Crave

by Serena Simpson

  Therapist: I need you to work with me.

  Leta: I stayed out after dark. (The dark really isn’t my problem. It’s the predators that thrive in it.)

  Therapist: That’s good. How did you feel?

  Leta: How the hell do you think I felt? (Oops I said that out loud)

  Therapist: (Frowns)

  Leta: (I stand up and cross the room until I’m standing in front of her. I crouched down until I’m in her personal space.)

  Leta: I was scared. I stood out in the open and waited to be attacked knowing that my life meant nothing. I could see it happening. A heavy body knocking me down. I could feel the hands on my body beating me until they pulled my clothes off. Then he raped me his dick plunging into me as his knife plunged into my chest. That’s how I felt. Can you help me?

  Therapist: (Her eyes were wide. Her mouth was opened as she sucked tiny breaths through her lips. She was aroused and appalled at the same time.)

  Leta: You’re a sick fuck. Look our time is over. (I back up and head for the door.)

  Therapist: I think we need to increase your meds!

  Yeah because all I need to be is higher than I already am. Who is following me? I duck my head and blend in with the foot traffic hoping whoever it is will leave me alone. And if pigs could fly…

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cole

  “What if our Intel is wrong, and he’s not going for anyone on the list?”

  I looked over at Noah. His face was pinched. Going after an alien psychopathic killer who eats his victims will do that to you. It didn’t help that two days ago we cleared the last potential male victims. That led us back to the drawing board unless we were seriously considering Leigh Taylor Anderson as a potential victim.

  “He’s going after someone on that list. Fuckin’ Naresh is a creature of patterns. He’s not about to shake what works for him. There’s no way he believes that you or I can get one step ahead of him.” I said in frustration.

  “You know him better than I do.”

  He may have a point since I hated him. I wasn’t willing to allow him one more life. I was also concerned (see scared in the dictionary). That if he weren’t stopped others like him would feel our planet was the perfect place to feed.

  Our planet. Yeah, when you start thinking about sinking your teeth into the neck of one of its citizens, it almost makes sense for you to adopt the planet. That’s the problem I was facing with every passing day. I wanted to bite Noah. Don’t worry I knew every reason that was impossible. I simply wasn’t listening to the voice of reason. I wanted to mate, but I needed my other third. It would take three of us to make this right, but I didn’t care. I’d rather have one then none.

  “Are we going to pay Leigh a visit?”

  “Yeah.” I started the car. Noah was going over the information we had on her. It was scarce that bothered me. There wasn’t even a good picture of her. “Call Jace to see if he has any updated information on her. A picture, an itinerary of her comings and goings.”

  The drive was longer than I anticipated. Her house sat outside the city limits where mansions populated the area. The amount of land she had guaranteed that no one would hear her if she screamed. It also made approaching the house close to impossible. The land was flat, and the trees were scarce. We parked a few miles down the road where I could hide the car. Then I picked Noah up and flew him to a tree with thick branches we could hide in.

  The last thing I needed was Noah in my arms when I was ready to bite the hell out of him. Could a human survive my bite? We settled in for a wait. The house was completely silent. Shouldn’t she have servants? I’ve always heard that humans with big houses have them.

  “It feels creepy.”

  I turned paying more attention to my surroundings. If Noah had said the house feels creepy, I would have had to agree. He was reacting to the area, not just the house.

  I allowed the senses that I kept buried to wake up. They weren’t normal Yenizen senses. These were the ones I developed on a planet that wanted to kill me and turn me in for a reward after they raped me. There are humans that say evil has a feel to it a weight that sits on your shoulders and invades your pores. Others laugh at such nonsense.

  I identify with the first group. I could feel the evil that hovered over the land reaching out to touch Noah and me. Just as I was about to suggest leaving there was noise around the side of the house.

  “Old-time garage door. I wonder why no one has taken the time to have it updated?”

  I looked at Noah not sure I understood what he said. Then I turned my eyes back to the side of the house the noise came from. A long black car made its way around until it stopped at the front door.

  The door was tall making the waif-like form that walked out of it seem even smaller. I had no trouble seeing the female who could almost be mistaken for a male walk out. Noah reached for the scope of the rifle he was carrying. The evil that had been reaching for us changed direction with an eagerness that made me nervous as it reached for the female.

  I could see when it overtook her, the half-confident steps that she had became slower as if she had to push for every inch she gained as she approached the car.

  “Cole?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t have any idea of what was happening. She lifted her head looking directly at us although I knew she couldn’t see us. Somehow, she sensed our presence. The pain, the fear and finally the acceptance in her gaze gutted me.

  Neither of us breathed until she was safely ensconced in the car. I picked my mate up and took him back to our car.

  “Drive towards town. I’m going to catch up to them and tell you where to go.” I leaned in and gave Noah a kiss before I took to the air.

  It had been a long time since I allowed myself to revel in flying. My life became one of repression, of fitting in. I could never allow myself to slip for a minute. There were nights when I would lie on my bed in a small ball scared that I was being followed by those of my planet who would hunt down a creature like me.

