by Nina Auril
When he fills me he doesn’t fill only my body; he fills my soul, my heart, and my insane mind. When our breaths slow down with our tangled bodies there aren’t any voices in my mind but his and the desire to have a future with him.
Flint
I look down at our entangled hands, tightening my grip as I smile down at her face. She’s beautiful standing there with her wild eyes in her short white dress whipping around her thighs in the wind. I told her the angel wings weren’t necessary, she insisted.
We left the motel after we got cleaned up, in a cloud of euphoria, caught in the emotions we invoked in each other. We weren’t able to keep our hands off each other until we reached the bike, and even then I was swallowed whole by the feel of her all around me.
I found the farm on our stolen phone’s GPS app. We’d been heading this way the whole time without even realizing it, like it was predestined. We were meant to be here. We stopped the bike on the side of the road so nobody would be alerted to our arrival by the sound of the engine, and walked up here in silence. Neither of us had said a single word, we didn’t need to. We both knew what we came here to do.
While Avalon went to check out the main house, I headed towards the shed out back. The house was dark but there was light coming from the shed. Nobody seemed to have cared about maintaining the old shed. The few smatterings of paint that was left was flaking leaving the wood mostly bare to the elements. The sun had dried up the wood and termites and wood borers have worked their way into it. From memory I knew that is where they always were, busy shooting up or counting the dealer’s money. I peeked through one of the windows. The floor was covered in hay, dirt and random garbage. Filthy. Equipment and chemicals to make their drugs took up every inch of space. I smiled. All of this would make this place light up in seconds. My parents were in there, just as I suspected, but the dealer and two of his bodyguards being present was a nice surprise.
“That them?” Avalon asked when she came to stand next to me to peer into the window.
“Y...y--y-y.” I shook my head in frustration. I wasn’t stuttering because I was anxious or afraid like all the other times. No, this time, I was stuttering because I was so damn excited.
Maybe that should have been a red flag, being excited about killing my own parents, but I didn’t care. I know what all the doctors said, the police, anyone unlucky enough to have ever met me. That I was crazy, insane, troubled. I know I’m all of those things, but standing here with Avalon, I’m proud of what I am. I don’t need to hide anymore.
“Ready?” She smiles up at me.
I bring our intertwined hands to my lips so I can kiss hers and nod. “Ready.”
“I got this from the house.” She points over her shoulder to where the house stands in the distance and hands me a bottle of alcohol. I take another walk around the shed, making sure all the doors are secured by either a lock on the outside or a discarded piece of metal shoved through the handles. The windows have never been able to open and by the time the fire lights up all the chemicals inside and makes them explode, it will be too late for the assholes inside to escape. I come to a stop next to Avalon again in front of a low window. I dig out the knife in my pocket and cut off a piece off my shirt, after stuffing it inside the bottle, I set fire to one end of the drenched cloth. Pulling back my arm, I throw the bottle at the window. The sound of shattering glass is followed by screams of anger and confusion. And then the whole place goes up in flames.
I pull Avalon back to a safe distance while those screams of anger turn to ones of fear. We stand there watching, listening, waiting for the inevitable explosion to hit. Avalon starts to giggle beside me, enraptured by the flames swallowing the wooden walls of the shed and my own laughter bursts through my chest as she dances around in the smoke. She looks like some kind of nymph or fairy tale goddess, arms in the sky and head thrown back in joy. She’s so beautiful. I can hardly believe my own luck. My whole life I thought I was alone, missing a piece, my soul mate. But who could ever love a monster like me? And yet, here she is. The other part of me, more pure and beautiful than I could have ever imagined.
The explosion sounds behind her, eliciting another peal of laughter from her. Then she looks at me, flames reflecting in her eyes, serene smile on her face and all I can do is look at her. She stops her dancing and walks towards me slowly.
“Are you happy?” She asks when she reaches me.
I nod and return her smile. “Yes, are you happy?” I return her question.
Her hands reach up to cup my face. “Never thought I’d be this happy. I think I may just explode from it.”
Then I take her mouth, I kiss her with all the passion I can muster, hoping that this kiss conveys all I want to say.
