Night Beckons

by Colleen Gleason

  “How about going to find Theo and letting him know there’s something to eat?” Vonnie said casually. “That man eats more than Sammy and Tyler combined!”

  “He’s back from Yellow Mountain?” Selena asked, just as casually.

  Vonnie shot her a look laced with skepticism, a little smile twitching her lips. “He’s up to the arcade, I think.”

  What would Theo want with all those old things in the arcade? And who’d given him permission to go there?

  Vonnie answered before she could ask. “Well, it’s Frank. He’s taken a bit of a shine to the kid, and said he could go up there.”

  Kid. Right. He was a kid.

  Selena had to keep reminding herself of that.

  The house they lived in and where Selena cared for her patients was huge—a mansion, said Vonnie; a hacienda, argued Frank—but they used very little of the area for living. And since there weren’t many people who wanted to share space with constantly dying people, it was only Frank, Vonnie, Selena and Sam who actually lived in the long, four-story building.

  What they called the arcade took up the entire third floor of the house, and the doors had been sealed off by Frank years ago so that no one—especially the snoot—knew it existed. Selena had seen arcades on DVDs, and Vonnie had apparently been to them before the Change—but the one here was much larger and more interesting than anything she’d ever seen, if one considered rows and shelves and counters of old machines interesting. She hadn’t been up here for more than five years, she guessed, and only briefly with Frank.

  When she opened the door, which Frank had fixed to look as if it was boarded up but really wasn’t, at first she didn’t see Theo anywhere.

  “Theo?” Selena called, hearing a soft whirr from one of the far corners. She realized belatedly that she should have put on shoes before coming up to this dusty, abandoned place.

  No answer. She walked toward the whirring sound and became aware of a quiet clicking, a rattle—he was definitely there. She found him then, around a corner with the window behind him open to stir the air. There wasn’t much dust, thanks, she assumed to Frank.

  Theo didn’t look up as she approached. He was staring at the screen of a computer. His lips were moving and his brows furrowed as his hands moved like lightning over a keyboard, clicking the keys, stabbing them with emphasis, then suddenly, “Fuck you, asswipe fucker, you know you’re fucked if you don’t fucking do what I fucking say!” …and then he was back attacking the keys with his fingers as if his life depended on it.

  “My, what a sweet-talker you are,” Selena said, moving closer, fascinated by the intensity on his face. His eyes were so focused, his hair standing up in all sorts of loops and spikes like the feathers of a ruffled bird.

  He whipped around to look at her, hands settling on the keys. The surprise in his expression was fleeting, but indicated that he truly hadn’t heard her approach. His face seemed strained, a little tight, as if something was bothering him.

  “If she would behave and do what I wanted her to, I wouldn’t have to get tough on her,” he said, his expression softening. “Females can be very temperamental.” Humor warmed his eyes. And warmed her. “I’m glad to see you. I needed a break.”

  Selena walked closer, her attention drawn to that writhing red dragon on his arm, and up along the swell of his bicep to a solid, curving shoulder. Not exactly a kid…she blocked the rest of the thought from her mind.

  No more pity-kisses. That was going to be her new mantra.

  Selena regrouped. “We females certainly can be temperamental if the situation warrants it,” she replied, turning her attention resolutely to the screen. It was lit up with all sorts of characters—lines and lines of them. She’d never seen a computer in real life, working like this. Only on DVDs, and then what was on the screen looked a lot different—almost DVD-like. This looked much less exciting.

  Nevertheless, her skin prickled with worry. It was dangerous. He shouldn’t be here.

  “Yes, especially when they disappear without warning,” he commented, holding her gaze now with his dark one. “Last night…did it occur to you that I might be a little concerned for your safety when you went off outside the walls?”

  “Does it occur to you that I’m a grown woman and well able to take care of myself?” she replied very mildly. She didn’t want or need to argue with him about this again. He seemed to be looking at her feet, or the floor. She hoped he didn’t see another spider—or something worse—but she wasn’t going to ask, as the likelihood of that was higher than she preferred.

