Fractured (Deep In Your Veins 5)

It was hard not to growl. “This is so not the definition of winding down.”

Butch kissed my temple. “You need to learn how to control this, baby. You know it’s important.”

I sighed. “Tomorrow, okay. We’ll go to the arena tomorrow and I’ll practice. Let me have the rest of tonight to relax.” That wasn’t too much to ask.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

(Imani)

I’d kind of hoped Butch would forget about my agreement to practice calling blood, since the idea of watching Chico cut himself seriously didn’t appeal to me. But when we woke at dusk, Butch was quick to remind me of our little agreement. And since Sam and Jared thought the whole thing was a good idea, I had no support from their corner.

As such, no sooner was I dressed and well fed than Butch was ushering me to the arena. I ensured he knew I was there under sufferance, but that didn’t appear to bother him. Apparently his squad hadn’t forgotten about the agreement either, because they were already waiting at the arena with Sam, Jared, and my squad.

I walked to Jude. “I’m surprised you’re okay with this.” She didn’t look at all reluctant to stand there while her mate wounded himself repeatedly. But then, Jude did have a fondness for knives.

“You won’t be training with Chico. You’ll be training with me.”

I stiffened. He did not just say that. Slowly, I turned to face Butch. “You’re not serious.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Call me weird, but I don’t want to watch you hurt yourself.”

“This is necessary. You know it.”

Paige put a supportive hand on my shoulder. “You can do this, sweetie. He’s right; it’s necessary that you get a grip on this.”

I rounded on her. “You’re siding with him? Well, thanks, Judas.”

“Stop talking to Paige so we can get started,” interjected Butch. “Now, Imani.”

Rubbed the wrong way by that order, I gritted out with a false smile, “Sense the danger of continuing with that tone.”

“You’re just trying to start an argument so you can stalk out of here in a huff. Did you think I wouldn’t see right through it? Do I look stupid to you?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

Growling low in his throat, he turned to the others. “Everyone move.”

They all backed away, giving us plenty of space as we faced each other like two cowboys having a showdown.

“Concentrate,” said Butch. “Sense what triggers the call. Then you’ll know how to block it.” In a blink, he whipped off his shirt, snatched a knife from his waistband, and then sliced his chest.

Taken off-guard by the speed in which he’d acted, I did nothing more than wince at the sight of his injury. I had a strong stomach, but one thing made me cringe—the sound of a knife cutting into flesh. It was like nails on a chalkboard for me.

“You’re not concentrating,” growled Butch.

Yeah, well, the wound had closed before I had the chance to act anyway. In any case… “I didn’t feel a pull toward the blood.”

“I’ll make the cut deeper this time.” He sliced his chest again.

Cringing, I balled my hands up into fists. “You need to use a different weapon. I hate knives.”

“Hey,” whined Jude, offended on behalf of sharp implements everywhere.

When the wound healed, Butch took a tissue from Reuben and wiped away the excess blood—the scent of it was in the air, teasing every single vampire in the arena. “Again.”

“There’s no point; nothing’s happening.”

“Because you’re not concentrating. You’re overthinking it—obsessing about the wound.”

Yes, I was. “I’m not doing this. I can’t stand here while you slice yourself over and over.”

“Then call the blood and get this over with. I’m not stopping until you do. Think about what you could do with this, Imani. It might not be an ability, but you can damn well use this in a duel. It can be a good thing. But it can be a bad thing if you’re accidentally calling the blood of people you care about. They could weaken or, worse, bleed out.”

God, he was so right. How annoying.

“Is that what you want?”

“Of course not,” I snapped.

“Then focus. Ready?” He didn’t wait for me to answer, just carved a deep line into his upper chest, a little beneath his collarbone.

My back teeth locked at the sound and sight, but I didn’t let myself think about who the chest belonged to or how fucking weird this was. I just concentrated on the blood, took the scent deep into my lungs, thought about how good it would taste, how thirsty I was starting to feel, and how—

“Well, shit.” Paige’s awed words pulled me from my thoughts. That was when I realised Butch’s blood had dripped all the way down to his waist.

“That was good,” praised Butch as he took a clean tissue from Reuben and wiped his chest clean. He looked at Sam. “Did you notice it?”

She nodded, face grim.

I frowned. “Notice what?”

“When you’re calling blood, the rim of your eyes have the slightest silver glimmer to them,” replied Butch. “It happened last night, but it disappeared so fast that I wondered if I’d imagined it.” He moved closer to me. “I think it’s because you drank Sam’s blood. I think it caused some changes.”

I shook my head, confused. “Vamps drink from each other all the time; it doesn’t change them.”

“That’s because vampires can’t change; their bodies are frozen. But during the transition, your body wasn’t. You were changing, and you had the blood of Sam, Jared, Antonio, and me running through you. That’s a powerful combination. It’s probably what kept you alive. It hadn’t occurred to me that Sam’s blood would cause any changes within you.”

“I’m different because of the serum. I’m not a hybrid.”

“No, you’re not a hybrid. Your system evolved into something that is stuck somewhere between human and vampire. But Sam’s blood triggered some changes.”

I didn’t see how calling on blood was in any way related to Sam.