“Nothing,” she gasps.
“The fuck it is. You're clearly in pain.” I slide my hand to her cheek and force her to look at me. “Was it Brandon? Did he fucking hurt you?”
She squints, then shakes her head. My shadows lash around me, coalescing into bands that reach for her. I attempt to rein them in, but I'm too close to the edge. They wrap around her, seeking to soothe her. It won't work. Not with the scenarios rolling through my mind. Whatever that fucker did, he'll pay. I should have dealt with him before. I didn't think he'd have the balls to come back, especially after I threatened him.
I lean down and my lips brush her temple. “I'll be back.”
My nostrils flare as I straighten, not willing to admit why I did that. It wasn't a full on kiss, but it was enough. Clara's hand snaps out and her fingers grip my wrist. She's scowling at me again as if she'll be able to stop me through the power of her angst. The thought has me fighting a smirk.
“You will not go kill Brandon. It wasn't him. No one hurt me.”
“Why are you protecting him? He's just a human piece of?—”
Her face screws up and she groans, her nails digging into my skin. “Not protecting. It's that time of the month.”
“What time? It's sunset right now.”
“Fucking A,” she breathes.
“Who's A? Is that who hurt?—”
“No one's hurting me. Fuck me.”
“Doubt you'd want me to fuck you while you're writhing in pain.”
She rolls her eyes and lets go of me to flop onto her back. She grimaces and pulls her knees up. My hand twitches by my side and I resist the urge to strip her down. The sooner I find her wounds, the sooner I'll figure out what happened to her. I might not be able to heal her, but I could take out whoever hurt her. I'll make sure no one ever touches her again.
“Leave it to a demon to only have one thing on their mind.” Her lids droop over her tired eyes. “I'm on my period, Omen. No one hurt me other than my own fucking body. Now go away so I can die a slow death in peace.”
Shadowy tendrils weave through the air and settle over her hands pressed against her stomach. I hate when they take on a life of their own, but I realize they're trying to soothe her in some way I can't understand. Mostly because I have no idea what her period is. If it's killing her, though, I need to fix it. Which means taking her to Hell or bringing someone here who can deal with whatever's ravaging her body.
“You're not allowed to die, little witch.” I lean on the bed again, intent on picking her up when she bats my hands away.
“I'm not actually dying. I'm being dramatic. I'm on my period. I'll be fine by tomorrow. Maybe the next day.” She scowls at me, then rolls off the bed. She doubles over and groans. I clamber around the mattress, desperation gripping me as she straightens and presses her knuckles to her temples.
“I'm taking you to Hell,” I growl, reaching for her.
“Uh, the fuck you are,” she snaps. “Seriously, have you never seen a woman on her period?”
I drop my hands to my sides and tilt my head. “This happens to others?”
She huffs. “Yes. Anyone with a uterus. Wait, do you know what a uterus is?”
I scowl, crossing my arms over my chest. “Yes, I know female anatomy.”
“Well, then you should know…oh sweet goddess. Menses. Menstruating. The red wave. Aunt Flo. Period. They're all the same. Get it now?”
She stomps toward the bathroom and shuts the door behind her. It's not often I'm shocked. I thought I was immune to such things. At every turn, my little witch proves me wrong. It should be annoying.
If someone would have asked me weeks ago, I would have agreed how irritating it was to be summoned over and over again. Looking back, it's exhilarating in a way I haven't felt in a long time. Back when my existence was just beginning, I was enamored with finding the exciting parts—learning new things. Clara summoning me brought back that feeling I'd lost centuries ago.
I'm not ready to let the emotion go yet.
Convincing myself this is a bad idea doesn't work. I wrap my shadows around me and wink out of existence. I don't know if it's the nervous energy or the fact I just came from Hell, but the journey back is quick and painless. My head swims as the familiar obsidian walls rise around me. My feet slam into the rock, and Dimitri stumbles back.
“Tell me everything you know about mensurating. Now.”
Ihate having my period. Some of my friends have it worse and I always feel bad about complaining. It's probably why I tried to brush Omen off. Then again, he thought I was dying, so it seemed appropriate at the time. I'm regretting it now. Which is why I'm hiding in the bathroom. I don't even know why he's here. Unless I was mumbling his name in my sleep, he shouldn't be here.