  Then all at once, she realized the significance of what she’d somehow ignored, and her brain refocused. “You really know how to work these?” She waved her hand to encompass the machines in the room.

  “Yes.” He glanced up at her.

  “How?” she asked. A little shaft of prickles rushed over her body as the memory washed through her mind. Theo’s memory. Sitting in front of a screen like this one—but much smaller than the ones that took up the walls. Very at home there.

  “I’ve been working on them for longer than you can imagine. I’m kind of a genius with computers and electronics.” The flicker of a smile returned to his lips and eyes. “My twin brother and I both are.”

  “There are two of you?” The horrified words slipped out before she realized it. Then she laughed a little at the delighted expression on his face. “You must have turned your mother’s hair white by the time you were ten.”

  “Somehow Lou doesn’t come across as reckless as people seem to think I am.”

  “You don’t think you’re reckless?” she asked incredulously.

  “I’m still alive aren’t I?” he replied. Then he raised his gaze and their eyes locked. “Thanks to you,” he added, his voice pitching lower.

  Her throat dried and all she could remember was being pulled up against his solid, very unchild-like body last night. She was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were alone. Again. And he was looking at her in a certain way.

  No more pity-kisses.

  “Last night was definitely not a pity-kiss,” he said. “Selena.”

  “Did I say that out loud?” she said, then clamped her mouth closed.

  “Yes,” he replied, that smile playing about his lips. He stood now, shoving the wheeled chair away behind him. He seemed taller than she remembered. And broader. And whatever annoyance he might have had about her disappearing back in Yellow Mountain seemed also to have evaporated. “I have to tell you,” Theo said, standing there in front of her, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  He shook his head, folding his arms over his torso, continuing conversationally—as if they were talking about the weather and he didn’t quite understand why it was raining when the sun had been shining all day. “I find I’m fascinated by you, about what you’re sneaking out for at night, what you’re wearing around your neck that you don’t want anyone to see…what it’s like being the Death Lady and holding the hands of people dying, and how you do it every day without fail.” He nodded, his eyes holding hers. “How you got to be so strong, and why you do what you do. And other things, like the fact that you don’t eat very much and that you like to run in the morning—Vonnie told me that—and how you both ended up here, with Frank. And where in the hell you got red toenail polish.”

  Selena realized her mouth had dropped open slightly—not enough that she was gape-jawed, but that she’d sort of relaxed in surprise. “Um,” she said, trying to tamp down the warmth that was flushing through her. She was all trembly all of a sudden and her stomach was all aflutter. Good grief.

  And then…He’s fricking serious. He really wants to know about me. Both delight and terror rushed through her.

  “And about Sam’s father, and whether he’s still around and why he isn’t,” Theo continued. “Whether it was your decision or his or what. And,” he stepped closer to her, “how I’m going to make it clear to you that I don’t give pity kisses. Not even to women who bring me back to
life.” His hands landed gently on her shoulders and she felt his shoe bump against her bare toes.

  “How many of them do you have?” she managed to say, realizing belatedly that her hands had risen and settled flat onto his broad, warm chest. Wow. Solid as a brick wall.

  “How many of what?”

  “Women who bring you back to life.”

  “Only one.” He started to lean in, then stopped and pulled back. Selena released the breath she’d been holding, startled out of the warmth he’d lulled her into. “Make that two.”

  “What?” she asked, her voice rising—partly in surprise and partly to hide her disappointment. “You’ve been brought back to life before?”

  His lips curved and one of his hands shifted to flick a heavy lock of hair off her shoulder, then slide along its length. “Well, technically, yes. When I was a baby, the umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck and I came out blue everywhere, limp as a wet noodle. Heart stopped and everything. There was a nurse who did CPR—she breathed inside my mouth—and brought me back to life.”

  “A nurse?”

  “But don’t worry,” he added quickly. “I don’t remember the incident at all…so for all intents and purposes,” he said, slipping his hand around the back of her neck, lifting her hair, cupping her skull, “you’re the only woman who brought me back to life. And this is most definitely not a pity kiss.”