  You don’t deserve the air you breathe. My father’s words, they still had the power to destroy me, no matter how much I denied it. I spotted the car. I called Noah and told him where to come. I couldn’t abandon Leigh Tayler Anderson. I felt tied to her. Noah would have to agree. Did he feel it? Could he tell she was our missing third?

  She looked like a child. It was only the determination in her eyes and the set of her chin as she walked to the car that told me she was grown. The pain on her face said it was from years and not days, weeks, or months.

  I hovered overhead as the car came to a stop. Leigh exited onto a busy street. She never stopped to look around. Her shoulders squared as if she was carrying the weight of the world on them. Her small feet looked like they wanted to run, but she controlled them with an effort. She walked through crowded streets until she finally chose a small coffee shop to duck into.

  I waited until Noah parked the car and joined me. We walked in together. He didn’t know it, but we were fighting for our future.

  We ordered coffee then sat at a table that would allow us to see Leigh without staring directly at her. She took off her drab gray coat to show an oversized shirt with pants that looked like the only thing holding them up was a belt.

  “Those clothes look five maybe eight years out of style,” Noah whispered.

  I nodded so he would know I heard him. Why would she be wearing old clothes? This was another good reason to have a human partner. I paid no attention to human fashion. It came and went. I bought whatever was on sale and wore it.

  “What do you want to do when you see her?” I asked Noah curious what feelings she was stirring in him.

  “I want to feed her.” His voice was hesitant. It took all my control not to smile or laugh.

  Noah was a caretaker. He was overprotective of those who touched his heart. Leigh was going to have a hard time being loved by him. If she was ours. If we could claim her. If she didn’t become fuckin’ Naresh’s next meal.
r />   She stood up, picking up her coffee and her coat.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Leta

  I was being watched. It wasn’t the same feeling as the other day. Then the eyes on me were hungry. Now the eyes were curious. I felt the same terror, a dread that overwhelmed me when I left my house. It was always outside waiting for me to be brave enough to confront it. It whispers in my ear that the end was near. I reminded myself that it whispered the same words nine years ago.

  I wish I could say that I ignored it, but I couldn’t. I may still be walking, but I died all those years ago. No one has the sense to lay me down and bury me, but it was coming. How much longer could I live in this world?

  Even as I felt the same evil racing to overcome me. I felt a different presence. I looked around hoping to find it, but I couldn’t. Then I finally lifted my eyes looking into the trees. I was sure there was something there just outside of my line of sight. I knew the driver would be watching me, and my maid slash cook slash spy would be peeking out the door. I forced myself to keep walking to the car.

  The feeling of being watched diminished as we left the house behind. I gave a deep sigh of thankfulness. When it came back, it hit me in the gut. I was moving quickly along the road. Who could be watching me?

  I knew better, but I decided to skip my therapist visit. There was only so much I could take of her wide, speculative eyes. Her desire to know every detail so she could help me bothered me. The gleam in her eyes when I spoke. The beads of perspiration on her forehead. They cautioned me, told me she was not to be trusted. I needed to find a therapist that was not court appointed or get married.

  The laugh bubbled up inside. I told my driver; I wanted to get out at a stoplight. I didn’t even know his name; they rotated so quickly. The last driver told me my house and land were steeped in evil. I fired him. Not because he was wrong, but because if he was that sensitive, the evil would kill him and tell me it was my fault.

  I wandered around still feeling those eyes watching me. Finally, I ducked into a coffee shop needing a break from whoever was deciding if I would be his next victim. When no one followed me in, I took a deep breath and sat to enjoy my coffee. I felt them before I saw them. What I was feeling was too much to come from one person. There had to be more. I looked up expecting to find a crowd, but all there was were two men.

  There was a pastry at my fingertips. I used it as a disguise because no matter what I wasn’t going to eat it. I thought of the sugary goodness melting in my mouth, slowly dissolving in my stomach. Then I remembered the punishment for asking for food. It wasn’t worth a bit of pleasure that would turn into hell.

  I looked at the two men again. They might have been good looking, but I couldn’t tell. What I saw were their hands. Large, capable hands that could wrap around my neck and stop my breathing forever. Hands that would hurt when they pounded into my frail body. Hands that could kill me without trying.

  My mistake was raising my head enough to look into their eyes. The intense stare of the two made me move in my seat. I wanted to run, to scream that I deserved a chance to live even if life was god awful. Those eyes pinned me down. All I could do was squirm. I was dead, and I knew it. Not caring anymore, I picked up the pastry and stuffed my mouth with a bite of it before I rose leaving it lying on the table as an offering to whichever god would smile down on me.

  Did it matter if I died today or tomorrow? Not so much. I used the last of the strength in me to approach their table and take a seat.

  “See something you like?”

  “Yes,” they said at the same time.

  I felt my stomach clench in what I hoped was fear. Three years wasn’t enough to recover. A lifetime wasn’t enough to recover from the hell I lived through.

  “Why are you following me?” I waited for them to deny it. To tell me I was crazy or to laugh in my face. They turned to look at each other. They silently communicated. It made me uncomfortable. I felt like I had fallen into the middle of something I knew nothing about.

