by Noir, Mila
I wanted to feel surprised or shocked at my fantasizing about an undead stranger, but I just…didn’t. All the fear, doubt, and adrenaline was finally finding a better outlet. And that outlet was some fierce sexual urges. I wanted him. It was probably stupid and certainly dangerous, but I did. I wanted to feel something other than terrified and angry.
I didn’t move, just sat with these new feelings. I’ve never been good with sexy times, let alone romance, so I had no idea how to even approach it. Or if he’d be interested. There was no way Dimitri was hard up for partners, sexual or otherwise. And maybe he wasn’t even into ladies.
“This isn’t how I wanted today to go. I was hoping for a more…intimate scenario,” he said suddenly.
“Oh?”
“I was going to take you somewhere with really good food, then convince you to take a chance on a handsome, sophisticated stranger. And spend the night.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
“But I’ll have to settle for whisking you away to Paris instead.” He sighed and sat back as though Paris was the most disappointing city one could imagine.
“We’re going to Paris? How? Won’t they be checking the airport?” I held my bag tighter, mind whirling. Paris? The city I’d always wanted to see? Not really the way I wanted to see it, but still. Paris!
“I have a plane,” he said, shrugging. I guess to some people having your own plane is no big deal.
“Your own plane? That must be…handy.”
It took about an hour to reach a small airfield outside the city. A sleek, small plane sat on the runway, with a small crew clearly getting it ready. I got out of the car and shivered. For a second I thought about just running towards the dark woods that edged the field. But then I thought about the toothy ghoul in the window and decided, okay, Paris it is.
Inside the plane was ridiculous. I was used to overstuffed coach, being wedged between other passengers with my back and legs cramping up and a seemingly never-ending line to the bathroom. This plane had plush, leathery seats that reclined, large tables, and plenty of legroom. A young man was stocking a small fridge and smiled congenially as we came in. Then he faded away.
I sat down and looked around some more. Golden wood paneling adorned the interior. The light was soft and the windows were definitely tinted, possibly to keep out UV rays. Dimitri sat down and put his feet up, nonchalantly pouring a glass of scotch into a pretty crystal glass.
“We’ll be taking off in five minutes. Please have a seat and enjoy your flight,” the disembodied voice of the pilot gently instructed. I put my bag down and looked at my hands. I’d be holding it so long there were red marks in the skin.
I braced myself for takeoff, but it was smooth. I still had that strange, nearly weightless feeling for a moment. And then we were airborne.
“How long is the flight?” I asked, realizing I’d have to be the one to fill the silence.
“About three hours. We’ll land outside the city, near one of my houses.” He was reading a book I couldn’t make out.
“One of your houses. Of course.” My voice was dull sounding, tired.
“Then we’ll go to my flat in the city. Better to be where a lot of people are. And then we can figure this all out. The council will—”
“If it’s okay with you, I think I’d like to rest while we fly,” I interrupted. I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore and I didn’t care about councils or anything else. I just wanted to sleep somewhere safe.
Which, yeah, is weird when you consider I was thousands of miles above the earth with a vampire next to me. But I felt safer there than I had in a while. Hostel living hadn’t been without its worries.
“Of course,” he said, eyeing me.
“You probably sleep during the day,” I murmured, settling down, pulling my sweater around me.
“I mostly read.” He smiled.
And then I was drifting, miles above the earth, flying towards my dream city, pursued by monsters, and sleeping near one.
When I woke up I was covered in a warm, fleecy blanket. We were still flying and I was completely disoriented for a moment. The lights had been dimmed to a warm purple glow, and while I was still tired, I felt more clear in the head than I had since before the night in the club. Maybe in weeks.
I looked over and saw Dimitri looking out a window, the same book in his hand. It didn’t look as though he’d gotten very far in it.
“We’re nearly there,” he said, turning to me with a smile.
“I hope I didn’t snore.” I took my hair down and started to untangle it, shaking out my bangs a little and hoping it wasn’t too bird’s-nest-y.
