by VK Fox
Chapter Fifteen
Ian sent Dahl and Jane back to the hotel ahead of him in case the local wildlife were feeling shy. He assured them he’d play it safe, keeping his walkie on and returning only a few minutes behind.
Jane’s room was beautiful and the most luxurious she’d seen, hotel or otherwise. A gas fireplace and built-in bookshelves framed the plush, royal-blue carpet, matching wingback chairs, and a king-sized bed with a floral quilt. Cushioned window seats overlooked scenic, landscaped grounds with astonishing fall color and a large pond, now reflecting the night sky. She was exhausted from the day that began so long ago, waking in Ian’s arms. She intensely wanted him here now. Jane stood in front of her bed. How forward would it sound if she asked him to stay with her? She turned off the lights to enjoy the fire, sinking into one of the comfortable chairs. The little flames danced cheerfully, bathing the room in flickering reds and yellows. Her thoughts kept returning to Ian. The idea of him urged her to stand. Uncertainty forced her to sit. She’d lost her compass. How was she supposed to figure out a situation so intense and complicated?
A soft knock sounded at the door. Jane stood, smoothed her rumpled shirt and jeans, and went to answer. Ian stood in the hall, gazing at her with deep eyes as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Hi.” He lapsed into silence, and his eyes tracked left for a second. Jane stifled a smirk. He couldn’t remember what he’d planned to say.
“Hey! How’s it going?” Maybe dial back the cringy giddiness. She needed to play this a little less desperate.
“I wanted to make sure you were good for the night.” Ian fiddled with one of his earrings for a few seconds before dropping his hand with a visible effort to be still. “Did you want me to, um, send you good dreams again? I could set that up now.”
Jane was nodding along before he finished speaking. “Yeah, great. Come on in.”
Ian entered and paused in front of the fire, turning so his face glowed red in the flickering light. “Are you doing okay so far? The supernatural stuff isn’t creeping you out too much?”
“I’m okay.” Jane smothered her mounting nerves from the evening’s earlier conversation. She’d always been a little freaked out by urban legends, which was the point, wasn’t it? She wasn’t sensitive to scary stories, she just firmly relied on her ability to close her eyes and plug her ears during the scary parts, which might not be an option this go-round.
But no need to mention her nerves, because Ian was smiling again. God, that smile. “Good. You’re doing great. It’s a lot to take in, and you’re crushing it. I’m impressed.”
Jane went red, but he probably couldn’t see it in the low light. Since she was out of basket case territory, Jane let the worst of her worries surface. “Dahl mentioned someone might die. I’m having a harder time with the idea of potential fatality.”
Ian groaned. “I wish Dahl had not inferred that.”
“Is it true?”
“Those were not my words or part of my interpretation.”
“But is it what you saw?” Jane knew he could lie to her, but she still wanted to ask. Maybe she even wanted the lie.
Ian’s head drooped. “Yes, it’s true. But it could have been referring to the people who have already died—the kidney theft victims.”
Jane watched Ian in the firelight. He fidgeted slightly and returned her gaze. “But that’s not what you think, is it? You think someone is going to die at a big showdown of some kind?”
Ian smoothed the collar of her flannel gently. “Do you have prophetic powers?”
“No.”
“How about psychic powers? Are you reading my thoughts?”
“Shit, can people do that?”
Ian chuckled. “There are a lot of agents. Someone can do most things. Listen, prophecy is like glimpsing something in the distance. You get an impression about it and kind of the shape of it, but the farther away you are, the more you have to fill in the gaps.”
“Yeah, but you’re still worried.”
“Yes.” Ian’s warm expression intensified to smoldering, and his head dipped, bringing him closer. “That’s not unusual, though. I always worry a little. Life is short. The present is precious. It’s more important to embrace now than to peer endlessly at the future.”
Jane stood on her tiptoes, praying her clumsiness came across as adorable, like he’d said before. “I like embracing now.”
