by Ines Johnson
I look over at my brother. Virius is watching me. His dark eyes are clear, the bags heavy under them.
“When’s the last time you slept?” I ask.
Virus shrugs his large shoulders. Though we are both compelled by the sun to sleep, that does not mean we ever rest. Viri’s eyes are always wide. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen the man blink. His fists and biceps are always gathered in bulges, as though he’s perpetually ready to strike.
“Come.” I pat my mattress, scooting over to make room for him.
Virius rises and comes to the bed. The mattress dips as the cushions welcome his big body. He lies down on his back and stares at the ceiling. The tension remains in every cord of his being.
“Rest a while.” I place my hand on his shoulder. “I’ll watch your back.”
Bit by bit, the tension seeps out of his body. The sun has set by the time Virius is softly snoring. I stay awake and watch my brother. It reminds me of the old days when Domitia took in a new pet. During those few weeks, while her attention was diverted, Viri and I stole our rest. We would listen to the moans and screams of her newest toy, knowing that she would soon tire of them and come looking again for her favorites.
Back then, Virius and I would take shifts, sleeping back to back, watching for the dangers of our mistress. Still to this day, I sleep best when I know he is near. Tonight it is my turn to keep watch for as long as he needs.
15
Marechal
When I peer down into the microscope, I worry that the time may have come when I need glasses. The image in the lens is in focus. The specimen is clear to see. And that is the problem.
I pull away to peer down at the Serrano vine without the 400x magnification. The root rot is clear and present on the ends of the vine. But under the lens, I saw… nothing.
That can not be.
I increase the magnification and look again. I get the same result. There are no wormlike growths attached to the plant’s cells. No oblong organisms. The plant looks healthy inside. But on the outside, it is dying.
Is this some kind of joke? If it is, it’s an elaborate one. Gaius didn’t hand me this vine. I plucked it from the vineyard myself after he… plucked me.
The ringing of my cell phone buries the thought before it can take root in my mind. Looking down at the caller ID is enough to make me drop the plant and jerk away from my tools.
“Cari!”
“Hey, Mare, it’s me.”
“I know it’s you. Where are you?”
“I’m with Hadrian.”
Her voice sounds different, raspy, as though she’s thirsty. My first thought is what it always is with my younger siblings. “Is he feeding you?”
Cari chokes on the other end of the line. My maternal instincts go into overdrive. I want to hang up and dial 911, but I have no idea where she is, or where the nearest emergency room is. Hadrian better know CPR, or I’ll kill him.
My baby sister, whom I’ve cared for since the day she was born, is gasping for air. But it’s not because she’s choking. “Are you laughing?”
Cari clears her throat, but another snort escapes her mouth.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Just a private joke between me and Hadrian.”
“Your kidnapper.”
“We’re married, Mare.”
“You just met him two weeks ago. It’s all happened so fast. Tell me, Cari, did he force you to do this?”
“Really?” There’s another snort on the other end. “You raised me, Marechal. Do you really think I’d let a man make me do anything?”
Despite myself, I chuckle. We’re giggling now, and it feels good. It would feel better if she was standing next to me. I’d reach over and give her a one-armed hug. I’m a couple of inches taller than my sister, so my chin would rest atop her head. I’d turn my face until my nose was in her hair and I’d inhale, catching a whiff of the sweet scent she’s carried with her since she was a baby.
“I’m fine, Mare. This is what I want. You’ve had to take care of me all my life. It wasn’t fair to you. Especially this past year when I’ve been so awful.”
“Papa’s passing was hard on all of us.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “On all of us. And you took care of me and Arnie. But who’s there to take care of you?”
I cross my free arm over my midsection, preparing to tell my baby sister I don’t need anyone to take care of me. That I can handle it myself. That I’m just fine.
As soon as the thought flits across my frontal cortex, a familiar weight settles down over my shoulders like a shawl of stones. The heaviness spreads through my body until my feet feel itchy, as though an irritating fungus is growing there. Goose pimples rise on my arms, like the pockmarks on the vine under my scope.
But unlike the vine which looks bad on the outside and healthy on the inside, I am fine. Both inside and out.
“You were with Gaius the other day.”
The sound of his name makes the stone shawl slip from my shoulders. The bumps on my arms settle.
“He’s a good man,” she continues.
My gaze narrows, though I know she can’t see me. In the past, Cari has tried to set me up with her middle school gym teacher, her high school AP Chemistry teacher, and her ethics professor from her freshman year of college.
“He could be good for you.”
“We’re not talking about me, Carignan. We’re talking about you.”
“I’m so happy, Mare. I want you to be as happy as me.”
I don’t have time for a relationship. There is always so much on my plate. Since I was a teen, I’ve been running a business, raising children, and taking care of a household. The few times I dated, those men only served to add to my to-do list—including carving out the time at night to do them.
But last night, Gaius Serrano had taken just a few minutes to do me. Even though I hadn’t gotten the muscle clenching written about in a Penthouse fiction story, I had experienced a release. It had been nice. Really nice.
