One wrong step, p.26
One Wrong Step, page 26
Looking around the lounge, it was simple and quaint. Perched on the back of a couch, there was a kitchenette to the left of me, the window looking out over one of the village squares. To my right was a door to the bedroom and ensuite. Everything was wooden, like a cabin, and the peeked roof made it seem larger than it was. Looking over the walls, though, I saw hanging weapons and shields, all in various stages of use. There was also a desk showered with random pieces of paper and an enormous stack of scrolls. It felt lived in, comfy.
“Hay.” A soft voice drew my gaze and Cas approached on padded steps. “Shower’s ready for you. Clean clothes too. If you leave your dirty ones in the bedroom, I’ll get them washed.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, pulling my dirty hoodie sleeves over my hands.
Easing past him, I ducked into the bedroom with calming blue walls, the bed neatly made and a small chair by the window, accompanied by a table and book. On the bed, there were some baggy grey sweats and a large black tee. Entering the tiny bathroom, I found a rolltop bathtub with a white shower curtain and all the normal amenities under a sloping roof. Peeling off my clothes, I tossed them onto the bedroom floor before closing the door and stepping into the falling spray.
The water splashed up my legs, pouring over my shoulders and down my back. My skin prickled moments before the pain licked like fire, pulsing under the torrent of water. Biting down on my gasp so Cas couldn’t hear, I grabbed a random bottle and lathered up. Washing my hair twice, I tried not to wince as strands came free, tangled between my fingers. Instead, I scrubbed the dirty spots on my skin harder and deeper until I realised, they were bruises. Already blooming to the surface, they were thick and black, wrapping around my arms and legs just like…
Fingers.
A sob battered the back of my teeth, but I clamped it down. I refused – refused – to let it free. So, I swallowed it, forced it back down my throat, cutting the scream until it was tiny ribbons. Then and only then, when I knew not a sound would escape, did I breathe. I was fine. I was whole. I was safe.
Reaching out a hand, I turned off the taps and reached for the fluffy towel Cas had left. Stretching further, I released a curse as I slipped, crashing against the towel rail with a cry.
“Zara?” Cas’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door. “You alright?”
“F-Fine. I-I’ll be out in a m-minute” I called, hopping out the tub, grabbing the towel. Yet, as I systematically patted myself down, I stared in horror as bloody rivulets snaked down my leg. A tiny ribbon escaped my throat, and a fleeting sob broke free.
“Zara?”
“F-F…I-I’m fine.” I gasped, wiping my leg, only to hiss in pain. Claw marks sliced through my calf, made by the dirty, jagged nails of the dead.
The tears started flowing as I wiped and wiped again. The blood wouldn’t disappear, staining the towel. Why wouldn’t it disappear? “Fuck…” I wheezed, a dozen deadly ailments flying through my head. Rabies. Could I catch rabies from zombies? Necrosis? Jocie had a neighbour once, whose kid got sick with cat-scratch fever…
I was panting then, tears blurring my fingers into bloody pink blobs, and, through a distant echo, I could hear Cas banging on the door. “Zara… Zara? I can hear you panicking. I’m coming in.”
The door swung inwards, making the tiny room even smaller. Glancing up through dripping hair, I sucked in a hollowing breath as tears fell down my cheeks. “I-I’m okay…”
Cas frown, his eyes threatening thunder, but instead he gently manoeuvred me until I sat on the edge of the tub. “I know.” He agreed, “I know, just sit and let me look.”
Clutching the towel's edge, I nodded, trembling from head to foot as Cas kneeled. “I… really, I’m okay.” I forced out through chattering teeth, as he washed the blood from my hands with a damp cloth, “I-I don’t know what’s wr-wrong with me. I can’t s-s-stop sh-sh-shaking.”
“It’s shock, Zara, and it's allowed.” Cas smiled up at me before his face soured. Shaking his head, light fingers skimmed over my calf, turning it gently so he could the wound. “What they did… They have no idea what damage they caused.”
“You… you mean my leg?” I squeaked, flesh-eating bacteria popping to the forefront of my mind. Amputation. Gangrene.
