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1 Dicey Grenor

Page 4

by Grenor, Dicey


  And screamed.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Remi?”

  Chapter 5

  He breathed in and out again and again. Fast. Too fast. He was hyperventilating.

  I laughed.

  I’d intended to use the element of surprise in my favor, but I hadn’t meant for him to be scared to death. But this was Remi. He loved death. Loved fear. He began to laugh too.

  “Answer the question, Remi,” I said in my no-nonsense, serious tone. Enough of the funnies.

  “I wanted to see you.”

  “How did you know I’d be here?”

  “I followed you one night.”

  I thought about it. I normally walked really fast, but sometimes I strolled, took my time and appreciated the darkness. His turning up unexpectedly sure seemed like a warning that I needed to be more careful. Being sloppy could have dire consequences. Call me crazy, but I enjoyed being undead. Getting caught was not an option.

  “That’s creepy, Remi. You shouldn’t follow a girl home.”

  “I love you, Willow. I’d follow you anywhere.”

  “The destination is of little relevance, sweetie. You shouldn’t follow a girl, period.”

  He jammed one hand in the pocket of his jeans. “I can’t help myself. Seeing you once a week at Hades isn’t enough.” He reached his other hand out to me.

  I stepped back, reluctant to touch him. Scared to encourage him. “Then come more often. I work most nights except Sundays and Mondays. I treat Sunday like the Sabbath and have other things to do on Mondays.”

  “I can only come on Saturdays.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. If you follow me again, I’m going to call the cops.”

  “No you won’t.” He smirked and stepped forward, closer.

  “You’re right. I won’t. There’re worse things I could do to you than call the cops.”

  He flinched, then took another step forward and smiled. “Like what?” His stare was creepy and sexy at the same time.

  He wasn’t daring me to do something to him on the off-chance I might be bluffing. He was baiting me, begging me to do something bad. Do something dangerous, something evil to him. He got off on that.

  He was close enough to kiss…those beautiful, perky, kissable lips. I thought about it, almost did it, until I smelled cigarettes. It overshadowed his cologne. Damn. He was too gorgeous to smoke. I fed from him because it was convenient, he was eye candy and his blood tasted rich. But I hated that he smoked. I never complained though because I knew it helped relax him. And because I was usually too hungry to care.

  Looked like he could use a smoke now. He seemed especially twitchy tonight, amped up on testosterone or maybe he’d had a rough day and had come to Hades, to me to unwind.

  I could captivate his mind, erase memories of the motel, but I didn’t know how long he’d known. It was possibly part of his long-term memory by now. In fact, I’d been bleeding him and tampering with his brain for so long, I wasn’t sure how well it worked on him anymore.

  Max had warned me about long-term human blood donors and the unpredictable effects our mental manipulations had on their brains. He longed for the return of days when captivation wasn’t necessary for openly feeding off humans. In the meantime, he kept a few human pets. If one wasn’t available, he’d procure unwilling humans and kill them, erasing their memories of him permanently. I still bothered with the mental crap all for the sake of following the commandment against murder. Max used captivation for less menial stuff like forcing tycoons to sign over their assets.

  I wasn’t too worried about Remi getting suspicious and ratting me out though. If he ever detected punctures from my blood draws, he’d cover the wounds in public and admire them privately like a marked lover. And I was careful not to get carried away when he asked me to cut him with razor blades. I was sure to cut in the same pattern across old scars on his wrists where he’d tried to off himself.

  Captivating Remi’s brain was just an extra precaution.

  “Can I come in? I didn’t see you after your act. You know I need to see you.”

  “No, you can’t come in. I didn’t invite you here.”

  “Why didn’t you come to me afterwards? I looked for you.”

  “I was attacked.” I held up my wrist showing the makeshift bandage. He could also see where I’d wiped Punch’s blood on my sleeve. It all added to painting the picture that I’d been hurt even though there was no longer a real injury.

  “What?! Really? What happened?” He sounded surprised, angry.

