Damn her, he thought as he watched his cum get washed down the drain. He felt dazed and sick and after washing his body, he went to his bed and lay down.
I want you Karyn, he thought weakly. I need you. I love you. Malcolm thought about all the things he loved about her. He loved her stubbornness, her softness. He loved her passion, her honesty. He loved how she gave of herself freely. He loved her whole spirit. He loved her.
Malcolm closed his eyes. Why didn’t she love him?
Karyn let her class go home early today. There was a big thunderstorm headed their way but she stayed behind to get some paperwork finished. She was focused on doing just that when Malcolm appeared.
"We need to talk, lalid."
She had been wondering when she would see him again. Since she threw him out of her house, she hadn't seen him anywhere these past few days and Karyn had been grateful. She didn't know how she would function by loving him, but never touching him again. Now, she steeled herself against his usually overwhelming presence and folded her arms.
"What do you want, Malcolm?"
Malcolm wanted to tell her he loved her. He wanted to pull her into his arms so he could kiss her as he had many times before. Didn't he have that right? She was his lalid after all.
And she knew what he wanted. He could tell she wanted it too. Even though her arms were folded, he could detect the light sweet scent of her juices at her core. He tested her and projected the feel of his hand against her pussy. She crossed her legs and scooted closer to her desk.
"Don't do that anymore," she told him. "I thought you wanted to talk."
"I do. But you still tempt me, lalid." It took great control for him to pull his thoughts back. "I never was this undisciplined before I met you."
"Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore. You can leave now."
"But I'm not going to, so stop what you're doing and listen to me-"
Malcolm reached behind her to turn off her computer screen and as he did so he saw the mark he had made on her neck. It should have been gone by now and probably would have been had he been able to stay with her and suck on it for her. The enzymes in his saliva would have helped it heal. He kissed it now and she flinched.
"I know it hurts now, Karyn. Let me do this for you. I will make it feel better." Here he was being selfish again, he thought, as he pressed his lips against her scented skin. This gave him an excuse to kiss her like he wanted.
Karyn stayed rigid underneath his mouth before he coaxed her into relaxing.
"I'm not evil, Karyn," he whispered as he rubbed his lips against her tender flesh. He opened his mouth, let his teeth extend, and bit her.
Karyn's breath caught in her chest as the sensation of him piercing her neck streaked naked throughout her body. She felt her limbs jump, but Malcolm held her body down in her seat with his hands. The tops of his thumbs caressed the underside of her breasts and his hands curved to palm the familiar weight as he made love to her neck with his mouth.
"This should be better in a day or two," he said when he finished. They both were breathing heavily. His hand slid down her abdomen to settle at the center of her lap. "I can make this better too."
Stupid me, Karyn thought. She wanted him to make it better. She was so aroused she thought if she didn't have him now she might actually die.
Stupid me. Stupid me, she thought. She should have left the room before he kissed her.
She took his hand and seriously thought about giving in to him, but she pushed it away from her so she could think.
"Eldi sianqeh issumar olel," she said.
"You're trying to use my own language against me, lalid?" asked Malcolm
"You're the one who put the words in my head, Malcolm."
"It's true. I did. But it couldn't have happened at all if you weren't so open to me."
"So everything is my fault."
"No, nothing's your fault," he said in frustration.
Malcolm leaned against her desk thinking how he could never do anything right. Karyn trusted him less now than when they first met.
When would he get it through his head? Talk first, then make love. Talk first, then make love. If he had learned it sooner he wouldn't have had any problems with Karyn, or Julia for that matter. He would've known Julia was for Marcus and he wouldn't have the blood of a whole town on his hands.
Malcolm looked in her eyes. "I told you about aleyksha and what it means to my people, Karyn."
"I know what you told me. I thought maybe it was all lies."
"I am not a liar," he said, "I just didn't tell you the whole truth. I didn't want you to be repulsed by me. I didn't want you to think me a monster because of a bunch of misguided human folklore. You are important to me, Karyn."
"How important can I be? You haven't even told me everything about yourself, have you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I know there's something more to this than you just being a vampire." Karyn studied him wondering what was wrong, what emotions were there. She could usually tell by his eyes but he had turned his face away. She didn't have his talent for looking inside another person's head and she felt helpless.
Malcolm was silent wondering if he could trust her enough to lay everything out in the open. She'd already pushed him away once and he was lucky to get this close to her again. He wouldn't be able to stand it if he lost her forever.
"Malcolm. I can't do this. Either talk to me or don't, but I cannot sleep with someone who won't be honest with me. Not again. Not when I love you."
He turned back to her. He heard the words. It was everything that he had been hoping for. But was it true?
Karyn was finished with most of her paperwork and stood up to leave when Malcolm grabbed her arm to stop her.
"Karyn, I love you, too."
Her heart stopped. Was it really true?
"Don't leave. I will explain everything."
CHAPTER TEN
The lights had gone out.
