"You were always more than good enough for me, Karim." She said, but now, I'm not good enough for you, she thought.
***
Briar had knocked on Remy's door for fifteen minutes before reaching for his phone. As it rang in his ear, he listened for the echo of his personalized ring tone on the other side of the door. He had been with Remy when he'd chosen Destiny's Child's song "Soldier" as his tone. They’d been sitting on the sofa in Remy's apartment, watching a movie when Remy had smiled and played that tone.
"Why on earth did you choose that as my ring tone?" Briar had asked, laughing but a little confused.
"Because," Remy said, standing over Briar in his black boxer briefs and nothing else. “I need a soldier that ain’t scared to stand up for me, known to carry big things, if you know what I mean,” he sang and danced to the beat and Briar chuckled.
"What if someone hears it? What will they think?" Briar'd asked thinking the song was a little too risky for Lt. Commander Remy Kent. Briar hadn't been ashamed of being gay, but he didn't broadcast it either. He was already a big man and a ginger to boot but now he was a big, gay ginger who was essentially banging his boss. The ring tone was pretty much on the nose and they could get into trouble if it was discovered. Remy had suddenly become serious, his deep brown eyes solemn. He sat next to Briar, taking his hand and lacing their fingers and smiled.
"When have I ever given even one fuck about what people think?" he’d asked before leaning in to kiss him. He and Remy had been brand new, only three weeks into the relationship. A relationship that had started as a one-time thing, but ended up being more than either of them had expected.
He smiled to himself when Remy's voicemail came on the line, a deep, sleepy growl that always sent a tingle of excitement through him. Remy had a very nonchalant way of speaking that was somewhere between Southern drawl and French annoyance, but with an emphasis on neither. He'd once told Briar that it had taken him years to develop the non-distinct accent he affected. Unlike Celeste who could master any accent after hearing it once, he and the rest of his family had spoken French for so long that it had taken nearly one hundred years to adjust the way they spoke.
"This is Remy Kent. Leave a message. I may call you back. I may not. If I don't...you know why." It was followed by the beep.
"Remy, I've been outside of your door for...twenty minutes. I don't know where you are but I'm going home. I've been awake for over forty eight hours now and I’m dead on my feet. Call me later, babe." He pushed the end call button and walked away. He was halfway down in the elevator when the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Something was wrong, he thought. He couldn't put his finger on it but something was definitely wrong. He yawned and shook his head. He was groggy, maybe that was why he was so freaked out. It wasn't like he and Remy hadn't gotten their wires crossed before. It actually happened often. Remy was often being called away at the last minute, he was second in command, after all. And with Briar being a lycan, was always being sent out to track rouges and law breakers, so today was no different.
He rubbed his tired eyes and sighed. He just needed a hot shower and a comfortable bed and he would be fine. Remy would call when he got the message, or better yet, show up at Briar’s apartment. He always did.
***
She hadn't expected this. Not from Lilith. The Queen stood, smoothing her skirt before she began to pace the room, her fingers linked behind her back. She circled the sofa, staring at the back of Lilith's head and wishing injury on her as she contemplated the girl. She was feeding her tidbits of information, bit sized bits that she wanted to savor, but she needed the entire meal. She stood opposite the sofa and looked at Lilith for a second, her pale eyes narrowing as she sized the girl up.
"What do you have?" she finally asked. Lilith uncrossed her legs and deliberately placed her glass on the table before she spoke. She met the Queen's arctic stare, unblinking, unwavering and smiled a wicked little smile. She had the upper hand and the little cow knew it. If her husband hadn't warned her off, she would have snapped Lilith's pretty little neck. But, she'd promised Alexander not to harm his precious little princess, for now.
"First we discuss my terms,” Lilith sighed.
"Your terms?" The Queen straightened, her arms folded across her chest. "So, you think it's that good?"
"I know it is." Lilith drained her glass, her smirk still in place.
"I'll be the judge of that. What is it you want?"
