Eclipse of Vengeance

09.Scars

Tecumseh, Oklahoma

My bald tires treaded against the slippery parking lot of the motel, the motel I had told Silas to meet me at. Just as I put the vehicle in park, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I extracted the phone, glancing at the message from Silas that read, "Room 15" Yep asshole definitely has a tracker on this phone, but this asshole might be my only chance... my only chance at freedom.

I opened the door, shuddering against the bitter air. My eyes strained at the flashing motel sign above. Squeezing the wrap around my right hand tighter as I pressed my swollen ankle against the glistening pavement. Stifling a groan when I attempted to place all my weight on it. Please don't be broken, I silently prayed, although no god has ever taken mercy on me. Hobbling, I unloaded my duffel from the trunk, still needing to stitch up my wounds. With every limping step I took, a sharp pain shot up my leg.

Swinging the duffel over my shoulder I grimaced as it made contact with the talon marks on my back-bitch got me good. Would I ever tell anyone it was an elderly lady who did it? No.

I knocked three times against the light green door, leaning up against the frame to take a little weight off of my ankle. The door instantly swung open. "You need to pick-" An obvious insult about to fly out of Silas' mouth was halted as he took in my state, and the amusement from his perfect features fell, shrouding themselves in an unreadable mask."You look like hell," he said, scanning over the bruises on my face and neck that have turned into a yellow-brown color, the split in my lip from birdbrain, and the blood I couldn't scrub off my clothes.

"Thanks," I huffed, limping past him. "I need to get inside before anyone sees me covered in blood."

I let the duffel collide with the floor, as I practically fell into the armchair in the corner of the room. "You know how to stitch?" I questioned, glancing up at Silas who still stood in the doorway while I unzipped the boot of my injured ankle.

"Does it look like I know how to stitch?" he scoffed, taking a couple steps forwards. "I'm a two hundred year old vampire, I've never had such a need."

"Can you learn?" I didn't even look up at him, instead I pulled my sock down fighting the grimace as my eyes examined my purple and ballooning ankle. I moved it around, biting back a wince. Although it looks ugly it doesn't appear to be broken, very fortunate in my case.

"That looks disgusting," he quipped, taking a seat against the bed a few feet away.

I scowled at him. "Can. You. Learn," I gritted out, not appreciating his comments at the moment.

"I don't see how stitching would be useful for a swollen ankle." His face bunched up in confusion.

"It's not for my ankle you oaf," I growled, slipping off my jacket. "I had a corvus try to steal my heart...literally."

I lifted myself up with a wince, heading for the full body mirror hanging on the bathroom door. I tried not to frown when my eyes met my own in the mirror. Silas was indeed correct. I looked like hell. The bruises look even more gross than I remember. Dried blood I couldn't see at the stream still remained caked into the crevices of my face. My bottom lip was swollen with a slit right down the middle. I looked down to the tan cut pile carpet as I turned to see my back, not wanting to see my face any longer.

There were five holes in my gray shirt, with crimson streaks lining the fabric which makes sense. I could feel it bleeding more on the drive here. I went to raise my shirt to look but my gaze flicked over to Silas.

"No questions, no pity," I scowled, my eyes enforcing my seriousness. An apprehensive expression took hold of those flawless features while leaning back on his elbows, but nodded nonetheless.