“Stay in this shithole? Are you fucking serious?” Jason snapped in his natural fashion.
“Why not? Ben and Carla already said you can stay until you’re set up. Why don’t you accept their offer?”
“You really don’t know, do you?” he asked, shaking his head. He turned back to throwing his clothes into a garbage bag, muttering something about people being willfully blind but Brone did not understand what he was saying.
“Know what?” he pressed his foster brother. Over the years, Brone had learned to accept Jason as his new family, but he never had quite learned to trust the slightly older boy.
Jason smirked, a cruel, mirthless expression and it chilled Brone to his toes.
“Ben murdered your little retarded sister.”
The world whipped around his head as the words reverberated through his ears like a rush of water.
“Shut up, Jason! How can you talk about Lilyanna that way? Anyway, how would you know that?” Brone croaked, his face gray with sick. This time, Jason’s smile was real.
“Because Spence and I were there when he did it. I helped.”
***
Someone was knocking on the door. Brone pulled the pillow over his head and willed them away silently, but the knock was becoming more insistent, urgent. Suddenly, Brone broke into sweats as he realized that it was the police. The girl. She sold me out to the police. Are my fingerprints in the apartment? My DNA? I must run! Brone jumped from the bed and peered out the window. It was night, blackness blanketing a moonless sky. The fire escape was his only hope, but he feared there would be surveillance below the landing. Will they shoot me? He wondered, jamming his legs into a pair of black jeans and grabbing his jacket. He stuffed his feet into his shoes and bolted for the window. Again, the pounding on the door increased, and as he pried open the glass, he heard a plaintiff's voice call out.
“Brone! Please allow me to enter!” Brone froze, a mix of emotions flowing through him. It’s Lilah. Forsaking his initial plan, he ran into the apartment and unlocked the door. Lilah smiled at him, and Brone felt all his anxiety dissipate.
“Come in,” he said, recovering from the sight of her in his doorway. She obliged, gingerly stepping across the threshold. She turned to face him as he secured the door and began turning on lights in the dark apartment, but she stopped him.
“Leave the lighting,” she told him. Uncomfortably, he folded his arms, unsure of what else to do and stared at her.
“You killed them,” he blurted out. “You really killed them!”
“Yes,” Lilah answered. “I see you believe my words now.”
“But why? Why would you do that?” he asked disbelievingly. Lilah smiled again and reached for his hand. He uncrossed his arms and allowed her to grasp his palms in her cold fingers. She gazed into his eyes and again the two were locked in some parallel universe that was both there yet not there.
“I did it for you,” she replied simply. Instinctively, Brone understood, but he did not know why.
“Now I need you to do something for me,” she told him. He nodded quickly. He needed to even the score between them, but he could not imagine what Lilah could possibly want from him. He needed to find out. She had ended his crusade to avenge Lilyanna’s death. He would do anything she asked.
“Tell me what you need from me.”
“I need you to make me human.”
Part II
Chapter Five
He watched in horror as his best friend was wrenched from his house, the soldiers beating him about the head and shoulders, laughing.
“Not so powerful now, are you, Souloite?” they taunted as blood poured from Emre’s ears. Tariq stood back in the shadows of the forest, barely breathing. He resisted the urge to help his people. The act would result in certain death or capture. The Turks were ruthless, stabbing at everyone in their midst. Lines of men and women stood broken in shackles, row upon row of his neighbors and friends. He could not bear to watch anymore, but before he could shift his eyes and flee into the sanctuary of the woods, he saw his mother. She is unharmed! Tariq thought, his mind torpedoing with ways to save her. Ercan and Lilah run with her, somehow escaping the clutches of the bloodthirsty Turks, intent on destroying all in their wake. Tariq stole through the treeline, keeping his family in view as he dodged through the dense fir gully. Branches scratched at his handsome face indiscriminately, and when he finally reached the cliffs, it was too late. He stared in paralyzing shock at Ercan’s face as it disappeared over the side, his mother grinning in the heat of madness. The soldiers were momentarily stunned at the grotesque display of the village women sweeping off to their deaths in the middle of song and dance while their children struggled from their grasps uncomprehendingly. Tariq’s hand flew to his mouth. He heard Lilah’s screams, but he had already begun to descend the side of the mountain, toward the furious waters below. The soldiers would capture Lilah. She would suffer a fate worse than death at their hands. The terrifying image of his brother falling replayed over and over in Tariq’s head as he scurried down the treacherous mountainside toward the water. In his haste, he ventured into a colony of bats, alert for the prowl in the cloak of darkness. He reached up too late to shoo them from his face, but they had already set their sights on his flesh. As they descended upon him, wings fluttering obscenely, he thought he saw a set of glowing human eyes emerge from their depth, a figure in a dark shroud approaching but Tariq fell unconscious, attacked by the swarm of irate nocturnal beasts.