  “He said he was a fan. Then he maced me and tried to rape me.” Better to leave out Punch’s suspicions about abduction being a motive. Or that my attacker suspected I was a vampire.

  “Were you hurt? Did he use a weapon?” He no longer sounded angry. His voice was lower, edgier. In fact, he looked too damn eager to know details. His blood pumped too excitedly.

  “Don’t you dare get excited about someone hurting me, Remi.”

  “I’m sorry, Willow. You know I can’t help it. That’s why I love you. You don’t judge me. I know I’m a creep but…” he looked down and kicked a pebble, “I need you.”

  I’d used him every Saturday night for blood. He’d used me for sexual release. That’s the way it was. Just because I’d had blood already, didn’t seem fair that he couldn’t get what he needed also, his weekly fix.

  Damn straight I could take care of him tonight, help him lose the edge.

  Hoped I wouldn’t regret it.

  “No, I wasn’t hurt.” I linked my arm around his. “C’mon,” I said with resolve.

  He walked with me to my room, and then inside. Over the window curtains draped heavy blankets to keep out sunlight, so my room was pitch dark at night. Too dark for him to see yet I could see fine. Didn’t keep him from touching me though. From pulling me close. From holding the back of my head until my face was mashed up to his and his tongue was down my throat. He’d latched on to my tongue like a vacuum. Sucking. Moaning. Pushing me towards the center of the room. Towards the bed.

  Before I had even kicked the door shut.

  He’d never been this aggressive before. Meant I wasn’t the only one who’d been close to losing control tonight. But what exactly did that mean for him? Had he been close to letting his addiction to death get out of hand? Did that involve killing someone? Or trying to kill himself again?

  He palmed my ass with eager hands and pressed himself against me roughly. I felt his dick straining his jeans, poking my leg, begging to be put to use. When his thumb traced along my elastic waist and tugged my panties and sweat pants downward, I realized he intended to take me right here, right now.

  My sense of decency had me pulling away from Remi, but he held on tighter, squeezing my ass cheeks like they were footballs and he was headed to the end zone.

  He was merely human, and unless he had a tube of holy water like my attacker from earlier, I could easily break away from him. Seemed rude to toss him out after inviting him in, but dammit, he was being presumptuous. I never said I’d fuck him. I merely intended to lie still, “play” dead for him while he pleasured himself. Nothing new.

  I willingly gave him that release in exchange for the life force he unknowingly gave me. Small price to pay for a regular blood source and it eliminated guilt for taking ten vials of his blood without consent. Mutual satisfaction kept me from breaking the commandment thou shalt not steal. An orgasm in exchange for blood equaled fair payment in my book.

  We’d had the same arrangement since he’d first started coming to Hades. He’d walked in fine as hell—tall, dark, and crazy. I knew it the moment he’d pinned his metallic blue, silver-looking stare on me. I’d wanted to bite him, fuck him, and run away at the same time. Nevertheless, he came week after week and I couldn’t stay away from him.

  We’d never had deep conversation though he’d mentioned being a wealthy Israeli. Oh, yeah…he’d also said he loved my complexion and curvy body, loved my performances, loved�
��me. But he’d never pressed the issue of penetration, which was good because that would lead to complications I didn’t need. His self-control had helped me stick to my plan of captivating him, bleeding him, milking him, and getting the hell outta dodge before anyone noticed my kit full of red vials.

  Now, he was ruining it.

  I pulled away, forcefully this time and turned on the nearest lamp. After readjusting my clothes I said, “I need to shower.” He would think it was a result of my performance instead of earlier events with Punch.

  “Oh. Yeah. Right,” he said, looking as if he was returning to his body. “Can I join you?”

  “Not tonight. In fact, I think it was a mistake inviting you in. I wasn’t planning to have sex with you.”

  “Oh.” He looked downtrodden. “I still don’t want to leave, Willow. We can go get breakfast or walk down the bayou. Anything you want. Just don’t make me leave.”

