Enticing Blood

*chapter eight

Melanie woke up slowly, first her mind, then her body.

The aches in her muscles were hard to ignore, but so was the rumbling inside her stomach. She crawled out of bed, grabbed a cardigan to protect her from the chilly air and headed to the kitchen.

"Thought you'd be hungry." Wylde said, almost under his breath as he placed a plate of eggs and toast at an empty spot on the table. He didn't even look at her as he spoke. Melanie felt something in her chest wrench as she took a seat at the table right directly in front of Dean. Dean barely looked up at her, but she saw his eyes trail up from under his eyelashes.

Melanie looked down the blade he was sharpening, and was in awe. It was long and sleek and curved a little in the middle. At the tip, there was an engraved symbol that flashed as his fingers trailed over it.

"What kind of blade is that?" Melanie asked.

"A demon one. Took it from the ones who attacked." He said in monotone. Melanie nodded. "Don't think that since you pushed me away things need to be awkward. It was wrong of me, like I said. Let's just forget it ever happened, okay?"

She nodded as she took a nibble from her toast. "I'd like that."

Wylde walked into the kitchen after leaving for a brief moment and dropped bags at Melanie's feet. "I packed up your bags, Melanie." He said, his voice stern. Melanie looked at him with wide eyes and her jaw dropped. "A good friend of mine is coming to pick you up, my uncle, actually."

Melanie and Dean both stood, both knocking back the wooden chairs with the back of their knees. Melanie could see that Dean looked almost furious, his face was twisted and his fists were clenched at his sides, as if he were going to swing at his best friend. "You're just going to send her off?" Dean asked.

"I have no choice. Adam called me, Dean."

"She's just a girl-"

Wylde was suddenly in front of Dean with a finger jabbing into his chest. Melanie had never seen him so angry. His eyebrows were drawn in close, his teeth clenched, making his jaw bulge. Melanie backed away in fear, almost stumbling on the bag that Wylde placed at her feet, and winced. "You and I both know that is not true." He hissed under his breath, loud enough for Melanie to hear. Melanie stood awkwardly, her hands tight at her sides. She watched Wylde who turned toward her, his eyes boring a hole through her sockets.

"He'll be here soon." Was all he said as he grabbed her empty plate that was sitting on the table and took it over the sink, washed it off, then clumsily placed it inside the dishwasher.

"Wait," Melanie said, her voice frantic. "I thought you guys were the ones protecting me. So now you're sending me off with some stranger-"

"He's my uncle." Wylde said sternly with his back still facing her. He turned his head over his shoulder. "I trust him."

"But I don't. I barely warmed up to you guys, I don't want to be shipped off!"

"Oh, I'm sorry." A foreign voice said from behind Melanie. Melanie quickly turned on her heel and found herself face to face with a tall man who resembled Wylde greatly, but looked different at the same time. His hair was dark and slicked back, and his cheekbones carved down the side of his face, casting shadows. He was wearing a dark, long sleeved shirt and a pair of dark pants. His hands were gloved with leather, fingerless, gloves and his bright eyes bore into her ruthlessly.

Melanie took a wary step back, running into the kitchen chair.

"I'm Adam, Wylde's uncle." He stuck out his hand to shake, but Melanie just started at it, then looked back up to him.