When he regained his sight, he was no longer afraid. Silence surrounded him and he gazed about with new eyes. Slowly, he ventured to his feet and found he was surprisingly agile. As if he had not been interrupted, he continued toward the Ionian Sea. He knew he was too late to find his family alive, but with unusual keenness, he made his way to jagged rock formation below. The shore was littered with dozens of bodies, women with children deceased in their embrace. His eyes sought out Lilah amongst the corpses as if she called. Seeming to float above the water, he was at her side, touching her delicate face as she clung to life, saved only by the bodies of the others before her. He leaned over her sweet face but felt nothing, as if all his emotion had been drained from his body. Suddenly, Lilah jerked upward and began to scream, her shrill wails echoing pitifully against the rocks. Even then, Tariq mustered no emotion. He stared down at his fair, blonde sister and stroked her cheek.
“Shh,” he told her. “You’re safe now. You’re safe.”
As if possessed by an entity unseen, Tariq’s lips made his way to the small of Lilah’s throat, baring his teeth. He stabbed into her tender skin without remorse, acting on instinct rather than emotion, knowing that he was required to save his sister and this was the only way.
***
Lilah had stayed in the confines of her coffin for the remainder of the night and for the better part of the following day. She was aching to move, but she dared not leave. She feared that Tariq would sense her unease which only seemed to mount with each passing moment. How could I have been so wrong about the mortal? She asked herself. I felt connected to him. When have I ever felt connected to someone else? She had been so young in Souli, so inexperienced in the way of the world. It was not until she had been turned that she began to understand the emotions she was born to feel, senses that would never materialize because of her immortal status. But Brone had awakened a fire within her, and she could not let it go despite his resolve to keep her away.
It was not until Tariq stormed into her bedchambers at dusk the following evening did Lilah reluctantly rise.
“Did you feast on an entire family last night?” he demanded, his eyes blazing. Lilah blinked and focused her aquamarine eyes on him.
“Perhaps,” she responded. “Why does that matter?”
He leaned over her casket and pulled her from the velvet-lined box, his fist firmly clenched about the collar of her shirt.
“You left the scene a disaster! What possessed you to do such a sloppy deed?”
L
ilah tried to recall how she had exited the apartment, but all she could remember was running away, sniffing the air for Brone’s pheromones. Tariq was likely correct; she had not disposed of the evidence properly but what difference could it make? They were untouchable. She said as much, infuriating her brother further.
“That is hardly the point, Lilah!” he screamed. “You are casting suspicion on our people.”
Lilah laughed, slapping his strong hands from her shirt.
“Our people?” she echoed. “We are our people. Or have you not noticed, Tariq? When was the last time you encountered another immortal?”
His full mouth is pressed into a stringy line, and he shifts his gaze from my defiant question.
“There are no more of us,” Lilah continued, hopping from her bed, slamming the lid down with a loud thud. “I would not concern myself with a backlash of vampire outrage at my actions.”
“You cannot know that for certain,” Tariq muttered, but he refused to meet his sister’s flashing eyes. She snorted.
“We cannot know if Ercan died for certain that day either, can we? Yet we both accept him as having died that terrible eve.”