To be taken care of by someone else.
To take off all that weight on my shoulders.
To simply lie back and experience pleasure.
But it had come at a price. One I am not willing to pay again. My integrity is worth more than a few moments of bliss. Isn’t it?
“I’ll be home soon, Mare. I just need some time to… adjust to my new life with Hadrian. If you need anything, just ask Gaius.”
“Cari—”
“Mare, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you soon. I promise.”
The line goes dead. I have half a mind to redial, but I know she won’t answer. Cari is right in one regard: I raised her well. No one can make her do something that she doesn’t want.
I have to admit that Hadrian didn’t kidnap her. I never truly believed it. I just don’t like not knowing where she is, or having access to her. That might make me a helicopter sister, but I’ll take the title if it keeps my siblings safe.
I straighten my spine as I hang up the phone. The heavy shawl settles back around my shoulders. At least the imaginary weight is enough to hold off the goosebumps on my arms this time.
“There you are.”
The sound of his voice loosens the burden wrapped around me. As I turn to face him, the weight falls entirely away. His smoldering gaze is on my heels, making a slow circuitous route up the line of my skirt, over the curve of my breasts, and finally, to my face. Goosebumps have risen on every inch of flesh that Gaius’s eyes touched.
He is dressed in an impeccably tailored suit. The fabric shows off his powerful thighs. His long limbs end in expensive, polished shoes. The button is open on his coat. The silk of his shirt clings to his pecs. The muscles under that shirt look enticing, bitable.
Bitable? I give myself a shake. I have never once thought of biting a man. I have never had sexual thoughts about a man. But just the sight of Gaius Serrano standing in my doorway, backlit by the moonlight, makes m
y libido flare to life like never before.
“See something interesting?” he drawls.
“What? No. Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Serrano. How did you even get in here?”
“You invited me last week.”
Last week? When I’d met him and Hadrian for the first time? Why is he referring to that? “I mean tonight. What are you doing here now?”
He motions to the vine under the scope.
“There’s nothing there,” I say.
“Are you saying there’s nothing wrong with my vines?”
“The rot is there. It’s clear as the eye can see. But the scopes don’t pick up any organisms inside the plant. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Gaius bends down and peers into the scope. I peer at him as he does so. I’m not sure if it’s simply seeing the tight curve of his backside, or if it’s watching him handle my tools, but I do see something interesting.
“Hmmm,” he says as he straightens.
“Hmmm? There’s an unseen pathogen attacking your vineyard and that’s all you have to say about it?”
Gaius inhales deeply. His chest rises with the motion. His chest muscles press more firmly against the fabric of his shirt. So much so that I can see the outline of his nipples. My mouth waters, and I ache to run my tongue over them.
I swallow hard, trying to banish that thought from my entire being. This man is my enemy. He holds the fate of my business in his hand. And he’s cavalier in his handling of it.
“Perhaps your equipment needs cleaning,” he says.
“Excuse me?” Did this man really just call into question the performance of my tools? “There is nothing wrong with my equipment. This is a state of the art lab, and I am meticulous in the upkeep of all my tools.”
“I’m sure you are, Ms. Durand. My apologies.”
Again, his gaze rakes over me, taking in every detail again even though he already looked me over when he came into the room. I feel like I am now under the microscope of Gaius’s lens. I’m certain he can see into the heart of me. That he can tell that I’ve been fantasizing about him.
“Let me make it up to you. Let me have you for dinner.”
He says have you, not take you. My survival instinct warns me that wasn’t a slip of the tongue.
“Is this going to turn into another sex deal?”
“Would you like it to turn into another sex deal?”
Gaius flashes white teeth when he grins. My fight or flight response goes haywire. The survival instinct is telling me to run. But the direction it points towards for safety is into Gaius’s arms.
“This is sexual harassment,” I say.
“Not if I have your consent.”
“You’re lording your power over me to get me to do what you want.”
“You’re right. I am lording my power over you. Because it’s what you want.”
He steps closer to me. So close, I can smell the salt of the sweat behind his ear. His hot breath has notes of sweet wine. Something dark. Perhaps a Japanese plum wine? A Sémillion grape, maybe?
It makes me think of the blend I’ve been working on all month: a dessert wine with notes of blackcurrant and raspberries. I’m certain it’ll be a hit with the younger college crowd who are just learning to refine their palettes. But will I even be allowed to make it with a purist like Gaius Serrano at the helm of my company?
“The only thing I want from you is my company. But I’m not going to whore myself out to you to get it.”
The lazy smile drops from his face. His upper lip crashes into his lower lip like an expensive bottle of wine falling to the floor. "Never use that word in the same sentence as yourself."
"But that's what this is; sexual favors for currency."
"No,” he says, his smug smile restored. “The shares are a gift, like a piece of jewelry between lovers."
"We're not lovers."
“No,” he says, his smile holding a hint of sadness. “I don’t have lovers. Lovers have sex. Intercourse. They fuck.”