Then his arms were around her and his mouth was pressed against hers, his skin feverishly warm. Jane pulled back an inch. “Are you all right?” she asked breathlessly.
“It’s nothing.” His voice was like honey and darkness. “The side effect of my magic. Nothing to worry about.” He kissed her again, shuffling over to the bed where he sat down, bringing his head even with hers. Jane wrapped her arms around his neck and slipped her tongue between his lips, pressing against his body, a desperate, longing pressure growing inside. His hands wandered, touching her neck, her shoulders, her back. She winced as he brushed against her bruised hip.
He paused. “Are you all right?”
Jane fought back reactionary tears. “Yeah, I’m fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just have an injury.” She waved her hand over the spot by way of explanation. Ian sat back. His face softened and his brows drew together slightly. One huge hand gently held her upper arm, eyes roaming over her, taking in every detail. Jane blushed. He stroked her collarbone delicately with his fingertips.
“Can I kiss you here?” His voice was almost imperceptibly low. Jane nodded, and his lips brushed her skin tenderly several times. His eyes explored her. He barely touched her shoulder between the strap of her tank top and the edge of her flannel.
“Here?”
Jane nodded again, and he bent to kiss her gently. The warmth of his lips soaked into her flesh.
“Here?” His fingers brushed a large bruise on her forearm. He was kissing her bruises. Something inside Jane’s heart lurched. Tears slipped out as she nodded again. His hand cupped her cheek, catching her tears.
“What’s wrong, sweet girl?” His voice was gentle and safe, his eyes searching and warm. Jane didn’t know how to explain. Places inside her were opening up that she had tried to wall off a long time ago. Parts of her heart were too sacred, too fragile to allow anyone to see. And he was here, not breaking down the walls, but passing through them.
“Please. Please don’t stop.” The words fought their way past the lump in her throat. He looked into her, and the rest of the room faded away. She kissed him again, and he responded with an intensity that sent shivers through her body. His lips on her mouth, her neck, her chest. She could hear herself moaning. A sound of complete abandon and desire escaped from the core of her being. She worked her fingers through his hair and pressed her body between his thighs, inhaling his scent, tasting his skin. His excitement grew. A significant amount of excitement, proportionate to everything else about him. Substantial.
Jane’s breath became ragged gasps, and the ache between her legs was pulsing and wet and hot. She stripped off her flannel and then her shirt in rapid succession as he fumbled with the clasp of her bra. A few seconds later, she was sliding off his shirt, too, and pressing against him. Jane grabbed his hand, placed it over her breast, and moaned, a thrill spreading at his gasp of pleasure. Every vocalization urged him on, his pulse pounding as he extended the moment, touching and exploring and loving her with his hands and his mouth.
He lifted her and gently laid her on top of the covers, and her mind flashed back to their first kiss. Had that been this morning? Had it only been this morning? The fire inside of her dampened in a flood of reality.
“Wait—” She was still gasping, but she held his hands. The room spun around her. “Wait just a minute.” She tried to regain a grip on the situation.
God bless Ian, he stopped as soon as she said the words. He hung above her, warm and impossibly large, holding her gaze, passionate but hesitating—listening to her. She breathed in and out a few times and forced h
er body to relax.
“I want to be with you.” Her hand touched his face, tracing his jaw. “But not tonight. I like you, Ian. We have the beginning of something special, our own story. I’m not ready for this part yet. Will you stay with me, like you did last night? Can you hold me while we sleep?”
Ian exhaled, letting his shoulders relax. He took a few deep breaths and met her eyes, beaming. “I would be happy to.” He bent over her and tenderly kissed her forehead. Then he shifted and lay down on the bed and struggled to regulate his breathing. Jane bit her lip hard and stifled the desire to excite him again, to make him moan. At this point, she would be teasing. She kissed his cheek, tasting the sweat and anticipation lingering on his skin. Her hand strayed back to his body. Shit, she needed another walk. And a cigarette. And possibly an ice-cold shower. She sat up, legs dangling over the side of the bed.
