by A. C. Mason
“Do you like that?” With his wet fingers, he coated her nipple and pinched the bud.
“Yes.” She swallowed between moans.
Faster, he stroked. “I’d love to fill your ass with my cock, while I finger your pussy.” He rolled his thumb back and forth over her clit. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She had said as much during their phone sex conversations.
Her deep breaths grew erratic. “Yes.”
He caressed her clit with his fingers, and downward they glided to her inner labia. When he pressed three digits to the tight canal, she jerked into his descending hand. Strumming her nub with his thumb, he massaged the bead.
He sped the rhythm of his strokes. Precum coated the head of his cock in his excitement.
“Vaihan.” She arched her back, jutting her breasts out as she grunted.
“Yes, Leera.” He plunged deeper.
Her internal muscles squeezed his fingers. Juices dripped a trail down his hand to his lap.
“I’m coming!” she cried out.
He milked his release to the surface, grabbed the labeled container and emptied his seed into the clear jar. He wanted to kiss her, tell her how he felt about her. As he rested his head against her back, no words manifested themselves.
* * * *
Vaihan set the box on his desk with his personal belongings. Not the type of items humans would have. A few handwritten thank you notes and photos of him with foreign dignitaries. Despite pleas to ride this out, he wouldn’t be back.
The chief of staff entered his office. “The president has approved your speech with only minor changes.” He held out the papers. “You’ve less than five minutes.”
No love was lost between him and the older human male. He took the speech in hand. “Thank you, George.” The Texas native didn’t much care for Vaihan’s kind.
“She’ll stand behind you in the briefing room for support.” His lips thinned into a line. “However, she won’t take questions from the press.”
Through and through, the president was a dear friend. “I understand.”
“You proved me right, just when I was hoping you wouldn’t.” George paused in the door frame. “I wish you the best.”
The car was packed with everything Vaihan was taking with him to his cabin. He’d provided his roomies Flint, Quinn and Sam money and contacts if they were in need of help. He’d looked after the details. Only one last thing needed to be done.
Vaihan stopped at the door and turned out the light. The hall was deserted as he headed for the stairs. It was someone else’s turn to take up the role of leadership among his people. For twenty-nine years, he’d been the face of the undead.
If anything, his confession today would humanize them in the public’s eyes. He was doing this for them, as he didn’t need to explain and would be perfectly content with his fall from grace.
The security guard, Larry, smiled.
“This is the last of it. When I’m done in the briefing room, I’ll pick up my box and be on my way.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Louchian.” He leaned in. “Me and the other guys got you a little something. I’ll slip it into the box. None of us ever believed you hurt the girl on purpose.”
“Thank you, Larry. It means a lot to me to hear you say that.” He clamped a hand on the man’s shoulder. The statement was as much for the benefit of the president as it was for the Larrys of the country.
Kirsten stood, arms crossed, by the door to the briefing room.
Vaihan walked toward her and slowed.
“We can ride this rough patch out.” She placed her hand on his forearm.
He covered her fingers with his hand. “It’s time for me to deal with my own demons, real or imagined.”
The president stepped closer. “No matter what is said about you, I know the truth. You are the most loyal of friends and trusted of advisors any human or undead could have the pleasure of having. I wish you peace and contentment.”
A lump of pain seized his throat. “I appreciate everything you have done for me and my people. We owe you a debt of gratitude. I hope to one day repay your kindness, Madam President.”
“You will be missed.” Tears welled in her eyes.
With a nod, he strode past her into the briefing room. Photographers’ bulbs flashed in his face, as he made his way to the podium.
“I wanted to thank the members of the press for attending.” Vaihan smiled and sipped the glass of water in front of him. “At zero nine hundred yesterday, I met with the president. We spoke at length about the incident that prompted my suspension.” He cleared his throat. “At which time, I handed in my resignation as her Special Advisor in Undead Relations.”