Shocked, Tariq stared at his sibling, his mouth agape. They had never once spoken of the night in Zalongo, not for over two centuries. Realizing that her brother was finally at a loss for words, Lilah seized the opportunity to leave. Suddenly it seemed unimportant that Brone had acted so uncouthly toward her. Anything had to be better than succumbing to a life of eternal nothingness. She wanted to feel again. Lilah longed for the sun on her face and passion in her veins. There is a reason that man has appeared to me, she told herself as she flew down the steps. It is time. He is the one who will make me mortal again.
***
Brone stared at the innocent faced blonde at the door, trying to understand what she meant by the phrase “make me human.”
They sat on the sofa, eternally lost in one another’s eyes as if nothing else existed around them. Lilah did not know where to start. She had never disclosed her true identity to anyone. Tariq had been the closest person to a confidant that she had ever had in two hundred years. In the dozens of countries they had taken refuge within, the hundreds of countries, Lilah had never formed a bond with anyone long enough to consider such an act. Tariq would feel betrayed if he were to ever learn what she was doing but Lilah could stand no more. The only emotion she could feel was despair, a deep pit of unfillable emptiness. She sensed her sanity was beginning to slip away and she was falling into the misanthropic lunacy which seemed to have claimed her predecessors. This is what occurs when you live in seclusion for too long. Immortal, I will harden and wither away with bitterness. I cannot allow for that to happen. She dared not think of how her brother would react if she succeeded in her quest. Will he try to turn me back? Lilah forced the question from her mind and regarded Brone, carefully choosing her words.
“I am not mortal,” she told him slowly, averting her gaze from his face. She expected certain scorn from the man.
“What does that mean?” Brone asked skeptically. “You’re a goddess? Lilah, if you’re trying to play head games with me, I should warn you that I have way more experience in this shit than you do.”
She sighed heavily and tried to think of another way to explain.
“I am no goddess,” she murmured. “I…do not feel.”
Brone continued to stare at her, waiting but slowly the cynicism was fading from his crystalline irises.
“What do you mean?” he pressed. “What do you mean you don’t feel?”
Lilah was beginning to lose her desire to tell him. I made a mistake. I must be losing control of my faculties already. It is too late for me. I must accept my fate and move on. She abruptly rose to her feet.
“I have made a mistake,” she echoed her thoughts. “I apologize. You will not see me again.”
Immediately, Brone was on his feet, stopping her.
“No,” he said. “No, I don’t think you believe you made a mistake. I want you to explain what you mean.”
Lilah began to shake her head, but Brone grabbed her by the arms and began to shake her.
“You are done being elusive,” he snarled. “You will tell me what you want to say. You will explain to me what you’re doing here and what you want from me. I’ve had enough of this mystery!”
Lilah tried to yank away from his grasp, but to her surprise, she was just as unable to move as she was the first time she had encountered him at St. Michael’s Ca. She had dismissed that weakness as her hunger, but this time she had no excuse. She was well fed and alert, yet she was powerless against his grip.
“Unhand me!” she demanded, her heart thumping strangely in her chest.
“No!” he snapped back, pulling her toward him. “Not until you tell me what I want to know. I deserve that much.”
“I cannot feel anything!” she yelled back. To her astonishment, tears filled her eyes.
She was filled with fear and despair. I am feeling! She realized, dizzy with the comprehension of what was happening to her. Brone’s face was a mask of fury. He grabbed the back of her neck and forced his mouth onto hers, the action catching her completely off guard. She tried to struggle backward, but he held her tightly, his hard kiss softening. Lilah’s heart was hammering, a heady, woozy sensation overwhelming her. She was certain she was about to faint in the firm clutches of this stranger who had inexplicably drawn her to him.
“Brone,” she gasped, attempting to withdraw but he held fast and continued to explore her mouth with his hot tongue. When his teeth gently bit her own tongue, Lilah instantaneously recognized the danger of their embrace. A familiar ache claimed her gums and her teeth began to throb. I cannot allow this to proceed, Lilah thought, but she was feeble in his arms.
