Love, Blood, and Sanctuary

by Brenda Murphy

  Izzy looked away from the ring. “We may be talking, but it’s not like you’re saying much.”

  Marun made a soft noise. She looked almost defeated. In the intimacy of the bedroom, closed in by thick curtains and the door leading to the rest of the house, her scent was everywhere. Izzy closed her eyes and sank back down into the bed, withdrawing a few inches to lessen the temptation to sink her fingers into the rich decadence of Marun’s thick hair and pull her down for the desperate kiss she’d been craving since her wife made her reappearance. Her ex-wife.

  “Can I tell you a story?” Marun asked softly.

  “Is that why you broke into my room, to tuck me in and read me a bedtime story?”

  “Not exactly, but you can consider this a bonus.” Marun’s eyes, moonlight bright, touched her face and the hint of skin at her throat that suddenly felt uncomfortably warm. She hitched the comforter higher until it hid everything below her nose. Marun smiled.

  “So, my stubborn wife, will you allow me…?”

  “Just go ahead.”

  Marun huffed a low laugh. Then she grew serious, her fingers fiddling with her phone that lay between them.

  “Too many years ago to count, a powerful woman had nine children,” she finally said.

  “All at the same time? Was she Mormon or on fertility drugs or something?”

  “Or something. Can I continue?”

  “Of course.” Izzy rolled her eyes. On her stomach, she curled up under the sheet and resettled her head on the pillow so she could properly see Marun’s face. “Don’t let me interrupt my own bedtime story.”

  Marun continued.

  “Anyway, this woman who was neither Catholic nor Mormon had nine children. They were all different, all with separate gifts proving they were from a powerful family.

  “They were all special, and they were all spoiled. Even more so because, although the mother wasn’t Mormon or Catholic, she really wasn’t supposed to have that many, at least not at once. So, they were special, and they were always treated like they were special. No one ever told them ‘no’ when they wanted anything.”

  “Including their mother?”

  “Including their mother,” Marun agreed. A fleeting expression passed over her face, something with hints of sadness in it. She dropped her gaze to Izzy and, in that way she always had of piercing through any layers Izzy ever tried to put up between them, she appeared to see everything.

  “Can I touch you?”

  Izzy twitched at the unexpected question. “I—”

  “Never mind, I can see you’re not ready. I apologize.”

  “Wait.” The covers fell away as Izzy sat up. “I’m not ready? What does that mean?”

  “It means I want you back.” Marun pressed her lips together, looking irritated with herself, and then shook her head. “Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to say, and—fuck—definitely not now when you don’t trust anything I do.”

  “I hope you’re not blaming me for that.”

  “I’m not. I know what I did.” Her voice dropped. “Time passes so quickly here. I don’t know why I allowed myself to forget that.”

  “Time is time, Marun. Three years for me has been three years for you. Don’t jerk me around.” The words started spilling fast and garbled from her mouth, so she took a quick breath, calmed herself. “Don’t play games with me,” she finished.

  Throughout Izzy’s outburst, Marun had held herself absolutely still, just watching her. When the last words faded away, Marun reached out and Izzy jerked back on instinct. Touching was dangerous. It had been three years, but she clearly remembered that much. Marun’s hand stopped, and she rested her palm on the sheets between them, just a breath away from Izzy’s.

  “Can I finish the story?”

  She was tempted to tell her “no.” To take her mother of nine spoiled kids story and get the hell out of her house. But that wouldn’t get her what she wanted. “As long as you don’t try to blow smoke up my ass, go ahead.”

  “As you might have guessed already, these children and their mother aren’t exactly ordinary.”

  “They sound like trust fund kids and a woman who needs to know that just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should.”

  A whisper of Marun’s normal laugh sounded in the room. “I’ll make sure to tell her that.”

  She cleared her throat.

  “The children were extraordinary,” Marun went on. “Because they weren’t supposed to exist and were treated like aberrations by people outside their family, they were very close. They loved one another fiercely, savagely even, and though there were nine of them, they didn’t want to share their siblings with anybody. They kept themselves and their siblings separate from the rest of the world, especially the human world.”