A collective gasp caught him off balance. No one had thought he would leave over the incident.
“For the reasons I will now outline, the incident on the night of November twentieth with Ms. Waltz was a grave lapse in judgment. I have a tremendous respect and fondness for her, and my action could have ended her life. After some soul searching, I realized that I’d not dealt with the loss of Elizabeth, my partner of seven years. That developing an attachment to a new woman created fear in me and caused me to behave in a way unbecoming to myself, my people, and those of you who’ve supported the work I’ve done.” Tears welled in his eyes. He hadn’t expected his emotions to be stirred.
He flipped to the next sheet. “I will be retiring from the public service to my cabin to deal with the grief I’ve bottled up, which reared itself in such a destructive manner. I hope that one day the people of this great nation can forgive my weakness. I especially hope that Ms. Waltz and her family can find it within them to pardon my recklessness.
“The president accepted my resignation, at which time I provided her with a list of three qualified undead, each with the skill set and expertise needed to help her within the coming months, until she can find a permanent replacement.” He wet his mouth from the glass of water on the podium. “I will find a way to repair the damage I have caused to us all.” Vaihan stepped back.
The press secretary moved to the microphone. “Mr. Louchian will take a few questions.”
Nearly every hand went up.
A young, dark-haired man stood. “Do you believe reports that Mr. Waltz was sent in by the Army of the Living to discredit you?”
“Whether or not that is the case is irrelevant. I acted recklessly, which is what placed her life in danger. However, to answer your question, I do not believe Ms. Waltz is capable of what has been said about her in the media.”
A middle-aged woman straightened up. “Do you love Ms. Waltz?”
“Yes, I do, which is another reason why I am truly sorry for the pain I’ve caused her and her family. The last thing I wanted to do was harm her.”
An undead lifted from his seat. “Would you share the name of the undead you have put forth for the president’s consideration?”
Vaihan nodded. “I’ve not listed them in a ranking order. Isay Bakal, Lev Koval and Nika Jonah.”
An older man with thinning hair rose. “Can you tell us more about your relationship with Elizabeth? Years, location, et cetera...”
“Elizabeth Marie Raskob and I met in Brooklyn, New York, in the 1930s.” That night would be with him forever.
“Any relation to the late John J. Raskob of DuPont and General Motors?”
“Thank you for being here.” He swallowed the ache in his chest and exited into the hall.
Elizabeth had been born blind but was as sharp as a whip. Her brother had seen to her education and provided for her. Fiercely independent, she’d lived alone until she took him in. The man Vaihan had been tracking as his next meal had followed her from the subway. The vile man’s intent was to rape and mug her. Rain had poured down that night. Her steps had remained unchanged, though she’d sensed someone followed her. Her strides stayed even. As the man prepared to attack, Vaihan had grabbed and paralyzed him. Elizabeth had sensed Vaihan, the struggle, and thanked him for saving her. She’d stoo
d in the downpour and refused to leave until he answered her. Lightning had lit up the night sky, and she’d captivated him. Fearless.
A friendship had developed into something deeper. She’d known he was different, but treated him as her counterpart. From the smell of him, she’d known he didn’t have a place to stay and had offered him her couch, until he could get on his feet again. Static shock had sparked between them, and she would push his buttons. “What are you so afraid of?” she’d said. “Seeing the world, or the world seeing you? I may be blind, but I see you, and you are kind, tender and scared.” Soon she invited him to her bed. They had spent four wondrous years together. Then he’d awakened in the middle of the night. Her scent had changed. He’d known something was terribly wrong. Cancer, which quickly moved to her bones. He’d cared for her night and day, as she slipped further from life–from him.
A single droplet slid from one eye. In single files on both sides, the White House staff gathered, misty eyed, and clapped. Vaihan nodded as he strode past, picked up his box and headed out into the dismal day.
