“How are you feeling?” Natalia asks.
“Like I’ve been stabbed twenty times in the back.” I offer her a weak smile. I was stabbed seven times, but who’s counting.
“Well, you’re alive. That’s what’s important.”
I grimace and adjust myself as best I can in the bed as thoughts of Rafe’s dad rush through my mind. His dad is the Pack Alpha, and this is how I’m going to meet him for the first time. God, how humiliating. Worry creeps into my thoughts.
Will I be in trouble? Ricardo’s been nice but he’s a healer. I’m sure he’s kind to everyone. But I’m in Pack territory now. I got in a fight with a vampire. It doesn’t matter that it was unprovoked on my end. If the vampires decide to hold the Pack accountable for my actions—for killing one of their people— there could be repercussions for the Pack.
Shit.
The easiest thing for the Pack to do would be to hand me over to the local vampire coven. They have no reason or incentive to protect me. I’m not one of them.
I stare down at my hands. My wolf is anxious. She isn’t happy about what’s to come any more than I am. Should I call Rafe? See if he can help? No. I can’t call him. He would ask questions. He’d want to know what happened, and worse, he’d do something reckless like go after the vampire who attacked me. I can’t let him do that. There’s too much at stake for him.
I worry my lower lip. Okay. No calling Rafe. I stare down at the lingering marks on my skin. The bloody tears on my fingernails. Ricardo says they’ll heal but my body has to replace the blood it lost first. The Lycanthropy virus needs to rebuild itself. So, I’ll look like a broken and battered woman for a few more days at least.
Natalia pulls a chair close to me. Taking a seat, she reaches for my hand, but I stiffen and pull away, unwilling to be touched.
She nods to herself and takes a deep breath while I keep my eyes trained on my hands. I know what she’s going to say.
“Your father couldn’t—”
“I know,” I whisper, not needing her to finish her sentence. Brian is in an important meeting. He can’t get away. I’ve heard it all before. I shouldn’t have expected anything different.
So why is my stomach twisted up in tight ugly knots?
I swipe a tear away from my face hating this display of weakness. But I’m his daughter. You’re supposed to care about your kid, right? When your daughter is attacked by blood-thirsty vampires, you’re supposed to be there. Mom would have been here. She would have held my hand and smoothed my hair back. She would have told me it was going to be okay. And she would have held me and promised nothing like this would ever happen again. She would have protected me.
But Brian wasn’t here. Brian couldn’t protect me.
Another tear escapes and I furiously swipe that one away, too. I’m not a little kid anymore, I remind myself. I don’t need anyone to hold me so I can cry. Sure, someone tried to kill me. But I’m fine. I’m strong. I survived. As long as the Pack doesn’t ...
Natalia releases a breath. It’s a resigned sound. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Isa. Terribly sorry. We live in a harsh world. These,” she pauses, and I can almost hear the grinding of her teeth as she bites out her next words, “creatures, they prey on the weak. On the innocent. It’s why—”
I raise a hand, stopping her. What was I supposed to say to that? Am I supposed to apologize for being a shapeshifter? Agree with her that paranormals are creatures. Is her bias somehow supposed to make me feel better? Is it supposed to fix what happened to me?
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I tell her.
She’s quiet for a moment, but the silence only lasts a minute or two before she asks, “Do you know who did this to you?”
Bitter acid coats my tongue. “A vampire. Two.” I amend.
“Did you see their faces?”
I nod and ignore the spinning sensation that hits me with the movement and bite back the bile in my throat. Ricardo thinks I have a concussion. The result of my head being slammed against the brick wall of the school. But that’s the least of my injuries. “It doesn’t matter. You know it doesn’t. I don’t have a Pack.”
“Was the assault strictly physical or did he …” she trails off and tilts her head towards my thighs, a pained expression on her face. My pants are ripped. The top of my pants shredded. Some of that is from my partial shift but some of it isn’t.
“No,” I tell her, thankful I can reassure her of that at least. “They didn’t…” I swallow hard. “I wasn’t raped.”
“Okay.” She nods to herself. “Okay. Good,” she says the second firmer as if coming to some sort of decision.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful I didn’t experience that kind of abuse. I’m not sure I could have survived something like that. But being brutalized the way I was, I don’t think I’ll be able to forget what was done to me for a very long time. My blood still burns. My nerves are still frayed and on fire. But I’m coping. I know it will get easier. I just need more time.
My mind goes back to the attack. To him holding me down. To the stabs in my back with the silver blade and then …
My breaths come out as shallow pants and suddenly Natalia is right in my face. My vision tunnels and I clutch at my chest.
“Isa. Isa.”
