The Vampire's Deal

Chapter Seven: Nicholas

"Why do you keep putting spells on me?" Catharine asked as she sat in the chair looking up at Desmond. With one hand he pushed his cold fingertips to her forehead while he held a small book in the other. "Need to make sure this stuff isn't going to give me cancer one day," she teased.

"Magic is natural," he said seriously. "And I don't need anyone, including Daniel, manipulating you," he answered and then began to chant his spell. Her temples tingled and from the outside in it felt as if her brain was warming. 

His fingers pulled away from her and then went back to his chair. It was only the two of them since he had sent Daniel off.

Catharine twisted her lips unsure whether to say what she wanted. She then decided that since he kept telling her she was apart of his pack she might as well talk about it. "You don't trust him?"

"He can't use his powers on me nor on anyone else we bring in. It's only fair you get to be on our level," he said entwining his fingers together.

As she looked him over she could feel her chest tighten, he was so much different than when she first met him. It wasn't just being groomed now that he'd cut his hair and washed the blood from himself; it was that he held himself as he spoke. He wasn't just some monster anymore, but a leader.

At first what she wanted to say was thank you, but knowing that every appreciation she ever shown to him was unwelcomed, instead she asked, "Why me? You could have just left me there."

His head tilted to the side with one raised brow, "I thought we've already discussed this. You asked me to help you."

"So?"

Desmond blinked and instantly he began to get frustrated. "So?" he roared as he lifted himself from his seat. "Why must you question me? You're protected here, Catharine."

The sound of her name leaving his lips sent goosebumps down her arms. It was like being yelled at by a parent when they call their child by their full name. Embarrassed and feeling small in her chair she knew she'd pushed too far.

Unbreathing she watched as Desmond glided to her, moving on the darkness which he manipulated seething from the bottom of him like billowing away smoke. "I can smell your soul and blood. You're not just dead, Catharine- there's evil in you. It's that smell that tells me you belong here with me." He whipped away from her and started to the glass window doors, the curtains all still ripped and crooked. "Just go," he yelled behind him.

Up from her chair she shook where she stood. "I am not evil."

"Go," he barked again stepping onto the balcony.

Swallowing the lump in her throat she turned and walked out the office. Tears were swelling to the edges of her eyes and her nose stung.

It was when she ran up to her room that the tears began to roll from her eyes, her body hiccuping from the sobs as she threw herself on the bed. Staggering in her breaths anger began to overwhelm her taking over everything she controlled; body, mind and soul.

Lifted from the bed each thought that passed through her mind lifted things from around the room.

Why did he have to save me? She pushed off all the objects on top of the bureau.

How does he expect me to keep helping him? She tore off the covers.

He thinks I deserve to live with murders! Pull out a draw.

I'll never be saved. Kicked the draw over.

I'm a good person! I know it. She grabbed the curtains.