Christian made a fist when she touched her face. Her knuckles were bloodied and bruised. She must have spent hours trying to punch a hole through the coffin.
“Get me out of here,” Raven croaked. She sat up and reached out blindly until she found Christian’s knees. “How long?”
“No more than a day.”
“A day?” she asked in disbelief.
He knew that feeling. Once the air ran out, time moved differently.
“Who did this,” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Christian helped her to stand and then encased her in his arms as if she might fly away from this world at any moment.
Claude dipped his head into the casket and then stood. “It’s been too long, Christian. I can’t pick up another scent. All that’s left is rage, fear, and sweat.”
Christian felt as if a piece of him had returned. “I found you,” he whispered, nuzzling against her hair. “I won’t let you go.”
Chapter 37
Christian stared into the fireplace. The wood was now ashen and brittle, and deep cracks exposed the intense heat within. Though it wasn’t winter anymore, the mansion held a chill at night that affected the others. He looked over his shoulder at Raven, still asleep in his bed.
More like passed out.
On the drive home, it had taken her ten or fifteen minutes before she could breathe without hyperventilating. Christian remembered the process of getting acclimated to oxygen after resurfacing from the ground the first time he was buried. The second time was in Martha Cleavy’s tomb, but thankfully that one wasn’t airtight. There hadn’t been much room in the back of the van with Christian’s bike inside, so Raven sat in his lap, her face nestled in the crook of his neck as she drank his blood. Nothing was more natural to a Vampire than drinking blood, and Raven had no need to ask. While he had warned her about the dangers of Vampire blood, Christian would always offer his own to ease her suffering.
What came as a surprise was that afterward, Raven snapped out of it and was herself again. Maybe it was Claude constantly asking if she needed anything, but Raven did everything in her power to allay everyone’s fears by cracking jokes and asking about their drinking party. Gem’s worry faded just as quickly as she told the story about the energy ball. Viktor didn’t know about her disappearance or that some of them had left, so she asked them not to mention it when they got home. She wanted to celebrate, and Viktor wouldn’t be able to enjoy his victory if he had to learn about this one minor detail of her getting buried alive.
She had no memory of who put her in the ground or what happened just prior, only that she had last spoken to the club owner. She never mentioned Houdini by name, and Christian didn’t press the subject. At first he thought she might be protecting her Vampire maker, but the more Christian thought about it, he realized that she was protectinghim—afraid of what Christian might do.
Once home, Viktor congratulated Raven on the job, invited her for a drink—which she accepted—and apprised her of everything that had transpired since her disappearance. The total number captured, how many worked for the higher authority, details about the data Wyatt confiscated, and some who’d even provided the Shifters. The fights had been going on for decades, and the higher authority even planned to bust those who no longer attended the matches but were in the records. This was officially the largest crime ring in Cognito history, one that spanned decades and international borders. The public wouldn’t be that surprised to hear about the secret death matches, but come tomorrow morning, they would be stunned to hear the names of those involved. People they looked up to and trusted, many of whom were women. Blue remarked that it would shake the foundation on which women had struggled to build. Many had fought for their independence and had tough beginnings, so it was a disappointment to see how a handful of bad apples could set them back.
Raven had said “good riddance” as those women weren’t ones they wanted in power anyhow. And she was right. Regardless of gender or Breed, there had to be a purge every so often to flush out all the shite.
After Viktor had gone to bed, Wyatt entertained the others with his account of the rescue, which changed by the fifth retelling. Christian couldn’t help but notice how Raven listened with a brave face, minimizing the experience as the others would have done. Hell, like any immortal would have done. Death and mayhem were par for the course. Raven continued drinking long after everyone had gone to bed, and Christian sat with her before inviting her upstairs.
Once alone, he had asked her about her peculiar behavior. She replied, “I didn’t want Viktor to see me shaken up like I can’t handle a bad break. It was bad enough that Wyatt, Claude, and Gem saw the whole thing, but two of them were drunk, so maybe they’ll remember it differently in the morning. Gem panics about everything, but she’s one of those people who always looks on the bright side of life.”
Madness ensued rather quickly during a burial, most of the terror occurring in the first few hours after the oxygen ran out. When he invited Raven to talk about it now that they were alone, she grabbed a bottle of tequila and said, “Don’t put me on the therapy couch. Look at Blue. She almost died and has all those scars, but she bounced back and proved how tough she was. If Viktor sees that I’m an emotional tornado, he’ll cut me from the team. Everyone’s always telling me to bury my emotions before they do me in. If this is what being an immortal is about, then let me deal with it. I don’t want to talk about it, Christian. I just want to get over it.”
He looked back at the bed again when the covers rustled, and she turned over.
Raven’s version of “getting over it” was sex, but when Christian rejected her, she turned to the bottle. He would give her the world, but sex wouldn’t make her forget; it would only associate his passion with her trauma. So instead, she drank herself to sleep, and he let her.
There was no handbook on how to get over a burial. When the air runs out, you glimpse your own mortality for all of thirty seconds before your body goes through an upheaval of change. Then you’re alone in the dark, forsaken by all. The others would never understand how just one day is like an eternity. They would never know how that experience would make it harder to handle tight spaces or even dark rooms. Raven might never suffer those same phobias that Christian once had, but one thing was certain—the person responsible would pay.
A knock sounded at the door, and he rose from his chair to answer.
“Is she all right?” Switch peered over Christian’s shoulder.
Christian swung the door open. “Well, have a gander. Do you feel like more of a man, now that you’ve seen a drunk woman in her knickers?” He stepped into the hall and shut the door behind him.
Switch folded his arms and did that hand tuck men do to make their biceps look bigger. “I made myself scarce all day, so I don’t know what’s been going on with the drinking parties. But Crush called, asking about Raven. He wanted to know if she showed up and where you were.”
“The man needs to learn how to put a cork in it.”
Switch reached in his pocket and handed Christian his phone. “You tell him. He’s been calling me for hours, and I don’t know what to say. Said he tried calling you, but your phone kept going to voice mail.”
