Chapter 3: Bianca - Little - Change

Bianca
Little

I woke up with blood on my sheets.

The destruction of my precious property was, at first, overshadowed by the crippling cramps that had me curled into a ball. However, the pain I was fairly used to—although as the memory faded in between cycles, sometimes the reminder still took my breath away.

But it was the ruin of the thousand-thread-count baby pink sheets, which Titus had special ordered for me, that made me wince.

“I hate being a girl,” I moaned into my pillow, thanking my lucky stars that I’d remembered to stock up on my womanly supplies in preparation for this inevitability. Was it true that we could have chosen to be born into our current forms? If so, then why would Mu make such a stupid decision?

There was nothing fun about this at all.

“Bianca.” Damen knocked at my door, and his usual morning wake-up call caused a ripple of panic to rush through me. I sat up, hugging the blanket as I stared at the closed door in terror. “Are you awake? We’ll have to get going soon.”

“Yes!” I half screamed, half squealed my response as I reflexively pulled the blankets to my chin. “It’s fine, don’t come in!”

There was a short pause, then, “I wasn’t going to come in.” His voice was laced with suspicion, I could practically feel his scrutiny. “But why?”

What a liar—he came in every morning, being all flamboyant and cheerful. There’d be no reason why today he’d chosen differently. “No reason.” My answer wasn’t even convincing to me. “Just stay out.”

I could visualize the doubt passing over his freshly scrubbed, chiseled face. He’d frown ever so deeply, and his eyes would glitter in suspicion, and he’d totally not be able to contain that nosy part of him that wanted to go, “What’s ‘fine’? What’s going on?”

The doorknob twisted and my heart leapt into my throat.

“Don’t worry about it.” I moved to jump from the bed, to make it to the door before he could finish opening it, but only managed to crash onto the floor—blankets coming with me—as my foot twisted in the sheet.

I rolled over, trying to get up, but only managed to trap myself further in a blanket burrito.

“What was that sound?”

I watched from my newly acquired, upside-down position as Damen, without so much as an official welcome, pushed open my bedroom door and strolled into the room like he owned the place.

Which he technically did, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was I was currently vulnerable and frumpy. And, of course he’d look impeccable in his fancy suit and freshly groomed hair while I was a blood-covered, smothered mess on the floor.

“Bianca, you…" He surveyed the room, then, finally, his focus landed on me, sprawled out on the floor. His features softened and his eyebrow raised curiously. “What in the world are you doing, baby girl?” he asked, crouching on the floor in front of me. “If you wanted me to buy you a sleeping bag, you could have just asked. Are you planning another slumber party?”

“I don’t want a sleeping bag!” I snapped. It was probably an overreaction, but I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not—that too-bright smile on top of everything else was making me irritable. “I’m stuck.”

Damen’s mirth faded and he frowned at me, taking in my expression. Then, to my utmost horror, he slowly moved his attention to my bed, where the evidence I had momentarily forgotten lay.

Don’t look! I wanted to scream, but of course, my voice remained frozen in humiliation.

His brows drew together, and his frown deepened. I hoped that this was the part where he’d run away.

But he didn’t.

“Wait here,” he told me—as if I could go anywhere—then he got to his feet, brushed off his knees, then slipped from the room without another word.

I wanted to scream after him—had he not noticed that I was trapped? But there was no use being annoyed with him. My energy was better left spent twisting around on the floor, squirming for freedom.

I’d managed to roll onto my stomach by the time he returned, and I craned my face up, pressing my chin into the thick carpet as I watched him. He was carrying fresh sheets and two folded towels, along with a few more things I couldn’t quite see from my current position.

He put the items into a pile on the floor and dropped to his knees beside me. “Here,” he said, shoving a piece of chocolate into my mouth before I could even protest. Then, as I chewed the sweet in stunned silence, he helped me sit upright onto my folded knees, and untwisted the sheet holding me prisoner.

We stood, and he grabbed one of the large, fluffy towels and held it between us.

“Strip,” he commanded.