I love you. I adore you. I need you.
Our kiss changes. The tenderness in our lips makes way for animalistic desire. The way it always does with us. The way I always hope it will. I lay her down on the grass and angle myself between her thighs. With the flames lighting up the sky I pull the knife from my pocket again. I trail the edge of knife slowly up her thighs, watching the flames flicker in her eyes alongside her excitement. I slip the knife into the side of her cotton panties and with a quick flick of my wrist, I cut it open. I run the tip of the knife across her belly, smiling at her sharp intake of breath. I drag the knife down her cotton covered pussy and up again to cut through the other side of them. I fist my hand into the cotton and pull them off her. I run my fingers over her glistening pussy. “Already so wet for me, Avalon?”
I smile as I lean over her, placing the knife tip at her throat I take her mouth. She moans into my mouth as I run the tip of knife down her collarbone and over her breasts. Her hips lift and grind into mine.
Our heat matches that of the fire still burning a few yards away from us. I can’t take it anymore. I am filled with so many emotions it’s hard to even think. I sit back up and rip her dress open. I look down at her, naked with only a pair of angel wings exposed to me.
I love this woman.
My angel.
We are fumbling limbs and grasping hands then, sucking lips and exploring tongues. We’re ravenous and wild. I take her until we’re both screaming in pleasure, until she clenches around me and I explode inside her, and as we lay there watching the smoke billow up into the night sky, there is no other place I’d rather be than here.
I’m here with her.
She’s here with me.
We are Thirteen.
Avalon
3 months later...
I lift the candle to my nose and breathe in its earthy scent before placing it on the table in our bedroom. I bought 13 candles for Flint to choose from to use on me tonight.
I squirm in my seat, remembering the last time we explored wax play. It was thrilling, magical, fun, and made me almost euphoric with pleasure. Whenever I let Flint use me as his plaything with hot wax, his face lights up like it’s Christmas. Though, we don’t like Christmas much. Halloween is our favorite, the time of the freaks, the time for all those who are haunted.
I unpack the last candle, a blood red one with a strong and intense scent, I can’t put my finger on. It teases my senses, makes me drunk on its fragrance. Poison, its name; my favorite.
Just when I’m about to make a ball of the newspaper I unwrapped the candle from, I notice the asylum we ran away from 3 months ago.
Tragic fire in asylum, the headline says.
I check the date on the paper, it’s from the day after we ran away. I quickly read the article in the local newspaper.
Last night a tragic accident happened at the city's criminal psychiatric institution. A fire that started by an unknown reason quickly engulfed the institute. Most of the patients have been safely transferred to the closest psychiatric hospital, but two guards were found dead in the fire and two patients are missing; police are continuing their investigating but so far all clues point to their possible death.
I snicker. They think we’re dead. Perfect.
&n
bsp; Then, I read the article again. They say two guards are dead. We only killed one guard that night. Well, intentionally. The other guard must have not got away fast enough. I hope it’s the one who beat Flint after he set the humming bird on fire. Trying to remember that night I count the bodies we left behind: two guards, the couple in the gas station, the guy we killed with chocolate (that was pretty fun, really), the assholes who tried to fuck me up, two bitches who were all over Flint, and the barbeque with his parents, the dealer and his fucking bodyguards… thirteen people.
I laugh loudly.
People call 13 an unlucky number, but for us 13 is our lucky charm, our happiness, our future.
“Baby?” I hear Flint holler for me. I quickly walk toward the door and close it behind me so he doesn’t see the surprise I’m preparing for him tonight. But my mouth dries the moment I see him. He’s shirtless, only wearing a leather apron that he insists all blacksmiths wear. It suits him, makes him even hotter. The sweat drips from his arms, licking every muscle on its way. His body gets stronger every day, his muscles more prominent now than the first day I saw him. Just with one look his way my knees go weak, he has me under his spell.
“Are you finished with those knives yet?” I ask, licking my lips when I see soot cover his fingers. He’s making a knife set for me, something that will symbolize our love and I can’t wait to see it. I saw some drawings of the design he thought of doing when he wasn’t in the atelier and it was breathtaking with 13 written on the knife haft and fire licking metal.
