There were stars in my eyes as he limped closer, but I still got to my feet, ready to meet him. He eyed me warily, his fists up in a defensive position, but made no move to strike me again.
“Listen,” he said, voice thick and raspy from blood and smoke, “just stop for a minute. Stop it! I don’t know what the fuck bug has crawled up your ass, but you’re going to knock it off and come with us. You hear me? You’re not dying in this house. I want to know how you found me, why you’re doing this, and what the hell you have to do with the hunters outside when you’re so obviously tainted with Other blood.”
Tainted. There was a word for it. I was tainted all right.
‘Tainted with the blood of thy enemies, perhaps, but you have the upper hand here. He wouldn’t be calling for a truce if he thought he could win by force. Take him now. Don’t let him get away.’
My chest heaved, every breath burning both inside and out. I used my arm to wipe some sweat and blood off my brow, flinging sweaty curls out of my eyes. Chaz took another step closer, edging nearer bit by bit, while blood turned black from silver taint slowly leaked down his side, staining his jeans.
“I don’t care if it’s the vampire, Shia. I really don’t. I don’t want you to die in here. Come with me.”
I blinked slowly, not quite processing that last. My jaw hurt, the words coming out haltingly and with a wince or two in between. “What do you mean, ‘if it’s the vampire’? What the hell are you talking about?”
He waved some of the smoke out of his face, then held out his hand. “Whoever made you Other. You smell more like him than like a Were. Come on, let’s go!”
I ignored the offered hand. Stepped closer, fingers twitching above the handles of the stakes. Had to wait to use them until I was close enough that he couldn’t stop me.
“Dillon changed me. Dillon infected me,” I spat.
That seemed to throw him through quite a loop. Hell, I almost believed his nonplussed expression, though it was a little hard to see under the mass of cuts and bruises on his face. “What?”
“You heard me. Don’t tell me you didn’t see it in the papers. The picture Pradiz snapped of my being scratched back at the cabins. Dillon did it, Chaz. If not for your fucked-up pack, and their fucked-up politics, and your fucked-up sense of responsibility, my life wouldn’t be a complete fucking mess right now. J.P. would be alive. You and your whole goddamned pack have a lot to answer for.”
He stared at me, thunderstruck.
It gave me the opportunity to step in close enough to draw a stake and go for his chest, hopefully to land a clean kill as I had with Dillon.
Chaz twisted his torso back, avoiding the killing blow, though the sharp tip still sliced him open across the chest. He slapped my hand aside, then rushed at me, nearly cracking my ribs as he slammed me into the wall again.
Embers and flaming bits of plaster rained down on us, stinging my eyes, burning my cheeks. He ignored the pain he must have been feeling from the fire licking at his skin, one large palm holding my head steady so I had no choice but to look into his eyes. He had to blink away blood from the cuts I’d inflicted when I’d whaled on his face. His voice was a low, husky growl, and I could see the tips of upper and lower fangs peeking through his lips as he spoke.
“Listen to me, Shiarra, and listen good. My pack isn’t perfect. Never claimed it was. But we’re not murderers. I know who killed Jim Pradiz, and I’ve been trying to find him for the last three weeks so I can clear myself. This isn’t the time or the place for me to explain all this to you. Stop fighting, now, and come with me!”
All the while, the belt was speaking, too.
‘See how he lies. What story do you think he’s cooked up to save his ass this time? Do you think it’s as convincing as what he tried to tell you about why he was sleeping around behind your back? I wonder ...’
Blinded by tears of rage, I lashed out, renewing my earlier attack of punching, kicking, and biting, even though I wasn’t in a good position for it. He’d never stop lying. He’d never stop trying to find a way to make me fit into the mold of stupid, human girlfriend. From the very beginning, all he’d ever done was lie and cheat and manipulate me. And I hated that I was so dizzy I could barely stand up, choking from the smoke in the air, my vision blurred with tears and ashes.
‘just a little more. Find that well of strength. The one deep down. Right near your heart. Draw on it.’
Sobbing, I struck at Chaz with all the force I could muster, though everything was going hazy and black at the edges. All he did was hold my upper arms so I couldn’t hit him too hard or grab one of the stakes or guns again. I was on the verge of passing out, and even with the belt’s help, I wasn’t coming back from that precipice. Still, I kicked at him, each strike a little slower and less powerful than the last. Mostly I went for his shins and knees, hoping that would force him to step back and give some ground.
‘You’re wearing yourself out. Concentrate. Think. Aim for his weakest spot.’
I went for another cheap shot between his legs, lifting my knee, but he swiveled his hips to avoid it, then shook me like a rag doll. As much as I wanted to claw his eyes and tear his heart out with my bare hands, then feed it to him with a rusty spoon, the trip down the stairs and the last blow to my head had damaged me somehow, or I’d inhaled too much smoke.
I’d failed. It was so hard to breathe. My muscles were weakening, going slack, one by one.
‘Don’t stop. Don’t! Live, damn it, you fucking rookie, you have to live!’
The heat was so intense that the tears on my cheeks were drying almost as quickly as they leaked from my eyes. My hair was getting singed; the smell was awful, even beyond the way the burning building already smelled. I couldn’t see a thing anymore, but I kept trying to strike out any which way I could.
Of course, that’s when my muscles seized on me. A strange lethargy was eating away at my energy, sapping what little was left until I could no longer move. Even the effort to take a breath was becoming impossible.
This was it. This was really it. I was dying.
Distantly, I felt Chaz picking me up, but I could no longer see or fight against that hated touch. Wasn’t sure if I cared enough to fight anymore. Even with all the belt had to offer, after all my hard work, after weeks of hunting and worrying and going insane with the need for revenge and closure, I’d failed.
‘No. NO. I will not accept defeat. Not this close. Get up. Get up!’
My body gave out. The belt’s angry tirade faded into whispers, then nothing as the ache of despair and failure followed me into the blackness.
Chapter 21
(Days left to full moon: 2)
When I opened my eyes, I was in Jack’s loft apartment, sprawled on the couch I’d originally claimed as my bed. It wasn’t hard to figure out where I was. I recognized the tacky painting of New York’s skyline with the LED lights. Honestly, who decorated with those anymore?
Every part of my body ached abominably. A sharp twinge in my side that worsened every time I took a breath heralded another broken rib. My face felt like a sack of bricks had been dropped on it, and my muscles were so sore, even lifting an arm to cover my mouth when I coughed was almost too much effort to bear.