“But—” I looked toward the door of the in-suite bathroom; there really was no reason why I couldn’t just go in there.

However, Damen didn’t appear to notice. “Throw your pajamas on the floor. I’ll take them to the laundry room.”

Damen was throwing me off, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. I’d woken up quite grouchy, but now I was only curious. No one had ever bothered trying to help me before during this lovely time, and despite the fact that it made no sense at all, I found myself obeying him without thinking.

I wasn’t even embarrassed as I pulled my pajamas over my head and dropped them into a pile.

“Okay.” I was naked, but he’d still held the towel in the air between us. Strangely enough though, I wasn’t nervous at all. Which was ironic because there’d been plenty of moments in the past when I felt that he’d be the most likely of the boys to sneak a peek. But there was something in his mannerisms that honestly made me feel that being a pervert was the last thing on his mind.

He didn’t say anything as he wrapped the towel around me without looking away from my face, then, as he stopped in front of me once more, grabbed my wrist, turning my palm up between us, and dropped two white pills into my hand.

“What’s this?” I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen these before. Since my last ordeal, any manner of unmarked medication made me wary.

“Pain medicine,” he stated, holding up a bottle of orange juice that already had a straw in it. “You said that you had issues. Don’t worry, it’s your prescription. Trinity signed off on a script when we got back.”

The strange feeling of contentment began to fade, and I looked at him in suspicion. “Why would she do that?”

“Because we asked her to. We don’t want to see you hurting, and you refuse to ask for help.” Damen didn’t seem to understand how close he was to that fine line between acceptable behavior and being overbearing. Hadn’t he learned anything about me? “Don’t worry, we didn’t tell her anything.” He waved his hand in the air dismissively. “She trusts Julian’s judgement.”

“His judgement?” I asked and my pulse began to calm. “What does that have to do with—”

“Julian is still listed as your medical provider,” Damen replied with a shrug. “And he’s able to prescribe you medicine, just as long as his mother or another doctor signs off on it.”

The short flare of my anger faded, leaving behind an empty hollowness in its wake.

I truly and honestly did not understand—why did they care so much? Normal men would just ignore this was even a thing, but my guys had even gone out of their way to make sure that I wouldn’t be hurting.

Was it really that important to them?

“There.” Damen cupped my hand and lifted the medicine closer to my face. “You’re hurting, right?”

“A little…” I muttered, glancing away.

“Then go ahead, baby girl,” he said. “You’ll feel better, and you can spend all day in the library if you want. Don’t worry, I’ll remind you when it’s time for another. So you can relax.”

My skin felt warm and even the pain seemed less intense. I couldn’t fathom why I’d need him to remind me of anything—cell phones these days came equipped with the ability to set reminders, and so it really wasn’t necessary at all. But at the same time, I rather liked the idea.

It meant that he was thinking of me, and would have to think of me, all day long.

Why did my breath catch in excitement at the thought?

This wasn’t like me at all. Damen had to focus on his work. He had all manner of practical matters to attend to.

But, still, as his sincere, gray eyes burned into mine, my skin warmed and I found myself nodding in agreement. Because, if I was being honest, I did like it when Damen had to think of me—and no one else. Ever.

It’d also be best to wipe them from his memories, but that would never happen.

And—back to reality—I was feeling unwell enough to indulge in this fantasy, at least just once. It was nice to pretend.

I put the pills in my mouth, even going so far as to allow Damen to hold the straw to my mouth. And, although I couldn’t imagine why, he had the strangest look of victory on his face at this.

Men.

“More,” he demanded after I’d swallowed the pills. “I want half of this bottle gone.”

How bossy, but I was thirsty—and if he was going to sit here and wait on me hand and foot, then it was all good. So even though I felt like an idiot, I obeyed. Besides, my hands were full holding up my towel. Obviously, this was the most logical solution.

Although, the way he watched me was growing both amusing and increasingly disturbing.

Hadn’t anyone ever taught him it was rude to stare?

“Good girl.” He put the bottle on my vanity before picking up the clean sheets. “Now go take a bath while I clean things up out here.”

