Page 74 of Fanged Embrace
Her aura radiated outward, bitter and chaotic, too many tangled emotions overlapping one another. In a way, my partnering up with her seemed to send her into an internal crisis. On one hand, she appreciated the company, the care. But the other part of her, the traumatized voice in her head, screamed for her to pull away from any semblance of softness I had to offer.
That’s why she got defensive, cagey. She had to admit that she needed help, but she didn’t want to need it in the first place. There was a war going on in her head and I could do nothing to soothe it.
“Laurie, I get it—” I faltered, struggling to find the words that wouldn’t have her clamming up further. “I don’t want to tell you what to do, or how to do it. I just… I want you to take care of yourself. I want you tosurvivethis?—”
“It doesn’tmatter.” She cut me off, voice cracking on that last word. “It doesn’t matter whether I live or die, River. You want to keep me safe? You want to keep talking like I have someshiny future on the horizon? Idon’t.I’m already running on borrowed time.”
The statement rocked me. Her aura convulsed. Grief, fury, resignation all tangling together. I felt it like shards under my skin.
“As long as we take down the organization,” Laurie let out a serrated breath, shutting her eyes to the world as she banged her head back on the wall, “it doesn’t matter what happens to me. It doesn’t matter at all.”
36
Laurie
It doesn’t matter.That single statement looped in my mind as I stood there, leaning a head that felt far too heavy back against the wall.It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.
All of my anger and frustration whooshed right out of me as soon as I said it; now all I could feel was tired. But the statement had a completely different effect on River. She snapped.
“That’s not true!”
I started when she slammed a hand against the wall beside my head, her voice ringing out through the alleyway and startling a cluster of pigeons hiding out in the rafters. I watched the mottled gray birds fly off and wished I could do the same—because I couldn’t bear to look into her glassy, tear-pricked eyes a moment longer.
River was still speaking, her voice rising higher and higher, desperate and pleading and tinged with bitter frustration.
“You say it doesn’t matter if you live or die—but what about Arlon? What about…” She gestured at herself, eyes bright with anger and ringed red with unshed tears. “What about me? We had a deal. You promised me time before doing anything drastic—and that includes throwing yourself headlong into danger at every turn.”
She stepped closer, trembling as she hunched over me. “It scared me to find you in trouble tonight. It terrified me when you faced the Doctor. It’s painful knowing that there’s so many ways the world can hurt you more than it already has. I don’t want to lose you.” Her shoulders shook, bowed low along with her head. “If you disappear, I’ll feel your absence for the rest of my life.”
The honesty in her voice hollowed me out. I opened my mouth—but couldn’t find anything to say. My brain supplied arguments: it’s still my life, my choice, and this pain is easier to bear alone. But none of it made it past my lips.
River kept going, voice softer but still rough and jagged, words dropping like lead at our feet. “All I’m asking for is a little bit of time. All I want is to help you—at least let me try.” She flattened her other hand on the wall, bracketing me with her arms. “Stick to the deal, Laurie. Let me try to fix this. Please.” When her words finally ran out, the alley dropped into silence.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look at her. River’s arms quivered. Her face was a mask of pure pain and panic. This vampire, who could kill mortals with her bare hands, was shaking because of me. That realization dug under my ribs like a knife.
And another hit, harsher than the first: the thought of leaving Arlon had never once made me hesitate. Sure, I knew it would hurt him but that seemed inevitable—something that simply could not be helped. But staring at River, looking into her golden, gleaming eyes, for the first time I felt a nudge of hesitation.
I could wreck her with a single bullet to my own head. And that thought, more than anything, fucking hurt.
“I–” My mouth ran dry. I hesitated, conscious of a nerve-searing pain knifing through my chest. “I’m… I’m sorry.” Not a reflex apology—an honest one. Because it hurt. Seeing her like this, the pain she was feeling no longer masked behind her charismatic smile, it hurt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—” My voice cracked and I hung my head, unable to hold her gaze a moment longer. “I didn’t think….”
I didn’t think anyone could ever care this much.
But River did. She cared so much, and I didn’t know what to do with that knowledge. Except maybe, give her what she asked. It was the least I could do.
It was a bad idea to get close to her, closer than I already was, but… River was serious in her request. She wanted me to take it seriously too—and maybe I could. I could give her time and mean it. I could hold off a little longer and… trust her. Trust that maybe, maybe she could find a way to help me after all.
“I’ll stick to the deal,” I murmured, resolved to at least take her plea seriously. To give her a chance, however slim, to find a way to fix things. “You get your time. I’ll… be more careful. I’ll wait.”
When I looked up again, River was scanning my face, her eyes searching for any hint of hesitance. Or deception. But I meant it. I’d give her time.
She must have seen the sincerity in my expression, because a moment later she nodded—a minute gesture—and straightened up. She dropped her hands to her sides and blew out a breath, tilting her face to the sky.
“All right then. Thank you.” When she leveled her gaze at me again, that trademark smile of hers had returned and she crooked a brow at me. “So, these escapees, any idea where they could be hanging about?”
As it turned out, finding the escapees was easier than I had expected, especially with River at my side. I’d forgotten that having a vampire on your team was akin to working with a bloodhound—pun intended. She was able to sniff out the supernatural, picking up their distinct scents while my human nose could smell nothing but sweat and alcohol.
We plunged back into the nightclub together, discreetly avoiding Micky who was babbling to the bouncer about a “succubus with incredibly sharp teeth.”
