Blood: The Third Course

Chapter Nine

The slamming door reverberated through the small room, shaking the air until it vibrated against Spencer's skin. He groaned and sat down on the bed, pulling his feet up onto the mattress and not caring that he hadn't taken off his boots. He never would have done it at home, but this was another shitty motel, just like all the other shitty motels. They'd barely checked into the new room before Vince had started up again, demanding to know when Spencer would turn him, and why he hadn't done it already.

Spencer pulled at his boot laces and stared at the window. The paper-thin curtains were pulled across the window, an orange glow from the streetlamp lighting the space outside. He had little will to go outside after Vince, or to leave the small room at all. Every part of him ached, alternating between hot and sore, and cold and shaky. Perhaps the air the younger man had demanded would do him some good. Perhaps it would have done Spencer's swirling stomach some good too, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

He glanced across the room to a dark corner where Edeline sat, her knees drawn up to her chest and her head in her hands. Behind a curtain of dark hair, her lips moved constantly. Only a little more than a murmur slipped past as she shook her head and continued on. One hand flung out in exaggeration of some point or another, made to herself, before she cradled her cheeks again.

"Will you give it a rest?" Spencer snapped, slowly getting to his feet. "I've got a headache."

He went to the door and picked up the jacket he'd flung over the nearest chair. When he turned back, Edeline was staring at him, her brown eyes gleaming out from between her brown locks. Spencer pulled on the jacket and tugged it closed around his body. It didn't stop the shivers running through him.

Her eyes narrowed as her gaze ran down his body.

"What?" he asked.

She flinched, but didn't look away.

"Wouldn't have headaches if you weren't listening so much," she said. "Minds weren't made to handle more than one voice at a time."

She drummed the tips of her fingers against her temple, her head tilted at an odd angle as she rocked slowly back and forth. Returning to the bed, Spencer sneered and slumped down, wrapping his arms tight around his stomach and hunching over his legs. The sweat trickled down his neck until his collar was damp and uncomfortable.

"Yeah, well, if that were true, split-personality wouldn't be a thing, would it?"

Edeline curled her arms around her knees and hugged them a little closer to her body.

"They don't drug themselves to hear more, though, do they?"

"Whatever, just give it a rest, will you?"

Spencer sighed and lay back on the bed, the cheap mouldings in the ceiling curled with shadows and yellow glow. He was sure that, at one time or another, they'd been white, but not anymore. He groped along his side for the edge of the blankets, considering pulling them over him and simply sweating the comedown out of his system. Vince would be pissed, but Spencer didn't much care for what their little dark wolf would think.

He felt her move before he saw her, the vibrations passing through the air. Her scent rippled in his nose, soap and lemons, standard cheap motel body wash scents. He probably smelled the same, though with a sheen of sweat and alcohol on top. She sat on the edge of the other bed and peered at him. Her body blocked the light through the window, a silhouette against the window. He could barely see her dark eyes as she brushed her hair back.

"I know you're a good person, Spencer," she said quietly. "At least, you were. People adored you at your home."

Rolling onto his side away from her, Spencer buried himself in the blankets until his voice was muffled in them.