Love, Blood, and Sanctuary

by Brenda Murphy

  Yael hesitated and then nodded. “I am human. Does that matter to you?”

  “Not really. But if you were something else…” Hadassah shrugged. “I’d just want to know.”

  Yael took Hadassah’s hand and placed it on her breast. “Do I feel human?”

  “Very much so.”

  They kissed. Hadassah pulled Yael a little closer to nuzzle her neck and throat. Her tongue swept over Yael’s skin before she pulled away.

  “To answer your question, then, every keycard is coded to include the user’s information. It registers time of entry, the room they choose, how long they stay. The rooms themselves record physical data of the people using them. The security staff are on hand at all times to make sure that everything is kept safe. But I have to ask, Yael…” It was Hadassah’s turn to hesitate. “What made you think that guests of this hotel might be inclined to hurt each other?”

  “A place designed for anonymity seems well-suited for those who wish to act in ways they don’t wish to be discovered,” Yael said simply.

  “Are you doing something you don’t wish to be discovered?” Hadassah asked quietly.

  In response, Yael leaned to kiss her again, but this time kept her lips just barely brushing. “I don’t feel shame, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Was it? Sort of. Hadassah let her body rest against Yael’s lean form. “Good. I don’t want you be ashamed of being here with me.”

  Yael’s hand slipped between them to press against Hadassah’s breast. Her thumb moved slowly over the fabric of her soft T-shirt until her nipple peaked. Then she pinched it gently. Hadassah moaned.

  Yael pinched harder. “You like this.”

  “Yes.”

  Yael’s other hand drifted again to the base of Hadassah’s skull. Her fingers dug into the tender flesh and then tangled in Hadassah’s hair. They tugged her head backward, breaking the kiss. Hadassah licked her lips, taking in a breath that was not quite a gasp.

  “I can hurt you, if that’s what you like,” Yael said. “But I don’t want to damage you.”

  Hadassah shivered. “I like it a little rough. Nothing hardcore. We can use a safe word if you want, but I don’t even really like it that hard. Kink lite, you might say.”

  “Kink…” Yael murmured the word against Hadassah’s throat. The warm wetness of her tongue stroked along the sensitive flesh.

  Hadassah shuddered. Her nipples tightened. Her clit throbbed, and when she shifted her weight, she could feel the answering pull of desire in her pussy. Slickness gathered inside her, along with the heat of need. At the press of Yael’s teeth, Hadassah cried out, tensing, half-expecting to feel the pierce of fangs although Yael had said she wasn’t a vampire.

  The bed in this room, as in all the rooms, was king-sized. Dressed in fresh white linens. Yael walked Hadassah backward toward it and pushed her gently down, her hand still behind Hadassah’s neck in support. They ended up together on the bed, legs intertwined. Bodies moving.

  Yael kissed her mouth, forcing open Hadassah’s lips with her tongue and stroking it deeply inside. Their teeth clashed. Yael thrust a thigh between Hadassah’s own to spread her legs. Her hands and mouth moved over Hadassah’s body, swiftly, without faltering. One cupped her breast. One pushed up the tiered fabric of her lightweight skirt. Yael pushed her hand between Hadassah’s legs, her fingers finding the silky panties covering her bare mound.

  “You’re wet. I can feel it through your panties.” Yael breathed this into Hadassah’s ear.

  Her fingers slid beyond the leg band of the panties and pushed inside Hadassah’s pussy without warning. Two fingers, her thumb rubbing Hadassah’s clit. Yael’s hand moved and then withdrew. She pushed up onto her knees to lick her fingers.

  “You are delicious,” she said.

  “Take off your clothes.” Hadassah pushed up on her elbow to gesture at Yael’s tight black T-shirt and the matching black-and-gray patterned leggings.

  Yael moved with feral grace to stand at the edge of the bed. She pulled off the shirt and then shucked out of the leggings. She wore nothing beneath, no bra or panties. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed, but lush and thick, so dark it hinted at shades of blue. Tufts of hair beneath her arms matched. She stood with her legs apart, hands on her hips. The peaches of her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing, and her lips parted to allow her tongue to snake out, licking the bottom one.

