My Super Depressing Story About How I Became The First One

Chapter Sixteen

Frost stayed in the bed with me until his guard shift started. Cain sat on the couch for most of the day and night, watching me, checking my temperature. Occasionally, he would hop into bed with me, when there was a slight drop in my temperature.

I didn't dream of Madeline or of the bloodcurdling screams. My sleep was peaceful and dreamless. I woke to find both Christian and Frost patiently waiting for me to come round.

Cain suddenly appeared at my side. He crouched down to my level. "Hey Savannah, how you feeling," he looked at me with his serious blues.

"Ok, I think." I grimaced as I tried sitting up. My body ached, from my toes to the tips of my fingers. It felt like I had been hit by a big truck. Emphasis on the big.

Cain held out his hand to stop me. "Careful, you were out for a long time and most of it you were shaking, you will be weak."

"How long was I out for?" I asked.

Frost sat up. "Thirty two hours," he said.

"Is that normal?"

"Yes, you should only be a little shaky for a bit. You should be fine once you get some food into you."

"Thank-you," I said sincerely.

"Its fine, could have been worse. We are just lucky that you didn't need any medical help like most cases like this," he said smiling.

My attention turned back to Cain as he shifted on his feet. He was still crouching beside me, staring at me intently. The normal cheeky spark in his eyes was gone, replaced by nothing. "Did Madeline visit you again?" he asked, his voice flat. Whatever emotion he had, he was hiding it from me.

I frowned at him. "No visits this time." I pulled at the heavy covers as I tried to sit up. Naked twice in the past two days was enough for me. I was determined, this time, to avoid any slippage. It was harder than it looked, and not as easy as they make it out to be in the movies. Typical. I finally sat up straight, against the pillows, but I was not as graceful as I had hoped.

I returned back to looking at Cain, expecting him to be amused over my struggled with the bed covers. But he was still serious and blank, showing no emotion. What the hell was his problem?

"Ok so we still need to find out what she wants, but I will leave that to you," he said, standing gracefully, extending his powerful body to full height.

I craned my neck to look at him. He wore a tight baby blue tee and a pair of acid washed jeans that sported a rip at the left knee. His blonde curls were tired back loosely in the usual ponytail. His face serious but blank, unreadable and painfully beautiful. "I will keep looking into other things," he said, his voice still flat. He turned and left without another word.

His behavior confused me. I didn't like seeing him like this. He was usually a total smartass. I wonder what the fuck crawled up his ass. Had I done something wrong? And if so, what the hell was it?

Frost sat down on the edge on the bed at my feet, facing me, with one leg pulled up and the other left dangling down the side. The position made him look casual and comfortable. It was something I rarely saw from Frost. He was always so serious and on guard. A true professional.

He was now off duty, wearing a dark green fleece singlet with grey sweat pants. His short hair messy and un-styled. I liked the look on him. It made him look young, fun and carefree.

His eyes were still on duty though, serious and on the ball. "What's up with that face?" he asked.

"What face?" I asked, putting on my best customer mask I learnt from retail. Apparently I was really good at it. But fooling a werewolf may be a different story.