  “There’s a killer on the loose stalking victims. You might be next on his list.” The thicker one said.

  Was he serious? Now I wanted to laugh. Someone wanted to kill me? Well, that would make everyone’s life easier and put me out of my misery.

  “Is it, my good looks or my stunning personality, he’s after?”

  “Neither. You need a bath and a haircut. Then you need food. I’m not sure about your personality, but since you like to confront beings head on I don’t think that will appeal to him either.” Cole said with a shrug.

  Holy hell! Did he just say that to her? Three years of everyone around me walking on eggshells like I might break, and he trampled over them and dared me to respond.

  “It’s not like your Mr. Personality,” I mumbled not sure how to deal with what was happening. I looked into his sable eyes, and the world stopped rotating for a moment.

  “I need to leave,” I growled it, scared for my sanity but never for my virtue.

  “Not yet.” The other one put his hand on mine effectively stopping my dash to safety.

  I looked into his sea blue eyes and wondered when I had become this fanciful in describing other people.

  “You need to eat.”

  I stared at him, my mouth going slack. I closed it tight scared a fly might mistake it for a nice place to land.

  “That’s pretty much the expression I had the first time he fed me. It’s that feeling inside of you that can’t believe anyone really cares. Then you meet Noah, who is a force of nature, and you know. He cares.”

  Yeah, that. How did he understand what was going through my head? The man with the sea blue eyes was Noah. I liked it. It was old, biblical, and for some reason that made him feel trustworthy. Never determine trust based on someone's name. I knew that. I looked at the other man; I didn’t know his name.

  “Cole.”

  There was a lot of symbolism behind his name. It didn’t just mean black. I met his eyes again. There was too much pain in those eyes for his soul to be black.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “I’ve heard that before. I know you won’t trust us enough to go somewhere else to eat. They have sandwiches here,” Noah said. His voice was calm, reasonable, he made me think about it.

  My tongue darted out to lick my lower lip. When was the last time I ate? When eating was akin to signing your death warrant you learned that being skin and bones was better.

  “I won’t be able to eat it all.”

  “Something is better than nothing.”

  I gave a jerky nod but refused to say anything else.

  “Cole?” He gave the same nod of his head that I did.

  “Why do you care if I live or die?” I asked after Noah walked away.

  “I care in the abstract sense that I don’t want fuckin’ Naresh to get away with one more murder.”

  I nodded, he was telling the truth.

  “Now that I’m sitting here talking to you. I think it may mean more. I don’t know for sure, but it could be more.”

  Was he referring to that feeling in my stomach that usually made me run? Now the sensation was different. Could he be feeling what I was feeling?

  “Is Noah your boyfriend?” Why did I ask? I don’t care. I didn’t care, but I can’t ever remember just sitting in a coffee shop and gabbing with someone even before ‘my life in hell’ started.

  “I don’t know how to answer that. Maybe I should say I hope so, but I also hope it goes deeper than that.”

  “Oh.” What else could I say? I was so badly damaged I had nothing to offer, not that I was thinking of one of them as a potential…? A potential what? I really didn’t know.

  He placed his hand on mine. The same feeling, I got from Noah came from him.

  Noah walked back over giving me an excuse not to dwell on what I was thinking. He opened my sandwich and cut it into fours. Then he opened Cole’s sandwich and cut it in half.

  “I want you to eat it all.” He said to Cole. “
Let’s see if you can get two pieces of yours down.” He said to me.

  It looked more manageable now that it wasn’t one whole sandwich. Cole pulled his chair around until his arm brushed against mine. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

  Noah moved his chair until he could look directly at both of us. His eyes were filled with something tender and light. He could be a proud father or a man in love. I lowered my eyes. I gave up on love a long time ago.

  When I was in high school, they used to call Sandy Peterson used goods. I never understood that. How could a girl not wanting to wait for someone to say ‘will you marry me’ be used goods, but the boy got high fives?

  I learned quickly what the real meaning of used goods was, and Sandy never should have been called that.

  I looked down to see that I had eaten one fourth of my sandwich one small nibble at a time. Noah was smiling at me. I turned to look at Cole, he was smiling at me, but his heart was in his eyes. The sun that went away all those years ago made a brief reappearance to warm me before it hid behind the clouds.

  Lowering my eyes, I concentrated on the next fourth of my sandwich. It had been so long since I did anything to make someone else happy that I wasn’t sure who I was in that moment.

  “I can’t eat anymore.” That was the truth. I usually lied about it, but my stomach was full. If I tried to eat another bite, I would throw up.

  “You did good Leigh.”

  I wasn’t freaked out that he knew my name; they knew my name. It made sense that they had done their homework.

  “Leta.”

  “Leta?” Cole asked staring at me.

  “Leigh Taylor. I prefer Leta.” Cole smiled, and the sun made another appearance.

  That was when my driver decided he had enough, and it was time to go.

  “I need to um leave.”

  “Your protection,” Cole said.

  “If you’re truly interested in it. Come to my house tomorrow. Noon?”

  “We’ll be there,” Cole told me.