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Consequences	By : Sabriel0405 Category: Anita Blake > Het Views: 4737 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
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The sound of whimpering woke me. It took me a while to realize that I was making those hurting noises. Cold had seeped through my body. A biting wind cut at my skin. Bright light pierced the car, blinding me, forcing me to close my eyes. Since I had been seeing in at least triplicate, that wasn’t a bad thing. My head throbbed which meant I was still alive. It also meant that there was blood rushing to my head. I was hanging against the seatbelt, awkwardly upside down. My arm was trapped against the dashboard. But it was too much effort to move it anyway.

I drifted, semi-conscious, as the puzzle began falling into place. I had been in an accident. As the wind died down, a dripping noise, slow but steady, penetrated the snow-blanketed silence. At first, I thought it was oil from the car or some other auto fluid. Then I connected the smell. Blood. My blood. I was slowly dripping away my life. I blinked my eyes open, hoping to see something helpful but the windshield was a spider web of cracked and iced-over glass. The passenger side window was missing some of its glass but red tinged everything. My vision hadn’t improved since the last time I tried this, which indicated a more serious concussion. But why was everything crimson? A hand came up and rubbed at my eyes. It came away wet. Blood. I wasn’t merely dripping my life away; I had splattered it everywhere.

I wasn’t getting enough oxygen but when I tried to take a deeper breath, pain spiked through my chest. I must have broken something in crascrash. I blinked my eyes open yet again but the world was not only fuzzy, it was darker around the edges. I realized then that I was going to die. I had no idea where I was. No one knew I was missing so there weren’t any search efforts underway. I didn’t think I had crashed through the guardrail which meant that no one would see me if they weren’t looking for me. It was daylight so Jean-Claude was still asleep. I had to hang on a while longer yet or the marks would drag him and Richard into the grave with me. Richard! My pulse quickened at the thought. I opened the marks but his were battened down and I didn’t have the mental focus to push at them. I didn’t have the energy to get angry with him either. If I didn’t kill him when I died, he’d wallow in guilt when he learned why I had the accident.

Every time I shifted my body, the dripping increased in speed. I stopped moving. Too much effort, too much pain, too little reward. My new goal was to stay alive long enough for Jean-Claude to wake. I needed to warn him. I could shut down my end of the marks but if he didn’t do the same, I might drag him down whether I wanted to or not. Richard would have to fend for himself. I said a brief prayer of thanks that I hadn’t taken the fourth mark. I thought there was a good chance that Jean-Claude could protect himself from me since I was only thrarksarks deep.

I moaned, unconsciously, and tried to stay awake but I was so tired and the darkness so peaceful. I didn’t know how long I had been out but knew enough to be grateful to have woken. My eyelids were sticky and hurt when I forced them open. It was still bright but I thought it might be late enough for Jean-Claude to have risen. I opened the marks again and got a faint flicker of response. Too faint to matter. I still didn’t have the strength to push against them and if Jean-Claude hadn’t fed, he’d be too weak to notice.

Tears dripped from my eyes. I hurt everywhere. Pain had morphed into radiant agony. The cold was making it harder to breathe than it already had been from the crash damage. The seatbelt alone probably cracked a few ribs. The tears flowed into my hair. Keeping my eyes open was a mixed blessing. I knew that staying awake was good but my vision had degenerated into kaleidoscopic images worse than the windshield. It also made me nauseated. I fought it back. I didn’t want to throw up in this position. The likelihood that I would choke to death was too great. I panted as best I could, hoping it would buy me some time. I had to make it until I could warn Jean-Claude. I just needed to hold on a little longer.

I never imagined dying alone. Oh, I suspected that I wouldn’t make it to thirty, a prophecy that was apparently coming true, but I always imagined dying in the line of duty. An execution gone wrong, or a lycanthrope gone rogue or even a demon. I never imagined a car accident because I am so fanatical about seat belt use. Though it was rather genetically apropos, since a car accident took my mother’s life. Perhaps dying alone was fitting. I kept myself back from all the people in my life. I thought about Ronnie, the woman I once counted as my closet friend. She so hated what my life had become that we couldn’t talk much anymore. I missed her and I was angry that I hadn’t tried harder to show her my friends were not monsters.

