroken she is to have witnessed Thomas kissing me. Her big, blue eyes are filled with something all too familiar to me. She runs out of the apartment, leaving Thomas and I still staring at one another.

  “You’re pretty good at that,” I say, shaking my head.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Breaking young girls’ hearts.” I grab my coat and purse off of the hook by the door and exit, leaving Thomas standing in the kitchen, looking like he’s lost in a fog.

  A few hours later, after I’ve calmed down from my episode with Thomas in the kitchen, I decide to go shopping for some gloves to wear to the club tonight to hide the burn on my hand. I’m still baffled as to why it hasn’t started to heal. It doesn’t hurt badly, but I figured that was because it’s a third degree burn. The edges hurt slightly where it’s not burned as badly, but other than that it’s painless. The scorched skin covers my thumb and half of both sides of my hand and up my arm a bit. In the back of my mind Daniel’s warning that I would become as weak as a human if I didn’t drink blood echoes loudly in my thoughts, but I try to ignore it despite the burn I feel in my belly. Even regular food has lost its appeal to me. My body craves one thing and one thing only. Blood. Maybe I should’ve drank from Daniel the other night when he offered, but I couldn’t. Drinking from him would only make me want him more—crave him more. Every person that passes by me, their energy hums and their heartbeat bangs like a drum in my ears, calling for me to replenish myself with their blood. But I can’t. I’m not strong enough to stop.

  Another thought has plagued me for the last few days after hearing the last name of Thomas’s biological father. Mason. Could it be sheer coincidence that Rhett’s last name happens to be Mason? I might have been suspicious of Rhett being Thomas’s father, but the math doesn’t add up. Plus, Rhett said he never gave them samples. Thomas just turned twenty-seven and Rhett is forty-eight now, or would be. Rhett said his father left when he was fifteen years old so that would be thirty-three years ago. That leaves a six year gap between the time Rhett’s father left and the time Rhett and Sarah were taken to the nest. It seems impossible that Rhett and Thomas could be half-brothers. I’m literally so floored at the idea I can’t decide how to feel about it. It could just be a coincidence Rhett has the same last name as Thomas’s biological father, but there is one giant coincidence I cannot ignore. Rhett and Thomas are both dream walkers. They have to be brothers. There’s no other explanation.

  I find a pair of long gloves with the fingertips cut off at a boutique not too far from the club. As I pay for them, a man is watching me in line behind me.

  “Ma’am, how long have you had that burn?” he questions me and I look at him suspiciously, stranger weary.

  “A couple of days.”

  “May I look at it? I’m a doctor.” He smiles and slips on a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket.

  “Uh, okay,” I say, still trying to be cautious. I extend my hand out and he eyes it.

  “Do you mind pulling your sleeve up a bit?” I pull my sleeve up just above my wrist and he takes my hand turning it back and forth gently. “How many days have you had this?”

  “Three days.” I pull my sleeve back down.

  “Miss, you should get that checked out immediately.” His voice sounds concerned.

  “Oh, it’s getting better. Doesn’t even hurt now,” I smile reassuringly.

  “I think you may be getting blood poisoning,” he says in a serious tone.

  “No, it’s fine, really. Thank you for your concern.” I smile and turn to go.

  “Please ma’am. My name is Doctor Robert Wilford. Come see me if you start getting sick.”

  “I will. Thanks.” I exit the store ignoring him. He’s a sweet guy, but I’m no average human. Shrugging him off, I tell myself I can’t get things like blood poisoning. But my inner self shakes her head disappointedly; she knows I’m hiding from the truth. I am sick; I just won’t admit it.

  When I get back to the apartment, I pull out the recipe Lucy had left for me in the wooden box. I collected the ingredients long ago, but never mixed them. The ingredients are odd, but I follow the instructions, mixing the garlic, silver shavings, and holy water. I had to steal the holy water from St. Paul’s Catholic Church so I’m not sure how holy it is. The final ingredient is five milliliters of healer blood. I cut my arm with a kitchen knife and bleed over the bowl, realizing I may have cut myself a little deeper than I intended to. I want to triple the recipe so I make my best guess as to when I’ve contributed enough blood to the mix before I pull my arm away.

  I focus on the wound, trying to heal it enough to stop the bleeding, but it doesn’t work. Shit! I scurry to the bathroom, holding my arm in the air as my blood runs down it, hoping to keep any from getting on the carpet. Once I’m in the bathroom, I hold my arm over the sink while I fumble around in the medicine cabinet when I realize there are no first aid supplies. Why would there be? Healers live here.