  “What world?” The question jumped from Izzy’s mouth although she didn’t give it permission to. Her hands clenched in the sheets and her pulse thrummed.

  “The human world.”

  “Okay. I thought that’s what you said but I wanted to make sure.”

  This was just a story.

  Yet, with each word Marun spoke, the hinges of a door long held closed were beginning to creak open. Izzy could feel it. And she was scared. Was this the door that had been closed between her and Marun all along?

  Izzy’s hands, tightly tangled in the sheets, shook. She curled in on herself.

  Marun kept talking.

  “These siblings were also jealous of each other. For many reasons, but mainly because the gifts they had inherited from their mother weren’t all the same. Some were jealous in the way that children were jealous of another’s toys, they wanted better than what they’d received. Others just wanted it all.”

  Marun’s low voice faded to nothing. Izzy didn’t move, only lay there curled with the loud thudding of her heart.

  The bedding beneath Marun’s hand dipped as she leaned just a bit closer, dark eyes with the sheen of stars seeking Izzy’s. “Are you listening?”

  “Yes.” Izzy’s throat felt scratchy.

  Marun wanted something. Izzy just wasn’t sure what. She hung there, a need pulsing from her in the darkness of the bedroom. It wasn’t about sex; Izzy knew very well what that need coming from her felt like. This was something else. Something more. She swallowed hard, blood rushing through her veins.

  Then Marun backed away.

  Izzy released a quiet breath of relief.

  “I have a point to this story,” Marun said. “I promise.”

  “Okay.”

  “One of these privileged nine wasn’t so sold on the idea of isolation. She’d been moving away from that for years. Her siblings had sex with humans but never loved them, never had children with them.”

  Sounded like they wanted to have sex with each other, Izzy thought but kept her mouth shut.

  “This sibling loved to wander in the human world and be among them for long periods of time. Once, during her wanderings, she met someone. A human she instantly wanted and, although she thought once she had the human, fucked her fill, she would get over her, she never did. Instead, she fell in love. So, she married her human.”

  Marun’s eyes flashed in the dim light.

  Every word Marun spoke felt like she was pulling that heavy and creaking door open. Slowly revealing something Izzy wasn’t sure she was ready to see. But Izzy couldn’t stop listening. Her heart knocked around in her chest. To keep herself safe, to keep that door closed for just a little while longer, she could pretend she was listening to an interesting story on one of those sci-fi podcasts Taylor loved and sometimes played in the car on their road trips.

  She could pretend Marun hadn’t just confessed to being the more she’d always suspected. Extraordinary. Not human. In love.

  “And did this being climb out of love as quickly as she stepped in it?” Izzy’s voice shook.

  “Don’t make it sound like that, Izzy. The love we have isn’t like a pile of abandoned dog shit on the sidewalk.”

  “I
know what’s a pile of shit around here, and the way I feel for you—felt I mean—isn’t it.” A blush threatened to catch her whole body on fire. “Anyway, and then what happened after that?”

  “The brothers and sisters noticed this relationship. They started watching their sister more closely, realized she hadn’t only been sleeping with a human on a regular basis, that they were actively building a life together. Which wasn’t done.”

  “Jealousy aside, why would they even care about you—or this woman—being with a human? It’s not like this human is going to pollute their gene pool. They do know two women can’t make a baby together without help, right?”

  The silence throbbed between them.

  The creaking door between Marun’s secrets and Izzy flew open.

  She couldn’t pretend anymore.

  Izzy sat up so fast her head spun. Her shoulders hit the headboard with an audible thump when she scooted back. “Marun?”

  Her ex licked the corner of her mouth, and Izzy had to look away before she found that flash of tongue unbearably sexy and offered to lick the rest of Marun’s lips for her. “Actually, we—they can.”

  Izzy’s mouth fell open. Then she closed it with a snap.