"When I give you what you want, I want to leave. You give me what's mine and I will go. I want to be free of this place," Lilith said, suddenly serious.
It took a moment for the Queen to grasp what she was saying, but when she did her perfect face creased in confusion.
She dropped her arms and looked at Lilith a bit dumbstruck, before looking at her companion who looked just as shocked as the Queen. She sat down slowly, gauging Lilith for some sort of tell, some little tick to let her know whether or not this was a trick. Lilith was full of them.
"You want to leave?" she repeated and Lilith nodded.
"Yes. I want to be free of this place and you. I want to live my life in the sunlight. I want...love." That piqued the Queen's interest, her brow shooting skyward.
"Love?" she laughed, “You would give up the throne, the power, the adoration for love? Love is a myth my dear, the sooner you learn that the better. There is no such thing as love; there is only lust and degradation. Love, my dear child, is a human fantasy that rarely ends well."
"You see that's where you're wrong. Love is very real. I've seen it, I've felt it. To see the way those around your precious Caelestis love her, the way they protect her, that’s love. I want to feel that. I want to belong to a world where that’s a possibility. I want a male to look at me and speak of me the way I have seen males speak of Arbor and Celeste Kent. I want to feel those butterflies when my phone rings and I know it’s the one I love. Have you never felt love for anyone?" She was leaning forward, her white eyes scanning the perfect unmarred beauty of the Queen. Surely, someone as beautiful as she must have been in love at least once.
Instead of answering, she sat back in her chair, smoothing her skirt over her legs.
"What did you find?" The Queen's tone was exasperated with this asinine conversation. Lilith was still a child in many ways and she understood the misguided judgment of her naïveté. She wanted the fairytale she saw when she was with the Collective not understanding that she was already the princess. She would learn and she would come back when everything blew up in her face. She would learn that being the heir to the throne of the Dark Fae was her birthright and soon, very soon, she would realize that. At least the Queen hoped she would.
"Agree to my terms," Lilith said. The Queen nodded.
"Of course, child. You can leave to find love or whatever it is you're searching for. Now, does she have the mark?" she asked, becoming impatient with this entire conversation. Lilith had a way of dragging things out for dramatic effect. She was her father's daughter, after all.
"Yes, she does, and there is so much more," Lilith said before telling the Queen of all she'd learned. When she was done, the Queen looked very pleased and somewhat proud. She rose, brushing at her voluminous skirt, a true smile on her perfect lips. She held out her arms and Lilith, obedient as ever, went to her. She could smell the light scent of roses and lavender that always seemed to surround the Queen. Even though she doused herself in expensive perfumes, that scent always came through.
"Thank you, Lilith. You're free to go," she said, kissing the girl on her cheek. Lilith turned to walk away, but the Queen grabbed her hand, holding it, a look on her face that Lilith had never seen before. Was that sadness, she wondered. "But you will be welcome back anytime you wish," she said, and tears illuminated her crystal blue eyes. Lilith nodded, letting her fingers slip from the cool grasp of the other woman.
"Thank you...mother,” Lilith choked before exiting the room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
His mouth was
dry and tasted horrible, like he'd been sucking on a dirty sweat sock all night. Sunlight was streaming into the room from the open drapes, boring a hole into his already aching head. Nicky squinted and sat up, sending empty beer cans and liquor bottles rolling to the floor in a clatter. The sound sent waves of pain through his throbbing head. He groaned, dragging himself from the bed and shuffled, naked and hung over, into the living room of the suite to find his road manager, David, coming towards him.
"Good, you're awake. You have an interview in two hours, then you have a meet and greet, then sound check. We're leaving for the airport right after the show tonight. Move your ass, Sky," he was saying and Nicky could feel himself nodded.
"I need a shower. Is Katie awake? I need her help getting packed,” he grumbled before staggering back into the room, David on his heels.
