Rebirth

Damon POV

"These are fucking good dude, holy shit."

Opening my eyes, I'm graced with the sight of Nicholas stuffing a cookie in his face. The compliment brings me a little joy, but otherwise, I couldn't care. After being up all night, cleaning the car and briefly stalking my target, I'm too tired to care.

"Sonja loves them too, she's just sleeping though."

"You should sleep too. Go home, take your meds, sleep. I'm fine by myself."

He smiles, "Too late. I went and get them last night." I roll my eyes at him and he sticks his tongue out at me. Looking back at Amaya to make sure she's still breathing, relief washes over me when I have confirmation that she is. However, my relief is short-lived. When I closed my eyes just before those black veins had reached her collarbones. Now, they're all up her neck to her ears and have disappeared beneath the shirt, towards her heart. Automatically, I'm sitting up.

"She's gonna complete the transition any minute now. You sure you wanna be here? It's gonna hurt if what we know is true."

I shake my head, "I need to be here." As if on queue, Amaya's heartbeat drastically slows. Nick, also hearing it, calls out to Sonja. Suddenly, she's shooting awake, her eyes flying open, breathing quick and ragged. She's confused and scared. I scramble to get closer to her and take her hand. She stares at me in shock, in pain. She breathes out my name.

I squeeze her hand, "I'm here. I'm right here. It's okay, it's gonna be okay." Tears break from her eyes and she cries out in pain. As a razor pain erupts in my chest, I do too.

"Damon!" Hands grip my shoulders, hauling me back off the bed. Pain as hot as lightning hits again, spiderwebbing through my chest, shooting down my gut. The room spins in front of me, Nick and Sonja, and even the bed disappearing. The incoherent yelling drowns out. My insides twist in on themselves like a knife is slicing through and rearranging my organs. My wolf howls at me. That mating bond, like a thick piece of string that I can always feel within myself, shakes. It shakes violently, pulling tight. I begin to think that the mating bond between us will snap. But it doesn't. The pain reaches its highest point and stops as if hitting a wall and bouncing back.

Abruptly, the pain vanishes, replaced with a throbbing soreness. Nick says something but my mind is blank as I scramble to my feet. My sore hand starts throbbing again as I use it to help me up. I almost leap back onto the bed and look over Aya. No heartbeat. No movement. Nothing.

Looking back at Sonja, panicking, I ask, "Is she gone?"

She shakes her head, "She's completed the transition. She'll be back soon." I almost slump in relief.

Aya POV

The pounding of my head is what wakes me up, severe horrible pounding, and an aching stomach on top of an aching body. Not having the energy to roll over, I just open my eyes. The air stings my eyes and causes them to water. After blinking a few times it seems to ease up quite a lot.

Everything is different. It's the first thing I notice. I can see the finest details in the wall, every bump and scratch in the paint. I can see every place that the painter began and paused whilst painting the walls, something that I've never been able to see before. The sounds too. I can hear birds chirping yes, but I can hear the same birds walking along the tree branches. I can hear three separate heartbeats and can somehow tell that they belong to people. I can hear two pairs of footsteps in the living room, two voices whispering to each other about someone's cookies. And the smells. Goddess Hecate. I thought the house smelled good before, now it's . . it smells like a bakery. On closer inspection I can smell vomit, I can smell blood. I can smell three different people, their very essence, their life. I can smell that they're alive, and I can also smell the immortality in their blood. It smells the same as it feels through my magic.

Looking to my left, I see a body beside me. The face isn't far from mine at all, and familiar. I try to reach out to him but my body won't move, too weak to move. It's an odd feeling. My mind has never felt better, it feels so big, so unfamiliar. Thoughts fly a million miles an hour and I'm able to keep track of each and every one. Yet, my body is too weak to even rollover.

I realize who the person beside me is a second later, the surprise of it almost makes e gasp. I thought he was handsome before . . It's like with completing this transition, my hormones reawakened. He's beautiful. I didn't notice before but his black hair actually has streaks of dark brown through it. That his jawline isn't perfectly sculpted, he has a bit of chubbiness to his face. A cute sort of chubbiness. He has freckles all over his face, they're so lightly colored. With my mortal eyes, I couldn't see them. Now I can. And the dimple in his cheek. He looks amazing.