  A shivery sensation in her stomach made her swallow hard and clasp her trembling hands tightly in her lap. If this was true, they’d lost the chance for so much, all because Marun hadn’t been honest with her about who she was.

  Her hand drifted up to her chest where a sharp ache bloomed. She was right to worry. This open door had secrets, but it also had pain.

  “So, the—the sibs found out their sister was married to a human. And then what?”

  “They tried to kill her.”

  “Excuse me?” She couldn’t have heard right.

  “Well, first they tried to talk their sister into leaving her human. Then when that didn’t work, they tried to kill her.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking.” With a sick feeling in her stomach, Izzy recalled the dark SUV racing toward her. If Marun hadn’t been there…

  “I don’t have it in me to joke right now.” The faint light glided over Marun’s face, revealing its hardened lines. “I—she tried to stop them, but they just kept coming. And it wasn’t like she could kill them.”

  “Because they were her brothers and sisters?” Rosalind was a terrible sister, mean and narcissistic, always throwing her so-called successful life in Izzy’s face, but Izzy could never hurt her.

  “No, because they’re more or less unkillable.” The steel in her voice made it sound like she’d tried really hard to kill them.

  “And that’s why she left? To protect the human so her siblings would stop trying to kill her?”

  “I left to get help, to find my mother so she could force my brothers and sisters to leave you alone.” Marun drew a long breath and leaned closer so Izzy couldn’t miss it, her switch from storyteller to confessor. “She could put a stop to everything, but I can’t find her.”

  “In three whole years?”

  “According to your calendar, yes. For me, it’s only felt like a few days.” She frowned. “Maybe weeks.”

  This part had to be complete and utter bull.

  If Marun had the power she hinted at, the only reason she would disappear was because she wanted to.

  Before, Marun could’ve told Izzy the sky was green and she’d believe it without even looking up for herself. She’d been gullible then, head over heels, and out of her mind for Marun. She wasn’t that idiot anymore.

  “If all this is true, why are you telling me now?”

  “Because I never meant for us to be apart this long.”

  “So, what does that mean? You want to get back together?”

  “I never left you.”

  A scream throbbed in the back of Izzy’s throat, fighting to be set free. Three years, and this was the excuse she got? This bullshit story about murderous brothers and sisters and a mother who’d disappeared off the face of the earth?

  She drew in a breath to calm herself and only ended up with a lungful of Marun’s scent. It was too much. The intimacy of being in the same bed, the familiar warmth stirring in her belly by that low and gravelly voice, the dark seclusion of the bedroom. Not caring about her near-nakedness, Izzy shoved aside the covers and jumped out of bed. Making it across the room in no time flat, she snatched up her robe and quickly pulled it on while beating a hasty retreat to the rocking chair near the window.

  “Marun, you left me,” she croaked out. “You left and never once looked back.”

  “We’re going to have to disagree on that point,” Marun said softly.

  This time, Izzy let a scream free. It was short, primal, and loud. “God, you drive me fucking crazy!”

  “The feeling is not mutual. I’ve only ever wanted to love you and take care of you.”

  Maybe this was her chance. “Sign the building over to me then.”

  “No.”

  Blowing out a harsh sigh, Izzy sagged back into the chair. She yanked the edges of the robe over her knees. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

  “I won’t sign the building over to you. Selling it is the last thing I want. But I’ll help you with whatever money problems you have.”

  Izzy bit back another sigh. “For the last time, I don’t want your help! I just want things to go back to how they were.” It has been years now and she was simply tired. Tired of being miserable. Tired of waiting for the pain of missing Marun to disappear.

  “We want the same thing, love.”

  “No, we really don’t. If we did, you wouldn’t have told me that ridiculous story about other people who want me out of your life. You wanted me gone, just say that. The whole time we were in our play-marriage, you were the more grown-up one. Be that now. If I have a woman in my life, she needs to be a real partner, not someone with crazy excuses for not being with me.”