“What – no! No. your leg will be fine. I promise. Sorry, what I mean is…” he paused, lips pressing together. “It doesn’t matter right now. The wounds are shallow and clotted. The water opened them again, but I’ll clean them if you’re worried.”
Reaching under the sink, he pulled out a little wooden box engraved with a leaf symbol. Opening it, he revealed hinged shelves with rows of glass bottles, clean linen, twist-top tubs, and dry herbs. It was a medieval first aid box, and the thought brought a hysterical snort out of my nose.
“Cute.”
Flashing me a grin, Cas dabbed different ointments on different clothes, working slowly up and down my leg, his touch gentle. As the seconds slipped to minutes, I felt my shoulders relax as the rhythmic sound of him working lulled me.
My breaths eased and my pulse slowed, and I closed my eyes, leaning back against the wall. I felt the weight of the past hour - no, the past week like a heavy blanket on my chest. I didn't know if I had the strength to survive whatever was coming next.
When Cas got to the gash on my upper thigh, he was especially careful, and the warmth of his breath brushed across my skin. I opened one eye, peering down at him. He was concentrating hard, and his face was flushed, eyes narrowed in concentration. He was almost done when a shift in my leg made the towel part further. White edges slipping, Cas’s eyes snapped straight to the top of my thighs. A hunger burned within, tracing the exposed skin. I hadn’t dressed. There was nothing underneath, and as if realising what lay in the shadow, Cas darted his gaze up to mine.
“Sorry.” He whispered, moving to pull the towel closed. Yet as he let go, I shifted, allowing it to part again.
“I’m not.” It was a whisper across a line drawn, tempting him over. Because I needed him – needed it. A distraction – yes, but a feeling to hold on to other than fear and lust was as good as any.
“Zara…?” He breathed back, fingers clasped around the back of my calf. “You’re wounded. You were just attacked…”
“And you agreed, I’m fine.” I counted, sliding my leg forward. On his hunches, knees wide, it slid dangerously close to his crotch, and his hunger burned again, darker this time and desperate.
Biting his bottom lip, eyes falling closed, Cas seemed to hesitate, pulling back with a deep breath. But on his exhale, he rocked forward, his entire body swaying with the choice he had to make. “Zara…” He spoke with warning, “This is not a good idea.”
My eyes met his, and for a heartbeat, nothing happened. We sat there, staring at each other. Then, like the tide, something rose inside me, and I couldn't help but move. Slowly, I allowed myself to reach out, gracing light fingers across his jaw, guiding him to kneel upright, his eyes level with mine.
“All my ideas are good ideas,” I teased, my thumb brushing against his lips, pulling free a groan. “Until there not. But that’s what hindsight’s for.”
Tipping that inch further, I drew my lips to his, savouring the scent of him. Leather and wood hid under a tart layer of sweat, and I devoured it all. Rising further, Cas’s arms swung around my back, crushing our bodies together.
There was no invitation needed as his tongue clashed with mine, dancing like they’d just met in a dark alley; quick and desperate. I groaned as he nipped my lower lip. Lifting both my hands to knot through his hair, he explored the planes of my bare back.
“Inks alive,” Cas pulled back to breathe, “Zara, you… your towel.” It had dropped and the cold air prickled my skin in contrast to his heated touch.
Gaze trailing down my front, his thumb followed, rising over the swell of my breast before over my peeked nipple. Gasping, I felt warmth spread between my thighs. “I don’t mind.” I pushed my hands under his t-shirt. “You feel like joining me…?”
A low, heavy groan slipped past his lips, his fingers kneading at my hips. “Oh, I want to…”
“Good…”
“But we can’t.” Cas stood out of my embrace, shoving his hands through his hair. Blowing out a heavy breath, he averted his eyes, dipping to pick up my towel, and passing it over for me to use. His hands lingered, but all the heat had fled the room.
A hollow hole opened in my chest, burning at its edges. “Why?” I snapped, funnelling my embarrassment into anger. I wouldn’t let the rejection touch me: couldn’t, because one more blow and I might sink to my knees.
Cas must have been able to tell because he swept me up, lips collided with mine. Arms encompassing, he pressed so close, I could feel every hardened ridge of his body, including his stiff hot cock pressed against the seme of my thigh.
