Page 21 of Bonded By Blood

Chapter Six

Everything around him was chaos. His body ached as if he’d far exceeded his physical limits on some crazy workout regimen. His mouth and throat were so dry they burned. His skin itched. And he could hear each and every tiny sound as if it were amplified on a loudspeaker up against his eardrums. He’d hesitated to turn on the shower, knowing it would be loud, but the constant deluge of water soothed his skin. After a couple of agonizing minutes, the consistency of the sound from the water crashing down on the tile and splattering off the glass doors became a sort of balm to his nerves.

Everything still hurt. The bit of shower water he’d let fall on his tongue had turned his stomach, so he’d curled into himself like a child and shifted his weight to lean against the wall. It was a while, maybe, before he realized he was shaking. Trembling, even with his arms around his knees. He told himself it was from the chill of the water, but the part of his brain that could think knew better.

Joe knew why he’d woken up that morning. Why the screaming of the birds shortly after sunrise had eventually pulled him back to consciousness when he should have been dead. But it wasn’t until sometime after he’d locked himself in the master bath and settled in the shower that he remembered Tobias’s words.

“I said I’d kill you, Pearce. I never said you’d be dead.”

Joe unlocked his jaw just enough to inch his tongue to the side and physically flinched at the elongated canine in his mouth. He felt one on the right, and one on the left. A matching pair. Which made perfect sense … for a vampire.

He curled his hands into fists and leaned back, banging his head semi-deliberately against the tile wall. I’m a vampire. Tobias Wilson had Turned him, and then abandoned him. Why? Had he hoped Joe would wake and immediately run outside to start feasting on his neighbors? Perhaps an ordinary person, with no comprehension of what was happening to them, might look to someone nearby for help and unwittingly succumb to their bloodlust. But Joe was educated. He’d heard stories, nightmares, of vampires left to navigate the Turn. Many of those never recovered enough to be accepted by a decent Family. Oh, God. He had to think about that kind of thing now.

What the hell am I going to tell Adam? He couldn’t go anywhere near the pack while he was adjusting to his new self. But if he just disappeared, sooner or later Adam or Jim would come looking for him. Even the thought of being around a living person made his stomach rumble with anticipation, and in turn the realization that he was so hungry for a living person’s blood made him want to be ill.

A sudden, bursting sound from somewhere beyond the bathroom door startled Joe from his confused, garbled train of thought and he sat upright. He fixed his stare on the door between him and the rest of the house, the rest of the world. He hadn’t locked his front door, he realized. It hadn’t entered his mind to check it. All he’d thought, when he’d woken up, was to get as far away from outside as possible. His master bath had the smallest window in the house, thereby making it the hardest to get out of.

Joe held his breath, straining his ears to hear over the cacophony of the raining shower.

The bathroom door practically flew off its hinges.

The moisture in the room rushed out through the new opening as fresher air spilled in, bringing with it a slew of new smells, some more stomach churning than others. But it was the sight of long, loose, practically shining blonde hair that focused his gaze. He followed the billowing strands backward, up, until he found the classically feminine face they belonged to.

Brianna….

He wanted to be relieved at the sight of her, but a part of him was filled with trepidation. He hadn’t asked for this. Even if he’d wanted to become a vampire, he would never have wanted to Turn in this way. But would any of that matter? He knew a lot about the supernatural world as a whole, but he didn’t know much about the inner workings of First Family territory. Was he already considered an intruder?

There was so much to think about.

“Joe,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, yet it carried easily over the water. She moved forward quickly, slid the glass door open, and turned off the water. “Mercy, Joe. You’re soaked.” She lowered until she was almost kneeling, the bottom edges of her skirt resting solidly in the standing water of the shower floor, and held out a hand. “Come out of there. The shower won’t help.”

He tried to swallow, but ended up choking, and looked away. He couldn’t remember a time he’d been more humiliated.

“Joe.”

He pried his lips apart, but when he went to speak he cut his tongue on one of his newly-elongated canines and his voice cracked over his parched throat. All that came out was a half-syllable and a groan.

Brianna sighed, the sound sad, and the next thing he knew she’d moved close enough to hook her hands beneath his armpits and haul him to his feet. Another mark on the humiliation tally. “Come on,” she said, her voice quiet and gentle. She kept her arm around his back but gave him no option other than to leave the shower stall. “You need to dry off.”

When he offered no resistance, she guided him to the middle of the bathroom, more or less in front of the vanity mirror, and stepped in front of him. She pushed aside some of the hair that had been plastered to his face and offered him a sympathetic smile. “I’ll go dig out something dry for you to wear. You get out of these clothes, okay? No running away on me.” She tried for a little amusement, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’d catch you, anyway.”

Knowing better than to try speaking again, Joe lifted his lips at the corners. He didn’t feel like smiling much, but he wanted her to know he was listening. She was trying to help him get himself together. He certainly needed the help, and she was one of a generous three vampires he trusted. Not all of whom lived in California.

Brianna cupped his face between her palms and pulled him down in order to press a kiss to his nose. “One step at a time.” She turned, snatched a towel off the rack along the wall, and set it deliberately on the counter to make sure he understood what to do, before stepping from the room.

Joe let out a heavy breath, tried again to swallow—with minutely better results—and began peeling his soaked, day-old clothing from his body. Only as he tugged the shirt from his head did he remember it was the shirt he’d been Turned—murdered—in. The once dried blood along the collar and down the front had lightened and spread across the fabric with the infusion of massive amounts of water. Oh well. It was ruined, anyway.

He tossed his clothes aside one item at a time, in the general direction of the shower just to keep them out of his way. Each movement was a little easier than the last, but not by much. His body still hurt and the burning in his throat seemed to be getting worse. He could guess what that was. He’d been awake for a while, he assumed. Hours, if Brianna was on time. Everything he’d ever heard said newborn vampires had a nearly overwhelming thirst.

Joe shook his head, refusing to let himself fall to his fears so quickly, and reached for the towel on the counter. Brianna’s quiet voice drifted out to him from the bedroom. She wasn’t talking to him, but he focused on her words. If only for something else to occupy his mind.

“I need a car, an extra driver, and a kit,” Brianna said, her voice calm and controlled. A little too controlled, perhaps. “Yes, that kind of kit. There’s a situation. Do you have a pen?” She repeated Joe’s address and fell silent, presumably listening to the person on the phone. “Tell her I’m fine. I don’t know all the details yet. She’ll have to be patient.”

Her? Details? Joe worked on trying to piece together her conversation while he toweled himself off.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, but if agreeing will speed up the process, fine,” Brianna said, a twinge of irritation seeping into her voice. “Get me what I need, that’s not a request.”

Joe barely had the towel around his waist when Brianna stepped into his line of sight again. She’d ended her call and had a pile of clothes in her hands. He managed another close-lipped smile. This time at least his new fangs didn’t scrape against anything.