He was in the shower, the hot water rinsing away the stench of whatever he did the night before, wishing the water could rinse away the residue of shame and guilt that seemed to hover over him like his own personal dark cloud. But it never did. It hadn't lifted for three weeks, not since he'd kissed Celeste good bye and boarded a plane for New York. That first night had been epic, even by rock star standards. So much so, he barely remembered any of it once they landed. He did have a vague memory of checking into his hotel and even of performing, but everything after that was a hazy jumbled of color and sound. Everything after that was a blur of interviews, shows, women, drinking and mornings like this.
He was staring out the window of his hotel, looking at yet another city he wouldn't remember when the petite girl with neon yellow hair entered. Today his assistant was wearing purple sneakers, black and white striped socks, red shorts and a black and red tour t-shirt. She stared at him for a moment, her hands on her hips, her foot tapping the carpet in irritation.
"You're all packed and ready to go. You have an hour or so to sightsee if you like, but I know you won't. We're in Bangkok, by the way. You're starting your shows in Japan tomorrow. Are you done being a slut for this leg of the tour or should I make sure the doc has industrial strength penicillin on hand?" she asked.
"Well, good morning to you too, Katie." He smiled. "How was your night?"
"Painful," she sighed, before going to check the nightstand to make sure he wasn't leaving anything behind.
"You had phone calls again. Gaston called, he wants to know if you've spoken to Remy. Lisette called, have you spoken to Remy. Arbor called, guess what, wants to know if you've spoken to Remy. And," She paused, sighing heavily before turning to face him. "Celeste called."
"To ask about Remy?" he joked. Katie was not amused. For such a cute little thing, she was the most petulant person he'd ever encountered in his life. Standing just under five feet tall and no more than eighty pounds, Katie Paulsen was the epitome of cute. She had big bright eyes that wavered between green and grey, her face was round, her mouth small, and her nose button like. Yet, she was a sarcastic girl of twenty-two with the mouth of a sailor and the temperament of a surly biker. She was the perfect personal assistant for him.
"I wish you would call her back, Nick. It's been three weeks; what could she have possibly done to make you so angry?" He didn't answer, as usual. Katie had become accustomed to his response regarding Celeste as of late. He didn't take her calls and refused to discuss what had happened between them to make him freeze her out the way he had.
But how could he? How could he say that the reason he was upset was because she had slept with another man, but not just any man. Karim. Seeing her melt into another man's arms was like a dagger to his heart, knowing she had spent the night with him had been painful, but to know that she had opened herself so completely to someone else was unbearable.
In all honesty, he had no right to be upset. Celeste wasn't his wife or even his girlfriend, she was a friend, a good friend, his best friend but still just a friend. He couldn't forget the image of Karim in the obvious aftermath of love making. Mostly, he thought he was upset because he was with her day in and day out, yet she never saw him as anything more than good old reliable Nicky, her sounding board and her rock, but he had been there before Karim and he would be thereafter.
"At least call your family, they've been calling you nonstop." Katie distractedly took her phone from her pocket and stared at it. "Your car is here. Call your family... and call Celeste. Stop being a dick. She's your best friend, so what if she's got a boyfriend now," she mumbled and he looked at her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Don't give me that look. She has a boyfriend and you're jealous because it should have been you," she said.
"I never said …" he started and she looked up, her cute face in its perpetual scowl.
"You didn't have to. Men, you're so easy to read. If you wanted it to be you, you should've made a move. Don't get pissy with her because some other guy beat you to it. You drinking yourself blind every night and being the world's biggest man-whore isn't going to solve anything. Call her and stop being such a girl. Besides," she said, leaving the bedroom to answer the knock at the door. "You'll still be around long after this relationship implodes. Boyfriends are temporary, best friends are eternal.” Nicky managed a rueful laugh as he watched the spritely girl open the door to allow the bellman in.
"Maybe I should be dating you," he teased and she shook her head.
"Nah. Even if I were into guys, you're still too big of a pussy for me. Call your family!" He couldn't help but laugh. Leave it to little Katie to give him a much needed kick in the ass.
