“Let go…” Logan. He’s moving. He’s not dead. He’s warm and he’s moving and talking.
“Let go… Let me go…” He tries to turn around. I let go of him, and he crawls on his hands and knees. His palms leave bloody prints on the snow, but its old and dried blood. He’s stopped bleeding. He’s gathering the snow, rubbing his face with it, stuffing it under his clothes.
Hot. It’s so fucking hot. Have to get these clothes off. Now. I can’t make my fingers work. She seems to catch my drift and begins to peel off my jacket. I’m healing again, and it’s so hot. It’s working double-time. Shirt off. Jeans… Have to get all off, now!
“Take them off!” She’s trying to open my belt buckle, but it takes too long. I’m burning up here! Take it off already!
There must be something seriously wrong with the way I’m thinking. Seeing Logan, covered with sweat and blood, bare skin rippling and glistening, rolling around in snow makes me not worried about his health, but horny. I would like to strip off my clothes and join him, but somehow I think it’s not something he wants right now. Steam is coming off from him in thick clouds, and he’s panting, rubbing that ice-cold snow all over his skin and eating it.
Not cold enough. At this pace my brain will be soon fried. My legs are already cramping. Vic got bitten back then, and look what it did to him. He wasn’t nearly as psycho before. We didn’t have snow. We didn’t have even one lousy ice cube. I could only watch when he squirmed and keep him down when convulsions started.
He’s gathering snow, packing it everywhere. Between his legs, under his arms, to his neck.
“Help… I need more snow…” There’s a feverish gleam in his eyes. I start to pile snow on him. It’s melting as soon as it touches his skin, but it seems to be helping. He’s starting to shiver.
“This might take a while…” All wrapped up to a deliciously cold cocoon.
“What happened?” She looks worried, but there’s something else underneath. Lust. Looks like I’m not the only pervert in our little family.
“Double-heal… My own mutation and lycan infection… It fried Victor’s brain…” Now she looks really worried and places her palm to my forehead.
“You are alright?”
“I will be… I think…” I can’t be sure. Should have lied, but I can’t. I can’t lie to her.
“Baby… I’m going to be a father?” Shit. Wrong question. I love the idea, but she seems to be less thrilled. Well, she probably wasn’t planning to pop up a baby at eighteen.
“Can we not talk about it now? I need time to think… I’m not sure how I feel about it.” I nod. Suits me. Right now we have to figure out a way to contact Xavier. After twenty-four hours I’m not going to be all here. Have to get her somewhere safe before infection takes over me. I have no idea what it’ll do.
“My cell doesn’t have reception. Better get moving. I’m going to call Xavier and ask him to pick us up. With those mutts dead I don’t think rest of the pack can track us to Westchester.” Logan is collecting his clothes. He’s fully healed now, but he radiates heat like a furnace when he passes me. Melted snow slides slowly over his body, leaving wet trails on his skin. I reach my hand and follow one of those paths with my finger, from behind his knee to his Achilles tendon. He shivers and turns to look at me.
“Don’t.” And this time I really mean it. We don’t have time. Every second infection digs deeper. It’s in my blood. It’s already altering my brain patterns. I can see, hear, taste and smell even more clearly than before. Her finger on my calf? Pure sex. Could as easily be just food. And does she listen? No. She stands up wrapping her arms around me, rubbing against my body, marking me with her scent. We have no fucking time for this. Maybe just one kiss…
I’m a fucking moron. One kiss? Right. Before I noticed she was on her back on the snow, jeans gone, legs hiked up to my shoulders. I have no slightest idea how long we had been at it, but judging from her screaming, and nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach, quite some time. I stopped to check if she was okay, and she nearly ripped my head off. She had been about to come.
Turned out we lost two hours. Two fucking fantastic hours. I can still taste and feel her. I can smell my scent on her, and it does all kinds of good to my ego. She’s mine. They tried to take her away from me, but I stopped them. Nobody takes her away from me. Never. She’s practically purring as we stagger back to our camper. That mood passes quickly enough when we have to skirt past SUV and dismembered bodies. Hmm… Where the fuck is Vic? Last time I saw him, he laid face down on the road, gaping hole where his heart should have been. One of those mutts ate his heart. And now he’s missing…
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