“No snoring. Considerable drool, but no snoring.” He smiled and I laughed. My first real one since in what felt like forever.
The descent was as smooth as the takeoff and, in spite of myself, I was really excited. I mean, I was going to see Paris. The museums, the Eiffel Tower, the food. From the plane window I could see a cluster of lights in the near distance. I imagined everyone was happy and drinking wine and being decidedly French.
“What’s it like?” I asked, touching the glass.
“What, Paris?” Dimitri came over and sat across from me.
“Of course, Paris. What else?” I said. Then remembered as he quirked a brow.
“Well, it’s very old. And there are a lot of buildings. Tourists kind of get in the way a lot now. It also doesn’t smell so great in the summer,” Dimitri said. I frowned.
“Still, the wine is still excellent and the food culture is amazing. Not that I eat much.” He looked at me, brow still raised.
“Ah. Well, since I’ll be a tourist, I’d like to do some touristy things. I can still go out during the day, right? You…people can’t take sunlight, right? Or is that just the movies?” I wrapped my hair back up and pinned it.
“No, that one is true. Unfortunately,” he said, twisting his glass in his long tapered hand.
“What about stakes, fire, mirrors, that stuff?” I asked, forgetting about Paris for a minute. I was genuinely curious.
“Well, like most things, if you stick a big piece of wood through our hearts it’ll mess us up. It’s harder to drive something through the breastbone than you might think, but it’ll end us. Same thing with beheadings, obviously. Nothing can really manage to stay alive headless.” He leaned forward, and I stared into blue-green eyes that twinkled.
“The mirror thing is complete bullshit. We’re undead, not invisible. Fire will hurt a lot, but as long as it gets put out, we’ll live and heal eventually. And before you ask, crosses only have an effect on vampires who believe in them. I’m an atheist, so I think they’re rather pretty, but that’s it.”
“Fascinating. And can you eat anything but blood? I can see you can drink other things.” I waved at his glass. The academic in me was legitimately interested. It helped make it seem less scary.
“Yes, although it doesn’t really taste the way food did when I was alive. So I often don’t bother. Unless it’s spicy.”
We stopped and I looked out at what could only be described as a castle, old and sprawling, with underlights making it glow softly in the night. I rubbed my eyes.
“Your place outside Paris is a castle,” I said.
“Well, yeah. I mean, there’s really no point in being an ancient vampire if you don’t indulge in some clichés now and then.” He grinned at me and stood. Then he held out his hand.
“Come on, Emma. Let’s have some fun.”
I was inclined to agree.
Inside, the castle was less Byzantine or medieval, more vintage eclectic with a slightly gothic flair. And not architectural gothic—more what you’d expect from an Anne Rice novel or Nosferatu. Mostly it was in the carved chairs and the prevalence of velvet lounges. There were also a lot of stern portraits and arched mirrors.
“It’s very…homey,” I ventured, looking at furniture that didn’t look like anyone had ever sat on it.
“Thanks. It’s been in the family for…a long
time.” Dimitri was leading me by the arm on a tour. It felt weirdly formal but also comfortable. Up close I could smell him again, the pleasant warmth of his skin. I kept thinking he should have been cold, but if anything he felt mildly feverish.
“Would you like something to eat?” Until he said it, I didn’t realize I was starving. I nodded, stomach growling.
I expected to be led into some huge dining room with an appropriately long table we’d have to shout down. Instead, Dimitri took me through some dusty back halls and unused rooms, to the kitchen.
The room was warm, spices and herbs hung drying near a marble counter. The air smelled sweetly of sage and rosemary. A small table had been set up in the back with simple candles and a side table of covered dishes. Rolls, fresh baked, spilled over a basket and a bottle of wine was already breathing.
My stomach made a ridiculous growling sound and Dimitri laughed.
“Let’s feed you, then we can talk.”
For the next ten minutes I just ate, rolls and a lovely squash soup with ginger and lemon. There was a selection of cheeses and fruit, and finally a chocolate soufflé. Dimitri ate a little but mostly watched me.