***
The phone was ringing, she could hear it, but dear god she wasn't able to answer it. Instead, she reached out blindly and knocked it off of the nightstand, hoping to dull the annoying buzzing. It fell to the carpet, the constant ring muted, and she relented to yet another wave of pure bliss. She sank her fingers into Karim's feather soft tresses, her thighs tightening around his shoulders as his mouth continued its delicious torture. His fangs brushed against her, sending a tremor through her, and she arched up, her hips rising to meet his ever tormenting tongue.
He placed a palm on her taut stomach, holding her still so he could continue the assault, making her writhe against him, her breath a startled gasp. When he grazed the tightened nub at her center with his teeth, a long deep moan escaped her. When he began to gently suckle that same nub, she went liquid, her body bucking against her orgasm. Her response encouraged him to continue until she was incoherent, her body feeling wonderfully boneless and weak. The phone began its incessant buzzing on the carpet and he lifted his head, slightly annoyed.
"Are you going to answer that, azizam?" he breathed against her thigh. "It's driving me to distraction." He ran the tips of his fingers over her outer thighs and she moaned. The sensation made her body heat again. He had learned her so well, it was unnerving.
"No, don't stop," she breathed, tugging on his hair in an attempt to steer him back to the throbbing heat at her core. She could feel his smile as he dropped warm kisses just below her belly button.
"As you wish," he said before his lips touched her again. She reached over her head, grasping at the headboard as her hips rose to meet every thrust of his tongue, every graze of those fangs against the tenderest part of her. She could feel him hesitate and she knew why. It had become routine with him, the need to sink his teeth into her, but never the will, something always stopped him.
"Do it," she said and he froze completely, his body tense, his breathing harsh. "Bite me, Karim." She pushed her hips upward, inviting him to do as he wished. "Please," she pleaded. He lowered his mouth again, when the intercom began to buzz like an alarm. Karim reared back so that he was kneeling between her thighs, his entire body coiled in frustration. He ran his hands through his hair and looked down at Celeste, who punched the mattress and whined.
"I can't," he said in frustration.
"No, no no," she yelled and Karim couldn't hide his smile. She sat up scooting closer so that she was nearly straddling him. "I'll get rid of whoever that is, you do
n't move." She kissed him, her hands cupping the back of his head. She could taste herself on his lips, and delved deeper, her tongue slipping into the warm sweetness there, her hips moving against the erection that pulled at his pajama bottoms. Finally, he grunted and grasped her hips, holding her still when the buzzer began again, this time in earnest, filling the apartment with the shrill ringing. She nipped his bottom lip with her fangs, drawing blood and quickly licking it away. "When I come back, it's your turn."
She sprang from the bed, still wearing the sundress she'd worn to class, letting the skirt fall around her calves.
She and Karim had fallen into a comfortable pattern in the three weeks they'd been together. She would wake every morning, go for a run, go to class and do her homework until Karim rose. They would go out, see the city as soon as the sun set, then spend the night either in his apartment or hers. Some nights, they would stay in so he could paint and she would cook or they would order in. Some days he would wake early and watch a movie with her, just so they could spend time together. She was amazed by how normal, how comfortable and easy they had become.
They spent hours watching monster movies, laughing and making jokes and throwing popcorn at the television, like a couple of kids. He knew about her dreams, the sweaty, sex laden dreams that woke her panting and wanting more. He was more than willing to give it, taking advantage whenever the opportunity presented itself. After a night making spaghetti together, she discovered that he loved garlic. So that shattered that myth. He realized, as she tried to force them down one night at dinner that Celeste hated, absolutely hated raw oysters. And when they made love, it was slow, deliberate and careful, him usually letting her take the lead, relenting when she needed to be rough. But when he initiated love-making, he took his time, making sure she felt wanted and beautiful and protected.
Mark of the Fallen: A Fallen Novel Page 19