Elizabeth always thought him an angel. How far he’d fallen from her belief in him! Those last days with her remained in his thoughts. As he’d lain next to her on their bed, listening to her raspy breathing, unsure she’d take the next, she’d turned to him.
“Tell me, Lou, what you are,” she’d said in a barely audible whisper. She’d renamed him, so that others could pronounce his name. She’d navigated him through darkness, and it was his turn to return her devotion.
Was it the reflection of himself that he saw in Leera that drew him to her? She too, was kind, tender and scared, as he had been when he’d met Elizabeth.
Chapter 42
Leera held on to the handle of the taxi door. Images were wavy and blurry when she tried to focus. Perspiration and corn chips filled her every breath, causing her stomach to lurch. After sitting out the worst of it at the hospital, the doc had finally released her.
The cab driver stared back at her through the glass. “Are you sure this is the place, lady?” His big melon head widened and shrunk.
Leera blinked. “Honk the horn and see if a man or two come running out.” The gray brick bungalow had the numbers thirty-three next to the door. Everything had halos of color. A three or an eight? “Rainbows.” She moved her hands in front of her face. The patterns moved. “Cool.”
“Crazy broad.” The honk startled her. “Another Z-ho.”
Two blurry figures ran out of the house. “I’m afraid this is the place.” She laughed at how angry Rowley would be.
“Get Leera inside,” Rowley ordered, as he stopped next to the cabby’s window.
Man, he was pissed. He never used her name. She laughed, sure the melon head would get a gazillion and three questions about where she’d been picked up. Pain crushed her chest as it filled with fear and anger. She didn’t like this sensation.
“What have you done to yourself, cron sceimhiuil?” Big arms slid beneath her, lifting her out into the cold.
“Are you going to have your way with me?” Heat pulsed between her thighs. She pressed her lips to his ear. “I miss the feel of you inside me.”
“Not when you are like this.” One, then the other boot was pulled off. Warmth surrounded her, as Devin lowered her onto the mattress and covered her.
The front door slammed closed.
“Did you go to it?” Rowley’s jaw was clenched tight.
She giggled so hard she snorted.
“I knew this would fucking happen,” Rowley said. “She can’t be trusted. She’s gotten a taste for the toxin–for it.” Back and forth he walked, with waves of colors trailing behind him.
Sweat trickled down her face. Her stomach didn’t feel right. Pain rippled through her and all her muscles pulsed. A flush covered her entire body.
Leera wiggled out of her coat. “Rowley, help me.”
“What’s wrong?” He kneeled on the bed next to her.
“I feel sick. Please, I’m burning.” She grabbed hold of him and pulled him to her.
Devin kneeled on the other side. “Shit, this isn’t normal hot. Let’s get her clothes off and dunk her in the tub.”
They pulled and tugged. “Are you sure this is going to work?”
“I’m not a doctor, Rowley, but if she gets too hot and her brain swells she might have a seizure. I do know if that happens, she could slip into a coma again or die.”
“Okay.” Rowley ran out of the room.
Cold air hit her, as he exposed her flesh. She shivered. “I’m cold now.”
“I know, but we need to get your fever down.” Devin stroked her face. “I hate to do this to you, cron sceimhiuil, but we have to.” He lifted her into his arms.
Goose bumps covered her flesh. Her nipples ached with cold. Water rushed behind her, and she tried to sit up.
“I’m going to need your help to keep her immersed,” Devin said to Rowley.
“Please, don’t to this to me.” Teeth chattering from the cold, she pushed his chest.
“I’ll hold her legs and lower body.” Rowley’s voice sounded strained.
Freezing water stabbed her skin like thousands of needles puncturing her. She gasped, then screeched, thrashing her arms and legs, clawing upward to the surface.
* * * *
Leera ached everywhere. Even her little toe. A throb pulsated behind her eyes as they fluttered open. Her body needed more. More. More. Of the ecstasy. She shook with want. Between her legs burned. Her opening felt sore.