“You have the loveliest skin,” he said suddenly. I was drinking my third glass of wine and feeling comfortably buzzed. So naturally I gulped.
“Not to wear, I hope,” I managed. He smiled.
“Are you ever serious? I’ve never met someone quite so ready with a sharp quip as you.” He leaned forward and took my hand. My fingers tingled under the light touch.
“You seem to bring out the worst in me.” I drained my glass and poured another. I let his hand stay on mine, turning my palm up so he could stroke it. It tickled in a way that I didn’t just feel in my palm.
“It’s almost translucent, your skin. I can see the veins, trace them like a map”—his finger followed his words up my wrist, gently pulling the sleeve up as he went—“all the way to your heart,” he finished, still stroking the skin. It lit up like fire everywhere he touched.
Feeling wine-bold, I took his hand and began to trace the lines on his palm.
“You’re so warm. I keep expecting you to be cool or cold. You feel as alive as I am.” I didn’t look at his face as I touched him, just let my fingers wander. “You have the hands of an artist or musician. Do you play?” I asked.
“The piano sometimes. I’m a little rusty.” His voice was low. I got up and walked over to him. He started up but I put my hands on his shoulders to push him gently back. He was looking up at me, the soft candlelight making the lines of his face pale gold.
I finally did what I’d wanted to do since I’d met him: ran my fingers through his soft, silky hair. I looked him in the eye as I did so, their sea-like depths watching me, thick eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings. When I touched his cheekbones, his hands came up to my hips.
I leaned down and brushed his lips with mine, softly, curiously. He pulled me gently down onto his lap and deepened the kiss. He was tasting me and I knew it. I felt it all the way to my toes. Desire coiled and grew as we kissed. His tongue darted at mine and I licked it.
I maneuvered myself so that I was sitting astride him and his hands came up to cup my breasts. Heat spread. He pulled my shirt down and broke the kiss, only to begin it again on my nipple. One of his hands came down to hold my backside, then slide towards the cleft. I sighed and rubbed against him.
He moved with easy, gentle strokes, cupping and rubbing. I could feel how hard he was against me.
“I think…I have too many clothes on. And so do you,” I said close to his ear, before gently biting the lobe. He groaned and nodded.
It didn’t take long for us to both be pants-less, and I was straddling him again, pressing down skin to skin. He slid into me, full and easy, and I arched back. One arm held me as another stroked down my belly to rest against my damp curls. I moved against him, slowly, letting him fill me up. It had been a while, and I had forgotten just how good sex could feel. My body was focused, my mind deliciously blank of anything but the desire between my legs.
Dimitri tilted me back further with one arm, then pressed his fingers against my clit. I cried out, jerking a little, the bud sparking. It didn’t take long before I was spiraling, a hot ache spreading, reaching, peaking. I came hard, sharp, back bowing.
He was still hard and my body wasn’t done. I put my hands on his shoulders and pressed down firmly, then up. A rhythm was started, met, worked. I came again, clutching at his face, kissing him and biting at his neck. He was stroking deep, a little frantically even. I watched his face as he came, eyes closed, concentrated. He pumped inside of me and I clung to his neck.
“Well,” I said, when I thought I could safely speak again. “That was unexpected.”
“Not entirely.” He grinned. I smacked his shoulder. I felt good, relaxed, and completely unashamed of just having fucked a vampire I’d met one day before. Maybe I was more of an adventurer than I thought.
I slept for a long time that night, for obvious reasons. My dreams were odd, intangible things full of vague terrors and equally strange desires. I ran from laughing faces and embraced pale figures. Cities I didn’t know streamed past.
When I woke, I felt rested but confused, unsure of where I was at first. I was too hot, trapped under a mountain of blankets. I was also alone and saw afternoon sun streaming in through a slightly open curtain. I opened it up and looked at the grounds. They were sprawling and green and there seemed to be a small lake in the distance. Flowers spread about in neat rows. I wished they were wilder.
