Wicked Soul

by Nora Ash

  Unfortunately for me, I chose neither.

  With a happy hum I looked over my shoulder so I could nuzzle my face against his, before I lazily threw an arm back to hook it around his neck.

  “Your brother thinks you drink my blood,” I murmured as I bent my knees a little so I could sway my hips to the music. Pressed up against him as I was, I could feel the fabric of his pants and the hardness of his flesh against my backside, and a hot thrill rushed through my veins. With a flick of my hair I arched my neck back, provokingly displaying my neck to him. “Have I been a bad friend by not offering?”

  Warin went rigid behind me, his arm around my waist constricting even tighter. “Liv…”

  I laughed, delighted by the slightly tortured note to his voice. "Told you I was a friendly drunk.”

  “I remember.” It was a mix between a laugh and a growl against my ear, and it made my skin break out into goosebumps.

  I twisted around in his arm that was still wound around my midsection so I could face him. "Hello you," I teased, noticing the darkness of his eyes and deciding to see if I could push him a little further. Because Drunk Liv is a apparently moron.

  I gave him a saucy wink and tipped my head back, arching until my hips pressed into his as I slid my hands over his soft, gray, V-necked shirt, relishing in the feel of his hard muscles underneath it.

  He shot the hand that wasn't holding my drunk form up out and grabbed me by the back of my neck, pulling me back up with a jerk. Growling low, he pressed my ear close to his mouth. "You are drunk." There was a clear, dark warning in his voice.

  It should probably have scared me.

  But it didn't.

  And I leaned in and bit down on his shoulder. Hard.

  A hiss erupted from him, and both the arm around my waist and the hand on my neck pulled me harder against him for a second, making my entire, drunken body shiver with delicious want. It wasn’t just his muscles that were hard now.

  Purring like a cat in heat, I opened my mouth to nibble at the place where his neck met his shoulder, but he caught my neck before I could, pulling me back. "Stop that. Right now."

  I pulled my head away, feeling entirely too pleased with the roughness in the vampire’s voice—until my eyes met his. They were pitch-black.

  Oh. Maybe I’d gone a step too far? A small part of my intoxicated brain felt a flutter of fear just as he grabbed my arm and dragged me through the crowd, up to the bar.

  “Settle my bill,” he snarled at the barman.

  The man jumped a little, probably also freaked out by the predatory sound, and disappeared to fetch Warin’s card with swifter-than-average speed.

  “Liv, are you all right?” A warm hand landed on my shoulder, and I turned toward its owner with a start. Dennis, my boss from Dark Dreams.

  “Dennis!” I broke out in a grin at his unexpected appearance. “I had no idea you went to fancy nightclubs!”

  Dennis didn’t return my smile, his face tight as he glared over my shoulder. At Warin, I realized. The absurdity of my very human boss glaring down a nightwalker finally made his question click. He thought I was in trouble.

  “Yeah, yes, I’m fine. Good, really.” I beamed even brighter at him to ensure he knew I was being honest. And I was. The fact that Warin had remembered something so earthly as paying for my multitude of drinks meant he was in full control, despite his growling response to my teasing.

  I gave his hand a small squeeze. “You remember Dennis, right Warin?”

  Warin just stared him down, not bothering to respond. Dennis lifted his chin ever so slightly, a silent challenge.

  Men.

  I could have kissed the bartender when he pushed Warin’s card at him, interrupting the staring contest.

  “Come.” Warin’s voice was still rough as he tugged on my hand, turning his back on Dennis without another look. “We need to get you home.”

  I stumbled after him as he maneuvered us through the crowd faster than my drunk legs could manage with any form of grace. Only when we were out in the cold and so far down the street the music from Isla could no long be heard in the night did he slow down and release his grip on me.

  “Jeez, that was so rude,” I scolded, even if I couldn’t hold back a giggle at the grouchy look on Warin’s face. It looked downright adorable, and I leaned in to pinch his cheek. I managed to trip over my own feet and halfway fall against him in the process. “You’re really cute when you’re sulking, Mr. Vampire, but you should be nicer to my friends. Dennis hasn’t done anything to you.”

