Kiss Me Deadly

Chapter Nine

The next morning, I sit in the cafeteria, staring gloomily at the bright red apple in my hands as I've been doing for the last twenty minutes. I turn the fruit over for what feels like the thousandth time, waiting for the dark, bittersweet feelings for Ryd -him to go away. I'd gone two years keeping him locked away in the deepest, darkest part of my mind and now the gates are unlocked, unleashing thoughts of my almost-friend from another life that I can't seem to cram back inside their cage.

I turn the apple around in my hands again.

He's not good, I tell myself angrily. He's a killer created by the worst of the worst. He doesn't love you. He's incapable of love. If he knew how traitorous you are, he'd kill you without a second thought. There's nothing good in him. He's not like Archer or Dax or Leilani.

And neither are you, a dark part of me whispers.

Anger ignites in my chest. My fingernails dig into the apple, causing sticky liquid to trickle onto my hands. I'm too enraged to care.

I'm not like them either, I explode back at the voice. I know I'm nowhere near being as good as Archer, Dax or Leilani. Their hands are clean whereas mine are drenched with blood. I've done many terrible things under my parents' influence but I'm not that person anymore. I'm not the mindless soldier who took lives and doled out punishments under the command of power hungry superiors. I'm not the unfeeling weapon that could massacre entire families of supernaturals without even batting an eye.

I am broken. I am haunted. I've battled my way back to consciousness and I refuse to let anyone take what's left of my tattered soul away from me again. 

The voice doesn't respond, and I come back to my senses -and realize my hands are covered in sticky apple juice.

"Ugh," I complain as I grab a handful of napkins and begin cleaning up my mess.

"Why in hell did you leave here, anyway?" a familiar voice roars from across the cafeteria.

The chatter around me dies away as heads swivel to get a look at the scene unfolding before us. Out of curiosity, I look away from my apple disaster to catch a glimpse of the commotion.

The first thing I see is Dax, like I've never seen him before. I'm used to Dax being pissed because my presence typically brings out the emotion in the shapeshifter, but I've never seen him as incredibly enraged as he is now. Even from across the cafeteria, I can see that his blue eyes have a crazed look to them, a desperation that I've only ever seen in my victim's eyes as they plead for the lives of their loved ones. His large, heavily muscled body shakes with a rage that oozes off of him as his animalistic side fights to be set free.

I frown. If there's one thing I know about shapeshifters, it's that when they're mad enough to lose control over the shift -it's bad news. 

The second thing I notice is the tall, willowy blonde that glares back at him with her arms crossed defiantly across her chest and her hip cocked. Her deep, mocking frown gives off the air of confidence, like she's unconcerned about the bear-like shapeshifter that trembles with anger a mere foot in front of her, but her eyes tell a different story.

"I went out for some fun," she spits venomously, her full mouth twisting into an ugly frown. Her voice trembles slightly, a telltale sign that she's scared shitless. I don't blame her. Dax, with those clenched fists and eyes filled with fiery fury, is scary. This is coming from a girl who was raised by a werewolf who liked to rip people's throats out with his teeth for sport. Seemingly unbeknownst of her impending ass kicking, the shewolf continues, "how was I supposed to know that she would follow me and get herself in trouble? I don't see how this is my fault."