Chapter 7 - Veronica

Once, when I was sixteen, I got high with a couple of my friends and went to an amusement park. Somehow, despite having no idea what we were doing, we hit the perfect high level that sent our giggles into the atmosphere, making everything funny but not over-emotional.

To this day, anytime someone would ask me about the best moment of my life or the happiest moment, I would tell them about the time I went on the Detonator at Worlds of Fun with five of my closest friends. It was the kind of ride that shot you straight up into the air, your shoulders straining against the restraints, everything in you feeling like it was pushing against the top of your scalp. Weightless, floating, bouncing on the edge of the sky.

And high, with a bunch of giggling girls, it was hands-down the closest thing to being truly buoyant that I've ever felt.

Now, that's changed. With my hand in Percy's, our blood mingling together in a way that I was wrinkling my nose together at just a moment ago, it feels like pure sunshine is moving through my veins. I remember that initial tug I felt all those years ago, the first time I saw him. This is that times a thousand. Like realizing I've been living in the world's lowest settings for my entire life, and I've only just now turned on high definition.

Maisie is pacing around behind us, muttering to herself, her medical kit bouncing against her knee. I realize, with a start, that I can smell her, distinctly. The sweet scent of her blood, how her pulse skips in her neck, the waves and waves of hormones rolling around in her, mixed with cortisol and adrenaline.

And I'm not even looking at her.

My brain is waging war with itself. The memory of that wolf morphing into Percy plays through my mind again, how the strong curve of his thigh appeared, stacked on his other leg, where the wolf's haunches had been just a moment before.

I think of the word vamps rolling around, falling easily from their lips. I think about how it felt when that man bit me, his teeth so sharp and needle-like that I didn't even feel them at first. They were not the flat, masticating teeth of a plant eater. They were wicked sharp. Lethal.

And finally, the feeling I'm experiencing now, the dopamine skidding through my body, rushing up and down my arms, the complete sense of euphoria my body is floating in while holding Percy's bloody hand in mine.

The fact that his breathing has slowed, calmed, that his airway sounds clear, that the color is coming back to his cheeks. There is not a single medical explanation for this happening. At worst, this little "ritual" of smashing our bloody palms together would expose us to a blood-borne pathogen, not cure one.

I think about the townies in Rosecreek, how they mention something special about this place , and their nonchalant attitude about the howls that sometimes rip through the night. I think about the large, hulking forms I've sometimes caught on the horizon late at night.

It's impossible that any of this is true.

But there is so much evidence that points to my understanding of reality not quite fitting in with what happens in Rosecreek.

Maisie drops to her knees next to me, opening her med kit. She takes his pulse, counts his respirations, and measures his temperature. Everything is coming back to normal.

"I know you don't believe in this stuff," Maisie says, under her breath, as she continues working Percy over. "But there are some things I have to tell you right now, before the others get here."

"Okay," I breathe, wincing as she peels apart our sticky hands. She curses under her breath, wrapping mine first.

"Let's hope this heals fast, before anyone notices the matching wounds," she says. Then, flicking her eyes up to mine, "A blood bond between a shifter and a human is unprecedented, to say the least. As far as I know—and I know a lot—I don't think it's ever been done."

The words float through my head. It's like she's speaking a different language to me.

"The alpha and luna will be absolutely furious with me, and maybe even Percy, if they find out this happened," Maisie continues.

"Alpha?" I ask, eyes narrowing. " Luna ?"

"Oh, sorry," Maisie says, "in case you haven't figured it out, Aris is the alpha. That means Linnea is our luna."

"But, what does that even mean?"

"Well, the alpha is, like, the leader. The luna is also the leader, but she usually focuses on nurturing the pack. Resolving conflict, ensuring families have what they need."

"Okay," I say, still trying to decide if all these people suffer from collective hysteria. "Why will they be mad?"

"Because a blood bond between you and Percy…it puts you both at risk."

"And how is that?" I ask, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Of HIV?"

"No, shifters can't get HIV," Maisie says, clearly not catching my sarcasm. "It puts you in danger because of a blood bond—it's kind of an ancient thing. There are lots of implications for feelings and…urges. And humans and shifters can't, well—they can't have sex. At least, a shifter man and human woman couldn't. It might cause damage to the woman, if the shifter lost control or didn't do a good job of controlling his force."

"Jesus," I mutter, my chin in my hand. I try not to give anything away. I assume when Maisie says sex , she means penetration , which explains a lot about why Percy would never do that with me. At the thought of it, my core tightens so hard, a sudden and unexplainable rush of lust rolling through me that I have to suck in a breath. Maisie must not notice, because she keeps talking.

"Shifters now don't really do it, because it links life forces between mates. So, if someone is mated and blood-bonded, and one of them dies, they both do."

