Blue Flames

Chapter 9

I was escorted back to the cabin with thirty immortals. A small army. The picture we painted must be funny. One small boned human girl escorted by thirty muscled shapeshifters and vampires. They were doing wonders for my ego.

Some went to the backyard, guarding the backdoor, some stayed in the front door, and a few went inside the house and stayed with me. The house had an open floor plan, a kitchen on one side and a living room on the other. A hallway near the fireplace led deeper into the house.

I went straight to the kitchen. Under the watchful gaze of six immortals, I washed my cheek wound the best I could with water. I dried it with some paper towels and held them there to stem the flow of blood. It no longer hurt so bad, but it would take time to stop bleeding, and more time to close. It might scar.

The african american male from earlier walked in with a med kit. He put it on the island. I leaned on the counter.

"I can help you take care of it," he said.

"No, thank you. I got it." When the paper towels were soaked through, I replaced them, and threw the bloody ones in the fireplace. The flames licked the blood with greedy orange tongues.

The immortals watched me with new eyes as I moved back to the kitchen and leaned on the counter again, waiting for my cheek to not bleed anymore.

"Shouldn't the blood clot?" the man asked, still standing by the island.

"Takes some time," I mumbled.

"You fight well-" he closed his mouth with a snap.

"For a human?" I said the words he didn't want to say. Smiling at how genuinely embarrassed he looked. A shapeshifter. Really young, maybe twenty. With a head of corkscrew brown curls and glossy dark skin, his wide eyes shone with an eager innocence so at odds with his heavily muscled frame.

Shapeshifters are considered adults around twenty four, when their aging process starts slowing down. So this guy was probably considered a minor. When I thought about it, most of the ones I fought were in the same age group, except for the vampires.

He nodded, "I didn't know humans could move like that, you were really fast."

"Yeah, I had... special training, you could say. You weren't so bad yourselves."

A sheepish smile, "you don't have to be nice, if you were really trying to kill us, we'd be dead by now."

"I don't need to be nice. A bit more training and you'll be fine."

His back straightened, "thank you."

"You're welcome."

My cheek stopped bleeding. I moved to the fireplace again, threw my blood to the fire and went back to the kitchen to dress my wounds.

"You're not going to run away anymore?" the boy asked.

"Nope, you can rest."

"Why did you try in the first place?" one of the women standing by a window asked. A vampire. She must have been turned when she was in her late twenties. Not even a century yet, which was why she had been watching my blood with nervous, hungry eyes. Still struggling with blood lust.

I sighed, "stubbornness, I guess. I couldn't just roll over without a fight."

I checked my wound in the mirror the boy held for me. A clean line a little longer than an inch right in the middle of my cheek. No need for stitches. I slapped a bandage on it.

"Thank you..."

"Corbin, I'm Corbin," he said.

"Thank you, Corbin."