  She met him halfway as his lips moved to add, “…at least on my end.”

  Selena’s laugh was smothered by his mouth. She closed her eyes as their lips met, softly at first and then hungrily. He held her head with strong fingers as the kiss turned deep and sleek. Beneath her own palms, the planes of his chest shifted and his heart bumped fiercely.

  He didn’t feel like a kid to her, not now, not with this demand and confidence, not with the solid muscle and strength against her. Her body had turned warm and liquid, awakening from a dormancy due to neglect. Selena stopped questioning, stopped resisting, and when his hands moved down along her back, following the line of her torso, she eased into him, molding her body into his.

  Why not? Why not enjoy this? It’s been too long.

  He’s so young!

  And he’ll be leaving any day now. No problem.

  He makes me laugh.

  Theo gave a soft little groan and shifted, pushing her back against something solid, holding her there so their bodies lined up, imprinting every curve and every rise into the other. If she had any lingering doubt about pity kisses, it was effectively erased at that point. His desire was blatant, and the gentle, insistent pressure as their hips ground together had her pressing just as hard back into him.

  “Jeeezz…uzz,” he muttered, disentangling their mouths and burying his face into the hair by her ear. “Selena….” He breathed roughly, nipping and sucking along the line of her neck so that she twitched and shuddered against him.

  She murmured her pleasure, sliding her hands under his shirt, feeling the flat slabs of his pecs and skimming over the tight nipples, aware of the faint trembling beneath her fingers, deep in his muscles. He was warm and sleek and her world had turned hot and bold…so much that she hardly realized it when he pulled back, tugging her with him.

  The next thing she knew, he pulled her onto his lap, her toes bumping the base of the chair as she straddled him. Theo grinned briefly up at her, but his mouth was tight and his eyes hot as he slipped his hands beneath her loose shirt. She resisted instinctively when he tried to lift it—no, no, not in the light!—and he seemed to get the message, instead moving to her spine.

  As her bra loosened and sagged, Selena arched toward him, barely aware of the hot sun streaming through the window on behind her and the way his hands moved around to cover her breasts. Ahhh. His thumbs were firm and his palms warm as he lifted, pressed, stroked.

  Now she had her hands on his shoulders for stability, her eyes closed, allowing the pleasure to grow and roll, unfurling from belly to chest to between her legs, where she pressed against him. His hair was warm and soft, thick beneath her fingers, and his shoulders were so wide and square.

  Theo moved beneath her as he bent and pulled the vee of her tunic to the side, finding one of her nipples and covering it with his warm, sleek mouth.

  Selena jolted at the spike of sensation, then gasped as it didn’t stop, didn’t relent…but became a long, slick tug, a sensual dance of tongue and lips sucking, swirling, stroking. The hot shaft of pleasure arced through her, from her belly down south. She shifted on his lap, her fingers digging into his shoulders, heat and pressure building and throbbing between them.

  Suddenly, he released her with a soft groan, leaving her nipple wet and throbbing, chafing back beneath her tunic. Pulling her up against him, his arms bundling her close, he slammed his mouth over hers once more. The kiss burned, deep and fierce, as his hands shifted down to her hips and jerked her close, into him, settling her legs wide against him. She felt his throbbing erection nestle between them, hard and waiting, she herself full and wet, the seams of their jeans meeting and intensifying the sensation.

  And then, once again, he was shifting her, and once again, she moved at his direction—hazy, full, aroused—her legs coming together, sliding to one side of him. Before she knew it, he’d jammed his fingers down beneath the loosened fly of her jeans, down beneath the hot cotton of her panties, and into the sleek warmth that pulsed there.

  They both groaned and sighed at the same time, and Selena’s eyes flew open when he first touched her. She nearly jolted off his lap, but he held her steady, safely, his fingers so long and easy, sliding and stroking where she was full and ready.

