ground. He swung around, grabbed the nearest man and tossed him through the air, his body slammed against the wall. Bones cracked and a silencing moan fractured the air.
“What the hell are you!” Someone called out right before the sound of feet scurrying away was the only noise he heard.
“Your worst nightmare.”
He scanned the area; his two attackers lay unconscious in the dirt. He glanced down at his hands. They were covered in blood, the man’s blood. His nail beds were already healing over newly torn flesh. A new type of pain racked his body. A second ago, his muscles were tugging away from his bone, reshaping, his nerve endings rejuvenating at the atomic level. Something wasn’t right. Or was it? Everything had moved in fast motion. It was as if he were in a movie, watching a big Technicolor screen.
Reed dropped to his knees, lifted his head and drew in a haggard breath, then another. His anger dissipated, giving way to fatigue that washed over him, leaving him weak. He stood, wandered over to the men he’d disabled and stared down at him. What had he done? Were they dead? Each man moaned, stirred, easing the tightness in his chest. Sirens blared in a distance. Surely, his attackers hadn’t call the cops. How ironic would that be?
Standing, he wiped his hands down the legs of his pants and wondered how much luck he would need to get to the hotel without being stopped. He was haggard to say the least. He staggered to the opening of the alley, glanced from right to left, and after gathering his bearings he strolled down the street.
It took him less time to get to the hotel than he anticipated. Slowly he opened the door, figuring Denver wouldn’t be there. But she was. Relief, regret, remorse needled him, not sure which one played the most part. He moved swiftly and quietly to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He stood in front of the mirror and inspected his face, his body, and his hands. Bruises had already begun to heal. His knuckles were swollen but the abrasions were almost gone. The entire surfaces of his eyes were solid black, but they were lightening to the natural coloring of human.
He shook his head and turned on the shower, full force and hot. He needed the sting of the blast to remind him that there was still a part of him that was human. He needed something to help him figure out what just happened. Never before had his beast been so strong, so angry or so deadly. He stood under the waterfall and allowed it to pound his flesh. The hot water had a sting to it, slicing across his flesh as powerful as the earlier knife. It felt good.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Denver turned over, swiped out her hand and felt the cold bed beside her. Her heart sank. She’d hoped Reed was there. He’d been gone for hours and she wondered if he’d ever come back. Had she angered him so badly that he’d abandoned her? She sat up, and there he was. His body slumped in the chair near the window. His head tilted against the back of the chair. She scanned him from head to toe. Something was different, off. She sniffed the air and remnants of old blood assailed her nostrils.
Her gaze settled on his chest. His respirations were rapid, unsettled. She could see the vein pulse in his neck. How fast did his heart beat? Was he in distress? Was he dreaming? She sat up, pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Slowly rocking her body, she watched him, not being able to take her gaze away. He was so far under she didn’t think an atomic bomb could wake him. What happened those long hours he’d been gone? Where had he gone? What had he done? Nothing made sense. An uneasiness punched her in her stomach. Something was wrong.
She watched him for three hours. The sun in the sky lowered behind the buildings, casting shadows of dancing figures on the wall. Only then did he relax. She swiped at the tears pooling in the corner of her eye.
“Don’t.”
She jumped at his voice. He opened his eyes, blew out a breath. Damn, she’d done it again. She’d become an insult to him. Not what she wanted. He raised his gaze, stared into her eyes. But he didn’t speak.
“I thought you’d left me.” She scooted