  He was too beautiful for words. All six feet two inches of his perfectly lean-muscled build screamed s-e-x. Long black curls hanging in his face, olive skin in a black v-neck t-shirt, wide black leather wristbands… While his heart rate was returning to normal, if I had one, mine would’ve beat faster. He was so visually stunning, my body was responding to him, and it had nothing to do with fangs.

  I couldn’t very well tell him to stop and that I wasn’t having sex with him then turn around and come on to him. Not his fault I was too conflicted tonight to send clear signals.

  “Willow? Can we go eat after your shower?”

  I’d just been staring, thinking. Lusting.

  “Yeah. Sure.” I wasn’t going to actually eat anything, but I suddenly wanted to spend more time with him.

  Now I remembered why I hadn’t had visitors. And seeing him for the first time outside Hades was making us both react weirdly. What was that about? After the wonderful climax and meal with Punch earlier, I had hoped my hungers were satiated. For a long while. But here I was thinking about what Remi would look like naked. I’d only seen his plentiful erection, now I wanted to see the whole package. What could it hurt?

  After all, a year was a heck of a long time for foreplay.

  “Remi…” I began.

  Chapter 6

  “I’ll step outside for a smoke until you’re finished,” he said as he opened and shut the door behind himself.

  I stood dumfounded…then relieved.

  Whew. That was a close one. If I would have lost control and ripped open an artery while doing him, I would never have forgiven myself. Creepy as he was, he had been there when I needed him. That deserved some loyalty. And if Max would have popped in while I was screwing Remi… I shuddered.

  Remi would have been down for whatever. He wouldn’t have known his limit because he would have enjoyed dying or nearly dying too much. I hadn’t been worried about Punch, on the other hand. Knew he was capable of protecting himself. Or maybe I’d been too famished to care at the time.

  I quickly cleaned myself up, dabbed on a little lipstick, brushed my hair out and sprayed on perfume since it sort of felt like a first date. It wasn’t intentional, but Remi and I matched now that I’d put on a black backless sweater, jeans and calf-high black boots. After he looked me over with appreciative eyes, we were ready.

  He didn’t say much on the way, just asked if I was cool with Katz’s Deli & Bar then drove in silence. It gave me time to peruse his CD selection, which was surprisingly mixed with hip-hop, jazz, classical, heavy metal, and country. Since he was blasting “Party Up” by DMX, I wondered if he was upset I didn’t sleep with him. Y’all gon’ make me lose my mind up in here, up in here…

  I shouldn’t have agreed to this.

  When it came time to order, I remembered why going on a date with a human was a bad idea. Food would make me sick. Did I order something and not eat it? Or did I order nothing and sit like an idiot while he ate?

  I decided to order. I was already an idiot for coming in the first place.

  “You’re not eating, Willow. Aren’t you hungry?” he asked while digging into his fifth pancake like it was an enemy.

  My aunt, who’d been in her forties and had been my best friend, had passed on more to me than her old-school idioms. She’d also schooled me about men. For instance, she’d said you could tell how a man made love by watching him eat. If that was so, Remi believed in tearing some shit up. Good to know. I was more of the slow and sexy type, and damn if Max didn’t have that shit down, but sometimes a girl wanted it rough. Not Valentina rough, just a little less than gentle.

  I thought back to our kiss in my room. He’d devoured my tongue like it was something to keep as a souvenir. But he was teachable. And what he lacked in technique he more than made up for in looks.

  Which was why I was here in the first place, wasn’t it.

  “Not really. I’ll just box it up and take it with me.” And throw it in the motherfucking trashcan.

  He went back to his plate, his brows dipped for deep concentration. Okay this was awkward.

  “So…did you enjoy my show tonight?” I asked.

  “You know I did,” he said without looking up. “Your best one yet. Almost got myself banned from the club.” He laughed and I felt less tense.

  “Must’ve had a change of clothes in your ride. I don’t see any of my blood on you,” I smirked. He’d think I meant fake blood.