  Warin lifted me back onto my feet, keeping a grip on my elbow to help me stay balanced. “He wants to fuck you. The night I met you at the bar, he was planning to take advantage of you.”

  I snorted at that absolutely ridiculous statement. “Dennis? Don’t be ridiculous! He’s completely harmless and so nice. It’s not everyone would hire a stray alley cat like me, and he did, no questions asked.”

  Warin only breathed in deeply and began to walk toward where he’d parked his car without responding.

  "So… we're done dancing, then?" I sighed as I stumbled along beside him, thankful for the support of his grip.

  It wasn't meant to be a taunt, but it nevertheless earned me a dark glare. “Yes.”

  "Bore," I said, blowing a raspberry in his general direction. “I love dancing. Oooh, I know what we should do! You should fly me up to the highest skyscraper in Chicago and dance with me! It’ll be like we are dancing among the stars!”

  Cool fingers ghosted against my cheek in a light caress. “If there is anyone I could dance among the stars with, Liv, it’d be you.”

  “Is that a yes?” My own voice came out as a hoarse whisper as a familiar, electric heat radiated through me from his cool touch.

  But when I turned my head to look at him, there was only regret in his eyes, and not an ounce of the dark heat from before.

  “No, little one. There’ll be no more dancing for you and me. Not tonight, nor any of the nights to come.” He gently touched his thumb to my lower lip before he removed his fingers from my face, leaving me feeling hollow. “Come. You need to sleep, and I need to speak with my brother.”

  17

  When I woke up the next afternoon, it was to the sensation of something having crawled down my throat to die, and a hangover that made me wish for death.

  Groaning, I rolled over onto my side and grasped for the glass of water on my nightstand.

  Warin had put it there after he halfway carried me in the door, I vaguely recalled, while I’d been fighting to get out of my dress and into my PJs in the bathroom, singing one of the songs from the club at the top of my lungs.

  And that’s when the rest of the night came back to me, in way too crystal clear high-definition.

  I choked on the water as an involuntary whimper made it past my lips at the recollection of rubbing myself all over Warin. When the memory of biting his shoulder caught up with me, I crawled back underneath the duvet, wishing a black hole would open up underneath me.

  Why? Why, did I do that?

  The answer was glaringly obvious, and did nothing to ease my flaming humiliation.

  I wanted Warin. And not as a friend.

  He was a vampire, and it wasn’t possible—and even if it were, just the thought of opening myself up to him like that… of being vulnerable with the one person I trusted so completely… it made my skin crawl with fear. I recalled the moment in his arms the night before, when I’d realized how right it felt, how I was supposed to be in his embrace, safe from all the horrors of the world… And the thought of losing that because I couldn’t keep my pants on filled me with more dread than I knew how to deal with.

  Thankfully, he had turned my less-than-subtle offer down.

  I knew what he’d meant when he’d told me we wouldn’t be dancing among the stars together. He’d said what Sober Liv already knew, but Drunk Liv apparently didn’t care about.

  We would never be more than friends.

  Groaning, w
ith humiliation and irrational sorrow alike, I finally managed to shove my duvet aside so I could crawl out. There was no reason to be sad—I should have been thankful he’d stopped me from making the worst mistake of my life. There was, however, every reason to be filled to the brim with self-hatred, so at least I had that part down.

  I finished my glass of water and staggered to the shower, hoping the spray would wash away my shame. And my hangover too, while it was at it.

  It didn’t. Though to be fair, there’s probably only so much you can expect out of a shower when it comes to fixing your bad decisions.

  I got into a fresh pair of PJs, because today was so not going to be a grown-up clothes sorta day, and went to hunt down my phone. I’d kind of left Raven behind without a second thought last night, and while I didn’t have a lot of experience with having friends, I knew that was a pretty shitty thing to do.

