Consumed » Kai Parker

Forty Four

Kai's POV

"Hey, watch where you're going, dude!" The boy, dressed in what looked like a really cheap werewolf costume, shouts, after I knocked his shoulder, causing his drink to spill down his shirt.

I barely spare him a glance, my mind buzzing with raging thoughts, the last of which had to do with some frat kid's ruined clothing. As much as I'm tempted to stay here and unleash my fury on a certain vampire, I didn't want to look at Charlie right now, or be cornered by an attempt to get me to just hear her out. Right now, I'm fucking furious and I won't let her break me down with her soft, pleading voice and wide brown eyes. One look into those eyes, desperate for me to listen, and the wall I'm rebuilding as we speak will come crumbling down again–a power only she seems to have over me.

"You're not even gonna say sorry?" His incredulous voice calls when I continue to maneuver around him, en route for the exit out of this goddamned party.

"Nope," I answer dryly, without looking back.

"Oh, I am gonna fuck you up." His sweaty hand clamps down on my shoulder and I pause, red entering my vision, the invasion of space in dangerous combination with the maddening thoughts of Stefan and Charlie.

Whirling around, I grip his raised forearm tightly, piercing his widened gaze. "Frange os" leaves my lips lowly, his bone snapping satisfactorily in my hand and an agonized scream tears through his throat. I release him, letting his broken arm fall limp at his side. Surrounding party goers collectively turn to observe the interaction, holding interest for a few moments before moving on to another area.

"Shit, you-you're fucking crazy, how did you even-agh!" He cries, cradling his misshapen bone against his stained shirt, tears welling up in his eyes. Despite the little relief I got from physically hurting someone else, my mind and body still hum with fury, masked by a lazy smile directed towards the whimpering fraternity kid.

"Sorry," I chuckle. "Guess I don't know my own strength."

With a small wave, I walk away, calling over my shoulder, "You should get some ice on that."

His curses and sobs are drowned out by the strong pulse of twentieth-first century music that I hadn't yet gotten myself to explore. Throwing my hand out toward the front door with only wasted witnesses in close proximity, it flies open with the force of my magic and I stalk down the steps.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I let out an exasperated sigh, already having a pretty good idea about who's messaging me. Maybe from curiosity or just plain stupidity, I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone, glancing at the lit screen.

Kai, I'm sorry. Can we talk about this tonight?

To my utter annoyance, a not-so-small part of me yearns to say yes, fine, sure, come to my apartment as soon as the party's over and I'll hear you out and we can have sweet make-up sex on my bed, on the couch, on the kitchen counter, anywhere you want, as many times as we can, and you'll fall asleep all naked and beautiful in my arms.

Oh, for fuck's sake, I need to get a grip. I'm Kai Parker, god damn it. Since when do I let anyone affect my state of mind to this insane extent?

Not since Joshua.

A shudder racks my frame and a frustrated growl rips through my teeth. Comparing Charlie to Joshua, as if there's any comparison to be made there. That's a sure indication that I've had a long day.

Wanting nothing more than to put her out of my mind, I type out a curt response and press send.

No.