  I lean on the sink, unsure of what to do as my arm is bleeding badly. I’ve never needed bandages or doctors. I stand and stare at myself in the mirror. You’re losing your gift, my subconscious chimes in. Shaking it off, I rinse my arm, grabbing a towel and running back to Corbin’s room before anyone might see me.

  Stealing an old, white T-shirt from his closet, I start tearing strips off of it. As I wrap my arm gingerly, Kaitlynn bursts through the door.

  “Do you mind?” I hiss, pulling Corbin’s bedspread over me, trying to hide my arm. If the others find out about my wound and my inability to heal it, they will never let me dance for And
re. She stands frozen for a moment, eyeing me.

  “What do you want?” I ask annoyed.

  “You’re bleeding,” she says plainly.

  “No, I’m not.” I just happen to be sitting on the floor covered by a comforter for no reason at all.

  “There was blood on the floor in the bathroom.” She quirks an inquisitive brow.

  “Oh, sorry. I cut my leg shaving. I’ll clean the floor up in a minute.” I smile. It’s not a completely unbelievable lie. Healers can be cut and bleed, just not for long.

  “It’s quite a bit of blood to be a shaving cut.”

  “I said I’d clean it up!” I manage through clenched teeth.

  She rolls her eyes. “Right. Carter wants you to come in early.” With that she shuts my door.

  I quickly tie my bandage, layering it with a second one to ensure it won’t bleed through. I slip my elbow length gloves on, wincing as the fabric rubs my burn. After, I quickly mix Lucy’s recipe—that I had to leave to attend to my cut—I place it in a small vile with a beaker I bought from the drugstore. The recipe says it just takes a drop, but nothing more. I’m not exactly sure where the drop goes, but I guess I’ll have to wing it.

  Searching the bathroom, I clean up the drops of blood on the floor with wads of toilet paper, checking the sink and surrounding areas, but find nothing. I return to my room and dress quickly.

  Stopping at a drugstore on the way to work, I buy liquid bandage. I have to seal this cut before my dance with Andre tonight. After I pay, I use the store bathroom and attend to my wound wrapping some fresh gauze around it, just in case, before I leave the store and as I’m passing a nearby coffee shop I hear, “Kitten.”

  I turn and see Daniel approaching me. My heart lurches.

  “Nice to see you fully dressed for once.” He smirks referring to the fact I was naked the majority of our last encounter.

  I give him a saccharine smile. “I was just thinking it had been so long since I’d seen a giant asshole. And here you are.” Not the best comeback, but at least it was something.

  “You look like shit.” His gray eyes stare down at me. It’s true, I do. Daniel on the other hand looks like sex on stick, as usual. White long john shirt and broken in denim jeans. His hair loose and his beard trimmed tightly.

  “Full of compliments today, I see,” I say dryly.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You haven’t been to your hotel in days, I thought maybe you—”

  “Aw, were you worried about me?” I pretend to pout. “I’m sure Thomas filled you in on my whereabouts.”

  His jaw tenses and he grabs my arm causing a frenzy to explode within me. My blood fizzes inside of me. “You’re weak.” He pulls my arm and leads me into an alley.

  “You know, Daniel, I was almost raped in an alley, so they aren’t exactly my favorite place to socialize.”

  I’m speechless when he backs me up against the brick wall of the building. His scent is intoxicating, but something is missing.

  “Did you quit smoking?”

  “Cutting back,” he answers irritably.

  “Does that mean you’ll be an even bigger ass than usual?”

  “Still planning on screwing your way to murdering Andre?”

  I cut him an evil glare, but don’t respond.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “What do you want Daniel?”

  “You’re an imbecile.” He shakes his head with frustration. “No, imbecile is too nice of a word for you. You are asinine, moronic, feebleminded—”

  I finally jerk his arm enough he releases his hold on me. “Fuck you, Daniel. You don’t know anything about me.”

  “More than you think.” He stands with his arms crossed blocking the exit from the alley.

  “Is that so?” I brush off the brick remnants from my coat.

  “I know you think using your body to lure him in will give you an opportunity to destroy him. But it’s not that simple, love.”

  He’s intimidating in every sense of the word, from his deep gravelly voice to his build; to those damn gray eyes I keep getting lost in every time I look at him. His size casts over me and I feel tiny in comparison to him. What is it about this man that keeps me hooked like a crack addict jonesing for her next hit? “I’m not a hooker, Daniel. I’m just utilizing what resources I have. You’re the one that said it’s how a female hybrid catches their prey.”

  Daniel’s eyes run up and down my body and he makes one of those nasal laughs. Apparently he thinks my body is a joke.

  “I get someone of your…taste,” I roll my eyes, “who likes porn-star wannabes wouldn’t find me attractive, but obviously Andre does.” I refuse to let his snort hurt my ego. Of course, it is in fact destroying my ego.

