Page 37 of Deathless
“No!” I screamed.
The mirror cracked, and I slumped to the floor. I didn’t know if it was the Dark Mother or me that did that, but I felt truly in control for the first time since I woke up after the bonfire.
Only I knew something was different.
I had control for now, but that rotten deity was still inside me. She had retreated for the moment, but she would come back and fight me. For control of my own body.
I rubbed at my arms, curling into a ball on the bathroom floor. I’d never felt so utterly violated in my life. My own skin was not a safe place to be.
I couldn’t let her win, couldn’t let her have full possession of me. But she had been right. My human body had limits, and it already felt like I was there. I was exhausted, weak, and felt so small. A kitten scratching at a full-grown lion.
There was only one solution my exhausted, pain-addled brain could think of, and it brought tears to my eyes. No, there had to be another way.
“There isn’t,” I whispered aloud to myself, looking out the bathroom door to the gun holster in the chair I’d almost reached.
The Dark Mother wouldn’t let me do it. She’d stop me again. No one in my club would, especially not my men. Devin might’ve been happy to once upon a time, but things had changed between us. We were practically friendly at this point.
Even if I explained what was happening, if I said this was necessary to prevent the Dark Mother from gaining a vessel, they either wouldn’t believe me or wouldn’t be able to bring themselves to do it.
There was only one person who could do it. And he would be the only one willing to.
I climbed shakily to my feet, again grasping the sink for support. I avoided looking in the mirror as I splashed water on my face and rinsed out my mouth. Then I pulled on some clean clothes, as well as my holster with the gun still in place.
Tezca had disappeared, and I felt truly alone as I left the bedroom. The house was quiet as I reached the ground floor, but there was activity out front.
It sounded like a barbecue, with the sounds of conversations and the sizzle of something cooking on the outdoor grill. Through the window, I saw Santos throwing a football to someone. He was smiling, laughing, then running to catch the ball as it was thrown back to him.
Torr was at the grill, idly snapping a pair of tongs as he talked to LJ.
I ached to go out there, to greet their smiling faces with a grin of my own. To accept embraces and kisses, to be pulled into conversations and maybe even a touch football game. I watched it play out like a movie. Like I was outside of my own body, a ghost of my former self.
I couldn’t bring myself to go out there. I wouldn’t be able to hide the heartbreak of what I was about to do, the sorrow of never seeing them again. I couldn’t subject them to that. I should just let them be happy.
I turned away from the scene in the driveway and headed for the back door. Going through, I closed it as quietly as I could behind me.
It was an unseasonably warm night, probably why everyone was outside.
I looked at the back porch of the house next door. He was standing there, looking up at the stars with his tattooed forearms on the railing, a beer bottle dangling from one hand. The fact that he was the only one out back solidified the belief that this needed to be done. And I needed him to do it.
“Hudson,” I said, stepping off my porch.
His head snapped over to face me and he straightened, guarded and stiff at the mere sight of me.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” I lifted my palms as I approached. “Can we talk?”
He didn’t answer. His jaw was clenched tight, as was his grip on that beer bottle. Sharp blue eyes fell to the weapon holstered at my hip. Of course, my open palms meant nothing.
Moving slowly, I kept one hand raised as the other went for my gun. I placed it, barrel facing the woods, on the railing in front of him, and then walked away from the weapon. “That’s my only firearm. You can hold onto it if you want.”
His gaze flicked to the gun, though he didn’t touch it. After a few seconds, he unclenched his jaw enough to mutter, “What do you want from me?”
I took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in my chest. “I need a favor from you.”
Hudson flinched like I’d physically touched him. “I don’t do things for women anymore.”
“It’s not like that,” I protested. “I don’t have much time to explain but I...”
Oh God. Would I even be able to say it?