  Marun hissed in a slow breath. The sound of it was low in the bedroom, strange and nearly otherworldly because of the near-dark around them.

  “Those aren’t excuses.” She held up her hand when Izzy drew in a breath to speak. “I have crazy siblings and an absentee mother, that’s true. What’s also true is, if it came down to it, I’d die for you.”

  Izzy bit her lip until she tasted blood.

  That was all well and good but all she wanted was a partner who would tell the truth and live with her.

  The rocking chair creaked as she leaned forward. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth now?”

  “Because I am.”

  “No, it doesn’t work that way, Marun. Not anymore. You say you’re some demi-god or whatever. Prove it.” She didn’t want that kind of proof, though, not really. What she wanted, Marun couldn’t give her. Or maybe just wouldn’t.

  “I can’t.” In the space of one breath, Marun was kneeling on the floor in front of Izzy, the edible scent of her, of guavas and mangoes and papayas, drifting up from her skin. “Not without exposing you to dangerous people. If I use any of my power, my siblings will know where I am.”

  “That’s convenient, isn’t it?”

  “Hardly.” Marun’s mouth briefly twisted, and then she put a hand on Izzy’s knee, bared by the thin robe. “Please.”

  Izzy drew in a too-swift breath and inhaled more of Marun’s scent. The palm on her knee burned into her skin and sent heat skimming into her center. She missed her so much. “No—” But her own hands were already reaching out across the space separating them, grasping Marun’s arms and dragging her close while Izzy slid to the edge of the rocking chair.

  She couldn’t resist anymore.

  She didn’t want to.

  Their mouths touched, and electricity sparked between them, a sharp buzz of sensation that burned into Izzy’s lips. She gasped at the shock of feeling and pulled back. She met Marun’s eyes and saw the amazement there, the reflection of the same longing inside her. It hurt, that kiss, but she wanted it again.

  “More,” Izzy whimpered.


  With a rough sound, Marun gripped her shoulders, fingers sinking into her skin through the robe, and Izzy groaned into it. Opened her mouth for the slick press of her wife’s tongue against hers. Firm. Hungry. Warm. Izzy sighed and her body melted, and Marun was there to be her strength, the vessel she poured her passion into.

  It was like no time at all had passed since their last kiss, the familiar pleasure, the liquid heat swimming through her veins, the want settling between her thighs. Marun slid a firm hand up the back of Izzy’s neck, into her hair, and cupped her head. Safe. God, she felt so safe and protected and loved. She didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted wet salt.

  Marun drew back and their lips parted with a sensual, wet sound. “Oh, love. Please don’t cry. Everything will be all right. I promise.”

  Heart twisting, Izzy wrenched herself away. “No. You don’t get to make promises to me. Not again.”

  “Isabella, I didn’t—”

  The buzz of Izzy’s cell phone cut through Marun’s bullshit and Izzy rushed across the room to answer it. Taylor’s name glowed on the screen.

  She cleared her throat of any emotion before answering. “Hey, woman.”

  “Hey, yourself. What are you up to?”

  Izzy met Marun’s gaze. “Nothing much. Just at home sorting through some things.” When Marun frowned at her and stood up, Izzy turned her back and walked out of the bedroom. “It’s nothing that won’t wait.”

  “Good. You should take the night off and come out with me. There’s a new place downtown I want us to try.”

  It almost made Izzy cry to turn Taylor down, but she had to. In the old days when money wasn’t a problem, she wouldn’t have hesitated. Exploring a new restaurant or bar would’ve been the perfect thing to distract her from Marun and the rest of her troubles. But she couldn’t afford to take the night off from work.

  “You know I can’t, Taylor.”

  “Don’t worry about how much it costs, you know I got you.” Izzy winced at her friend’s offer. “And get that look off your face. This is nothing like Rosalind and her leeching ways.” Taylor paused. “Unless you have a gambling or coke habit I don’t know about.” That was where Izzy was supposed to laugh, but she just didn’t have it in her right then. Her sister’s bad life choices had never been funny.