  Oh God… She held on to him, lifted her hips as her jeans opened wider, feeling the stream of hot sun blasting through the window over her head and shoulders. His fingers…a wide, determined plane, curling and and slipping, coaxing smoothly and evenly, as his own breath hitched and roughened against her ear.

  “Yes,” he whispered into her skin. “That’s…it.”

  As she released herself, sliding wholly, into the pleasure, it took a moment before the sound registered in the depths of her lust-fogged mind. But then, all of a sudden, she heard it.

  “Mom?”

  Chapter Five

  It took a moment before Theo heard it.

  “Mom?”

  And then another second before it registered.

  Selena, who had been a soft, sensual bundle in his arms stiffened, and her eyes flew open just as Theo realized the “mom” was the woman on his lap. The woman whose pants his hand was down, whose flushed face and swollen lips were a breath away from him, whose tight, unfettered nipples thrust through the light fabric of her shirt.

  Holy crap.

  He grabbed Selena’s arm to steady her wild escape as she scrambled off him, and managed to keep her from stumbling into a heap against the wall. His brain wasn’t functioning at optimal levels quite yet, his breathing still irregular, and his jeans were full of a massive hard-on that, only moments before, had been anticipating a happy ending. He stood and jammed his hands in his pockets to make the necessary adjustments for both comfort and obscurity.

  “Mom? Are you up here?”

  “Yes,” Selena called back. She was standing by the window, just done buttoning her jeans. Her voice was unbelievably calm and steady. For someone who’d been writhing and moaning on his lap only moments earlier, she sure looked in control. Hardly ruffled at all, except for the sheen of damp on her full lips, and hair that looked as if she’d just rolled out of bed. And…oh crap…the outline of one nipple poking damply through the thin tunic.

  Sam and one of his other friends—Tim, Tyler, Tom?—suddenly appeared, walking across the long room, and Theo gave a moment of thanks that the computer station had been tucked behind a corner and not immediately visible from the door.

  “Nana Vonnie wanted me to tell you there was lunch,” Sam said. He glanced around the room, but his attention settled on Theo and then Selena—who, thank God, had adjusted h
er tunic—and then back to Theo.

  Theo tried to ignore the suspicion in the teenager’s eyes—after all, he couldn’t have seen anything. But when the look of shock, followed by revulsion, blanched over Sam’s face, Theo realized the kid must have sensed something. He hoped like hell it wasn’t the musky smell of sex that clung to Theo’s fingers, permeating his consciousness, at least.

  “Thanks, honey,” Selena said, looking perfectly at ease, in spite of…crap…now her loose bra was clearly showing through the deep vee of her tunic. “I’m getting hungry too, but when I came up to let Theo know, we got talking about all the things in here.”

  “Yeah,” Sam replied, flat disbelief in his voice.

  He was a handsome kid, with dark blond hair and hazel eyes. Well over six feet, but still had lots of filling out to do. Probably sixteen or so, maybe seventeen. Just getting into manhood, still trying to figure out what to do with all those hormones he’d been dealing with for the last few years. And the last thing he probably wanted in his mind was the image of his mother screwing around with some guy who was not his father.

  Or with any guy.

  Theo managed a smile and attempted to divert their interest. “Those are pinball machines over there,” he said, gesturing to a row of the dusty machines. The Lord of the Rings version was one of his favorites, and just about one of the best pinball machines ever made. He’d enjoy it just as much as Sam and Tom—Tyler?—would. “I might be able to get one of them working again if you want.”

  “No,” Selena said sharply, just as interest lit Sam and Tyler’s—Tim’s?—face. “We don’t need to get involved with those things. Too dangerous.”

  Theo saw the disappointment on the boys’ faces. More dangerous than sneaking out at night alone?

  “Maybe he could at least look at the DVD player. The one that’s broken? He might be able to fix it?”

  “Maybe,” she said. Selena didn’t acknowledge Theo any further except to give him a warning glare as she started out of the room. The other boy whose name Theo was certain began with a T started after her, but Sam didn’t. He caught Theo’s eyes and positioned himself in front of him—not overtly threatening, but just enough that it was clear he meant to talk to him.