Page 12 of Map of Pain
Don’t upset him,whispered the shattered remnants of Gianmarco’s pet.
Nick remained motionless, paralyzed by the competing voices. Each part of him wanted desperately to live, to save Caleb, but none could agree on how to survive this moment.
Pain crept back into his awareness, first as a whisper, then a shout. His knees ached from countless hours spent on Gianmarco’s marble floors. The joints in his hand throbbed from old breaks that never healed properly. Worst was the amputation site—a radiating, hot pulse that grew stronger with each heartbeat.
Luka rose from his position, approaching with hands still deliberately visible. The sudden movement sent a jolt of adrenaline through Nick’s system.
“Stay back!”Nick stumbled backward, voice cracking.“Just—stay there while I figure this out.”
His legs trembled beneath him, threatening to buckle as exhaustion and pain seeped deeper into his bones. The infection might be treated, but his body remained weak.
Luka stopped immediately, respecting the boundary. He demonstrated a slow, deep breath—in through the nose, out through the mouth—then pointed at Nick, suggesting he do the same.
Nick didn’t mirror the calming breath. Couldn’t. His chest felt too tight, lungs refusing to expand properly. The room continued its slow spin as more pain flooded back in, washing away the temporary relief Luka had provided earlier. He gripped the footboard of the bed to steady himself. All the options seemed bad. All the parts of him pulled in different directions.
Nick’s legs decided for him. His knees buckled beneath him. Before he could hit the floor, strong hands caught him around the waist, steadying him. Luka held him upright, allowing Nick to remain on his feet while providing just enough support to keep him from collapsing.
Nick tensed, waiting for the hands to wander, to explore, to hurt—but they remained exactly where they’d landed. No painful grip, no threatening pressure, just a touch felt clinical,purposeful. Not like Gianmarco’s lingering fingers or a Society handler’s bruising grasp.
“Let go of me,”Nick said, forcing hardness into his voice. The hunter spoke through him, cold and commanding.
Luka frowned, a flicker of something—hurt?—crossing his features. He released his grip, hands hovering close as Nick swayed but remained upright.
Nick’s thoughts tangled together. The vampire had listened. Had respected his demand instead of punishing him for it. That wasn’t how this was supposed to work. Monsters took. They didn’t listen.
Luka gestured toward the bed, then back to Nick with a questioning expression. He pulled his phone from his pocket with deliberate slowness, every movement telegraphed as if to avoid startling Nick. His fingers tapped rapidly across the screen before he turned it toward Nick.
If you rest, you’ll get better faster.
Nick stared at the bed, torn between practicality and fear. The hunter part of him recognized the strategic value in regaining strength. The broken part that still belonged to Gianmarco feared punishment for accepting comfort.
Trust. Just for now.The voice rose again, quiet but persistent.
Nick nodded once, a sharp, decisive movement. He took a tentative step toward the bed, then another. Luka’s hands ghosted along his torso, not quite touching but ready to catch him if he fell. The supportive presence made Nick move with more confidence, a fact that disturbed him. He shouldn’t feel safer with a monster nearby.
He reached the bed and eased himself onto it, never taking his eyes off Luka. His body remained rigid as he reclined against the pillows, the unexpected softness feeling alien against his aching muscles and bones. The truck bed’s hard metal surface had beenuncomfortable but familiar—like the box under Gianmarco’s bed, like the concrete floors of Society safe houses.
The hospital room felt vast and exposed. Nick knew it was a small space, but his perception warped it into something cavernous and threatening. Too many angles. Too many approaches. Too many ways for someone to reach him while he slept. His breathing accelerated, growing shallow and rapid as panic clawed up his throat.
Luka’s hand extended toward him, hovering above his chest, asking permission without words. Nick made no move to stop him, frozen between fear and desperate curiosity. The hand descended, resting lightly on his sternum. Luka gently took Nick’s hand and placed it against his own chest.
Luka closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose. The vampire’s lips moved silently, counting to five. Then he exhaled through his mouth. Nick felt the steady rise and fall beneath his palm, the rhythmic expansion and contraction of lungs that didn’t need air.
Without conscious decision, Nick found himself mimicking the pattern. Inhale through the nose—exhale through the mouth. The panic receded with each breath, ebbing away like a tide pulling back from shore.
Luka withdrew his hands, opening his eyes to meet Nick’s gaze. A smile spread across his face—not Gianmarco’s predatory grin or Henderson’s cold smirk, but something genuine that reached his eyes. He gave Nick two enthusiastic thumbs up.
Nick gaped at him, utterly bewildered. This creature defied every category, every warning, every lesson. Vampires were monsters. They hurt. They manipulated. They destroyed.
But this one had caught him when he fell, respected his boundaries, and demonstrated breathing through panic without demanding anything in return.
What are you?
Chapter six
Monsters don't laugh like that...
Nick
