Fang Junkie

8. A different kind of mission

8                    A different kind of mission

When I opened my eyes, I had a view of my open bathroom and a naked man in it. A naked man so physically perfect he could've descended from the gods, except nothing that looked so perfect could possibly be truly good. I rolled onto my back and stared at my ceiling with my good eye. Sun was coming through the closed, white curtains and gently lit my bedroom. The day felt surreal. The world felt as if a storm had terrorized the night and we were left to peacefully deal with the damage. But the tranquillity was an illusion, and we were in the middle of the calm before an even bigger storm.

I pushed myself up on my elbows and could feel the remnants of last night's fight in the strain of my muscles. Also, my body needed to load up on painkillers to ease the throbbing of my ribs and nose. I probably shouldn't have indulged in a make-out session with a supernatural creature who was strong enough to walk through a wall. Previous painkillers had made it seem effortless a couple of hours ago, but I suspected that even sitting up straight with my legs not wrapped around someone was going to hurt today.

"Good morning." Abel sauntered out of the bathroom and swaggered my way, jogging pants hung low on his hips. He went around the bed and picked up his watch of the night stand. He slipped it on and casually slipped his phone in his pocket. There was something seriously wrong when his easy presence didn't freak me out.

"Breakfast?" I asked, attempting to get up and out of bed. I hissed. Yes, sitting definitely hurt. I did believe in the short pain, so I forced my legs underneath me and hobbled over to my closet. The other side of the wardrobe door was a full length mirror.

"It's after noon." Abel commented. He had frozen in his movements to keep a close eye on me. I'd like to say I'd experienced worse, but not even a human beating me up with my hands and feet out of commission could get this much damage in, so this was probably the worst.

"Then we'll have brunch." I twisted and turned in front of the mirror, inspecting all my injuries. I pulled down my jogging pants to inspect the bruise on my thigh which sent a sharp ache vibrating through my leg with every step. My ribs were okay, only not when I bended or twisted my upper body too enthusiastically. The swelling in my face had lessened, but looking at my mirage, I couldn't quite understand Abel had wanted to put his lips on me yesterday. My hand wrapped around my sprained wrist and my fingers pushed and prodded at the bone. A couple of pain flashes flared up, but if I was careful for a couple of days, I'd be able to punch someone with that hand without too much inconvenience.

"Maybe I should shower first." I said, turning around to see a quiet Abel. His gaze was burning with anger.

"Need help?" He was actually serious.

"I think I'll manage." At least I could manage to get to the bathroom without a limp. Inside, I closed the door, but my panicked voice telling me to lock it was nowhere to be heard. Apparently, Marie's kidnapping had put a lid on her constant fear of ending up in a scenario where I'd be enslaved by an eternal high by a vampire again. Every fiber of my body burned with a hunger for revenge, something that had rarely bothered me before. I was fine with what Jaydon had done to me, but I'd be damned if I let him do it to anyone else.

I slowly but purposely undressed and stepped in the shower. I turned the tab on and stared in fascination as dirt and blood ran off me like I had been soaked in it. With a washcloth I scrubbed the spots off my skin that refused to go without a fight, as if they wanted to constantly remind me of what had happened. I was almost angry when I washed it off, scrubbing furiously at my skin and pulling at my hair until the water hitting the bathtub could only be described as clean.