  My phone was on my kitchen counter where I’d thrown it after coming in last night, and the display showed a missed call. From my mother.

  This day just kept getting better and better.

  Ignoring the little unanswered call icon in the top corner of the display, I quickly typed out a text to Raven, apologizing for leaving without saying anything and asking if she made it home all right. Then I went hunting through my cupboards, only to find them emptier than a vampire’s grave.

  Who went for a night out without first stocking up on hangover food? This idiot, apparently.

  A beep from my phone broke my contemplations on whether I could afford to order takeaway or not. It was a reply from Raven.

  * * *

  No worries. Ran into Dennis. Hey, I always wondered - does the D stay cold, or does friction heat things up?

  Followed by an eggplant and winky-face emoji.

  Lovely. But for someone with her ingrained vampire hate, maybe Raven giving me shit for the way I threw myself at Warin last night was actually a positive thing.

  * * *

  Nothing happened. Yeah, I saw Dennis briefly too. I didn’t realize he was the clubbing type tbh. Glad you got home OK!

  Her response was almost immediate. It was an eggplant emoji followed by a sad smiley.

  Two seconds later, another text beeped in:

  * * *

  Most witches go to Isla. He comes there regularly enough.

  * * *

  I blinked. I hadn’t realized Dennis was a witch. I told her as much, and asked if he was part of her coven too.

  * * *

  Really? He owns a New Age shop called Dark Dreams. I thought it was obvious ;) Not from our coven though. Dunno which one he belongs to, he’s kinda secretive about it.

  * * *

  Well, huh. Apparently everyone and their uncle was a witch these days. Before I could ask her if Skye was in on the supernatural bandwagon too, my phone buzzed to life in my palm, making me grimace with the sharp sound of the factory setting ringtone. I really should change that.

  When I saw the name of the caller, I grimaced again. It would seem Mom wasn’t gonna let me ghost her today.

  With a heavy sigh, I answered.

  “Olivia, did you just get out of bed?”

  "Hi, Mom. How are you?"

  "You know only bums and drug addicts sleep until the afternoon." The sharpness of her voice more than indicated her continued belief that I was most definitely in the former of those two categories. Not that that was anything new.

  I glanced at the clock—four thirty. "I went out last night… and I didn't just get up."

  "Oh, God forbid! Are you an alcoholic now?"

  "No, Mom. It was just a nice night out with some friends," I sighed, dragging myself over to my couch so I could at least be comfortable while I got nagged. “How’re things with you and Randy, anyway?”

  Randy, her boyfriend of nearly a year, was her favorite subject and the easiest way to get her off my ass, and as per usual, my mom happily switched gears without another thought of her alcoholic bum of a daughter’s life.

  I halfway listened while she talked and talked, about everything from every excruciating detail about every load of laundry she’d done in the two months since we spoke last, as well as which neighbors she was currently feuding with. The Delawares, turned out to be the answer to the last one, due to their dogs barking in the mornings.

  I put The Bachelor on—muted with subtitles—settled in for the long haul.

  * * *

  When my door buzzer went off some three hours later, I was still on the phone with her.

  "Mom, hang on a moment, someone's at the door," I tried interrupting her steady stream of words as I got up from the couch. She ignored me and continued talking about the new dance class her and her boyfriend attended every Thursday.

  I rolled my eyes and trudged over to open the door, phone still pressed against one ear. Expecting Roy to pop in for a cup of coffee or to borrow the toilet, I pressed the button and opened my front door, while still mm-hmming into the phone.

  Only the man on the other side of the door wasn’t my giant bodyguard. It was Warin—with a pizza box tucked under one arm.

  I stared at him with a rising sense of panic and mortification, frantically debating if I could just slam the door in his face and maybe he’d go away so I didn’t have to deal with the shame of it all. However, before I could get my numbed brain to react, Warin said, "Good evening, Liv,” which finally made my mother stop mid-talk.

  “Was that a man?"

  Great.

