Pretty Painful - K.A Knight Page 0,9

How is that possible?” I murmur, looking to him for answers.

He stares at me, that fucking blank mask in place. “Maybe you aren’t human,” he suggests.

A choked laugh escapes my throat as tears form in my eyes. “How is that possible?” I get up and start pacing. “I was human! I was born human!” I scream, looking at him. Like I’m lost at sea and he’s my lighthouse, I need him to guide me.

He sits farther back. “Bloodlines are weakening due to low birth rates, interracial matings, and the killings. I am betting it has diluted the bloodlines of most creatures out there. It’s possible you were born with the blood of a supernatural, your whole family could have been, and they wouldn’t have known. It probably wasn’t strong enough to pass your human side until...” He nods. “Until you needed it, until it was all you had left.”

I sit again, deflating. “You’re saying there are people out there just walking around with supernatural qualities hidden?” I laugh.

He shrugs. “Who knows, probably. They wouldn’t even notice unless they had a lot of the blood left from their original lines, or if it was pulled from them, destroying their humanity in the process. I can’t really say. I’ve been locked in here too long to know.”

“How long have you been in here?” I find myself asking.

“Over one hundred years,” he grunts.

“Well, shit. At least I know I will be dead long before that, thank fuck.”

“Don’t be so sure. If you truly have blood of the originals, you might live for a long time depending how strong it is or what you are.” He shrugs.

“What I am?” I whisper, swallowing hard. “You said I would get this from my parents?” I inquire.

“Yes,” he answers. “Your sister might have been as well.”

It twists something inside of me and my voice is bitter when it comes out next. “Doubtful.”

“Why is that, little one?” he growls, sounding genuinely interested.

“She wasn’t my sister by blood,” I say, staring at him, letting those black eyes ground me even while they make me want to crawl over there again and feel his heat. Would he feel that warm all the time? When he touched me…inside me? Licking my lips, I refocus on him. “I was adopted when I was three, I never knew my biological parents. The couple who adopted me thought they couldn’t have kids, Rachel, my sister, was a surprise and the doctors called her a miracle.”

“Blood or not, she was your sister, correct?” he rumbles and I nod, biting back tears.

“I have brothers,” he offers and then frowns, like he is unsure why he said that, but I grasp onto it, anything to distract me from the pain in my chest.

“How many?” I ask, sitting back and crossing my legs at the ankles.

He copies the movement, his eyes closing again, letting me finally breathe normally with those orbs no longer on me. “Six,” he replies.

I don’t reply, knowing he needs sleep and I don’t want to piss him off. I watch him as he slumbers, wondering how he isn’t mad if it’s been one hundred years. Well, madder than he is. What is he? I never asked. Do I believe this whole…supernatural thing? But I can’t deny what I did, no human could do that. If I’m capable of killing four men…what is he capable of? He’s old, I know that, ancient, if I believe his words.

It makes me wonder how they captured him. His eyes slit open, like a snake, and focus on me. “I can hear the cogs in your head turning, little one. Try to rest, there is not much else do in here.”

I nod, looking away and feeling guilty for being caught staring, even though he doesn’t seem to mind. I glance back every now and again, and I notice he sleeps lightly. Whenever I even so much as shift, his eyes flash open and lock on me until he growls. I gasp, letting out a little scream as he flashes quickly across the room. One second, he was against the wall, the next he is scooping me in his arms. He sits back down where he was and drops me in his lap, locking his arms around me and closing his eyes again.

“Err, Mishal?” I ask, almost a squeak.

He ignores me so I poke his chest. Those eyes flash open as he looks down at me with an arched eyebrow. “What?” he growls.

“Erm, why am I in your lap?” I