Luckily, Veronique was able to see in the dark but she remembered how it was when she had been small and had not yet developed that ability. She used to beg Malcolm to stay in her room, especially during wild storms like this, scared that the Invisible Ones would sneak into the house and get her. Malcolm would always cradle her in his arms until she fell asleep.
"It's strange how you never remember the good in someone until they're gone," Alistair said.
He was Malcolm's friend. A damning trait when he first showed up a month ago. How he ever managed to actually finagle his way into her home, she wasn't quite sure, because he annoyed her with his condescending ass.
Veronique had to admit that what Alistair said was true, though. She found herself missing Malcolm more and more as the days passed even though she knew he tried to kill Marcus, and despite the fact that he'd abandoned them. Her family was really dysfunctional right now, but she still wanted it back together.
Veronique knew where Malcolm was staying. Maybe she could go talk to him and convince him to come back. She could convince him to leave his salesh and stay with his real family.
"She's his lalid, not his salesh," said Alistair noticing her thoughts. "And everything's fine for the moment, Ronnie. Leave the man alone and give him a chance to be happy with her."
"What are you? Her agent?" Veronique got up from her chair to go into the kitchen. "He can't be happy with her. None of us will ever be happy around humans."
"My mother was happy with a human. So was your father."
"My parents' relationship was only about sex."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But are you telling me that if she was Vamfir you still wouldn't have a problem with her?" he asked.
"Absolutely," she replied.
Alistair chuckled knowing outright she was lying to him. She didn't like how he was able to dig into her mind with ease while she could barely scratch the surface of what he was thinking. Her annoyance level grew another thirty percent.
She started rummaging through the kitchen drawe
rs and wishing she could get him to leave.
"You're making too much noise, Ronnie."
She paused for a moment, about to snap. The noise continued.
"You're going to disturb Marcus."
"Dammit! I'm not a child, Alistair. I know how to take care of my own brother."
Somehow he had made his way over to her without her noticing and reached around her waist to slam the drawer.
"You're right. You are not a child. You're behaving like an overgrown baby."
"I am not," she said indignantly. She turned. He was so close she nearly bumped into him.
"Are too," he said mimicking her voice.
He always played with her. Mocked her. Made her feel like she was only ten-years-old. And just who was he to do that to her? He wasn't a part of her family. Her only family was Marcus and Malcolm. He was just...well, he was just Alistair.
Veronique scooted past him and went across the kitchen. "Don't you have something better to do than to bother me?"
He seemed to consider that. "At the moment, no. Besides, I like bothering you. It's fun." He watched her movements in confusion. "What in the world are you trying to find anyway?" he asked.
"I need a flashlight," she mumbled going to another part of the kitchen. She stooped down to look in some of the lower cabinets by the stove.
"Ahhh," he replied seeming to understand. She heard him pick up something. "Here it is."
Veronique looked over at him and grumbled inside, aggravated that he was able to find the stupid thing before her. Fucking show-off, she thought.
"Give it to me. I need it."
"For what?"
"To check on my brother."
"Ask nicely," he teased.
A low growl came from her throat.
"Okay, okay. I'll give it to you," Alistair said bringing the flashlight over to her. He put it in her hand but she was shaking. Her nerves were just so on edge right now.
"Listen, Ronnie. He's okay down there," Alistair said becoming more serious. He spoke softly realizing that he shouldn't have teased her. She was a wreck. He rubbed her shoulders trying to get her to calm down. "I just gave him another injection an hour ago. He's asleep."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She let it out with a sigh. She should relax, she thought. Marcus was sedated. Everything was okay. The storm just made her edgy. That's all.
She opened her eyes again to find Alistair watching her way too closely, looking at her mouth. Did she have crumbs there or something? He was making her uncomfortable and reflexively she licked her lips. However, his head cocked slightly to the side as though what she did was the most interesting thing in the world, instead of looking away like she thought he would do.
His mood had changed. Weird, but if she didn't know better, she would say he wanted to kiss her. That was impossible because Alistair didn't like her, and she certainly couldn't stand him.
Yet, there was a slight pull in the air as though a magnet had been placed between them. He leaned closer to her. He seemed to be judging her reaction as he moved even closer. He finally bent his head and touched his lips to hers.
Veronique's eyes widened in disbelief at the slight contact of skin before he pressed his mouth fully against hers. She opened her mouth intending to tell him to cut it out but Alistair used the opportunity to enter her mouth with his tongue, coaxing her until he drew hers out to meet his.
Veronique found herself holding on to the back of his neck, keeping his head close so she could continue to kiss him. His hands delved into the waistband of her shorts and slipped underneath the elastic of her underwear to curve against the skin of her buttocks. She gasped at the heat of his touch.
There was no reason why he should be pushing her shorts down, gathering more and more of her flesh for his hands to hold and squeeze and explore. He was making her feel bizarre. Like if he could just get her freaking shorts off everything would really be all right. The feeling was insanely seductive for her. She never knew she would like feeling this way.
But then, she heard something.
