by Margot Fox
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
And he did. Sliding his fingers behind her ear, he raised her neck and brought her mouth to his. His lips were hot and pliant, mashing her mouth with a mounting passion. Immediately her hunger spiralled upwards, coursing through her body like another wildfire. Her hands ran over the smooth flesh of his back and arms.
She wanted to feel his weight over her, to feel consumed and drowned in his presence. A million thoughts raced through her mind, tumbling over each other frantically like a stampede. She wanted him, needed him. Needed him like breathing. Needed him to live.
She was thrilled to feel that he needed her too. She could hear echoes of his desire pounding behind her own.
“Gunner,” she moaned desperately between wet, deep kisses. “I want you.”
“Yes,” he said, his voice thick with passion. “Tesa… I am yours.”
She pushed her fingers into his hair and pulled his mouth back onto hers, rocking her hips against his. Suddenly, her mouth filled with blood again. She jerked her head back and her fingers flew to her mouth, which felt strange and… sharp. Her fingertips sought her teeth and found… fangs.
He shook his head. “Don’t be scared. It’s all right,” he said fervently.
She struggled, feeling the hard, slippery fangs with her fingers. “You said… What am I? Am I…”
“No! No no, you are not a vampire!” he whispered urgently, staring hard into her frightened eyes so she would believe him.
“I don’t believe you!”
“It’s true, Tesa, I swear it!” he insisted. “You’re just… You’re what you are.”
“You knew this would happen to me?!”
“Yes… Yes, my darling, I knew but I didn’t know how to tell you,” he whispered. “You’re not a vampire, I promise you. You won’t hunger for humans. You’ll only hunger for me.”
She shook her head, confused. The fangs ached in their sockets.
“I told you it would change you. This is one way. It changes me too.”
“How?” she whimpered plaintively, trying to figure out how to close her mouth. She snapped her head back slightly and imagined them gone, and they retracted neatly into two channels behind her canines.
“As long as we are… connected, like this… I’ll always know where you are,” he whispered, stroking her hair and cheek, holding her body close to his. “I’ll always feel you. I’ll always know your heart. My flesh will always want to be near yours. Always . And even if we are apart for a long time, there will be a thread of connection between us. No matter where you are, I will always feel like part of me is missing until I can be close to you.”
“You didn’t tell me,” she insisted, wanting to struggle yet finding that he was the only real comfort she could conceive of. Still, some part of her twisted away, unconvinced.
“Oh, Tesa,” he sighed deeply. “But you knew, didn’t you. Somewhere deep inside you, you knew all of this.”
She inhaled as if to respond, and then stopped.
Wait.
Did I?
CHAPTER 13
Tesa stared into the standing mirror in the corner with her lips pursed thoughtfully. She squinted at her reflection, pushing her hair up with her hands and turning her jaw slightly to one side, then the other.
The early morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains that reached to the ceiling, bathing her in a pale, soft light. The huge sapphire at her neck flickered with a teal spark deep within it.
Is it my imagination, or is my hair… thicker? she thought. Almost in answer, a light brown curl fell from her fingers, landing on her shoulder in a shiny, bouncing ringlet.
It had only been a week, but she was almost sure she looked different. Her cheeks had the palest blush. The circles under her eyes, which before had been like two charcoal smudges, had all but disappeared. Her collarbones were barely visible, even.
But it was hard to tell for sure. Ever since the first time she had tasted Gunner’s blood, everything seemed to glitter with an internal light, including herself. She could count each hair on her head. She could see her capillaries throbbing like a busy urban transportation hub.
Her whole room was webbed with seething, pulsing connections that she had never been able to notice before. It was as though the world was on fire, and she was precisely attuned to it.
Just thinking about it made her skin begin to sizzle. She loved her newfound senses. Average things, normal things — they all took on a novel excitement with her new appreciation. Every fiber of the rug felt like it was licking the soles of her feet. A simple walk down the hall buffeted her skin with swirls of caresses from the friction of the air across her body. Every piece of clothing felt like a seductive embrace.
Except this nightgown , she thought with a pout. Scowling, she plucked the strap from her shoulder and slid it over her arm. A red lash mark creased the flesh where it had been digging into her skin. She removed the other strap and tugged the garment over her breasts and hips, letting it fall in a heap on the fluffy shag carpet.
Finally freed, her breasts bounced jovially then settled. Her skin was a creamy, opaque velvet. Smiling shyly, she let her eyes slide over the curves of her waist and hips. If she tried very hard, she could still see the alleycat in there somewhere, but it was barely recognizable.
Where she had been able to count her ribs just days ago, now there was a smooth, lush layer of squeezable flesh. Her navel sat in an adorable divot surrounded by the swell of her belly. No longer stick-like, her thighs smashed together like a pin-up model’s, ending at primly dimpled knees.
Perching a hand on her waist, Tesa arched her back and moved her weight to one side, watching the curves shift and settle into a lushly feminine silhouette. She raised an eyebrow appreciatively.
“Not bad,” she murmured.
“Not bad at all,” came a voice.