  “You’re gorgeous,” Hadassah said. “I thought it the first moment I saw you.”

  Yael turned her face for a moment, her eyes closing. “I am…only what I am.”

  “Come here.”

  She moved with lithe grace, pressing first a knee to the bed, dipping it. Her other knee pressed the inside of Hadassah’s thigh. Yael’s skin was warm. Smooth. She covered Hadassah’s body with her own. Her lips found the pulse at the base of Hadassah’s throat.

  At the press of Yael’s teeth again, Hadassah hissed out a breath, arching beneath Yael’s touch. She traced the line of Yael’s spine with her fingertips, lingering at the indentations above the swell of her buttocks before she cupped them. Squeezing.

  “Your body…” She sighed.

  “It functions,” Yael answered against her neck.

  Her mouth moved lower, over the swell of Hadassah’s breasts. She took a nipple between her lips, tugging, sucking, and Hadassah arched again at the pleasure of it. When Yael moved down her body toward her center, though, Hadassah hesitated.

  Yael must have sensed it because she stopped with her lips poised over Hadassah’s clit. The soft puff of her breath eased over the sensitized flesh. “No?”

  “Yes,” Hadassah said. “But I want to touch you too. Taste you.”

  In reply, Yael gave Hadassah a long, slow lick. “Later.”

  She wasn’t going to argue too much with that—sexual pleasure eased the aftereffects of the hemomancy, and a good hard orgasm was exactly what Hadassah needed. She wasn’t trying to be selfish about it, but if Yael was willing to give without receiving, at least for now…

  “Oh…oh, fuck. Yes. That. Right there.” Hadassah’s hips rocked. Her fingers found the thick sleek darkness of Yael’s hair and dug in.

  Her orgasm rose fast—it usually did after a day of client sessions, but this was different. Stronger. Vaster. When Yael slipped two fingers inside her, Hadassah writhed, bucking. She lost herself in the rising waves of pleasure that racked her entire body. Her toes curled. She cried out, first a low series of moans and then a louder, vibrant gasp as she finally tipped over the edge.

  Another rush of climax ran through her, softer and somehow lighter than the first, and it took her by surprise. Panting, she relaxed into the bed, her eyes closed, drowsy and sated. A few seconds passed before she opened her eyes. Yael was sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Hadassah pushed up on her elbow and reached for her. “That was intense. Fast.”

  “You were ready for the pleasure. That’s why you approached me, isn’t it? Because you needed release.”

  There it was again, that distinct way of speaking. An accent Hadassah could not name, or maybe not an accent but a way of phrasing. Word choices. Something formal, almost old-fashioned.

  “Do you do this a lot?” Hadassah asked.

  “Fuck?”

  Hadassah’s breath hissed out of her with a soft chuckle. “Fuck strangers you meet in a bar, I mean.”

  “This is the first time for me. You do this often.”

  “I do.” Hadassah studied Yael’s neutral expression. Implacable, she thought. That was a good word for how Yael looked. And intriguing.

  Yael stretched and stalked to the bathroom without another word. Hadassah blinked and sat up. She heard the shower running and, after a moment, followed.

  Yael stood beneath the spray, her head down so the water could pound over the back of her neck. She did not look up when Hadassah slid open the glass door. Steam immediately wreathed out, swirling into eddies.

  “Are you all right?” Hadassah a
sked.

  Yael turned her head. Water sluiced over her sharp profile and dripped in rivulets off her nose and chin. Her tongue slipped out to catch some of it. Her throat worked as she swallowed.

  “Yes. This is glorious.”

  Hadassah had taken many short-term lovers over the years, many she’d been with only once. There’d been a few mistakes. Some regrets, but only a few. She didn’t want this to be one of them.

  “I could join you,” Hadassah offered. “Scrub your back? Or your front.”

  Yael twisted the faucet to turn off the water. Hadassah handed her a towel as she stepped out. She dried her face quickly. Then her body.

  “I need to go,” she said and handed the damp towel to Hadassah.

