Fractured (Deep In Your Veins 5)

“Look at the facts,” said Butch. “Your blood tastes different. You can call blood to you. And sometimes the rim of your eyes briefly glow silver…or mercury.”

Jared stepped forward. “You said her blood tastes different.”

Butch nodded. “There’s a slight fizz to it.”

“Sam’s blood has a sherbet-quality to it,” said Jared.

Butch looked at Sam. “You call on energy, in a sense.”

She shook her head. “I feed on it.”

“Since becoming a hybrid, you haven’t had to suck in energy to use it,” Butch pointed out. “It comes to you. You call it without trying.”

Her brows lifted. “Never really thought of it like that.”

Paige sidled up to me. “But Imani isn’t calling energy.”

“Of course not,” said Butch. “She’s not a Feeder, so her ability isn’t energy-based.”

“My gift isn’t blood-based,” I said.

He arched a brow. “Isn’t it? You can sever blood-bonds.”

I sighed. “They’re psychic constructions.”

“Constructions that are born from blood. Can you sever other psychic links?”

“No, only blood-bonds.”

“So, your gift is blood-based.”

Shit, he was right.

“I agree with Butch,” Jared told me. “Sam’s blood caused the changes.”

Sam winced. “Sorry, Imani.”

I forced a smile. “At least now I have an explanation.”

“Whatever gave you the ability to call blood, it’s a fucking cool ability, Imani—I don’t care what you say.” Harvey wasn’t the only one who looked impressed.

Denny turned to Butch. “How does it feel when she calls it?”

Butch rubbed at his nape. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Come on, dude, try,” said Damien.

Sighing, Butch said, “It was almost like a heavy weight was tugging at my veins, pulling at my blood…like a magnet. I could feel my heartbeat in my head, could hear it pounding.” He curled an arm around my shoulders. “What was the trigger for the call?”

“There wasn’t one. I just concentrated on nothing but the blood.”

“I know this is gonna piss you off…but you need to do it again.”

I froze. “Butch—”

“Doing it one time isn’t enough. We keep practicing until this is under your control. It needs to be second nature for you. Okay?”

“What-motherfucking-ever.”

“So charming,” chuckled Paige.

We practiced for hours. Jared and several members from the squads took part, eager to know what it felt like. I did pretty well. I focused and persevered, pushing past my discomfort at the knife. I had to or I’d be calling people’s blood accidentally. In a battle, that would be bad. And I fully intended to be part of the upcoming battle, whether Butch liked it or not.

After lunch, we all had a regular training session with Sam and Jared in the rainforest, during which Sam and Butch practiced extending their shields. I was exhausted by the end of the session, and I tried hard to conceal that I’d tired much sooner and easier than the others. Tried and failed, because Butch and Paige saw it clearly enough. Thankfully, neither rubbed salt in the wound.

When Butch and I returned to our apartment, we showered and changed. Dinner was a pretty quiet affair, and I knew it was because he was trying to think up ways to stop me from going to visit Marco. I couldn’t really blame him for that. I didn’t want to waste minutes of my life with the dick either, particularly since he could be the person who tried to kill—

“You’re not eating.”

I blinked. “I was in deep thought.”

His perceptive eyes narrowed. “You were thinking about Marco. He’s the only person who makes you look that pissed.” Butch put down his fork. “You don’t have to see him. No one would judge you for backing out.”

“Trying to talk me out of it?”

“Hell, yes. Going to see him is pointless, baby. He won’t tell you anything.”

I reached over and threaded my fingers through his. “I understand why you don’t want me to see Marco and give him another chance to play games, but it has to be done. Like it or not, he’s our only real hope of finding the answers we’re looking for.”

“And he’s loving that,” said Butch. “He’s loving the power it gives him.”

“I know, but—”

“And he’s loving that it gains him access to you. He’s not going to give up that power easily.”

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. But I have to try.”

With a heavy exhale, Butch leaned back in his seat. He kept a firm grip on my hand. “Ryder will be scanning his mind tomorrow night. Why not wait and see what he finds in there?”

“Because the poor guy’s just woken from a coma. Take it from someone who has a psychic hand—traversing through a person’s head is not at all easy. It’s also pretty uncomfortable. While he’s tired and unbalanced, it’ll be hard enough for Ryder to scan three minds. He’ll need time to recover before he can do a thorough scan of Marco’s mind, which means there’ll be a delay in getting the information we need. We can’t afford delays.”

Butch looked away, clearly intent on brooding. It was almost cute.

I squeezed his hand. “Look, I know this is hard for you. I don’t like it either. But you’d do the same in my position.”

His jaw hardened and I thought he’d argue again. Instead, he sighed. “Fine.”

Apparently he was learning the need to respect my choices. Progress. “It’s not—” The rhythmic tapping of knuckles on the door made me smile. There was only one person I knew who knocked like that. “It’s Fletcher.”

Still sullen and broody, Butch grunted. Whatever.

Putting down my fork, I hurried to the door and opened it. Fletcher and Norm both pranced inside, beaming. They did those air-kissing things. Noticing Butch, they each waved at him. He tipped his chin at them.

Fletcher leaned close as he asked me quietly. “What’s he sulking about?”

But Butch heard him. “I do not sulk.”

“Of course not,” Fletcher assured him. “No one would ever imply otherwise.”