“I would take you right here, darling?” he breathed against my lips as I panted. “Take you, devour you, slam my aching cock into you until you screamed my name.” His fingers trailed up my thigh, under the towel and between my folds. Brushing over the peak of my clit, my head fell forward onto his shoulder.
“And If you still want me to later, I will,” He whispered the promise against my temple, “But I think what I have to do next will be a mood-killer…”
His fingers curled inside me, and my breath caught in my throat, only to suddenly squeak in pain. Snapping my head up, Cas was already brushing a soothing hand down my arm, the light burn of his thumbprint barely a pink spot.
“Wha- mood killer is putting it lightly.” frowned, but his hands were still on me, one cupping my cheek and the other moving apologetic circles over my clit.
“I know,” He grinned cheekily, his brown locks falling in his face as I panted, “But I couldn’t allow you to be late for class. That would be very irresponsible of me.”
“Yes, very irresponsible.” I narrowed my gaze, yet his tempo increased. My head fell back onto his shoulder and I moaned, long and low, my hips grinding down against his palm.
“But I’d be willing to redeem myself, of course.”
“Oh, I’d think you’d better,” My voice tightened, my eyes snapping wide as something tantalisingly cold circled my folds. “Oh, my god!”
I felt the pressure suddenly shudder through my whole body, and the familiar wave of an orgasm crashed over me. I cried out; the sound echoing in the tiny bathroom, my knees clamping together to hold his hand in place.
“Not my name,” Cas chuckled as his lips fell onto mine, “But we’ll get there.”
◆◆◆
Thumping down on the rickety herbology stool, I hadn’t quite wiped the satisfied smile from my lips as the entire class watched me inquisitively, Professor Essence among them with a tight lip. But Cas’s little burn on my arm had done the trick, despite only being a post-graduate.
Running her own thumb over it, Essence had stiffly nodded, stating I should not make a habit out of being late, or my arm would look like a Begonia Maculata, whatever that was.
As the class chatter rose again, two very different sets of eyes greeted me across the dirt-stained table.
“Zara, w-what happened to you?” Bee gasped from my side, her tiny fingers reaching to flutter over the visible bruises on my arms.
This was the reaction anyone would want, and I smiled reassuringly. Jade, in contrast… “You look like shit.” She snorted across the table, “Who did you piss off this time?”
Smile tightening, I drew the spare potted plant towards me, trying not to flinch as real, squishy eyeballs blinked at me from the centre of blue petals. and cringed. I had never been good at botany, I'd killed a cactus once, and for a plant to see its own demise seemed harsh.
I could still feel Jade watching me, so I looked her in the eye before pointedly looking away to Bee. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got… caught up, but Cas helped me out.”
“Why were you with the stable boy?”
But again, I ignored the fairy, copying what Bee had already done to her plant.
“Zara,” Bee’s eyes darted between Jade and me, “When you missed your first class, and Jade couldn’t find you in your room, I thought…” She sucked in her bottom lip, tears welling in her eyes. “With what you were asking me…”
The realisation struck, causing guilt to well. “Oh, Bee, I’m sorry. I didn’t think. Really, I’m fine. I found a witch, and they didn’t hurt me.”
“Witch?” Jade perked, her annoyance strengthening. “Why were you with a witch?”
“Why are you talking to me?” I snapped, rage boiling. I hadn’t forgotten who her boyfriend was, nor what his pack had done on his bequest. There was no way she hadn’t known. “I don’t believe you’re part of this conversation.”
Jade bristled, but her lips remained closed, her gaze seething across the desk. Suddenly Essence passed, and we fiddled with our plants; the silence palpable.
Pressing down the soil, Bee swallowed, her potted plant purring in front of her, its eyes lulled half closed. “So… you met with a witch?”
Turning in my seat to exclude Jade, I read Bee’s notes, washing the plant with a tiny toothbrush. “I found two, in fact, and they’ll help me for a price, one I’ve agreed to pay.”
I could feel Jade’s questions burning a line across the desk, but I refused to meet her gaze.
“Two?” Bee seemed to ponder, before moving to spill fresh soil into her plant’s pot. “You don’t mean the Amate twins, do you?”