“Ian, stop tempting me.”
Ian laughed out loud. “I can do all of the things you’ve asked me except for that one. Sorry.” He closed his eyes, reaching out for her hand.
“Thank you for listening to me.” Jane’s voice was small, but she needed to say it.
Ian squeezed her hand. “Of course. I think we have something special too. I want to honor your wishes.”
Jane laughed. “I bet I’m the only one who has said wait in that position.”
Ian opened his twinkling eyes. “Jane, you’re the only one, period. Don’t worry about any kind of comparison.”
“Wait, what?”
“You’re the only woman I’ve been romantically involved with.”
“What?”
Ian chuckled. “My time with you is the sum total of my sexual experience.”
“I don’t understand. You’re almost thirty, and you’re built like a wet dream.”
“Well, thank you.” Ian grinned. “I wasn’t always. Before I bonded, I was below average in the physical prowess department. I saw the way women viewed me both before and after, and I realized they were much more interested in my appearance than who I was. If I wanted to get laid, I’m sure I could have, but I wanted something else.” Ian kissed the back of her hand briefly, his skin fever warm, stubble from his chin tickling. “Raising Dahl complicated things too. Don’t say anything, of course, but most of my time and energy went to him rather than socializing. He’s only recently reached a point where he has other people who love him, and I can shift my focus. I wouldn’t have wanted it differently, but there were sacrifices.”
“I’m not a virgin.” Jane blurted out. “I’m sorry, but I’m not. I slept with my first boyfriend when I was seventeen. We were going to get married after graduation. And then we didn’t. I slept with my next boyfriend because I wanted to at the time. I felt bad about it afterward, but I couldn’t put into words why. It’s complicated,” Jane finished quietly, staring at her lap.
Ian sat up. “Jane, you’re upset again. Are you afraid I’ll think badly of you? You were living your life and making decisions before you met me.” Ian squeezed her hand gently. “Life is full of choices. I’m sure you did the best you could at the time. And if you made a mistake, then be kind to yourself. Mistakes happen.”
Jane turned to him, lying shirtless on her bed. In the low light and passion, she’d missed what was now startlingly apparent. Across his muscular torso were scars like she had never seen. The small, pointed bits of scar tissue she had noticed peeking out of his shirt this morning were the ends of huge strips of shiny, purplish, crinkly skin running from his collarbone to his abdomen and across his shoulders and biceps. They were strangely similar to tiger stripes. Jane tried to cover her surprise.
His chuckle interrupted her thoughts. “You’ve got to work on your poker face, pretty girl.”
“Oh, yeah. I probably do.” Jane could not tear her eyes off him. She reached over to touch his side. He shivered as she trailed her fingertips along one of the stripes. “This is from when you changed, I guess?”
“Yes. I don’t remember it. It happened during the year I lost. By the time I was myself again, I’d gained eighteen inches and two hundred pounds.”
“That’s crazy! Did you hit your head a lot?”
Ian laughed. “I bet I did at first, but I was pretty coordinated by the time I came out of it. Fine motor skills were harder to remaster. My hands are much larger than they used to be, but I worked through a lot of it.”
“Looks like it hurt.” Jane touched his shoulder and became suddenly, painfully aware she was also shirtless. She twisted away and hunched her shoulders.
“Jane?” The bed creaked as he sat up, leaning toward her. This was natural a minute ago. Why was it so awkward now?
“Yeah, I’m just—” She crossed her arms, hiding her breasts, as he scooted next to her.
“Just what?” he prompted.
“Embarrassed.” She glared at her folded arms.
“Why?”
Jane gave him some serious side-eye. In this moment, they were suddenly speaking different languages. Less than five minutes ago, she was half naked and moaning in the arms of a man with whom she’d shared only a dozen conversations. That wasn’t the way she should behave. He was being intentionally ignorant of everything about dating culture.
