His Little Mate

Chapter 68

Samuel

"What was he talking about?" I had raised an eyebrow, "what black goop did you cough up?" I put my hands on my hips.

Oh no...Winter finally spoke up after vanishing for who knew how long.

"What do you mean?" His eyes widened in shock.

"What black goop did you cough up?" I persisted. "Are you sick?" I couldn't help but jump to conclusions.

Sam...Winter called me, but I was more focused on the issue at hand.

My life in this place wasn't a picnic but I also didn't want to die or be sent back to my family in NYC just because he was sick or died. I may have missed some of them, but I certainly didn't miss all of them.

I had more freedom with Nicholas than I had ever had before...in my entire life.

"Well, it's-," he rubbed my neck, avoiding my eyes and my question.

Without wanting I felt myself shoot to my feet, seizing onto his shoulders.

"Oh my god, are you dying?!" I ignored the off feeling in my freshly sewed arm.   "Do not tell me you are dying! I cannot handle having to move back in with my bitch mother! Don't you die on me Nicholas Whatever your middle name is Whitestone!" I couldn't remember his middle name, but I wanted to make my point clear. I grabbed onto his shoulders even tighter and did my best to try and shake him, I thought it would make him talk more.

"No no!" He grabbed my wrists and pulled them from him, "I'm not dying; it's not like that...well not exactly."

"Then what is it like?" I moved forward and without thinking, I touched his face with my hand. A feeling of annoyance rose as I spoke without even thinking about it...it was as if  Winter and I were speaking together...

"and why did the doctor smack you in the head like you're an idiot?" I felt my eyes narrow.

And why did the doctor smack you in the head like you're an idiot? Winter spoke the same time I did.

"Well, I am an idiot." He sighed, his eyes averting again.

"Okay, and?" I stared up at him. He spoke like it was news to me that, despite his obvious physical prowess, he was dumber than a sack of rocks. I was even superpower he could read.

"There's this thing..." he took a deep breath. "It regards to the business of that mark on your neck and shoulder."

"You mean this," I stretched the neck of my shirt a bit, exposing the mark he had left on my skin roughly a week before.

The mark itself had been burning for a time, and had it not been for the occasional irritation and annoyance of people staring, I had mostly ignored it. I was more focused on the intense hot flashes my body had been getting more and more regularly.

I barely noticed Nicholas's fingers dance across the mark.

I moaned uncomfortably loudly as his fingers traced some of the lines.

My heart seemed to stop and my hands rushed to cover my mouth.

"Don't worry about it," he smirked suddenly.

"What is wrong?" I leaned closer, opened the shirt a bit more to expose the inflamed area of the mark he left. "What is this?" I jerked my head at it. "What is is that you cough up?" I added, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"It's called the Black Matter," he sighed and took my hand, "come, let's talk somewhere more private." He led me out of Paul's office and directly up the stairs to the room we shared. His back was pin straight and his foot steps were heavy and brooding.