Scent of Salvation

Chapter Forty-Four

The storm had passed during the time Susan slept. She lay across Sorin’s massive, feral chest, listening to his gentle snores. The soft fur comforted her in this rough environment—a living coat keeping her warm.

Her joints no longer burned, only a distant ache existed. The fever had faded. Vague memories of Sorin plagued her—him forcing a foul drink in her mouth, the crash of thunder mixed in with his roar, whispered prayers of him pleading for her to live.

Sun warmed her back and Sorin’s flesh her front. She didn’t want to move but thirst drove her to stir. She ran her hands over his shoulders. Her big, strong shifter who—had saved her? The memory of a few nights before flashed in her mind of Lailanie tending the pup who hadn’t been able to breathe easy. Sorin had taken care of her like pack. No one but her mother had ever tended to her when she’d been ill.

She stroked Sorin’s silky fur. She’d found her place on Eorthe. But why had she been so sick?

Her head seemed full of wool. She recalled being at the Temple then… Benic’s lab. The wine. Oh shit, the virus.

She jerked from Sorin’s arms. She had survived the mutating virus. Searching her teeth with the tip of her tongue, she found enlarged canines.

No.

She sat bolt up right and tumbled from Sorin’s chest. The thirst, the teeth—”No, no, no.” How else could she check her mutation? She touched her face.

“Susan?” Bleary eyed, Sorin reached for her.

She grabbed his hand. “What am I?”

His eyes sprang open. “You’re my female.”

“No! Am I a vampire?” A strong scent hit her senses, scattering her thoughts. Coarse and raw, it turned her stomach. “What is that stench?” She covered her nose. The closer she drew to Sorin the stronger it became. “It’s you.”

He opened his mouth then snapped it shut. Shaking his mane, he glared at her. “I’ve swam in mud, been sprayed by a skunk, and been out in the rain most of the night. What do you expect?” His scent altered a little into something sharper and prickly.

“Your smell changed. How did you do that?” Why hadn’t his stink bothered her when she lay across his chest?

Sorin’s ears perked forward. “You noticed the shift of my emotions through scent?”

“I guess I did.” She uncovered her nose and buried it in his fur. Past the exterior odor she found something musky, spicy like cinnamon and earth mixed together. Very sexy. Very male. This smell transformed from prickly to smooth and heavy. It soothed her nose. “You’re pleased.” Her senses were already mutating in less than twenty-four hours. She’d know what she was turning into within days at this rate.

“Yes.” His voice deepened as he traced her face with a claw. He shifted to civil form. The soft fur disappeared into his sun-kissed skin and his scarred muzzle reshaped to his scarred, serious face. His amber eyes remained the same though. No matter which form he wore, he was hers.

He swept her into his arms, crushing her to his chest, and his lips found her mouth. He kissed her as if drowning and she was his only air. Pinned in his embrace, all her worries vanished.

Somebody cleared their throat. “Can I eat Benic now?”

She twisted in Sorin’s arms.

Ahote lay on his side by the burnt-out fire. “I don’t mind watching if you’d rather I wait.”

“What are you doing here?” Last she remembered he had attacked Sorin.

He shrugged. “I had nothing else to do yesterday so I volunteered to help your mate.”

“Never mind him.” Sorin turned her face back toward him, his gaze drinking her in. “The fever’s gone. How do you feel?”

“Tired, achy, thirsty.” She’d never had someone so focused on her.

“Ahote, hand me the water skin.” Sorin ran his fingertips over her cheeks, her arms, then her thighs. “I knew you were a fighter. Knew you’d win against the illness.”

The Payami shifter brought the skin. “I’m going hunting. I could eat a whole stag—antlers and all.”

Meat. It made her mouth water. “I’m hungry too.” She drank the water in great gulps, trying to quench her thirst and fill her stomach at the same time.

Sorin pried the skin from her hands. “Not so much at once. You’ll make yourself vomit.” He set it behind him, out of sight. “Besides your sense of smell, is anything else different?”