Not the singing of a choir. Not the sound of trumpets. It was more like painful moaning. It irritated her ears and it came from the basement.
And then she heard movement.
"Alistair, get up."
When had he had knelt in front of her? He was still working her shorts down while he simultaneously licked the exposed button of her navel. He paid her no mind as he kissed his way to the top of her groin where smooth skin disappeared and kinky curls of hair began.
Stop, Alistair! Listen.
It worked. Dazed, he came out of whatever spell he'd been under to look at her with confusion as it dawned on him what she had said.
What's Marcus doing? she asked him.
Alistair turned around to listen while she pulled her shorts back up. He stood up and took the flashlight from her.
"I can handle it, Alistair. He's..."
"Yes, yes, I know. He's your brother," he said in exasperation. "And a motherfucking cock-blocker," he said beneath his breath. He turned to her. "He's too much for you to deal with and he's not in his right mind. You need me to handle him."
There he was treating her like a kid again. He wasn't doing that a minute ago.
"I don't need your help with him," she protested. "This is my house. I don't even need you here."
"Yes, you do. You can't do everything by yourself, Ronnie."
"The hell I-"
"I won't let you do this by yourself! He's too dangerous and you'll get hurt."
And now she was being yelled at. First by Malcolm. Now by Alistair.
Annoyance levels now shooting way over the charts here, she considered how she would punish them both. Alistair mostly because he shouldn't have kissed her, not if he were going to keep treating her this way. The whole thing was a huge mistake and she didn't want to open up a Pandora's box worth of troubles with him. She had her own troubles to deal with.
Then they both heard a crash.
Forgetting what she felt for the moment, she headed with Alistair towards the basement door. As quickly as she could, she got the locks open and Alistair rushed past her down the steps with flashlight in hand. Night vision or not, the windows with their special screen made it next to impossible for anyone to see. But they didn't need a flashlight at all.
"Holy shit!" said Alistair.
There was plenty of light now. The second door in the basement was now gone.
"The bastard kicked the door down," he said in amazement as he went over to examine it.
Veronique was stunned. Marcus couldn't possibly be that strong, she thought. The door had been made of steel, but it now lay on the ground with a huge dent right below the knob. The doorframe was pushed outward out of position and broken from the force of his blow.
"This can't be fixed Ronnie. You'll have to get a new one."
"Never mind that," she replied. "Where is he?"
Veronique pushed past him into the rain, trying to sense where Marcus had gone. It hadn't been a long time really, but she couldn't see him anywhere.
He had disappeared again.
"You know that dream we had together," Malcolm said. "The one were we were making love in the woods and then that huge tree fell over."
Karyn nodded. She remembered that dream. It was so unlike the others they shared. The air felt angry somehow. The wind blew harsh. And the lighting was just evil somehow.
Before the dream, she had wanted to be with Malcolm. Afterwards, she had been unsure and wondered if it was a warning to her. He hadn't seemed exactly like himself.
"That place came from one of my memories," he continued. "It was part of some land I owned a long time ago."
"Where was it?" she asked quietly.
"It was in a little place called Love."
He thought it would be a good place for him to settle down. An odd little multiracial town built on ideals like equality and opportunity for everybody. It should've been the perfect place for a
vampire to blend in.
"What? You're going to tell all those people that you're not human. Good luck," Oleqehiis said to him in disbelief.
His father thought he was crazy, but Malcolm saved some money and bought a ranch there on the outskirts of the town. He wasn't planning to tell anyone he wasn't human. He wasn't that dumb. All he really wanted was to do something exciting like raise horses, feel normal for a change, and be happy until he died.
"So what happened there?"
"I need to buy a horse, sir," she had said to him. He had just come from the stables showing a younger Alistair how to care for Old Paint and there was a woman waiting outside.
"Julia Lovegood happened."
She would have been his wife, but she was Marcus' lalid.
Their meeting seemed to be a thing of fate, as well, for just like Karyn he had dreams about her. He was stunned to find her in person. But then again, most people were stunned by Julia. Her beauty borderlined on perfect. She could have been a model in today's world.
He didn't find out until much later that those dreams he had were actually his brother's. Lunor mis-aleyksha it was called, or quite simply, destiny's shadow. The link to his brother's dreams caused him to misinterpret who those dreams were meant for. It confused his reality. There had been a mistake.
Earlier in their relationship, when Karyn was avoiding him, he briefly wondered if he was as wrong about her as he was Julia. But their dreams had been different. More tactile. Solid. Lucid. He had been the participant, not an observer. He could make things happen. They didn't happen to him.
He was too young before and didn't know enough. Nevertheless, he courted Julia and they were going to get married. They might have even been happy together. Then Marcus showed up and they way he and Julia interacted with each other showed Malcolm the huge slip-up that had been made, but he wasn't willing to admit it. Back then, he had a hidden jealousy of Marcus which overrode his good judgment and he held on to the relationship like an alligator with steel teeth.
"You didn't love her then?" Karyn asked him.
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