“Not yet, but soon,” he says, grinning with pride.
He loves working with metal and fire and he’s very talented. He likes putting raw things into shape, creating something from nothing and I love watching him do that. I like his fire; the fire in him, on him, and in his hands. The way it burns and tingles my skin. I love the way he licks every spot the hot wax hurt me and the way I come for him, each time more intense. But mostly, I love how he looks at me, every second of every day, like I’m his most prized possession.
“What’s in there?” he asks. He doesn’t stutter anymore, only sometimes when he’s too excited or too aroused and only for me. Those moments are just reserved to me. He is reserved just for me. My love, my sanity.
“A surprise for you,” I murmur, biting my lip as I look at him from under my lashes.
I smile when I see the fire behind his eyes, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. His reactions are my drug and I’m addicted to him.
“When will I see?” His voice husky, his arms wrapped around me to pull our bodies flush together. I moan when I feel his erection on my stomach, but I shake my head with a giggle.
“Not until tonight.”
He groans and kisses me, leaving me breathless in the best possible way. Finally, when I catch my breath I ask, “Why were you calling me?”
“Ah, right. I forgot. A couple came for you. They want you to read their future.” He smirks.
I snort. I’m a fortune teller now. We decided to settle on the farm we killed his parents on. Flint still had a contact a few towns over that set us up with new identities. After throwing most of the furniture out and breaking down walls, we found money in one of the walls. A lot of money. Enough to set us up for a few years yet. Apparently drug dealers don’t use banks. With his blacksmithing and my fortune telling supplementing all that money, we’d be set to live out our days here. It would be a simple life, but we’d be happy and free. Even though our farm is in the middle of nowhere, people come to me to hear about their future. Now, each day I can see clearer, each day I have more and more visions for the world, for the people who come to me, and for Flint and I… for us.
I head to the area where I meet with people, a smile on my face. My dad doesn’t speak to me as much anymore, but I can feel he is proud of me as I greet them, “Welcome to the Doors of Avalon. Come, sit down and let me tell you your future.”
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
People we won’t kill:
Our PA, Angela Evans. We definitely won’t kill her, but we can’t say the same for her.
Our beta readers: Staci, Beth, Crystal, Tre, Nancy, Amanda, Fran, and Victoria. Thank you. Your feedback was invaluable and made this book so much better.
Our cover designer, PopKitty Designs. Only you could make a masterpiece out of blood and gore.
Our editor, Jenny Dillion with Rather Be Reading and our proofreader, Amanda Hill with Mad as a Hatter Author Services. It’s hard concentrating on commas and grammar when you’re trying to figure out who to kill next.
And the Ladies of Indies Ink. It takes a special group of ladies to make this bloody mess marketable. Thank you for helping us spread the word.
And YOU! We definitely won’t kill you. We love our readers. You’re our 13.
AUTHOR INFO
NINA AURIL
A new secret author duo team up under the pseudonym, Nina Auril. They bonded over their love for ‘maybe’ bad boys, offbeat and colorful females, and a desperate need to stand out from a crowd. Having spent so much time with each other, they finally decided to collaborate and create something amazing to write the kind of stories they want to read. Nina Auril can’t be categorized, and will surprise you at every turn but promise to get your lady bits tingling every time.
NINA AURIL LINKS
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NINA AURIL BOOKS
Muse (Coming soon)
New Adult, Contemporary Romance
ABBY GALE
Abby Gale is an international author. She is an avid reader, former blogger, and a pharmacist. She writes whatever storyline sucks her in, but mostly her books will be erotica with some darkness in it.
ABBY GALE LINKS
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Other Books by Abby Gale
Violet, Club Nymphs #1
Erotica-Suspense-Romance
Menagé relationship
Angel, Club Nymphs #2
Dark erotica
Perfect Strangers
Contemporary Romance with a little bit of taboo
One Night Only
Based on a true story novella
One Special Love
Spin-off to One Night Only
(Ashton’s story)