I hated how judgmental people were about my life. But my own ambivalence was telling. I used to kill the monsters not sleep with them. Now I was a willing human servant. I had taken the marks to save Richard and Jean-Claude and would do it again, even knowing the consequences, even knowing about the ardeur, my nemesis. As wonderful as it felt to have Asher driving inside me, I wouldn’t be fucking him at all if the ardeur weren’t such a hard taskmaster. I was pregnant because of the ardeur. I slept with a stranger because I desperately needed to feed. If things had been different, if I hadn’t been injured, Micah would still be Nimir-Raj of our clan but I would have abdicated responsibility to him. Now we’re not merely tied, we’re irrevocably entwined. I was probably saddest about Richard. The ardeur had been the last straw between us. I was sorry I wouldn’t be there to see Richard’s recovery but my permanent absence would give him some breathing room.

It wasn’t just the ardeur. Once upon a time, the line between monsters and humans was well defined for me. It was us versus them and I never looked back. Now there was a real possibility that I would get an execution order for someone I considered a friend. This didn’t just make me unhappy, it frightened me. Because I knew I could carry out that order. Because that’s who I was. I wasn’t sure I liked that person anymore.

I must have passed out again because my own whimpering woke me. Either it was darker or I was going blind. I prayed for the former. It wasn’t as though I wasn’t expecting the latter, but I needed Jean-Claude awake first. I opened the marks between us again and forced myself to push at them. My head throbbed with the effort. I hadn’t mastered the art of speaking mind to mind but there was no sound as I whispered the words, “Jean-Claude.”

His voice in my head was the most welcome thing I had ever heard. “Ma petite?” he said in surprise.

Hearing his voice, I started to cry, hard this time. It hurt. Every shake of my shoulders sent spiky darts of pain to every limb, every muscle, every nerve that my body still possessed. “Jean-Claude,” I tried to repeat.

“Ma petite, what is wrong?” There was alarm in his voice. Good. I didn’t have the energy for lengthy explanations.

I swallowed, gathering the last of my energy. Crying had used up any reserves of lung capacity. It wouldn’t be much longer. My heartbeat began to stutter and skip. I thought I’d be scared but I had too much to do first. I was always good at compartmentalizing. “Accident.” I took a breath. “Must protect,” inhale “yourself.” Inhale. “Love you,” inhale. Cough.

“Ma petite, where are you?” I pictured Jean-Claude, resplendent in one of his Musketeer outfits and almost smiled. I’d miss his primping. I ignored his question.

“Richard.” Inhale. “Warn Richard.” Inhale. Cough. Two words were about the most I could string together at one time.

“Ma petite, you must tell me where you are!” His fear resonated through the marks. I fought to prevent mine from doing the same.

“Damian.” Inhale. “Blood oath.” Inhale. “Don’t let,” inhale “me kill him,” I rushed out in a strained whisper. “Tell Asher,” inhale, cough, “love him.” Inhale. “Yours again.” Tears coursed into my hair, drying in icy rivulets.

“Anita! Tell me where you are!” It was a command this time, master to servant.

“Too late,” I said. “Promise. Help Micah. My leopards.” I couldn’t breathe in between each phrase. Spots had begun floating over in front of my eyes. There were only a few minutes left. “Tell Jason. Sorry.” My chest had constricted as though a steel band had tightened around it.

“Anita, open your eyes. Let me see!” Another order.

It didn’t matter, I couldn’t see anymore whether they were open or closed, but the eyelids responded to my command and opened. “Love you. Sorry took so long.” I whispered, the words barely audible now. “Stay safe.”

“Take my strength, ma petite. Use the marks!” It was a demand. .