“Can you feel this?” he hissed, pressing his body against her. Lilah could only sigh in response. She relished the contours in his slender but toned frame. Her hands reached out to encircle his back. She could feel the muscles rippling beneath the dark t-shirt he wore. Closer he moved and his hardness pushed against her crotch. His hands moved lower, one remaining on her arm as if he feared that she would flee upon release. He cupped her small buttocks in one large hand, massaging it gently and her hips began to circle slowly, maneuvering the form of his shaft against her thin, cotton pants. His hand followed her rhythm, allowing for her to dry hump his hardness. He dropped his hand from her shoulder now, lifting her shirt to touch her rigid nipples. Lilah’s incisors grew outwardly, and she knew it would only be moments before she plunged her own teeth into his fair, unsuspecting skin. I can turn him. He will be mine forever if I turn him, she thought, a sweet wetness dampening between her legs as their grinding quickened. His fingers were tracing over her taut breast, but before Lilah could succumb to temptation and claim Brone, he spun her around, bending her over the sofa. She landed face first into the pillows, her track pants around her ankles. Before she could protest, a soft, velvety tongue plunged into her. A moan escaped her lips as Brone explored her soft, pulsating holes, his fingers teasingly tracing over the openings. His mouth settled on her throbbing button and he latched on like a suckling pig, the tip of his tongue flicking gently as his digits slipped into her, prodding both of her virginal crevices. Lilah dug her face into the cushions, her teeth razor sharp and gnashing. Her body tightened as she reached the ecstatic heights of climax. Brone was two fingers in, his face soaked in juice as Lilah exploded, screaming ferally. Brone lapped up the nectar which had trickled down her thighs, and Lilah tried to turn over, but he held her in place, one hand slipping his own pants just low enough to release his solid erection. Without a word, he jammed himself into her and Lilah’s screams could be heard reverberating throughout the complex as Brone took her virginity ruthlessly. Lilah was writhing beneath him, a flurry of pleasure and pain, bucking backward against his merciless cock and clawing to get away in unison. She felt herself begin to release again as Brone grabbed her tiny waist, holding them in place and spu
rting deeply into her waiting depth. He continued to rock himself in, shooting out endless streams of hot cum. Lilah was shaking when he withdrew. She could not bring herself to look at him, but he had disappeared to the bathroom. Her head was pounding, blood rushing furiously through her body and she forced herself to collect her clothes. When he returned, she was fully dressed, her eyes not betraying an ounce of the emotion flooding her body.
“So, what was that you were saying about being unable to feel?” he asked innocently.
“You didn’t feel any of that?”
Lilah felt her eyes narrow at his smugness.
“Yes, I felt that,” she conceded, perching on the edge of the sofa. “I felt a great deal there.”
“Okay, so I guess you’re human again?” he asked, smirking. To her annoyance, he flipped on the television, almost as if he was dismissing her.
“No, I am not,” she replied quietly.
“Oh no? Well give me ten minutes, and I’ll try again.”
“Brone, I am a vampire.”
He choked and coughed. Then he looked to the heavens as if wondering why the gods were mocking him.
“Well, geez, Lilah, why didn’t you just say so?” he asked sarcastically. “I have a totally different position for making vampires human.”
Lilah did not smile.
“There is only one way to make me human. You must kill me, Brone.”
Chapter Six
Tariq could smell the change in Lilah. He had felt is coming for months, but he had not been able to pinpoint the issue precisely. She had always had a propensity for sadness, but he had been unable to shake the ominous sense that he was losing her sister. That is ridiculous, he told himself. How could I lose her? She has only me, and she is immortal. No one knows how to kill her. Despite his incessant warnings to Lilah that she was not indestructible, he had long since come to terms with the fact that she, like him, was precisely that. She had stared certain death in the face on more occasion than he could count and walked away unscathed. Yet even with those thoughts, he could not calm his well-honed intuition. She was slipping away from him, and something told him he was powerless to stop it.
The Campus Jock: A College Bad Boy Romance Page 36