  She pushed past her and into the bedroom while Hadassah stood, stunned and silent. After another half a minute, Hadassah heard the door open. Shut.

  “Wow,” Hadassah whispered. “She really just left.”

  Chapter Five

  Yael woke from a fevered dream with the sheets tangled roughly around her ankles. Her heart pounded, and she pressed her palm to her chest, marveling at how this body worked. She had slept, even dreamed, all while her heart beat. Her lungs drew in air. And now her stomach complained with emptiness. She would need food.

  Naked, she got out of bed and went to the small kitchen. The motel room was a far cry from the sleek elegance of the room Hadassah had taken her to. The sagging bed had left this body aching and sore. The shower had trickled warmish water that went cool minutes after she got under the spray. Insects scuttled out of sight when she turned on the lights. Still, it was the only place she’d been able to find that would accept the meager amount of cash she’d found in this body’s wallet, and that was already gone. She had no idea what she’d do at the end of the week. In this body, she could not access her demonic glamour, could not manipulate or control humans the way she’d been able to before.

  She was, as she’d assured Hadassah…human.

  She hadn’t planned this. Called forth from the demon realm, Yael had started her life of service to the witch without question, at least until that life had become insufferable. The witch had demanded Yael’s complete obedience and forced her to harm others instead of simply protecting and defending the witch against harm. The end had come when the witch ordered Yael to kill a young woman who’d insulted her somehow.

  And, taking the opportunity for escape, Yael had taken the young woman’s body.

  Once the soul left the vessel it was useless for anything but rot, but Yael didn’t have to be human to understand the severity of what she’d done. Inserting herself inside this suit of bone and flesh and sinew had been wrong. It hadn’t been her right to take it, but she’d done what she needed to so she could free herself.

  She would do whatever it took to keep herself that way.

  Get a job, Yael thought as she rummaged in the refrigerator for a container of leftover fast food. If she could. Humans worked for money so they could buy items, but how could Yael possibly convince someone to hire her? She had no further information about this vessel, so she couldn’t really pass herself off as the woman this body had been. She had no skills she could use.

  She could not stay in this vessel forever. At a maximum, she could only inhabit it for the length of time it had been allotted on this plane. And after that…what? Would she revert to her own form, be returned to the demon realm? Would she perhaps simply cease to exist? Yael didn’t know.

  For now, she would have to satisfy her hungers. First, with food. And later, with sex.

  “Hadassah,” Yael said aloud.

  The hemomancer had approached Yael with purpose, unashamed. The smell of Hadassah’s woman’s need had been evident, and Yael had been made, after all, to serve. The sex had been different with her, and not only because of Yael’s vessel. There had been more to it. A…kindness, she thought it would be called. Consideration. They had used each other, but it had not felt like being used.

  Demons experienced fear. Anger. Lust. Greed. Hate. Demons were loyal only when bound to be. They did not experience human emotions…but Yael inhabited a human body now.

  Yael shook away the thoughts of Hadassah. Her body needed sustenance, and this cold meat patty, its cheese congealed amongst limp lettuce and mealy tomatoes, was not going to sate her. As a demon, Yael had not needed to eat, but nor had she known the joy of food. Hunger, yes, but never satiation. It was inconvenient to be restricted by this vessel’s limitations, but there was much to relish about it too. Unfortunately, the meal that had been sufficient while warm was barely suitable now the day after its purchase.

  Hadassah had bought her food and beverage before taking Yael to that clean room with the glorious shower. All her needs had been met. Food. Sex. Cleanliness. Yael paced the interior of the hotel room for a bit, restless and unfulfilled.

  She had no purpose.

  She had only need.

  From the table, her phone buzzed with a text that she ignored. There’d been many over the past couple of weeks. Also phone calls. The previous owner of the phone had been picked up off the street, her need for drugs greater than her need to preserve her personal safety. It was likely no surprise to her friends or family that she was lax in answering her phone. It would have been better to get rid of it entirely, but Yael needed the device until she could replace it, just as she’d continued using the woman’s credit card, knowing at some point it would cease to function.