“Won’t hurt,” inhale, cough, “you.” I tried to close the marks between us but he blocked the door. We were bound together and I could feel that tie pulling like salt-water taffy. Jean-Claude’s energy reached out to me. I knew I could drain him without even trying hard. I wouldn’t live at his expense. With one last burst of energy, I slammed my shields down. My heartbeat slowed. I had done what it could. I prayed it would be enough. I no longer cared if God thought I shouldn’t be praying for a vampire. His face stayed in the back of my eyes until the darkness pulled me under.

“Miss Blake? Can you hear me, Miss Blake?” Distantly, I thought I heard voices but neither my body nor my mind could respond. I was frozen to the core. There were crunching sounds nearby. I wasn’t sure if that meant there were people outside or animals. I was surprised that all the blood hadn’t attracted predators before now.

“God, there’s a lot of blood. Can you get in there to get her vitals?”

“Be careful, she’s pregnant.” It sounded like Jason’s voice. Not possible.

“Not anymore, she isn’t.” A strained silence followed before, “I’m sorry, man.” Fingers touched like snowflakes against my skin, brief, sharp contact. “She has a pulse, barely, but she’s suffering from hypothermia. And severe blood loss. We gotta get her out of the car. Where the hell is everyone? We need the Jaws of Life!”

The sound of metal screeching hurt my ears but I didn’t have a whimper left.

“I’m a werewolf, gentleman.” Definitely Jason’s voice.

“Anita? You’re going to be okay, Anita. I promise. Just hold on a little longer.” Micah’s voice. Was I dreaming? Was this just a hallucination? Wasn’t I dead?

They tried to keep my body stationary but pain still stabbed through me as they extricated me from the car. A scream built in my chest but it had no outlet. Suddenly I was no longer in my body. I was still connected to it, but I floated above it like a helium balloon.

I was strapped to a backboard, an IV jammed into my arm. My left leg looked like it was bent at an odd angle. My left arm didn’t look much better. Micah and Jason stood back from the proceedings, both looking a little shocky themselves.

“I need to touch her,” Micah told the paramedics.

“Sir, we need to get her up and out of this ravine and into a hospital before we lose her entirely. Frankly, I can’t see how she’s still alive. She’s been here at least fifteen hours. These conditions would have killed most people hours ago.” He was fiddling with his machines.

“You don’t understand,” Micah said through clearly gritted teeth. “She needs to be treated like a lycanthrope.”

“She’s a shifter?” The younger of the two paramedics wore my blood like a winter coat and alarm rang in his question.

“No. No, she’s not. But her body behaves like one. She needs the touch of her group,” Micah rushed the words.

“What she needs is a hospital. Her BP is dropping like a stone. Let’s move!” The two emergency personal lifted the stretcher and began trudging through the snow and ice. My weightless self stared back at the accident site. I couldn’t grasp the idea that the tangle of steel and leather had once been my car. Fresh blood coated the icy ground like rows of cherry snow cones.

Micah gave a nod to Jason and both men took control of the stretcher. “We’re stronger and more agile. You said, move, let’s move.”

If I had had voice to scream, it would have been a continuous one. Though they tried, every step jarred me. My body was more broken than I realized. Sharp pain knifed me again and an alarm went off.

“We’re losing her! Put her down. Now! Get out of the way!” I couldn’t breathe, even my insubstantial self felt my heart seize and stop. I couldn’t see the scene anymore, an icy fire burned through me. I heard all the words, felt the electric shock. This wasn’t the first time my heart had stopped. In fact, I had stopped counting those little incidents. It wasn’t even the first time I had been there for the main resuscitation event, thought this time my life wasn’t being sucked away by demonic forces and there were no witches dashing into the OR to the rescue.

Suddenly a warm wind cooled the burning and I could breathe again, my heart beat against my chest. Reluctant, but it beat.

“Whatever you did, keep doing it. She’s with us again.” The paramedic sounded lderldered.

“I touched her. I told you, she needs my touch.” Micah again.

The stretcher began moving again but Micah’s fingertips against my exposed wrist kept me grounded. I was still floating but the tie to my body had been anchored. If Micah had any say in the matter, I wasn’t dying. Not today.
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Consequences