“Oh.” A switch flipped in Jane’s mind, and the lightbulb came on. Not intentionally ignorant. Just ignorant. “You don’t feel awkward, do you?”
“Should I?” He put an arm around her, pulling her close.
Jane grinned. She let her hands fall into her lap. “Nope. Don’t worry about it.”
“If I’m embarrassing you, please let me know.” Worry crept into his voice. “A lot of my instincts are rooted in a different time. I’m not trying to act inappropriately.”
“Sounds like you’ve had this kind of conversation before.”
“Yes.” Ian laughed and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “The ancient Sumerians wrote The Epic of Gilgamesh, so their ideals are connected to me in a lot of subtle ways. They were much less guarded about physical contact. I figured out pretty quickly that no one wants a hug from a guy my size, and most other men aren’t really cool with holding hands or getting kissed, even in a platonic way, but I still have those kinds of impulses. I try to keep them in check. Nudity doesn’t feel taboo, although consciously I know it is. But, as I said, intimacy is new. My story was pretty romantically explicit, so I’m sure I have some personal complications there. I’m sorry if I’m doing something wrong.”
Jane giggled, trying to picture seven-foot, three-hundred-fifty-pound Ian holding the hands of his coworkers. Well, if partial nudity didn’t bother him, why rain on his parade? She leaned against him, soaking in his warmth in the chilly night.
“Tell me the story. I don’t know it.” Jane watched the flames dancing in the fireplace. So many people in the world sat in front of a fire and listened to stories. Stories brought communities together, spread wisdom, passed down tradition. Words of life and love and magic filled the air, enhanced by flame and smoke.
Ian began, stroking her hair as she rested against him. “Gilgamesh, three-quarters god and one-quarter man, was king of the great city of Uruk. He was intelligent, strong, and beautiful, but his heart was not like the hearts of his people. The gods saw his greatness was a lonely prison, driving him to cruelty, so they crafted for him a friend. In the wild forest, they made the god-man Enkidu to be his equal. Enkidu lived with the animals as one of them until a woman from Uruk came to teach him the ways of man. She gave him bread, beer, clothing, and most of all, her love. She brought him back to the city to live among the people of Uruk and love their king. Gilgamesh and Enkidu adventured together, fighting dragons, monsters, and defying even the gods. But this displeased Ishtar, who Gilgamesh mocked. As revenge, the goddess sent a wasting illness to claim Enkidu’s life. Gilgamesh, grief-stricken and contemplating death, went in search for the secret of immortality. He failed. He returned to Uruk empty-handed but with the wisdom that the city and the people it sheltered were his immortal
ity. And now, four thousand years distant, we sit here speaking his name.”
Jane sat in silence for a few minutes, savoring his words before giving him a gentle nudge in the ribs. “You skipped the romantically explicit parts. As your girlfriend, I think those are important.”
“Well, the text goes into a lot of fairly graphic imagery about spreading legs and sucking rods, that sort of thing. The main theme of the love story is that through the act of love, Enkidu becomes more human. The theme is pretty universal. Everyone can relate to love as an important part of being human.”
“And the wasting disease? That’s why you have a fever? It’s your side effect?”
“You are clever.” Ian kissed the top of her head. “Right now, it’s nothing more than a minor annoyance. I didn’t use much magic today. I’m pretty adept at delaying the effects when I need to. I can go for hours afterward without it slowing me down. Tonight, it’s only a small matter, not worth the effort to delay.”
“Do you think the link changed you?” Jane’s eyes were starting to get heavy.
“Outside, a lot. Inside, not much. You know how it is. Some small things, strange dreams, out-of-place impulses, but mostly you’re the same person you always were. Maybe more so.”
“It’s interesting that you are always different outside. Like magic is always happening around you.”
Ian’s voice was low and dreamy. “Some effects are constant. Once they’re in place, they keep going. I don’t have to exercise. I never get sick. I rarely get tired. I’m much more physically resilient than a regular man.”