  “Listen here, kitten. I’m not here to hold your hand and tell you you’re pretty. I would think your fans at the club give you enough reassurance in that regard. You shouldn’t need mine.”

  I open my mouth to tell him I could give a rat’s ass about how he views me, but he holds his hand up, stopping me.

  “Andre wants you. Do you understand what that means?”

  I try to remain calm. It means a lot of things, good and bad. “Yes, I do,” I say coolly with my best poker face. Suddenly, I’m slammed back against the wall and Daniel’s body is leaned against mine, suffocating me as his hand presses against my chest.

  His mouth lingers near mine for a moment before he says, “You’ve been kissed by another man today.” It’s not a question.

  Holy shit! How does he know that? Images of Thomas flash through my mind. My lips still feel swollen from the emotionally charged kiss he laid on me earlier.

  “You must’ve forgotten to spell Thomas into keeping his hands off of me. Besides, what’s it to you who kisses me?” I snicker as he still presses his body against mine.

  “I can smell him. His after-shave,” he growls and shakes his head. “You like going around being one big fucking cock tease, don’t you?”

  Angered by his words, I lunge my body at him, but he’s as firm and unmovable as the brick wall he has me pressed against. “If I recall, you are the one that has stopped the last two times we were about to…” I don’t know what to say, make love? Would he laugh at me if I said that? “I guess other guys wouldn’t be as reluctant to take me. Whether I’m a virgin or not.”

  “Especially Andre.” He puts his mouth to my ear. “If you think he’ll take it easy on you, you got another thing coming. If he finds out you’re a virgin, he’ll probably make it rougher. And when I say rough, I mean he’s going to put his dick anywhere he can.”

  I try to jerk free from him, but Daniel presses harder against me again.

  “When he’s done with you, he may keep you for a while or he’ll toss you to the group so they can each have a turn with you before they drain you.” His voice is deep and his breath tickles my ear.

  “And you too, right?” I glare up at him.

  His gray eyes burn into mine, lit with anger, and I can feel his erection as it presses against my belly from behind his jeans. “Make no mistake. I will have your sweet little ass. But you have some growing up to do first.”

  I tear my eyes away as my face flames with heat. I still my body, realizing the more I fight, the harder he presses into me.

  “Did I embarrass you?” he chuckles.

  “Growing up to do?” I question. I take his hand and place it on my breast. “I assure you, I’m plenty grown up.”

  A slow hissing sound escapes his mouth as he sucks in air through his teeth.

  “Do you usually corner young women and jam your…privates against them?”

  “I seem to remember someone wanting my privates jammed against them just a few nights ago.” His hand remains on my breast when I finally pull it off.

  “Get off of me,” I hiss.

  Daniel pushes off of me and I collapse to the ground.

  “You need blood. That’s why you’re weak.” He bites his arm and kneels before me, a
nd I stare at it, fixated, before I slap his arm away while my mouth waters simultaneously. My belly rages with hunger. I want his blood so badly it hurts, but I can’t allow myself to go there. “You will die if you don’t drink blood.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” I push myself up and begin brushing my clothes off.

  Daniel shakes his head frustrated. “You really are an idiot.”

  “Okay, I get you think I’m a joke, so why even bother speaking with me, Daniel? Consider me a flunky of your hybrid training course. A drop out. The pathetic girl who tried to get into your pants and you shut down. Why do you care what I do with Andre? Is this just some kind of sick pleasure you get off on by seducing me and then turning me down? Because I’m over it. Fuck you! If you’re done insulting me, I have things to do today.”

  “He’ll find out.”

  “What?” I manage, still trying to catch my breath.

  “Andre, he’ll find out what you are.”

  I freeze, unable to breathe. “A virgin?” I manage after a beat.

  “And a healer. He wants you badly.”

  “Good thing I’m a hybrid.”

  “You are far from it, my dear. You’re weak.”

  “He thinks I’m a human?”

  “Speaking plain English here, kitten.”

  “So he thinks I’m human and wants me anyway?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to turn me in?”

  His jaw tenses. “Unbelievable. You want to give me your virginity, but you think I’m a fucking vampire soldier or something.” He lets out a groan of frustration.

  I can’t blame him for that. It doesn’t exactly make sense to me either.

  “No, I’m going to help you.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Why?” I look around to see if anyone is watching us. “You think I’m worthless.”

  “Because you need it.” He runs a hand through his shaggy hair.

  “And how will you help me?” I adjust the glove covering my burned hand as the fabric is rubbing and it hurts. Daniel watches me as I do this.