I stare at her, mouth slightly open. My palm stings when I set my hand on the floor to steady myself, and I pull it up again, feeling the scab rip open, blood dampening the bandage again.

It's surprising that it's scabbing already—knife lacerations like that usually take at least a day to form a scab.

"I just have a soft spot for Percy," Maisie says, wrapping his palm and drawing me out of my thoughts. "I mean—I also can't believe this worked. But I've seen everything he's gone through, and I just thought that if you were open to it, we should try it. He deserves to have a good life."

I let out a snort, thinking of the ghosting and the kidnapping. The worst part is that I can't determine which made me feel worse. I'm not the kind of person who thinks about who may or may not deserve a good life, but I'm not sure which side of that Percy might fall on now, especially considering all the pain and hurt he has caused.

"I know that hasn't been your experience," Maisie says, averting her eyes as she finishes Percy's bandage. "But he told Rosa to test the antidote on him, even when he saw how much pain the incorrect versions were causing the other subjects. He insisted that nobody else suffer. He said he had a bad feeling that he had done something unforgivable while he was under the influence of the serum and that he felt he needed to be punished for it."

They keep mentioning this serum , but I can't bring myself to ask about it right now.

"But, I guess, what I'm asking you," Maisie says, looking up at me, "is to keep this a secret as much as we can? Since it's just a blood bond, and there's no chance of the two of you being mated, we don't have to worry about the implications of that. But I don't want Aris and Linnea to know. For right now. Until I can figure out the right way to tell them."

Instead, I get to my feet, taking a shaky breath. The thought of being here when Percy wakes up feels like too much. It was something intimate, what just happened between us. That floating sensation, the unadulterated euphoria, the knowledge that he was feeling it, too—a little too close to sex for my liking.

"Well," I say, running a hand over the gauze wrapped around my hand and looking down at her. "What do we do now?"

"Veronica," Maisie says, pressing her lips together briefly. "I think you should probably leave for now. I don't know what kind of state Percy is going to be in when he wakes up. There are the effects of the serum, the fact that he just blood-bonded with a human, and the vam—pathogen—to consider. He could be feeling a lot when he comes to again. I'm a shifter and not bonded to him, so I might have a better chance of fighting back and de-escalating the situation."

It's still weird to hear her say something like shifter so casually, but I can't think about that. If I keep mulling on the strange, magical realism stuff going on in this town, I'll lose my mind.

I stare down at him, how his head is lolled to the side, and I think about how he used to flop on the couch, nuzzling his head into my lap, humming happily when I played with his hair.

"Okay," I say, getting to my feet. It's probably for the best, anyway—my feelings are too mixed up being here, with him. I know, logically, that it doesn't make sense to care about a man who kidnapped you and locked you in a basement for days and days, but the memories of that trauma are slipping away from me, making it harder for me to think clearly.

Getting some space from the whole situation might be a good thing for everyone involved. Percy can deal with his feelings when he wakes up, and I can follow through on my plans to get out of Rosecreek before something drags me back again.

I only get a few steps out of the room when I hear a low whine that cuts right to my chest, a pained sound, searching and sad, and I turn on my heel, coming back to the doorway but staying out of sight.

"Get off of me," Percy breathes, pushing Maisie's arm away and trying to get to his feet. "I have to—find her."

"Percy," Maisie says, and I hear her getting to her feet, too, her pulse rising, if that's even possible at this point. "You know that's not a good idea. We've never seen something like this before. You could hurt her."

"I would never hurt her," he growls, and I hear him coming toward the door.

"Percy, you need to sit down so I can take some tests, figure out what's going on in your body."

"I need her."

"Sure, but she needs space from you."

That pained sound comes from the room again, and I have to put a hand to my mouth to keep from gasping audibly, tears coming to my eyes. The pain and sorrow rip right into my own chest.

I hear something crash to the floor and Maisie yelping, and I turn the corner, walking into the room. Percy stands in the center, looking more like he walked into the tray of tools, rather than purposefully knocking them over. When our eyes meet, we stare at each other, chests rising and falling quickly.

It feels like I can hear both of our breathing, the inhales and exhales coming and going over my skin. His heart is next to mine, nestled into my chest, altering the composition of my organs, but, ultimately, reorganizing things into the way they always should have been in the first place.

I remember seeing a diagram once that showed how humans were split in two, which is why we have soul mates. With a jolt, I remember what Maisie said— I'm a shifter— and it occurs to me that Percy isn't a human, so maybe he isn't my soul mate.

As though moving of their own volition, my feet carry me across the room, and I reach up, wrapping my arms around him. Almost immediately, I feel his body relax, his breathing slowing. His arms wrap around me slowly, pulling me flush to him, and it's so intoxicating to be near him again, touching him again, that I have to close my eyes against the feeling.