#2 - Blue

Carolina Wolf
By Sela Carsen
http://selacarsen.com/
From Samhain Publishing  Buy the Book HERE



Maddox caught himself against a wall, leaving a smear of blood behind.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I need a shower.”

“You need a doctor,” she answered. “And you’re freezing. Why are you so cold?”

“No doctors,” he said, ignoring the second part of her question. “I’ll heal by morning.”

Debra bent and gathered the blanket, pulling it up around his body. She stared at his chest the whole time over the tops of her glasses. 

He would have chuckled, but it hurt too much to be amused. That clever, subtle avoidance maneuver probably fooled most people.

She took up her position under his shoulder and led him through her bedroom into the master bath. The lights were off, but he saw clearly enough to make out the light cotton blanket, the rumpled pillows, the stacks of books on and around her nightstand.

The bathroom was clean, but cluttered with female paraphernalia—makeup, mirrors, creams and combs. The smells should have been overwhelming, but they were only a stronger, colder version of her. It wasn’t until they combined with the essence of Debra that they became enchanting.

Debra, Debra. Pretty, bewitching Debra.

He didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until he opened his eyes and she was staring at him.

“Do you need something?”

“What?”

“You said my name. Do you need me?”

Wrong question. The shower was running, heating the water and steaming the air around them, cushioning his senses until all he could breathe was her.

The silver was sapping his strength, stealing the warmth from his blood. The danger of silver was not only the damage of the wound itself, it also tainted the blood, draining the heat out of their bodies. Silver-killed werewolves froze from the inside out.

He lurched to his feet from his seat on the toilet lid. She had an enclosed shower big enough for two people with glass sliding doors—no tub to step over—and he stumbled inside, hissing as the water stung his skin with hot needles. The blanket fell again, this time with a wet plop. She reached in to get it out of his way, but he snagged her arm and pulled her all the way into the shower with him.

He needed her. To hold him, to help him, to be with him, to fill him.

She squealed when the water hit her full in the face, but he slid the shower door shut. Maddox pulled her closer and brushed the wet hair out of her eyes.

She spluttered, but her words weren’t important. Nothing was important but his need. The moment her soaked clothes touched his skin, the cold went away. As long as she touched him, he knew he’d survive.

“Maddox, you’re sick. You need a doctor.”

“No. Need you. Just you.” And he kissed her.

God. She tasted even better than she smelled—purer, simpler, richer, more complex. He could willingly spend decades sifting out the different flavors of Debra. She stood stiffly in his arms and he didn’t know what to do about it, didn’t know how to help her. Didn’t know how to tell her what he needed from her now.

Maddox raised his mouth from hers and stared down into her face, water dripping from her eyelashes, running in streams down her cheeks, dangling at her chin before falling into oblivion.

“Please, Debra. Help me.” He’d never begged before. Never needed to before, but he was sick and hurt and if she didn’t help him now… 

He couldn’t even finish the thought. She had to help him, even if she didn’t know how.

He bent to her face again, but not to kiss her. Not right away. Drops of water slid over her skin as though they had the right. His tongue caught one beside her lips, and the taste of his mate exploded on his tongue, made him greedy for more. More drops enticed him and he lapped at her mouth, pulling her closer when she finally opened to him, letting him into her body. Accepting him. Trusting him.

There it was. As if a door opened and she invited him in, Maddox let his mind touch hers, its light sharp and pure and blinding.

He was stunned. Humans usually didn’t have enough of a soul-light to heal themselves, much less anyone else. But there was brilliance enough here for magic like he’d never seen. And this part of her was untouched. She’d never let anyone into her heart before. It was all for him. He was too grateful to be greedy, so he simply basked in the glow, letting it flow into him, fill him until there was no room left for the poison.

In his weakness, her hands caressed and held him as tenderly as a healer, a mother, a lover. A woman. His woman. As the light overflowed him, he left her mind and came back to his.

His senses were clearing, the toxic metal leaving his body. Maddox looked over at his shoulder and watched the sluggish trail of tainted blood seep down his arm and drip to the floor, swirl into the drain. The last atom of silver left his body and he heaved a great draft of steamy air, finally warm all the way through.

“Thank you for healing me.” Then the weakness took him.