Tesa jumped to the side, snatching a robe off the dressing table and swirling it around herself.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
Gunner shrugged and looked down to examine his fingernails.
“Just seeing how you’re feeling this morning,” he sighed.
“I’m fine. Now get out!” she snapped, flouncing off to the bathroom. She grabbed the first thing she saw on the counter - a hairbrush - and started yanking it through her hair.
In moments, Gunner’s reflection appeared in the mirror. He leaned his shoulder against the bathroom door frame and looked her up and down unsubtly.
“Goodness, what a difference a few days makes,” he murmured.
Tesa stopped brushing her hair and shook the brush at his reflection.
“Can I get a little privacy?”
“Oh, come on, Tesa. I thought you liked me now.”
Tesa pressed her lips together and shook her head tightly. Images of his lips on hers flooded her mind, and she shoved them forcefully back down into her subconscious where they rightfully belonged.
“No, you tricked me,” she insisted. “That was all that magical vampire crap you kept pouring into my mind. Making me scared, then making me not scared. What did you call it? Coercion?”
“Compelling,” he corrected her softly.
“Right! You compelled me!” She accused his reflection in the mirror. “And anything I did then… doesn’t count. That’s wasn’t me.”
“Truer words…”
“What?”
He shrugged and stood up straighter, assuming a serious expression. “Nevermind. Please continue,” he invited her suavely.
“It was all just a trick! For a moment, I admit… You seemed like an okay guy. But you and Stark, you're just the same.”
“We are definitely not the same,” he objected as he strolled into the room, dragging his finger along the rim of the giant bathtub. He sat on the corner of the tub enclosure and gazed at her frankly.
“Oh really? Which one are you… The violent one or the dishonest one?” she asked him sarcastically. “Oh, ye
ah, I forgot! You're both like that!”
He opened his hands, palms up. “Tesa, if you really think that you want to be making speeches —”
“— speeches?” she repeated incredulously, whirling around to face him. “Don’t you dare try to make me sound small by saying that I'm making speeches . You know very well that you have been lying, manipulating, and generally treating me like —”
“— a possession?” he interrupted smoothly. Tesa faltered for a second, clutching her robe closed to cover herself.
“A trophy?” he continued. “A prize? A game piece? Perhaps our savior, Tesa?”
“Well, yeah. I guess that's basically what I'm saying,” she agreed uncertainly.
Gunner pursed his lips thoughtfully. “You’ve got a point. There's no denying it. One day you'll appreciate everything here, or at least I hope so. Until then, call yourself whatever you like. It makes absolutely no difference to me.”
Tesa bit the inside of her cheek. She had to admit, she had been expecting more resistance, and Gunner’s apparent agreement was putting her off track.
So he is just going to forget about that kiss? she asked herself. Fine. Then I'm going to forget about it too.
Pivoting, she turned back to the mirror and began pulling the brush through her hair again, more thoughtfully this time. The sensation was luxurious and enchanting, so much so that she almost forgot he was still there until he spoke again.
“You can be ready in an hour?”
She dropped her hand to her hip and scowled at him in the mirror without saying anything.
“Wear the black A-line dress, if you like,” he continued.
“What are you talking about?” she huffed. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
Gunner stood without a word and strolled out of the bathroom with Tesa following right after.
“What, so you are going to just ignore me now? You’re just going to give me commands and then walk out of the room? Where is it you think I'm going, Gunner?”
When he got to the doorway, he paused for a moment then dropped his head. Without turning around, he said in a low voice, “It's Grant’s memorial, Tesa. I thought you would want to attend.”
“Oh,” she gasped, her mouth remaining open as the door swung shut. She heard the deadbolt turn into place and just stared at it, chewing her lip and wishing she hadn't said anything.
CHAPTER 14
Jamie parked the Bentley at the back of the lot and glanced up at Stark in the rearview mirror. Stark nodded his head.
“All right, I guess that's us. I hope you don't mind walking across the lot, Tesa,” he said in a low voice, his expression distracted and obviously displeased.
“Of course I don't mind walking across the lot,” she muttered, confused.
“Oh, come on,” Gunner sighed. “Let's not make a big deal out of this, Stark. I don't think that this is the sort of establishment where one has one’s driver deliver them to the front door. Wouldn’t you agree, Tesa?”
“Um, yeah. I see what you mean,” she said, her eyes flickering between the brothers. There was obviously some tension between them, and she wasn't entirely sure it had anything to do with walking across the parking lot. A small knot of muscle kept twitching in Gunner’s jaw and Stark’s left eyebrow seemed permanently arched. Briefly, she wondered if they had some kind of unspoken communication, like vampire telepathy or something.
Oh great, I sure do hope there are more secret superpowers with these two , she thought to herself wryly.
“Okay, terrific. So you guys just argue this out,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I'm going in.”
She slid over to reach for the handle then jerked back when the door swung open. Gunner smirked at her from outside and she gasped, looking back to the seat where he had been just a half-second before.
He held out his hand for her gallantly as she climbed out of the Bentley. Scowling, she took his hand, if only because the heels she was wearing wobbled threateningly on the cracked asphalt.