Okay, now this was entirely unnecessary. After all, while menstruation was a natural bodily function, it was still rather gross; plus, it was more than a bit embarrassing to think that Damen was going to clean up after me. “You don’t need to—”

He stepped forward, pressing his finger to my mouth. “Will you please just let me take care of you for once?”

Just once? Was he insane?

Didn’t he realize how much he’d taken care of me already?

Despite that, I didn’t protest as he pushed his hands against my lower back and gently nudged me toward the bathroom door.

* * *

“Are you sure you can stay?” I ducked under Damen’s arm as held the glass door open for me. It was still early, and the coffee shop wasn’t entirely filled yet, but there were a good number of students already present. My table was still empty in the corner. “Dr. Stephens might have work for you to be doing this morning.”

“Work can wait.” Could it really? Dr. Stephens was a no-nonsense sort. But as he followed me into the room and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, I couldn’t help but not be entirely concerned about it either. “Let me help you get settled in. I’ll bring you a coffee before I go. He’ll understand.”

I doubted that. It was just last night when Dr. Stephens was bragging about fae having inhuman levels of pain tolerance.

Besides, there was no plausible excuse Damen could give for his absence that wouldn’t be embarrassing for me.

“Sit.” He’d continued to issue commands in that certain way that made my neck grow warm, and he ignored the stares from the other patrons as he pulled out my chair. When I didn’t move fast enough, he touched my elbow, leading me into the set. “I’ll get you your coffee.”

“But—” Did he even know what I drank? I wasn’t sure he’d paid that much attention. Yet the man was on the move before I could get his attention. He’d moved to the back of the line, nose already buried into that bright red monstrosity of a phone.

This was nice and all, and I did like the attention. It was thanks to his efforts that after my bath, and medicine, I was beginning to feel human again.

But only God could help him if he returned with one of those espresso-spiked calamities he called a latte.

My phone chimed, and I pulled out the device. The tiny charms dangled against my hand as I peered into the screen.

A text from Damen?

I peered at him—the man was pointedly ignoring me now.

Why was he texting me? We were literally ten feet away from each other!

Damen: Have I told you that you are a vision this morning? It’s almost like you dressed up this way just for me. If I had a rose for every beautiful thing about you, I’d be walking in my garden forever.

I lowered the phone slightly, narrowing my eyes at the man. Was he having a stroke?

He was the one who’d picked out my outfit this morning: a floral print A-line dress with a black-laced slip, combined with dark tights, a pink sweater, and basic flats. And while it might be a bit heavier on the lace than my usual, I wasn’t complaining.

We seemed to have similar tastes in clothes.

Or maybe he was trying to text someone else and sent the message to me instead.

I frowned as my hand suddenly started to shake. Now that the idea had taken root in my mind, I couldn’t let it go. If he was going to say stupid crap, I’d much rather it be toward me.

But slightly toned down. There was no need for theatrics.

Me: I want a mocha latte please. You should get a decaf for yourself.

I smiled, sending the message. I, too, could flirt. Practicality was the key. Someone had to look after his health and think of long-term matters.

I would be nothing like his other women who only cared about what could be achieved in that moment.

Damen: What are you implying?

My throat closed in sudden alarm, and I glanced back at the man. He was looking at me now, a deep frown etched onto his expression.

This was so stupid; we could just talk and end this nonsensical conversation. But as I stood, he waved at me, gesturing for me to sit back down.

He moved closer to the front of the line as I typed out my reply.

Me: That I care about your health?

Damen’s lips quirked as he read the response, and the dark cloud suddenly lifted.

Damen: Compassionate and beautiful, you’re truly my equal in every way.

My forehead furrowed and a strange sense of indignation rose in me. What did that even mean? It was flirty, yet somehow insulting too—as if Damen viewed everyone else to be beneath him.

I glanced back up—he stood tall, shoulders squared, and air assured, as he spoke to the barista. Even as he ordered our drinks, he was strongly confident even through the menial task of getting a coffee. The man never failed to fill the room with his brilliant authority regardless of his actions.

