When she got to the point that she started to feel sleepy, she moved her festivities, such as they were, and they had dwindled down to just the double stuffed Oreos by then, into her room, where she loaded another DVD and considered the damage to the fifth of tequila, which was nearly half-gone.
As she lay there, staring blearily at Cartman as fire came out of his ass, she thought she heard someone talking to her. But that was impossible, because she was supposed to be alone, wasn’t she? Although it had happened lately that she had been supposed to be alone and ended up not being, due to that annoying vampire, whatzizname.
“What is my name, Cherie?”
Fawna sat bolt upright in her bed, which in her condition was quite a feat. Damn it, it was him. “Max? Where the fuck are you?” She made to get out of bed, but wasn’t sure she could.
“Stay right where you are, Fawna. I’m not there. I’m just in your head.”
“In my haid?” She was looking at the ceiling of the room from various angles, as if he was there, but she saw nothing, and only managed to make herself horribly dizzy.
He was chuckling, laughing at her, and she didn’t like it one bit. “Hmmmm. Perhaps this isn’t the best time...”
“What are you doing in my haid, Max?” She hiccoughed, then burped and slurred an “excuse me” as a distinct afterthought.
His voice still had that slightly amused tinge to it, like a father with a particularly bright daughter. “I’m always here, Fawna. You can’t get rid of me, just because I’m not with you.”
“Get out of my head, Max.” She sounded a little more sober than she had a moment ago, but sober or not, there he was. Fawna was on her knees on the bed, trying in vain to stand on the none too steady mattress when she was none too steady herself. “Now you’re in it even more than you were b’fore!”
“Sit down, please. I’m afraid not, Fawna. I like it in here. It’s quite cozy, and I like you, too. A lot. More than a lot. And I intend to show you that, in the future, when you’re ready to face the world again. I just wanted to check in on you. I know Dain and your Mother are worried about you, but they don’t want to disturb you. I, on the other hand, have no such compunction. I thought I’d let them know that you’re all right, if a bit tipsy.”
“You stay away from my family!” She was endeavoring to stand on the bed, but all she managed to do was cause an epic oreo debacle that would have her brushing oreo crumbs out of her bed for the rest of her stay.
“Sit down!” He’d never really yelled at her before, but that voice, that tone, demanded instant obedience, even in her inebriated state and especially since it was accompanied by something scorching hot across her bottom. She had no idea what it was, but it felt like a someone was laying stripes from a cane made of fire across her rump , so much so that she kept reaching her hands behind her, as if to extinguish the nonexistent flames. Finally, she collapsed, somehow managing tailor fashion, directly onto the package of Oreos, and the bite died down somewhat, although an unnatural, and distinctly uncomfortable glow remained.
“Good girl. Does your bottom sting, I hope?” He couldn’t resist asking. He’d never really tried to do what he’d just done to her, but it had worked amazingly well. He could feel, sort of, remotely, what it felt like to her, and it had been highly effective. He would have to remember that that weapon was in his arsenal when she misbehaved when she was away from him in the future – not that he intended to let her get away from him much.
Fawna’s hands were still clutching her non-blazing blazing butt. “Yes!” she pouted indignantly. “You can’t do that! You’re not even here! And that’s not fair!”
His laughter exploded in her head, making her that much more indignant. He decided to distract her, not wanting her to dwell on what had been a small chastisement. “You and I have some unfinished business to take care of when next we meet.” Somehow, she had no idea how he did it, but he made her feel as if his hand was squeezing her now burning bottom. It no longer burned from his previous chastisement, thankfully, but it had been red for quite a few days after his departure.
“Good. I hope it hurt for quite some time afterwards.”
She became quite coy at that remark, trailing her finger around the bedspread. “Welllllllll, not really.”
Max had to suppress a smile. She was going to regret having indulged, in more ways than one. “I’ll have to remember that and do a better job next time, now won’t I?”
“Nooooooooo,” she answered, then dissolved into a fit of giggles. He liked it when she laughed. She hadn’t done anywhere near enough of it during their short time together.
“Maaaaaaaaaaax?”
“What, Cherie?”
She sighed heavily, and he knew the giggling was over. Apparently, alcohol made her moods quite mercurial. “You won’t hurt my Mommy or Dain, will you?”
He swallowed hard, knowing that was a very valid question, and was touched at her care for her family, even when she could barely think for herself. “No, bebe, you have my word of honor from when that used to mean something. I will never again be a threat to you or your family.”
“Or Dag?” Her voice was high pitched again, as when she had giggled, as a child’s.
“Don’t push it, Fawna.”
She was rolling on the bed, as if dipping herself in Oreo crumbs before dropping herself into a fryolator. “Okay!” innocently, completely without malice.
He couldn’t be mad at her when she was like this – it would be as useless as being angry at a baby. “Don’t you think you should be getting to sleep?”
“Nope!”
“I could help you along those lines...”
Instantly, the legs she had let fall apart while she was rolling were held gently apart as invisible fingers crept between her legs.
She was alone, and thus only wearing those useless scraps of undies and a t shirt left over from her mother’s days as sometimes a Russian language student. It said something to the effect of “No, I won’t translate what this T shirt says for you.”
