Free Web NovelChapter 145: Out With It II
"Of course not! I went with you the same reason why you chose to come to Everhaven; because it was better than doing nothing for Blaise back in Fangborne!" I retorted hotly. "All my plans to escape ended up in smoke after I got mated with Blaise anyway. When Doctor Thomas introduced me to him, I was shocked," I added.
After all, I would never leave Blaise and he would never leave Fangborne. Now that I’m also Damon’s fated mate, it was even more impossible for me to leave them, unless Damon decided to throw me out of the pack.
When he found out the whole truth, he just might.
"And does this mysterious vampire rogue have a name?" Damon asked with a snarl.
"His name is Gus," I said, and Damon waited for me to elaborate further. "He has blond hair and purple eyes."
"He has purple eyes, and you didn’t see anything strange about it?" Damon asked accusingly, running his hand through his hair, nearly tearing it off in frustration. "How were you not suspicious at all?! Purple is not a normal color for humans or werewolves to have! Next time, you’re going to tell me someone with bright red eyes is a human being!"
"Technically, it is possible for a human to have bright red eyes if their eyes got infected," I muttered, crossing my arms.
"Then explain the purple eyes," Damon said challengingly. "Come on, I’m waiting. What mysterious disease could it possibly be due to?"
"...It could be something from the Moon Goddess..." I mumbled under my breath shamefully. What else could I say? When Damon put it like that, my lack of suspicion did sound very foolish, but truth be told, how was I to know?
Not to mention back then, I had other more pressing concerns― namely trying to survive and escape. I didn’t give a single crap about Fangborne’s situation. In fact, back then I relished in their destruction.
How quickly things have changed.
Then again, I would never support a vampire, which must have been why Gus decided to lie to me to get my help.
"Never mind that," Damon closed his eyes, and I had a feeling he was praying to the Moon Goddess for some form of inner peace, "If... if you thought he was a rogue, why did you change your mind?" Damon asked icily. "Did the color of his eyes finally cause alarm bells to ring in your head? Did he flash his fangs in front of you?"
I sucked in a breath. If Damon was upset before, he’d probably be apoplectic with rage if I told him the whole truth. I wondered how much I could tell him― maybe if I made him angry enough, he would make me walk back to Fangborne on foot.
"It’s because of this," I said, reaching into my bag to pull out that delicate silver urn. Damon’s eyes narrowed to pinpricks, staring at it as though it was a bomb liable to go off at any second.
"What is it, and why do you have this?" he asked, suspicion dripping off every word.
"I found it," I said, deciding not to elaborate on the wheres and hows. "I thought it was steel, but when I came back, Elijah told me it was silver. Yet, Gus held it so easily without showing any signs of irritation or pain. That’s when I suspected he wasn’t who he claimed to be."
Damon gritted his teeth.
"And you didn’t think to tell me this when you returned? Before I brought the machine back?" fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
"That’s why I asked you who was the one fixing it!" I retorted.
I had made several mistakes, but I had taken special care to ask about this matter.
"You told me a woman fixed it up, and since you can smell the undead I’m going to assume she was a perfectly normal human being. Not to mention, you and Doctor Thomas were both there when she fixed it up. You even said that you tested it out and it worked fine!"
Damon’s nostrils flared in anger; he didn’t like being reminded of his own follies the same way I didn’t like being reminded of my own inadequacies.
"Even if I told you, what were you going to do? Drag all the parts back to Fangborne and attempt to fix it yourself?" I asked, half-curious, my tone sharper than an exposed barbed wire. "I don’t think that would turn out well."
Understatement of the year. After all, while werewolves might use technology such as phones and cars and learn how to fix them for their own convenience, they wouldn’t bother learning how to fix high-tech medical equipment.
I had a feeling that if Damon were to fix it himself, Fangborne might as well hold a funeral for Blaise right there and then. My eyes burned at the thought, and I hurriedly blinked away the tears that were threatening to form.
"I could have bought a new one from elsewhere," Damon said, but now his voice was low as if the fight had all been drained out of him. He was just arguing for the sake of arguing now since he knew all too well why we didn’t choose that course of action.
There was simply not enough time to get a new one.
"In this case, we both made mistakes that caused Blaise’s current condition," I said, clearing my throat to compose myself. "We can argue all we like among ourselves after Blaise is cured."
If Blaise wasn’t cured, I might let Damon beat me to death to deal with the guilt of indirectly hurting my fated mate.
Damon only nodded in one sharp jerky motion. "Fine. Now we’ll look around his house for clues. Then we’ll find that vampire and destroy him."
I paused.
"What is it now?" Damon asked, his shoulders tense as he glared down at me. "What more secrets are you hiding from me?"
"There’s just one more," I said quietly. "I think I know just where we can find him."