"D . . D . . Dam . ."

My throat is scratchy and hurts, sore as if I've been throwing up constantly. It is so quiet, but the second I speak Damon's eyes fly open. They seem to glisten as he takes in my face, his bottom lip wobbling for half a second before he bites it.

This is so weird. I can see every tiny little movement he makes. I can see it with crystal clear clarity, almost like I can half sense what he's about to do before he does it.

"Good morning, sunshine," he whispers, lips tugging up at the corners. He turns onto his side and reaches out, caressing my cheek with the backs of his fingers. Despite the callouses, it's so soft.

He chuckles, "You like that?" He switches his fingers for his thumb, caressing just under my cheekbone, back and forth. I feel a million times better than before, but still like shit.

"Better," I breathe, my eyes feeling so heavy.

"I certainly hope all this wasn't just to avoid our date. That'll for sure make me feel very special," he jokes. Without the energy to laugh, I can manage just a smile, a tiny little one.

"No," I respond, finding it easier and easier to speak.

His brows shoot up almost to his hairline, "No? You mean, you were looking forward to it? Really?" I have little hesitation telling him the truth, so I do.

As if not believing me, he asks again, "Really?"

"Yes," I assure him. I was more than looking forward to it. I was nervous as hell and second-guessing everything, but I was so excited. For the first time in many years.

He smiles just a little, "Well, I tell you what. Hurry up and get better and we'll have that date, an even better one than the one I had planned already." I can't help but smile a little bit too. I like him.

His face turns sad all of a sudden, staring at me intently as he speaks, "Who made you do it?"

Swallowing hard, my chest tightens as I speak, "How do you know it wasn't me?"

I watch as his lips tighten, the skin around them turning pale, "Was it, Joshua? Truthfully this time." I see that he already knows the answer. He doesn't pry and instead twirls a strand of my hair around his finger.

"I'm dropping and picking you up from classes now, I'll be with you in your classes. I'm not letting him near you again." I almost want to tell him that I don't need his protection anymore, that even though I won't, I am capable of getting out of dangerous situations. But I can't let him know about me being a witch, and now a nightcrawler. He'd turn me in to the police, or the insane asylum, or the government. I wouldn't be killed, but I sure as hell would never see daylight again.

"What about your classes?" My confused question raises the corner of his lip more.

"I was gonna drop out anyway. And I wanted to let you know, I know . . about Joshua turning you. We don't have to talk about it, but I know." I don't bother trying to figure out how he knows. It doesn't matter how, the fact is that he does know. His thumb traces over my dry lips and he just stares at me, patiently awaiting my answer.

I finally ask him, "Why do you always stare?"

He blinks, lips twitching upward, "How can I not? You're beautiful." Immediately, I feel my cheeks heat up and I look away from his eyes. But he brings my face back up to look at him, staring intensely.

"You are," he says, "You're perfect. Don't let anyone tell you you're not." I swallow hard, tears welling as I picture my broken body, wounded flesh, and mutilated stomach and pussy.

"I think you've got me mixed with someone else."

His eyes suddenly become glassy, "Don't try that with me. You're beautiful, every bit of you. I could stare at you all day and all night." I press my lips together and shake my head, looking down at his bare chest. He's built like a God. Tall and muscly, with just the right amount of chubbiness to be cuddly. I remember how cuddly he was. How passionate. The feel of his lips on my stomach. His large, warm hands on my thighs. His thick fingers inside me.

"I've changed since you last saw me."

I actually hear him swallow, his heart skipping a beat. It's funny. I always thought nightwalkers could never get a moment of peace. But, it feels as if I've unlocked a part of my brain I didn't know I had. I only hear what I want to hear, whatever it is I'm focusing on. I could mute the world around me if I wanted to. It's fascinating. I could just go to sleep right here, right now, in complete utter silence.

"What did he do to you?

He doesn't receive an answer.