Shadow Guardians: The Beast
Chapter 7

Sometime near dawn, Magnus woke. His eyes felt dry and puffy, and a thin mist of sweat coated his skin.

“Hi,”

His vision faltered, but he recognized that voice—that lovely, lilting, musical voice that caressed over him light as a feather.

He lay very still as his memory came back. He’d followed the khad through the city to the chapel. He never expected to replace a whole damn troop of them. And when he laid eyes on Katherine, anger erupted so fiercely there was not a chance in the Abyss that he could control his psycho-switch. If he hadn’t stumbled upon that lone wanderer, probably on his way to his fucking priest, she would’ve died.

He blinked a few times in an attempt to clear his vision. Then he saw her. Gods, she was so beautiful and so... sick.

He tried moving a tad, felt most of the pain was gone, and all that was left was the lingering exhaustion after the effort of healing. There were small aches and pains, but all the bones had webbed back together. His stomach was still shaky, and the thought of solid food made him nauseous. But the swelling had gone down, at least.

"Hey, are you okay?” He felt a warm, soft hand rest on his wrist.

He tried talking, but his tongue was thick and his mouth was dry. “Better. Thirsty.”

“Zachiel brought you these, he said you’re supposed to drink them when you wake up.”

His vision was a little funny still, but he saw shiny plastic and something deep red. He cringed. Bagged blood.

Katherine tilted her head at his reaction. She couldn’t believe she was going to feed a vampire blood from a bag, but he didn’t seem all that interested in it. “I thought you were thirsty.”

Magnus moved his tongue to try to create saliva. “It’s cold. Hate it cold. No choice.” He slowly moved his body. His muscles were tight, like he'd over exercised. He stretched out his legs.

Katherine took a deep breath. “Why am I not freaked out at the idea of you drinking blood?”

She opened the top of the bag. Hell, it was sealed like those baby food pouches, which was already bizarre. She brought the bag to his mouth. He shut his eyes for a moment and then took it.

As he drank, his face went slack, like he was falling back asleep. Katherine frowned. Trying to save him from choking, she attempted to pull the bag away, but his hand came around her wrist and held it in place.

Right. That’s the blood doing that...

She was trapped in a surreal state of mind. It was the oddest feeling. Deep down, somewhere, she knew all that she had seen was true and real. She knew she was safe here, in a house full of vampiric people. On some subconscious level, she understood all of this madness. And it had something to do with the neron thing.

She just couldn’t believe it had happened to her. She had formed some kind subconscious broad picture, but lacked the details.

She’d stayed in Magnus’ room while he slept, hadn’t ventured out into the halls, hadn’t had the energy to. She’d slept on the couch, watching the bed. When he started scissoring his legs and pushing the sheets around in his sleep, she brought a cool, wet cloth from the bathroom to ease his fever.

There was a dining table with two chairs in the room as well. She’d moved one of the chairs, which was crafted in a Victorian style with a red cushion and heavy as a boulder, to the side of the bed so she could be closer in case he needed something. There was even a fireplace in his room.

She had this deep urge to care for him.

And now those people, whoever they were, were going to come after her. What could they possibly want with a dying woman? She couldn’t go back to Kyle’s, but where else would she go? She surely couldn’t stay here forev—for however long she had left. Damn it, she was afraid of even going back to work, which was probably completely irrational.

Magnus finished drinking the bag of blood, then Katherine reached for the second one.

“No,” he said, laying his hand on hers. “No more.”

He started pulling her hand. “Come closer,”

She frowned. “Uhm...” She leaned forward slightly.

Still, he pulled. “Closer...”

He kept pulling her until she eventually had to be right next to the bed. And then he pulled her right over him, so she lay on the bed with him. “Whoop!”

She fell on her side, and he held her from behind. She froze. His warm breath tickled the back of her neck. She was nestled in strong arms, and she couldn’t move.

“Ah, I really don’t think we should... I mean...”

He let out a deep, low growl behind her, burrowing into her hair. “Keep talking...” He needed to hear more of her soothing voice.

What was she doing? She had no business getting involved with anyone, let alone a vampire. She didn’t even know how long she had left to live.

He smells so good...

She couldn’t allow herself to have this. It would hurt too much to lose it. And she didn’t even know the guy, knew it was unfair to him that he’d have her and lose her too. Yet at the same time she felt reckless, like this was the way it was supposed to be. She’d never felt that with any man ever, but then, she’d never known a vampire. Her body flushed.

She swallowed hard. “Magnus... we shouldn’t... I can’t... I’m sick.”

“I know.” God, he could smell her arousal—sweet and musky. His own body was responding to her. He wanted to throw his leg over her, but she was so thin that he was afraid he might break her. His lips brushed the nape of her neck. The warmth that spread through him was heaven—she was heaven, and he hadn’t had a slice of heaven since Ramona. Four goddamn centuries ago.

She sighed. She wanted to be angry that he was doing this to her. But couldn’t replace the strength. It was like he sucked out all the resistance, but she was left with an agitated feeling. “You don’t have to pity-fuck me, you know...”

He abruptly stilled.

“I know I’m ugly. You can’t possibly be attracted to me this way.”

There was nothing but dead air between them for a moment, and his heated breath on her.

He laughed softly, then. His hand drifted down her side, over her hip, and to her lower belly. He pressed her back, and she stopped breathing as she felt his excitement against her buttocks.

“Does this feel like a pity-fuck to you?” He whispered hoarsely. A warm, wet tongue pressed into her neck, followed by a slight sucking of two velvety, soft lips.

For once, the fever was good. She involuntarily pressed her head into the red silk pillowcase, exposing her neck. He took the invitation and ran his fangs over her skin, from the hollow of her ear to the top of her shoulder, whisper soft.