I dressed and somehow found my way to the kitchen. If there were any other people around, I didn’t see them. It was quiet as a tomb in the house—a thought I didn’t exactly love.
I spent the rest of the day wandering about the castle. I’d never been in one before and I have to say, it was spectacular. But cold and not nearly as interesting without my handsome guide.
When Dimitri appeared, the sun had just set. He was looking rested and a bit self-satisfied. I rolled my eyes when he came up to me and kissed my hand.
“Sleep well?” he asked.
“Yes and no. Strange dreams,” I said, walking outside with him. The air was sweet with the scent of night blooming flowers.
“We’ll head to Paris tomorrow. I’ve made contact with the council and I should be able to get this settled quickly.”
“Will I have to speak to this council?” I asked, not really relishing the idea of explaining myself to a bunch of vampires.
“No, I’ll be your advocate. They’re very secretive, and for good reason. You already know more than they’d like.” He didn’t look at me.
“Well, that sounds ominous.” I wanted to sound nonchalant but I felt queasy and scared. It had been easier to ignore the strange reality I’d been thrust into in the light of the afternoon. I could pretend I’d just met a handsome stranger and been whisked off on a romantic tour of France. I had, of course, but there was a rather large catch. There usually is.
“Will I at least be able to see some of the city while we’re there? During the day, I mean?” I asked, leaning against a wall to look out over a sweet little garden of purple flowers.
“Of course. I’ll have some of my bodyguards keep an eye on you.” He put his hands around my waist as he said this, breath against my neck.
“Ah,” I said, and his lips brushed the back of my neck. Then his teeth. Desire was alive between us again, making me forget my fear and just want skin on skin.
I turned around, and he touched my cheek. Then he was on his knees, pulling up my skirt. I gasped, grabbing his head. Pulling it to me. He pushed aside my underwear and put his mouth to me, hot, hungry.
“Oh, god,” I said softly as his tongue found its mark. The sensation was sharp, delicious, intense. I gave myself over to it, my body welcoming each sip of his tongue, each touch of his hand. When he put my legs over his shoulders for a better angle, I held his head. When I came, I shouted into the night, free and clear.
He turned me around and I presented myself to him and the cooling night air, panting a little with anticipation. I looked over my shoulder at him as he unbuckled his pants. Then he was entering me from behind, swift and sure. Using my arms, I pushed back against him, hard, meeting each of his thrusts with my own. We met skin to skin, flesh to flesh, heat to heat.
I was a little shaky when it was over this time, surprised at myself. I’d never had sex outside; anyone could have seen us. But I wasn’t embarrassed. I seemed to be more and more willing to take risks these days.
“We fit well together,” Dimitri said, kissing my shoulder and stroking my bare hip. We were in bed this time, after a rather rushed dinner. The more we touched, the more we seemed to want to.
“I don’t generally do things like this,” I said, touching his cheek and pushing his hair back. “I don’t even know you.”
“What more do you need to know? I can make you feel good, and you make me feel good. We’re lucky.” His hand rested on my curved belly.
“I suppose this is what affairs are, then? Lots of sex, not much getting to know each other?” His hand moved lower as I spoke.
“Oh, I think we’re getting to know each other pretty well. In all the right places.” He kissed my spine as his fingers slid between my legs. I sighed, opening them.
“God, you’re lovely,” he said and slid a finger inside. I arched and gave up trying to talk.
The next day I woke up late. It was already night. I was keeping vampire hours already. We took the car into the city with several large suitcases I hadn’t seen before. Dimitri entertained me with stories about parties, hijinks, and a whirlwind lifestyle that sounded both extravagant and lonely to me.
“…we were so drunk we didn’t realize that we’d wandered straight into a French encampment. The soldiers were more surprised than we were.”
“Did they say anything?” I said, wondering if he was talking about some recent escapade or something more than a hundred years ago. Time seemed to work a little differently for those who had an infinite amount of it.