  "Yeah, that was Warin.” Defeated, I stepped out of the doorway so he could get in.

  "Did he spend the night?” my mother gasped in horror.

  Doing my best not to groan, I pinched the bridge of my nose and nudged the door closed with my hip. "No, Mom. He just knocked on the door—remember when I said 'just a moment, someone's at the door'…"

  “Olivia Teresa Green! Do not take that tone with me! Who is this man who thinks it is appropriate to visit a young woman this late on a Saturday evening?"

  This late being seven thirty.

  I quietly counted down from ten. “Warin’s my friend. We met a few weeks ago.“

  "Yes, thank you, I am aware what sort of 'friend' you’re talking about!" she snapped.

  Somehow, I doubted it.

  "Mom... was there a reason you called?" I glanced at the pizza box Warin had set down on my kitchen counter. A promising scent of melted cheese emanated from it. "I'm starving, and the food is getting cold."

  "Aunt Edna is having a big family Thanksgiving meal this year, but because Aunt Gretchen is on call until late afternoon, we’re doing a dinner. I’m counting on you this year, Olivia—I’ve already told the family you’re coming.”

  I made the mistake of groaning out loud.

  “Olivia, you haven't been home for Thanksgiving for three years! It’s important that you come this year—Grandma has some news…" I instantly felt ashamed over the rush of happiness that went through me when the thought that the news might be that she was suffering from some fatal illness popped into my head. "… and it has started to get noted that you’ve not been back in Denver in ages." She paused briefly. "Shall I tell Edna that you’ll be coming on your own? Again? Or is there a gentleman you would like to bring? You know, your cousin Kathy has just gotten engaged, and to such a handsome young man."

  It is incredible what motherly pressure and years of growing up in a toxic environment can do to your sense of rationality.

  "No, I'll bring someone," I heard myself say.

  "Oh, good. I shall see you on the twenty-third. Seven p.m. sharp—don’t be late. Bye now!”

  I stared at my phone after she'd hung up. How did she do that? How did she wrap me around her little finger from a thousand goddamn miles away?

  "Your mother?"

  Warin’s soft voice made me cringe, the frustration with myself for falling for my mother’s manipulation taking a backseat to my more immediate mortification.

  Groaning, I hid my face behind my phone-free hand. “Please
, just don’t say anything, okay? I was really, really drunk last night, and I am sorry for being… ya know—“ Horny as fuck. “—out of line. I get handsy when I drink too much, and you got caught in the crossfire. So would you please, please do me a tremendous favor and pretend like it never happened? ‘Cause if you don’t, I think I have to murder you and bury your corpse out back, and then I’ll undoubtedly get myself arrested and it would just be a whole nightmare, okay?”

  Warin’s chuckle made me glance up from my hand.

  "As you wish.” He held up a hand in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t want you to get arrested.”

  I exhaled, grateful he was a much better person than me, and then shifted my attention to the pizza box. “So…?”

  “I thought you might be hungry. I’m told humans enjoy this kind of meal after consuming alcohol the previous night.” The look on his face said he found the idea revolting, but I could have kissed him regardless. I didn’t, though, because after last night, I wasn’t gonna risk him getting the wrong idea.

  “Fuck yes, you’re the absolute best! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I dove for the box, and practically drooled at the sight of the beautiful deep-pan Hawaiian pizza inside. No idea how he got lucky enough to guess my favorite toppings, not that I cared. Right then, all I wanted was to stuff my mouth with delicious pineappley goodness. “You better look away—this is gonna get gross.”

  I grabbed the first slice with my hands, not bothering with such banalities as a plate, or even sitting down. Moaning with food-pleasure I shoved slice after slice in, leaning over the kitchen counter like a feral dog.

  It wasn’t until I was in the process of licking my fingers after having devoured the final slice of pizza that I realized that Warin—the giant asshole—was leaning against the kitchen sink, watching me like I was some kind of zoo attraction. His expression was a mix between surprise and amusement.