I don’t flinch at his rude words. But between my legs, I am aching and wet. Gaius’s nostrils flare as though he can scent that private truth.
“I don’t want to fuck you, Marechal. I just want to play with your cunny.”
I flinch then. A whoosh of air leaves my mouth just as my nostrils flare to take more in. The result leaves me lightheaded.
“I want to make your pussy throb with want and then weep with pleasure. I want the pleasure from my hands, from my tongue, to rise so high inside of you that you beg me to fuck you.”
The silence looms between us. All I can hear is the sound of his even breaths. My own inhales are shallow, but I am able to find my voice. “I’ll die before I ask you for anything.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. I imagine Eve likely said the same thing to the snake before he coaxed her into her own downfall.
“Let’s make a deal, Ms. Durand. If I can't make you come ten times tonight, I'll give you back three more shares."
I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell. Only one word comes out. “Six.”
Six shares would give me back the controlling interest in my company. I would be back in charge.
“Four,” he counters.
“Six,” I hold steady.
“Five, and that’s my final offer. For tonight.”
His voice is like a hiss in my ear. His grin is too wide. I can see all of his white teeth flashing, like a snake ready to pounce.
I should back away. I should run. If I get in bed with this man, I could lose more than the keys to paradise. I could very well lose my soul.
“Deal.”
16
Gaius
Contrary to popular belief, not all vampires fly. But we do all move faster than human perception. Perhaps that’s why I like fast cars.
My Venom zips through the city, handling the hairpin turns with ease at eighty miles per hour. Beside me, Marechal is strapped into the passenger seat. I expect her to admonish me for my speed. As the speedometer clicks past eighty-five, she doesn’t open her mouth.
Instead, her thighs are pressed together. Her nails are digging into the leather of the seat. Her chest rises and falls in quick pants. I can see her nipples pebbling beneath her shirt.
Just as I suspected. The tightly wound woman likes being out of her own control and in mine. She might not be a submissive in the sense that she wants a Master to dominate her, but she will hand over her power to me. I just need to show her that I am more than man enough to handle her, just as easily and deftly as I handle this car.
Up ahead, there is a bend in the road. Marechal lets out a slow exhale as I take the curve. Her fingers relax in her lap, as though the worries of the day are slipping loose of her hold. Her back arches as the speed climbs to one hundred. Her sigh harmonizes to the hum of the engine as I zip in and out of the slow-moving domestic cars.
She voices not a single concern. Not a peep of protest. She is the picture of submission as she lets me dominate from my place in the driver’s seat.
I would have driven forever. Instead, I drive past the turn that would take us back to the Serrano vineyard and head to town. Marechal’s eyes are closed but she is wide awake, fully aware of everything happening to her. From the circulating air in the car, I can smell that she is aroused.
I want to keep her on the edge of this pleasure. I want to make it last for her. And then I will play with her all night until she screams herself hoarse from the pleasure I will bring.
It’s been a long time that I was this giddy to play. I have half a mind to turn the car around and head home. The Venom could handle the sharp change in direction. But I want to walk on the edge alongside Marechal.
I ease the car to a stop in a downtown parking lot. This part of town is teeming with youths at this time of night. Marechal opens her eyes and frowns in confusion as she takes in the sight. The fact that she doesn’t question me pleases me immensely.
She takes my hand as I open the passenger
door. We walk past the line of people waiting to get into the restaurant and are seated immediately in my favorite spot, the best spot in the place. I wave the menus away and order for her. I order a selection of appetizers, an entree, and a dessert. But only enough for one.
As a vampire, I can eat human foods. I can even enjoy them. The only appetite I have this evening is for the woman sitting across from me.
Again, she doesn’t argue as I order for her. She sits back and watches my every move, as though she’s searching for a weakness and preparing to strike. The only time she sits forward and voices a protest is at my wine selection.
“We’ll have the 1990 Château Margaux,” I say.
“That only comes by the bottle, sir.”
It’s a $1200 bottle. I lift my gaze to glare at the server. The waiter takes in my tailored Versace suit and Rolex. He gulps and nods, straightening to go.
“Wait,” says Marechal, raising a finger. “I don’t care for the Margaux. I’d prefer the 1989 Château Cheval Blanc. And you can put it on my tab.”
It’s a $1300 bottle. The waiter looks between the two of us. He wisely steps back from the pissing contest going on.
“What’s your issue with the Margaux?” I ask.
“The vineyard is on the left bank of Bordeaux. I find the grapes on the right bank, such as the Cheval, are richer.”
I can only grin. The woman surprises me at every turn. For someone as old as I am, that is a novelty.
“I thought we were headed to your place?” she says.
“I need to feed you first. You’ll need your strength for the work I have planned for you.”
Her smile is tight. “Aren’t you a gracious boss?”
“I expect you to buy me a mug that proclaims it.”
Her snorting laugh is a surprise to us both. It’s the most unladylike sound. I wanted to make this buttoned-up, no-nonsense woman do it again.