  Suddenly, he looked up. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Willow. Your eyes, your smile, your brown skin. The way your ass moves when you walk. The way your tits just…” He looked from one to the other, licked his bottom lip and looked at me intensely.

  I swallowed. “Uh. Thanks. So are you.”

  I’d been tripping earlier from a lack of blood and sex. What was his issue? Maybe I should have gone ahead and fucked him and worried about the aftermath later. If a lack of sex made him this crazy, he didn’t need to miss it. Then again, he’d been on edge since he first entered Hades tonight. Even his usually smooth chin had thick stubble. Something else was up.

  “I can take care of you,” he whispered.

  “What?” Now I realized why he’d been so quiet. He’d been getting up the nerve to bring something up.

  He cleared his throat and spoke up. “Let me take care of you. Of course, you can still perform at Hades…or not, it’s up to you but you don’t have to work—”

  “I love my job.”

  “—as long as you’re with me. We can work it out. Just let me—”

  “Where is this coming from?”

  “—take care of you, Willow. Move in with me.”

  We both froze. This was worse than the L bomb he usually dropped on me. He’d been saying he loved me since we first met at Hades so I didn’t take it seriously. Asking me to live with him was totally surprising.

  The gravity of what all this had been about started weighing on me. I was touched, really I was, but it was never happening.

  “I can’t do that,” I said.

  “Can’t or won’t?” He put his fork down and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

  “Both. You don’t know me, Remi.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I know enough. I want you to live with me.” He dragged a hand through the long, black loose curls at the front of his head. He’d let his hair grow out since I said how much I loved it. “I have a nice condo and money to share,” he said.

  “Your tips have been nice, very generous.” I wondered for the first time what the hell he did for a living. “But I don’t need you to take care of me. I can take care of myself.” Besides, if you have any windows at your place, I’d be toast by morning.

  “You live in a motel. You don’t have to do that. You can even stay in my guestroom if you’d feel more comfortable, although I was hoping—”

  “No.”

  “—you’d want to share my bed. You get me, I get you. It’ll be perfect. I just gotta tell you something about me first but…”

  Putting my hand over his, I looked him straight in his beautiful metallic blues, the color
of his skin making them pop like jewels. We were having two different discussions at this point and needed to get on the same page.

  “I can’t and won’t live with you, Remi. End of story.” Harsh, I know, but how else could I have put it? He was deliberately not listening.

  He licked his lips then held his bottom lip between his teeth and stared. I removed my hand. Oh, no…this creep was about to lose it. Protecting myself meant I’d be exposed in front of surrounding diners. Not good.

  “Why not?” he said.

  I rubbed my index finger across both eyebrows. This was too intense. “I need my privacy. I like being alone.”

  “I thought you liked me. Am I too weird?”

  Yes. “No, of course not. I have narcolepsy. Now that’s weird. Why would you be too weird?”

  “Because I get off on the fact you pass out cold. Because I loved rubbing whatever you used as blood all over my face tonight. Because I fantasize about killing you.”

  Whoa. Hold the phone.

  “You just said you wanted to take care of me now you’re saying you want to kill me?” I said.

  “I wouldn’t really do it. Not to you. I love you. I’m just answering your question about why I’m too weird for you…because the idea of fucking your corpse turns me on. You may perform that shit onstage, but you aren’t into it like I am.”

  True.

  Never would have dreamt people enjoyed mixing sex and death. I stumbled upon my niche at Hades when a failed attempt at captivating Franco for dinner turned to him offering me a job. I auditioned to perform at Hades as a necrophilia specialist since I was technically dead, though animated by magic. I loved performing before an audience and my narcolepsy fit in perfectly.

  But yes. It was weird.

  “Please don’t look at me like that, Willow. I don’t have anybody but you.”

  Shit, who was I to judge? I was far from normal. “Don’t you have family?” I said.

  I started feeling cool, like a gentle breeze was ruffling the hair on my neck. It was too cold out for air conditioning, but I was definitely feeling a breeze. I looked around. Nope. I was nowhere near a vent.

 

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