Chapter Eight
Something lovely was happening to her lower parts, and she wasn’t quite sure exactly what it was, but it was very pleasant, but it was making her have to move her head back and forth very fast, and breathe very heavily.
“Max?”
“Yes, my Fawna?”
She couldn’t answer him immediately because of what was happening down there, where someone who really knew what he was doing was touching her, even though she was alone and there was no one there, and she just had to groan. “Max?”
“Yes, my Fawna?”
“Max, the room is – is spinning... or am I spinning?” She really wasn’t quite sure which it was.
Unsure whether what he was doing might contribute to a stomach upset, Max withdrew his attentions immediately. “Bebe, I want you to listen to me.”
“Yes?” She responded all right, but her attention had been caught by the blasted cartoon.
“Turn off the DVD player.”
She pouted very prettily, but did what she was told. The recent stripes across her bottom serving well to remind her that she didn’t want to disobey him. “Good girl.” Then she reached for the bottle of tequila. “No more tequila. You’ve had enough, Fawna. I want you to quit for the night and try to go to sleep.”
“I can’t yet.”
Max sighed and tried to keep a hold on his temper. “Why not?”
“Because I need to have a big glass of water and an aspernin, so’s I don’t get a hungover.” Luckily, she had been prepared, and had put a bottle of water and an aspirin on her nightstand at the beginning of this adventure, so that she didn’t have to go anywhere when she finally decided to nod off. She drank most of the bottle of water, and swallowed the aspirin, then lay back on the bed and turned the TV back on.
“I thought I told you to turn that off?”
“It helps me fall to sleep.”
Max liked silence when he slept. He had never gotten into the m
odern idea that something needed to be on in the background to facilitate sleep. “All right, but I want you to sleep, not watch TV.”
Fawna snorted, suddenly more adult again. “Yes, Dad.”
Silence.
“Are you going to get out of my head now?”
“I’m going to go away, yes. I’m always here, if you need me.”
“How come you never told me you could talk to me like this until now?” She seemed to be sobering up almost annoyingly fast.
He took his time responding. “I’ve always been able to do it; but I blocked it from you at first. I’m trying not to now, because I want to be more open with you. Eventually, if you want to learn, you’ll be able to read my thoughts, too.”
Now that sounded intriguing. She wished she was more sober, because that was something she really wanted to explore. But another thought intruded, and she frowned in concentration. “Are you really going to tell my family I’m all right?”
“If your brother doesn’t kill me first for darkening his doorway, as he promised to on our way out of the woods.”
Fawna didn’t say anything. She just sighed. Sometimes the complicated relationships in her life just seemed entirely too hard to work out. Why everyone just couldn’t friggin’ get along, she’d never know. It was because she kept picking damned dominant men, and they always clashed. If only she had been gay.
It was Max’s turn to snort. “Right. And women always get along so well together, right?”
“Better than men by a long shot, buddy.”
“Don’t delude yourself, Fawna. But that’s an argument for another day. You’ve pickled yourself to the point that you’re almost ready to drop.” His voice lowered several octaves as he whispered in her mental ear, “Don’t stay away too long, bebe. I miss you.”
Fawna allowed herself to physically preen at that last compliment. Well, perhaps “allow” wasn’t the right word, because she was too far gone to have prevented it. Her smile was as broad as her entire face, and her whole body glowed, and Max felt every bit of it, just before he withdrew.
She stretched completely, from stem to stern, then hugged herself tight, as he would, if he were there.
To which “he” she was referring, she had to admit, she wasn’t at all sure.
***
As it turned out, Fawna stayed three more days. Max did not visit her again, on any level, but she would have sworn she could feel his impatience growing each day that she didn’t return home. It was a tickle, in the back of her mind. An itch, of sorts, as if he was trying to coax her out of her lair.
And when she did decide to leave, of course she couldn’t go back to the apartment she’d shared with Dag, she just couldn’t, so, she went to the palace her Mother and brother shared, knowing she’d be welcomed home with open arms, even if it was just for a transitional period until she could get another apartment for herself.
Her mother greeted her as if she’d come back from the dead, not only looking her over as if she was a piece of horseflesh she was contemplating buying, but physically running her hands over her daughter and even moving her hair back away from her neck and inspecting the bites on her neck, trying to decide if she’d been bitten again. “Did he hurt you, baby? Did that awful vampire hurt you in any way?”
Too many ways to count, Momma, too many ways to count, Fawna thought, but kept it to herself. And to which vampire was it that you were referring, exactly, she thought, but definitely didn’t say. She had forgotten to take into account that Max was on the receiving end of both of these thoughts.
Momma had liked Dag, as much as any faerie of her era could like a vampire. She had said it often enough - at least Fawna had waited until after her father had died to become involved with a bloodsucker.
“I’m fine, Momma, really.” She knew she’d be doing some sort of karmic penance for the lie, but that was okay with her if it soothed her mother’s conscience. The older woman worried entirely too much, and the past couple of weeks had been very hard on her. Fawna dropped her bag onto the table in the Italian marble foyer. “Did Max tell you that I was all right?”