“I don’t know.” Disoriented and exhausted from being sick, it was difficult to tell.

“Try to shift.” The eagerness in his voice was clear.

Her pulse fluttered in her chest. “How?” He may as well have requested her to see with her knees.

“You need to find an emotional trigger that will set off the shift. My trigger is when I recall the sound of my mother singing.”

“Uh—okay.” She massaged her temples, trying to relieve her growing headache.

“Try random memories.”

She wandered down memory lane—her childhood home, her family, going to college, developing DOUG, her co-workers. Nothing happened. If she couldn’t shift, did that mean she was a vampire?

Sorin hated them. He’d leave her and she would be lost on this monster-infested world, left to the mercy of Benic. Tears ran along her cheeks. She wiped them away, hoping no one saw.

“Don’t try so hard.” Sorin pet her hair. “You’re exhausted. I shouldn’t have asked you to try.” He kissed her cheeks.

“It’s too soon.” Someone spoke from outside their shelter—a male voice, weak and empty.

“Who’s that?” She started to move from Sorin’s arms but he pulled her back.

“It’s Benic. Stay here while I take care of him.”

Her heart flatlined. What was the vampire doing here? “Wait…”

Sorin didn’t listen. He crammed his large body into a pair of too-short pants and left her.

She crawled out after him and gasped.

Benic lay supine on the stone Temple floor, arms and legs splayed out. His pasty, pale skin contrasted against the dark stain of blood under his body. She couldn’t believe he lived since a huge sword protruded from his abdomen.

The chances that Benic had tripped and impaled himself on the huge weapon were pretty slim. She pinned Sorin with a glare. “You did this?”

He raised an eyebrow at her and crossed his arms. “Yes.”

Benic rolled his head to face her. “I’m glad to see you survived.” He stared at Sorin. “Now, set me free, you over-paranoid, crazed alpha!” His shout echoed in the forest, sending a flock of birds flying in the trees above.

Sorin crouched next to the vampire. “What do you mean it’s too soon?”

“She survived the initial virus infection, and now she’s a carrier like the rest of us. I assume the changes don’t happen overnight. She probably needs more time—”

“To incubate.” She should be jumping for joy at being alive, not desiring to creep in a hole and cry.

She wasn’t human anymore.

She stared at her hands. They appeared the same but for how long? Her sense of smell had already changed. What would it be like to have super strength, to drink blood or shift?

If she knew which virus had won the battle, she’d be coping better. “How long do you think I have to wait?”

“How am I supposed to know? This was all theory until this morning. Now, get this forsaken sword out of my gut, Sorin. We had a deal.”

Sorin fingered the sword hilt. They had made a deal. Susan lived; so should Benic. He’d given his word. Then again…

Why should he let the vampire go? They’d broken agreements with shifters throughout history. He would be doing his people a service by destroying a vampire lord.

He glanced over his shoulder at Susan. “He infected you on purpose. He wanted to steal you away from me.” He couldn’t restrain the growl that followed his words.

Dark circles hollowed her eyes, and her long hair fell limp over her shoulders. The sickness had drained her but left her alive. She’d heal. Into what, though?

She watched his hand on the sword. “You infected me when you bit me as well.”

“Making you sick wasn’t my intention. I barely understand this virus even with both of you explaining it to me.” He twisted the sword a little.

Benic’s scream pierced his sharp hearing.

“I should kill you for putting her through this.” He yanked the sword from the vampire body and pressed the blade at his throat. “I’ll keep my promise for today, because you saved her. Next time we meet I won’t be so generous.” The sword felt awkward in his grasp. How did vampires fight with such bulky things?

Benic rolled onto his knees and rose on shaky legs. He clutched the wound. In a few days, the bloodsucker would be fine. “If she turns vampire, I want your word you won’t harm her.”

“I’d never hurt Susan. This wasn’t her choice.”

The vampire nodded, then shuffled to the Temple’s exit. “You might want to tell her that when you find her.”

“What?” Sorin spun around. The shelter was empty and Susan gone.