He probably did believe everyone was beneath him. That was a completely Damen-like attitude to have. Just how did he become so arrogant?

“Will you stop staring at my brother?” Finn slipped into Damen’s seat—which was, of course, Finn’s usual seat from way back when this was our spot and we were friends. Not that anyone was keeping tabs. “Everyone is going to think you’re in love with him and the whole plan will be ruined.”

Love?

“W-what?” I sputtered, fighting to calm my racing heart. Wherever would Finn get that impression? Romantic love for the onmyoji was the furthest thing from my mind.

Damen Abernathy had a lot of growing up to do before he was ready for love.

Then there were my issues.

“You have no idea what I was thinking!” I whisper-hissed across the table.

Where did he even come from? This was supposed to be my alone time. Didn’t Finn have sinister things to be doing?

“I have to study and was trying to use the library at home. But it’s difficult to concentrate with Bryce hanging around. Besides, it’s easy to read your expressions. Your nose was all wrinkled, and your eyebrow was starting to twitch.” Finn leaned back in his seat, locking his fingers behind his head. “Clearly you were making fun of him, which, I admit, isn’t hard to do. He has that kind of personality. However, the fact that you’re harping about it also means you care. If you’re not interested in a person, you ignore their existence.”

I curled my hands into fists in my lap. How dare he presume to know anything about me. Besides, he was wrong. “I insult you all the time,” I pointed out.

If that was the case, it meant that I liked Finn. Which totally and completely was not true.

“Right…” Finn’s expression closed. “There’s a fine line between love and hate.”

“I hate you,” I told him, and I hoped he’d never forget it.

“That’s my seat.” Damen was suddenly standing at our table, holding two white paper cups in his hands, and he scowled at his brother.

Finn frowned up at him and pushed his glasses higher on his nose with his pointer finger. The air around us seemed to still as he responded, “I was here first.”

Damen narrowed his eyes, tone dropping an octave. The sudden change in his voice caused my stomach to tighten and a tingle to go down the back of my spine. “I’m here now,” he said, placing a white cup in front of me. The comforting smell of chocolate filled my senses, but I didn’t move to get my drink yet. Instead, my focus was torn between the two brothers.

What was this foreboding air?

Finn wasn’t affected by Damen’s sultry voice—which was probably a good thing. In fact, since Damen wasn’t even looking at me, I doubted he meant to be seductive at all. “So what?” He scowled and crossed his arms on the top of the table, leaning forward, he challenged the other onmyoji. “What are you going to do about it?”

Damen’s posture shifted, and the darkness began to recede just a little, and I was finally able to move. I grasped my coffee, holding it tightly between my laced open-fingered-gloved hands, still looking between the two of them while hiding my mouth behind the drink.

This was a fight between brothers. Who was I to intervene?

Besides, I was kind of hoping to see the two of them come to blows. Damen had spent so long trying to excuse Finn’s behavior that it’s gotten rather old. And—unlike Julian—I could trust Damen to not murder the blonde.

Then again, Finn was a very skilled martial artist. Could Damen defeat him? The older brother was a bit spoiled, which could have made him soft.

I wasn’t entirely certain who’d win.

I didn’t like not being sure. Now I was curious and needed to know—for my own edification.

Finn launched into the first monologue. “You have no idea what’s going on; even the Overseers come to me first. You spend so much time with your head up your ass that you’ve become a disgrace among onmyoji. So, no, you can’t hope to win against me—anyone can see that.” Finn pointed at me. “Even Bianca’s not rooting for you.”

“Hey!” I protested, lowering my coffee back to the table. My face grew warm as Damen’s cautious gaze landed on me. “I never said that! I’m always on your side.”

“But you think Finn is more responsible.” Damen’s frown turned into an all-out scowl.

Well, that wasn’t necessarily correct—but it wasn’t entirely wrong either. Even when doing his evil bidding of manipulating me and keeping me in the dark, Finn had done so with a religious dedication that only the truly committed could pull off.

I had yet to see Damen see a single thing through on his own. Then again, I also hadn’t known him very long, and Damen was a complicated man.