“So, you're probably just going to keep doing that, right?” she sighed. “Just popping out of nowhere? Showing off?”
He pursed his lips and looked away as he slid his near-black, Prada sunglasses on. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
He's enjoying this, she reminded herself. Don't even talk to him. Don't even give him the satisfaction.
When they reached the bar entrance, Stark and Gunner paused ever so slightly for just a moment. In fact, she didn't think she would have even noticed it if she wasn't still enjoying the benefits of Gunner’s blood. They hesitated, just as though listening. And then Stark reached decisively for the door handle and swung it open.
The stench almost knocked her off her feet. Pine-Sol, bleach, cigarette smoke from ten years ago before the indoor smoking ban was enacted. Stale beer. The accumulated filth of the men's bathroom.
“Oh my God,” she mumbled under her breath.
Gunner tipped his head toward her as they walked through the door with his hand on her lower back, pushing her gently.
“I know what you mean,” he murmured in her ear, low enough that only she could hear it. “Humans stink, don't they?”
Pressing her fingertips tightly against her lips so she wouldn't retch, Tesa only nodded and allowed herself to be propelled into the darkened space. Even though the lights were dimmed, she felt like everything was far too bright. The accumulated textures of the wood paneling, the vibrating fluorescent lights, the vinyl seat covers… It was almost too much for her. That plus the overlaid filth and stench made her mind reel.
How did I not notice this before? Is this what it always smelled like?
“No, of course not,” Gunner replied, reading her thoughts and irritating the crap out of her. “It's actually clean today. You should smell it on a regular day.”
Tesa choked back a wave of vomit and tried to get her thoughts to calm down. It was all so, so much. How long had the bar been here? She had no idea. It was already outdated and worn by the time she had been there. Maybe forty years? Maybe sixty? She didn't even know how long Bernie had owned it. Maybe it had been there for eighty years. Certainly it was layer upon layer upon layer of people smells. Cleaning smells. Toxic smells.
“How do you deal with this?” she choked.
Tesa felt a hand slip behind her elbow and push her another couple steps into the room. “You'll learn to live with it,” he assured her. “You don't have a choice.”
She nodded. The truth of the words rang in her head. She didn't have a choice, she knew. Any choice she had had evaporated the first night they walked into the bar. Had she made choices since then? Sometimes Gunner seemed to let her think so, but they always seemed to be what he wanted anyway.
She took a few more tentative steps into the bar and saw the barstools where they had first sat. She had found a bottle of tequila and poured them three shots in rocks glasses with ice. That was probably the last moment she would have been able to change anything, she realized. After that, they had known exactly what they planned to do with her, even if she didn't.
The weight of that realization hit her like a brick wall. They knew that she would be here, or somewhere just like here. That she would be changed. That she would be staring at all the people she had known just a few weeks ago like they were strangers. Like they were pulsing sacks of blood and meat walking around… their faces slashed with gory expressions that were supposed to be smiles… their blood pumping crudely through the vessels in their bodies, hot and salty and…
“Oh my God, I can hear their hair growing,” she muttered.
Gunner chuckled and squeezed the back of her elbow reassuringly. Despite herself, she appreciated that. Maybe he knew, or maybe he understood what she was going through. Certainly nobody else in the bar would. Just that little bit of connection was comforting, she had to admit.
“Where's he going?” she whispered, jerking her chin toward Stark, who was making his way to the back of the room.
> “Don't worry about him,” Gunner murmured as he directed her toward the emptier corner of the bar. “Stark has never been good with crowds. We won't lose him, I assure you. He's probably simply trying to secure the back door.”
“Secure it from what?” she asked, looking up at his face.
The effect was immediate and striking. The moment she saw him, a calm seemed to descend over her like a mist. The waves of stench receded slightly and she could find focus, as though finding a lighthouse beam cutting through the fog.
“Feel better?” He asked softly.
“What on earth is that?” she gasped, fighting through the fog to a sense of outrage. “Don’t, like, compel me. Not here!”
His eyes cast down toward her and his expression seemed almost apologetic for just a moment. “No, that’s not what I’m doing. It’s just our connection. It’s growing stronger.”
“Our connection,” she repeated doubtfully.
“If things become a little too much, just look for me,” he continued softly. “You can always find safety there.”
“But, it seems almost the same? Are you doing that to me?”
He sighed impatiently and guided her onto a leather barstool. She sat on it primly, trying not to feel the thick layer of grime and invisible grossness just underneath the fabric of her dress.
“Tesa, I'm not doing anything to you. This is just a natural byproduct of my blood for you.”
“Like a symptom?”
He dropped his hand against his thigh and looked around the room protectively. After a moment, he spoke again.
“A symptom, if you want to call it that. Yes. I'm a safe place for you. I know it's hard for you to accept, but in time you'll see that this is the only safe space there truly is.”
Tesa squinted her eyes and sighed to herself, trying to find some other safe place inside of her. But everything she found was swirling, roaring like an angry ocean in a storm.
When she opened her eyes again, she found his face. Even though he wasn't looking directly at her the calm descended again. The ocean receded and she could organize her thoughts.