  She tried to ignore the knock on the door to this shabby, bare motel room, but whoever was outside refused to go away. Yael opened it. The manager of the motel peered inside and gave her a suspicious glare.

  “I’ve paid for two more nights,” she said.

  “No drugs in here, you hear me? No ‘guests,’ either, of the paying sort, I mean. Other than you.” He used his fingers to make curves in the air, emphasizing the word.

  Ah, he thought she was a prostitute. This vessel might have been, but Yael was not yet. “I’m alone in here.”

  “Keep it that way. And if you want to stay longer than ten in the morning, you gotta pay for another night.” He gave her another looking-over and then a leer. “I mean, I could be persuaded to barter…”

  “Get out.” Yael didn’t push him, not certain what he’d do in retaliation if she tried.

  For an uneasy minute she was afraid he would resist. Maybe even push his way inside. Her fingers curled into her palms, reminding her that in this body, she had no talons to use in defense. She was still strong, stronger than the woman had been when she was alive, but that didn’t mean Yael wanted to indulge in violence.

  To her relief, the manager stepped back and away. Yael closed the door behind him and leaned against it with her eyes closed. She took a few deep breaths, in and out, while she thought hard about what she needed to do next.

  One thing at a time, she told herself. Start with the most important. Find work.

  That turned out to be easier than she’d imagined. The motel was rundown and seedy, but the landscaping belonging to the office complexes flanking it on either side was the opposite. Lush, green grass. Bursts of vibrant, seasonal color. Rich, dark mulch and decorative trees. The crews tending to the areas were there every other day, too, leaf blowing or replanting or pruning or weeding.

  Yael talked with the head of the crew. It took only a few minutes of conversation for him to hire her. The landscaping company didn’t care that she didn’t have a social security number. They hadn’t even asked for one. They’d simply asked her if she could carry a fifty-pound bag of river gravel, which she could do with almost no effort, even with this body’s weaker limbs. They put her to work right away. More importantly, they promised her work, as much as she could handle, for the rest of the month.

  By midafternoon, she was worn out but had some cash in her pocket, and she was finally ready to head back to Sanctuary. Would Hadassah be there? Would she provide even more of a feeling of shelter, the way she’d done the night they’d spent toget
her?

  More importantly, would she be able to help Yael figure out what path to pursue for her future?

  There was only one way to find out.

  Chapter Six

  “Wait, wait, hold on. You can’t just use like, a pinprick thing? A little jab?” The woman in the blue suit yanked her hand out of Hadassah’s and recoiled in her chair.

  Hadassah pressed her lips together for a second before answering. She’d woken this morning with a headache and an unsettled feeling low in the base of her gut. It had been a little over a week since she’d slept with Yael, but for some reason, thoughts of her had been poking at her all day. Hadassah was not in the mood to deal with someone else’s bad attitude.

  “I mean,” the client continued, “how much could you possibly need?”

  “You want the answers to your questions? I need less than a gallon but more than a drop.” Hadassah gestured at the small plastic bowl on the table between them. “You came to me because you wanted something. It’s not free.”

  “Hell no, it’s not free, I’m paying you!”

  “What you want requires more than money,” Hadassah told her. “If you’re not willing to pay the price…”

  “No. I’m willing. I just hate the sight of blood.” The client offered her hand again, dramatically closing her eyes and turning her head.

  Hadassah gripped the woman’s wrist to keep her from pulling away. With her other hand, she lifted the disposable scalpel. It was nothing like the beautiful, engraved knives she had in her personal collection, but it sliced, clean and neat, the edge so sharp Hadassah knew there would be almost no pain. At least not the physical kind.

  One quick slice. Blood jetted into the bowl, spattering the sides and collecting in the bottom. Thirty seconds passed, and Hadassah pressed sterile gauze to the wound with efficient movements, wrapping the client’s hand quickly before she turned her attention to the crimson fluid in the bowl.

  “What do you see?” the client demanded.

  Hadassah shook her head, gaze fixed on the blood. “It’s not like reading tea leaves. Be patient.”