Who knew what was going on inside his head?

Finn’s mouth curled, and the chattering of the coffee-shop patrons grew even more distant. “See?” He sounded so proud.

Damen’s confident expression dropped, and the silence in the room sounded large as guilt twisted my stomach into knots. Sure, sometimes my thoughts got away from me, but I’d never meant to hurt his feelings.

“No!” I twisted in my seat, throat closing as I grabbed onto Damen’s sleeve. Despite everything, he was the one who’d started everything—bringing me out of the dark place where I’d been. Sure, he was relentless and pushy, but if it hadn’t been for that, I’d be nowhere. Damen had a way of pushing past boundaries and achieving the impossible. It was his infectious energy that made everything happen.

After all, he’d convinced me to be his friend, hadn’t he?

Everything else was minor details. That’s what I was for—to make sure plans went smoothly. “I believe in you!” I told him, and his eyes widened. “I do! You can do anything when you put your mind to it!”

Even with the power of my will, right now, I was certain that he could beat Finn to a bloody pulp.

Damen blinked and shook his head once, his glasses briefly reflecting the bright café lights. “Well, that’s good to know,” he stumbled over his words, moving back an inch.

The man normally oozed confidence, so I couldn’t imagine why he was faltering now. The air between us grew warmer as I asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat, no longer meeting my eyes.

My pulse was beginning to race as worry coursed through me. I pulled at his hand, trying to undo whatever this was between us now. “What—?”

“Oh, this is just disgusting.” Brayden appeared, slapping his hands on the surface of the table. His voice lacked his usual light natured timbre, and his playful eyes blazed in annoyance. “I’m taking my break and I have to walk in to see this? My sister-in-law is off-limits, Abernathy!”

“What?” Damen blinked rapidly and stepped back, pulling himself out of my reach. I twisted my hands in my lap. My discomfort grew as awareness began to seep into me once more.

We were still in quite a public place, and more than half of the inhabitants of the room were watching us with undisguised curiosity. There was even a group of girls in the corner, pointing in our direction and whispering frantically amongst themselves.

“And you!” Brayden rounded on Finn, who was sitting back in his seat, glaring at the table. “How could you let this happen?”

“Why do you think I’m here?” Finn’s reply was barely discernible through his clenched teeth. “There’s only so much I can do. It’s like he doesn’t even care.”

At this, the dumbfounded look faded from Damen’s eyes, and his jaw locked as his expression closed. “I care.”

“Well, you have a strange way of showing it. Your irresponsibility astounds me,” Brayden snapped. Then he turned to me. His eyes seemed brighter somehow, skin glowing. I froze under the force of his anger, suddenly unable to breathe. He studied me for a moment, the roar of coffee shop chatter pounding through my head as the tan room closed in around me, before he looked to Damen once more. “If she becomes a target because of any of you, don’t make the mistake in thinking your rank alone will save you,” his words were a low hiss, but echoed loudly in my ears. “Bryce and I let the incident in the forest go, but we won’t overlook such a huge lapse in judgement again.”

He’d threatened Damen before, but that’d seemed more in good-natured fun.

This, however, was not a joke. “Brayden?”

He moved at the sound of my voice, his hand wrapping around my arm in a quick motion as he pulled me up. I stumbled to my feet, falling into him, but he hardly seemed to notice.

Although, from the way that Finn’s eyebrows suddenly drew together and Damen’s jaw tightened, the two of them had seen.

“Hey—” Damen lowered his head, and his tone held the hint of a warning.

But Brayden interrupted him as he grabbed my purse. “She’s not yours,” he said, voice at a conversational tone now. He moved back, pulling me with him, as his fingers shook around my arm. “So stay away.”

I expected Damen, at the very least, or even Finn, who could be hot-headed himself, to respond, but neither brother did. Instead, my last glimpse into the coffee shop was of Finn’s slightly apologetic frown and Damen looking away, dark fury pouring off him in waves.

I could only stare at the two of them helplessly as I was whisked away, wondering what just happened.