“What does it mean, Katherine?” He whispered. “Tell me...”

She swallowed a lump.

"Tell me." He rubbed against her.

“You... you want me,” she whispered. “But I don’t want you.” Liar.

He laughed again, a soft rumbling behind her. “Really? Then you’d better tell your hands that...”

Damn it. She’d reached back with her hand into his robe, and rested it on his hip—no, wait, that wasn’t the hip anymore. That was his ass.

“Are you going to,” she swallowed again, “are you going to drink my blood now?”

His tongue wetted the jugular vein in her neck. She imagined his fangs sinking into her flesh. Would it hurt? Maybe a dull ache as he suckled. He kissed her there.

Gods, she didn’t even understand what she was asking him—drinking was a deep bonding ritual. “I would love to, but I can’t.”

She pressed quivering lips together. He immediately picked up on the change of mood. Her sadness smelled like wilted roses. It eased his arousal and brought him back to his rational mind.

“Right,” she whimpered, “I’m too sick even for a vampire. Ha-ha, silly me. Leukemia isn’t contagious, you know.”

Great, now she felt dejected that he wouldn’t drink her blood? That he refused to drain her dry? She was very clearly losing her screws.

He stroked her dark locks of hair. “I can’t take something your body can’t afford to give me. And it’s not Leukemia.”

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m dying!” She nearly shouted it.

“I know...”

“Why are you doing this? Why do you want me?”

He kept his voice calm, quiet. “I just do. That’s the way we are.”

Angry now, she made to get off the bed. She didn’t want pity, for God’s sake. What was he going to do with her when she got sicker? He didn’t know anything about her. How could he just want her like that?

She couldn’t escape his grip. “Let go of me!”

“No.”

“I want to...” she struggled against him, “...go home!”

“Your home is here now.”

She thrashed and yelled only because she knew on that deep murky level that he was right.

“Stop it. You’re hurting yourself.” He ordered.

“Let me go!”

He held her tight with one arm and brought his hand to her neck. For a moment, she thought he was going to choke her. But he rubbed his thumb slowly up and down her jugular vein, with easy pressure. She stilled against the hypnotic sensation. Her body went limp, and she became sleepy.

“You don’t have Leukemia, Katherine. You’re one of us. That’s why you’re not scared of me.”

She frowned and leaned into his hand. ”Neron,”

“That’s right,” he said, bringing her closer into his arms again. “You’re trapped in a low-grade transitional phase.

All the symptoms you have are what happens to vampires when they mature and transition. The exhaustion, the soreness, the easy bruising, the upset stomach.

Your body isn’t handling being a neron too well. It wants to change, or it will die. There’s no doctor who can cure you. You have to choose to become a vampire, or nosferi," he might as well have stabbed himself in the heart when he named that option, “if you want to have a chance to get better. Staying a neron will keep you sick.”

She swallowed. She had trouble thinking now, but instinctively she knew he was telling her the truth. “A chance to get better?”

“There’s a chance you could die during the transition.”

“What’s the alternative?” She asked softly.

“Stay a neron and sick. Die within three years.”

Well, that was a punch to the gut.

“So there’s a chance I could die either way.”

He sighed, and she felt his chest expand into her back, warm and hard. “If you stay a neron, it’s a certainty.” It already burned his heart to think of it, and he barely knew her.

“I’ll... I’ll think about it.” She managed. She needed time to take all this in. “Would you have to bite me?”

“That’s not how it works. You have to drink blood from a vampire,” or nosferi...

“As a human?”

“You’re not human. Not really.”

She kept quiet then.

He could feel the waves of her exhaustion and smell her starvation. Her blood smelled thin. And that reminded him that she wasn’t accustomed to their ways, or to a male just taking her.

He couldn’t take her. Not like this. She needed rest, to absorb everything. He needed to take care of her, not mate with her. He remembered the unbridled pain of his own transition like it was yesterday. The agonizing exhaustion, the bleeding noses, the sickness. He could barely eat, and he was almost skeletal.

The body aches were torture, like his limbs just wouldn’t work. Then the transition happened. His muscles tore and bulged, and his bones thickened. He was in crippling pain for hours, and afterward he was weak as a newborn for a while.

But her instincts had responded to him, even if she didn’t know what it meant, and it messed with his rationality at first.

“You need to stop trying to understand and just go with your gut instinct.” He told her.

And Katherine’s gut instinct was telling her to trust him, among other things.

“Are you going to make love to me?”

She was suddenly afraid that she’d put him off. First, she didn’t want him touching her, now she was afraid he’d leave her.

Yeah, her instincts were totally dependable.

He kissed the back of her neck again, and gooseflesh covered her. His hands stroked slowly over her body, narrowly evading the warm place between her legs.

“Not yet. You need to rest, and frankly, I do too. Sleep with me for a while.” He sensed her unease. “I won’t leave you,” And I’ll kill anyone that comes near you.

His own thoughts startled him into stillness.

“What’s wrong?” She murmured. That rubbing-thing he did had turned her liquid. She was tired.

Was he, bonding with her? But he’d only been aware of her for a few minutes, how was it possible that...

Wait a minute...

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she said.

“You saw my beast, right?”

She frowned. “You don’t remember?”

He swallowed. “Not... clearly. I don’t remember a lot when I’m transformed. Did he hurt you?”

“No, I thought he was kind of beautiful. I thought you two were the same?”

“We live in the same body... What did he do?”

“He ah,” she laughed awkwardly. “He purred.”

Magnus shut his eyes awkwardly. Right, so that’s when it started.

“Something wrong?”

Oh, not much. My hormones are just being hijacked by the beast inside me, and I’m actually liking it for the first time in... ever. But it’s probably going to destroy anyone that comes near you...

“No. Go to sleep.”