Rowley lay naked in front of her and another nude male lay behind her. Devin?
“Welcome back to the living.” Rowley flattened her curls away from her face.
That didn’t sound promising. This conversation wouldn’t go well.
Lips tucked to her ear, he huffed. “I thought...I lost you again.” Pain deepened the inflection of his words. “I don’t know how to help you, but I will find a way.”
The man loved her. Methods and behavior aside, he did the best he could, considering his own baggage. She didn’t want to be helped.
“We’ve gotten you a cellphone. Next time you feel yourself giving in, you speed dial one or two, and either Devin or I will come for you. No questions asked.” He kissed her forehead.
No shouting? Her actions must have scared him, or he’d be flying off the handle.
Her mouth was dry. “Water.”
The bed depressed behind her. “Coming right up.” Devin pulled on shorts and exited the room.
“How long have I been out for?”
“Sixty-three or so hours.”
Shit. That meant she’d missed her other appointment. She needed to get hold of the doctor to reschedule. The two of them wouldn’t be letting her out of sight until after the New Year.
“I need to head to the warehouse for a few hours to meet with some associates, and then we can spend a quiet New Year’s Eve watching the countdown on TV.”
“Are you sure? I mean, I’d hate for you to blow off plans because of my relapse.”
“Is that what we are going to refer to this as?” He narrowed his gaze.
That hadn’t been an attempt to downplay what happened. “We can call it anything you like, Rowley.”
“Here you go.” Devin held out the glass for her and propped himself on the dresser.
She grabbed the mug’s handle and gulped back the cool liquid. “More, please.” She wiped her lips and chin with the back of her hand.
“Where did you go for the drug?” Rowley leaned back onto the headboard.
She sighed. Heat burst from her core. Sensations and images flashed through her. Rowley, kissing and licking between her thighs, then sucking her breasts. Devin inside her, filling her. She reached down. The skin on the inside of her legs was raw. Her mouth was swollen, split, and tender.
“Did you two have your way with me?”
“I’m not sure I follow what you mean.” Devin crossed his arms. “After we got you out of the freezing tub, you were
insatiable.”
“Even with us taking turns, we struggled to keep up with your demands of us,” Rowley said.
“What?” How could that be?
“To the point,” Rowley said, shifting. “We were out of condoms, but you wouldn’t stop.”
“We did our best not to come in you.” Devin sat at the end of the bed. “Rowley, pick up condoms on your way home from the warehouse.”
“Can I go with you?”
“You’d like to come with me?”
“If you don’t mind. I’d say it’s because of being cooped up for so many days, but it seems you both took great care of me.” She sat up.
His dark blue eyes held hers. “I don’t see why not. I’ll only be in for a few hours. First though, we should have breakfast. Devin will make us his famous spinach, feta and jalapeno omelet.” He kissed her forehead and got out of bed.
Her stomach grumbled, though it ached with emptiness. Food was low on her list of needs. Rowley enjoyed having Devin there, someone he could count on. By forcing Devin to keep information from Rowley, he’d lose the one person he’d been closest to since she’d left.
* * * *
Leera slid into the washroom a few doors down from Rowley’s office. The light above her flickered. She took a few deep breaths. The food they’d forced her to consume wreaked havoc on her stomach. A hand on each side of the sink, she met her own gaze in the mirror.
“Keep it together.”
The door opened. She turned. An undead entered, closing the door behind him.
His eyes were dark points, glimmering in the dim lighting, and he was lean and tall. The creature’s features were strong, yet palatable. He wore a black coat over a crisp white high collared dress shirt and black pleated dress pants.
“So you are the infamous Leera?” His voice was raspy.
An undead among the people Rowley permitted at the warehouse? Hard to believe he’d go for such a thing.
“That depends on who’s saying stuff about me.” She evened out her breathing.
“I am.” The corner of his mouth quirked to one side, and his gazed moved over her.
Sizing her up. “And you are?”