The OtherWorlders

Chapter 8

Life went on like that; a blur of confusing emotions, suspicious glances, and falling more and more in love with a beautiful and terrifying monster no matter how hard I tried not to—although, lets be honest, I didn't try that hard. Before I could blink, the day had finally come. My 21st birthday.

I blinked my eyes open to the bright morning sun, flinching away at the feeling of nails being driven into my eyeballs, moaning and pressing my face into the soft thick pillow. My brain worked slowly as if it were pushing through sludge, I shook my head to clear it and decided instantly with a gasp of pain that I would never do that again. After a few deep breaths, I decided to try again, lifting my head slowly to allow the sunlight in by intervals, and though the pain was still ever present at least it was manageable now. The point trying to shove its way past my battered senses finally made its way into my consciousness—that light coming through the window wasn't a soft and new morning light, it was the cheerful light of afternoon. I turned slow and careful to find the electric clock, shocked when I found it read 1:00pm. My feet slid out from the covers and landed softly on the smooth wood floor, and as I stood up I was assaulted by a sudden nausea that brought me to my knees, the room tilting and spinning around me as my muscles ached and a spasm ran through them. I hadn't ever had one, but I would guess that this was what it felt like to have a raging hangover, or maybe having been hit by a bus. As I was lying on the floor and shaking amid the chills that had begun to rack, I heard the door open; heavy footsteps fell on the floor, causing it to pound beneath me in time to the pounding in my head.

His black boots fell into my line of vision and I knew it was him; I watched his legs bend as he brought himself to a crouch, his cool fingers pressed against my temple and for the first time since I woke up the pain abated far enough that I could take a breath without pain lancing through my body and I blinked up into his face, my smile playing on his lips. "Did you sneak out and go on a drinking binge last night?"

My face screwed up, and my mind worked against the fuzziness that hadn't dispersed with his touch; he was protective of me, usually even a little over protective, so why was he being so cavalier about me lying on the ground with my whole body falling apart for no reason?

He scooped me up beneath my arms, pulling me to my feet where I swayed dangerously until he banded an arm around my waist. "Steady. We have your birthday party tonight and we can't very well do that without the guest of honor, now can we?"

I moaned again, and this time it had nothing to do with with sickness or the pain. How could I have forgotten the masquerade party that Justin was throwing for my birthday tonight? A huge bash with hundreds of people; the heads of all the vampyre factions that Justin controlled around the world, heads of all other OtherWorlders, important humans that worked alongside them, political figureheads, and the most terrifying of all, Justin's family.

"No, I don't want to hear it. We're celebrating your birthday, and that's final."

I didn't bother arguing, and instead let him lead me in my pajamas to the walls of elevators, and he mercifully kept his hand on the bare skin of my shoulder to keep the pain and nausea at bay—I didn't question how exactly he managed it, only that right now I needed it to be able to function.

"Where are we going?" Ah, there, if I closed my eyes it didn't hurt quite so much. His touch kept a lot of it back, but not nearly all of it, and as we began descending my stomach flipped and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

"You need to eat, and apparently take something for this bug you've caught."

I cut my eyes to his face, again struck by the oddity of the calmness with which he was taking all of this, but working through it was beyond my current capabilities. I let him lead me off the elevator and into the kitchen, stumbling into the seat and wincing as Justin's hand left me to open the fridge. I lay my head onto my arms and rubbed at my temples, struggling to take slow and steady breaths, my stomach writhing on its self and my heart skipping beats against my chest. A sharp rap shocked me into sitting up and the room tilted around me, my center tilting backwards off the bench on which I sat. At the last moment, impossibly fast, Justin was behind me, the only thing keeping me from hitting the floor, and as his skin met mine the discomfort receded and I could take a breath free of pain.