Lilliana rolled her eyes in disgust. “Oh, him! He did, but I take everything that . . . man . . . says with a big grain of salt. I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him. He’s already hurt you once, hasn’t he?” That was the end of it for her Mother. The bite marks on her neck would forever damn Max, even if he saved the lives of a busload full of cancer ridden, handicapped nuns by selflessly throwing himself on a terrorist bomb, he’d still have two strikes against him, as far as she was concerned, because he’d hurt her baby girl.
As much as she didn’t necessarily want to find herself defending him, she had done a lot of thinking about him during her time alone, and she’d come to some conclusions about Max. “I think he’s trying to change, Momma.” There. She’d said it out loud, and not just thought it to herself. That made it real. She’d been thinking about it for a while, since he’d left, and it was the only thing that made sense.
“Yeah, your brother told me some balderdash story about how he wrestled your Daddy’s sword away from him in the woods …”
Fawna sank into the only chair available, her face white with shock. “What happened?”
Dain strode into the room at that point and finished the tale himself. “He took it from me fair and square, the bastard. Had it right up against my chin. Could have run me through at any second. Chopped my head clean off without a thought. Hell, he could have bled me dry as soon as look at me. But he didn’t. He turned the hilt to me and bowed, as if I was going to knight him or something. He said he was doing it in your honor. And then, it was the strangest thing, a few minutes later, before we’d made it out of the woods, he got this huge grin on his face. And it looked so out of place because that man isn’t the type to go around smiling. But he said it was because he knew somehow that you liked him.”
Fawna, if it was at all possible, turned paler than she had been before. That must’ve been the moment when she realized she’d missed him. Damn him and his invasion of her mind!
Dain squatted in front of her, looking up at her. “So, what’s the story with him, honey? Is he on the up and up? Has he turned over a new leaf for love of you?”
Fawna snorted. “Hardly. Well... I don’t think so. He may have turned over a new leaf, but I highly doubt it’s for love of me. He’s the one who’s trying to off me, remember?”
“Well, he must’ve had ample opportunity while you were cooped up together, and here you are...”
“Yeah.” The truth was that Fawna really didn’t know what to make of Max’s behavior any more than Dain did. She’d tried to sort it out – both his behavior and her own. She knew she didn’t want him hurt, but beyond that, she really wasn’t sure. The only thing she did know for sure was that she was damned sick and tired of thinking about all of it – every last bit of it. Dag and Max and Dain and herself – the whole lot of them. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”
Dain stood immediately. “Is there something I need to know about, Fawna? ‘Cause I’ll go kick his ass if he hurt you. You just say the word.”
“That’s the problem, Dain. There’s just too many people that are too eager to go kicking each other’s ass, and killing each other’s women. It’s just weak, Dain. It’s weak. And I mean that in the real sense of the word, not the slang. Think before you act. You’re a king. You have lives depending on you. Think. Vengeance is not pretty. Don’t be so eager to go down that road. It’s a waste of life on every level.” With that, she picked up her bag and headed towards her room.
***
Fawna was surprised at the restraint Max showed. She knew that he must’ve sensed that she was no longer at the haven in the woods, but he didn’t invade her thoughts again at all, at least that she was able to detect... at least not while she was conscious.
Now, while she was sleeping was apparently an entirely different matter. He seemed to have absolutely no compunction abo
ut invading her dreams. She wondered at the fact he’d kept his mind pretty much to himself once he’d left the forest, but when she got home, he’d decided to amend his hands off approach and had taken to coming to her in her dreams.
And oh, what dreams they were!
Fawna had always had a very active dream life. She could remember a lot of them, even from as far back as her childhood. She had had a lot of nightmares as a child, but grew out of them and rarely had them as an adult. Most of her dreams were pleasant, some even funny. Most were task oriented; there was something she, or a group of people within the dream, needed to accomplish, usually. Sometimes it was as trivial as a shopping expedition – usually for shoes - sometimes it was saving a town from the Nazis.
For someone who was, admittedly, a relatively sexual person, she didn’t have sex dreams very often, even during those times when she found herself without a lover.
Until now.
Max brought sex into her dreams with a vengeance, and with them, discipline. Starring himself, of course. He was very thoughtful, though, and didn’t occupy her whole night, but she could count on the fact, at least once a night, she was going to have a dream about him. Only it really didn’t feel like a dream at the time. It felt like it was really happening, and, at times she began to really question whether it actually did happen, and towards the end of the week, that was beginning to make her question her own sanity.
The first night that she was home, it was a very sweet dream, almost a welcome home. He brought her to a place she didn’t recognize, but that she had a hunch might be his house. The demeanor of it fit him, but she wished it didn’t. It was a large grey mansion, isolated and dour and, frankly, unwelcoming. She didn’t get to see much of it, because the only room he brought her to was a bedroom, but it wasn’t even his bedroom. Fawna had the idea that he had it created and decorated just for her. She didn’t think it was a room that he actually used. It didn’t fit what she thought the décor of the rest of the house was – it fit what she thought he thought she would probably like and be comfortable with.
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