I paused in my cleaning. “They weren’t identical twins, one boy, one girl, but yer, they said something about an Amate Coven.”
“You are going to get yourself killed!” A snarl cracked across the table, and I saw Bee flinch. Jade’s pot was fast asleep, its petals drooped over its eyes and the leaves were a mellow burgundy. “The Amate Coven are thee Coven. Their ancestry goes back centuries. All witches of their blood are featured in the Great Stories. They are villains with hearts of black.”
Tickling the underside of a leaf, a picture of calm, my nose wrinkled. “Do you hear a chattering, Bee? I hear this incessant, annoying chattering that just won’t go away.”
Bee hid her smile, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Jade was already off her feet, her wings a red blur as she grabbed her bag. “Fine. Go. Offer yourself as chopped liver. All the better for me. You get yourself killed, or cursed, I can get my life back.”
Zooming off, Essence gave her a warm smile, muttering about what an amazing job she’d done, before her disappointed eyes fell on Bee and me. My plant’s eyes were weeping green goop, while Bee’s had done a one-eighty, thorns erupting like deadly eyelashes.
“I know you do it to wind her up,” Bee spoke, pushing her pot away, “But you are being careful, aren’t you? Witches… they’re not nicest people.”
“I’ll be careful. I promise.” And I would, as long as I got what I needed.
“Okay,” Bee sighed, “Because maybe we can meet up on Saturday? I was hoping… you know, because now we’re friends…”
“If we can hang?” I beamed. “Absolutely! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Yet even as Bee beamed back, throwing out activities we could do, my heart sank an inch, wondering if I should even be excited about the future.
The walls of reality were falling around me. The desire to question my sanity cropped up time and time again. Caution was beginning to feel like a kite in a hurricane. One sharp, final snap and I would be tossed into the wind.
◆◆◆
I skipped out on lunch early.
I felt bad because Bee’s face fell a little crestfallen, but she also admitted it would be a good time for her to concentrate on a paper due for history. Her admittance had made me question if I had the same assignment, but she’d quickly assured me it was a personal project. Wrapping her in an almighty hug, squeezing until she giggled, I promised to see her later before running for the grounds.
Over the bridge and around the village, I changed into my kit in the training ground locker room, before taking a moment to not seem so eager.
Cas had said to come early, and we’d plan a little payback on some stray mutts. Yet as I rounded the stables, I slowed as a voice shouted.
“… called me out for an emergency, Professor. This is highly inappropriate.” I knew that voice. The same tone of scorn had burnt me.
Sure enough, peeking around a corner, Headmistress Lopez had her back to me, her black wings keeping her gaze level with Professor Acrisius, who pawed the ground while poor Cas stood stoically at his side. Arms folded over his chest, a heavy snort echoed from the centaur’s chest.
“All those damn stairs are inappropriate.” He bellowed, tail flicking. “I am unwilling to climb so many just to have a meeting with you. You should therefore come to me.”
A shimmer of black glitter fell beneath Lopez as she trembled with anger. “I am the Headmistress of this prestigious school. I do not have time to be at your beck and call. Now, if you wish to discuss this matter further, you can make an appointment to see me-”
“There is no time for an appointment!” He cut her off, almost prancing into a rear. “There is a scourge among us. We must act.”
My heart sped up as a dash of hope bloomed in my chest. Professor Acrisius had been the only one to care after Nic had attacked me. Or maybe, like myself, he knew the truth about Cleo and…
Cas’s attention snapped to me as I moved around the corner. Eyes going wide, he shook his head, looking back to Lopez before I could read more, as Acrisius went on.
“The vampires need to be eradicated. One leech attacked a student! Admittedly, not an important student, but the fact remains, we are under siege from those monsters.” Acrisius thumped a fist over his chest. “My herd and I would once hunt these beasts to the Ends of The World, and I think it’s high time we-”
“The hunting, pursuing, capturing or poaching of any night child has been a punishable offence for over a century and continues to be so.” Lopez barked, her wings lifting her two inches higher. “They needed these laws because of herds like your own, who tipped the balance of the Inks, damaging the flow of Great Stories. I will hear no more of this.”
