She unscrews the top and raises it in the air. "Over the lips and through the gums, watch out gut, here it comes." Then follows through with a healthy swig. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she grins as she holds it out to me, I eye it suspiciously. I've had my encounters with Jonesy's wicked brews. Not something I can say I’ve enjoyed much.
"Go on, take it," she says, waving the flask at me. "It's the good stuff. It's real. A fifty year old Scotch. None of that crap they call booze here. I have a nice supply of this stuff I keep hidden for special occasions."
I refrain from asking where or how she got it. I don't think I want to know. Instead, I accept the offered flask and take a mouthful. It burns! All the way down the gullet, straight to the gut. So of course I take another.
"It's good," I gasp, my throat burning with every word. I try to hand it back but she waves it away.
"Keep it. I think you may need this a little more than me at the moment. You can return it when you get back. Okay?" The look in her faded gray eyes belies the smile on her lips. She's worried I won't come back. Her concern touches me on so many levels.
"I promise," I say, blinking rapidly against the tears forming in my eyes. I just hope it's a promise I can keep. She studies my face before unexpectedly pulling me into a tight embrace, my body groaning in protest at the painful contact. She's got quite a grip, for a frail little old lady. Must be the Scotch. But I don’t push her away. It feels nice.
"Promise me something else," she whispers, as she holds me close and strokes my hair soothingly.
"What?" I say, through the thickness in my throat.
"Promise me you’ll take a shower. Like right now. No offense, but you really do smell, dear."
I laugh wetly into her shoulder. That's a promise I'm able to keep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The last few days had been a nightmare. Finding out about the existence of a new evolved leech. Living through two damned explosions. Covered in bruises and cuts from asshole to appetite. But it was all a piece of cake compared to dealing with Amy right now.
I had gone to see her and Liv as soon as I finished taking Mrs. D’s advice and showered up. The water helped me to feel human again, but it hadn’t washed away any of my dread at telling them the news.
"Why do you have to leave again?" Amy glares at me over her folded arms, repeating that same question over and over. I sigh gently to myself, keeping my frustration with her hidden.
"Amy, I told you. It's my job. I have to leave so you and everybody here at the Grand will be safe from the leeches."
"No." She shakes her head at my answer. "I don't want you to go again. You just got home. I want you to stay here with me."
"Amy, you know Bixby doesn't have a choice." Even Liv is losing patience with the girl, and when it comes to Amy, she usually has the patience of a saint. "Now calm down. You’re going to give yourself a nose bleed."
"I don't care. I don't care. I don't care!" Each shout is accompanied by a foot stamp and her face is getting redder by the moment. Not wanting to face a full blown tantrum, I lay a comforting hand on her shoulder but she shrugs it away.
"I don't want you to go. No, no, no, no." She screams in my face.
Oh for Christ sake. I really don't understand what has her so worked up this time. I’ve never seen her react like this before. It's kind of unnerving me, not to mention trying my patience. At my wits end, I give Liv my 'what the fuck?' look.
"Amy, stop it right now." Liv's stern voice has the desired effect. Amy’s not used to hearing that tone from Liv and stops yelling. She keeps glowering at me though.
“I've gone out hundreds of times, Ames. I always come back. Why are you freaking out?"
She refuses to answer my question. Quiet now, she just keeps glowering at me with her typical tongue protruding and stubborn look. I know that look all too well. I may as well give up on her. Sighing, I throw my hands up in the air.
"Fine. Whatever. I just wanted to say goodbye before I leave in the morning, but if you're gonna glower at me all night then I'm out. I'll see you both when I get back." I start to go.
"Please don't go, Bix," Amy's broken whisper stops me in my tracks. I look back, shocked to see tears in her eyes. All of a sudden her face falls and she runs at me, nearly knocking me over as she crashes into my chest. My arms enfold her and I pull her close, as she starts sobbing in my chest.
"Hey, what’s with the waterworks? Stop that now." If the angry Amy had pissed me off, this crying one has thrown me for a loop. I don't know what to do with her as I pat her back awkwardly and mouth the words 'help me' to Liv.
Live comes to my rescue. "Why you crying baby girl?" she asks, as she wraps her arms around the both of us and lays her chin on Amy's curly head.
"Cause Bix isn't coming back," Amy moans into my chest and I start at the finality of her words. What the hell does that mean?
Liv's shocked expression certainly must reflect my own. Pulling her away from my chest, she stares the girl in the face.
"Of course she is. Why would you say such a thing?"
"Sam told me."
The words are like a dash of ice water down my neck. Liv's brow furrows in puzzlement.
"What are you talking about, Love? What do you mean, Sam told you?"
"Last night in my dreams. Sam was talking to me like he always does. And he said I had to tell Bix she couldn't go on this run. Said it was too dangerous and that if she went, things would never be the same. That she wouldn't come back. Bix, I can't lose you too, like Sammy. I can't!"
The waterworks start up again and I swallow hard, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat.
"Awww, baby girl, it was just a dream." Liv wipes the tears gently from Amy's face. "Bix will be fine. Besides, I don't think Sam was telling you that you were going to lose Bix. I think maybe he was just warning her to be careful."
"Liv is right." I smile at the girl, even though her words have unnerved me. "So I promise to be extra careful. And besides, where we’re going is a whole new area. I just might find that movie you're looking for. What is it again? SpiderMan, or something like that?"
"DragonHeart," she replies, part sob, part laugh. But a slight smile tilts her lips. I'm glad to see the smile, as small as it is. Her eyes open wide then, like she just remembered something important. "Wait right here," she orders me and makes a beeline for her room. I watch her go.
"It's just a dream, Bixby," Liv says to me gently and I nod, struggling to hide my fear.
"I know. It still freaked me out some, gotta admit."
"Yeah, me too. That was fucking spooky as hell,” Liv says.
“Oh thanks for the cheerful optimism. Makes me feel so much better,” I say drily.
Liv chooses to ignore my sarcasm. “She’s right, though. I don’t understand why you’re going on this mission either. You’re exhausted, it’s plain to see. Why don’t you ask Cooper if you can stay out of this one… "
“No,” I say vehemently, cutting her off. “I’m not backing out. I need to do this.”
Thankfully Amy chooses that moment to come barreling back in, preventing Liz from prying into my overzealous response. How can I explain it to her when I don’t understand the obsession myself? The girl’s plump fist is held out in front of her like she’s holding an object of utmost importance.
"I almost forgot. Sam said I had to give you this."
She shoves the object in my face. It’s the dragon necklace Sam had given her for her 16th birthday. An intricate, stainless steel work of art. Amy had instantly fallen in love with the piece but had been thrilled even more when she found out the tail was actually a small knife blade. Sam had been tickled pink by her reaction.
I stare at it sadly. The memory of the day he had found it as clear in my head as if it were yesterday.
We had still been in training as hunters and shouldn't even have walked away from Cooper and the group that day, but Sam was determined to find her something for her birthday. So while Cooper was
showing the group of twenty-five how to clear a building of leeches, we crept two blocks over to the main district.
We knew exactly where we were headed. On the way earlier we spotted the game shop Sam used to practically live in as a kid, before the world went to shit. The stairway to the upper level shop was tucked inconspicuously between two brownstone jewelers. Easily overlooked if you didn't know it was there.
The windows had long since been busted out and everything was covered in layers of dust and grime. But we clung to the hope that this place wouldn't have been looted like the jewelry stores down below.
We were right. Unlike the shops on the main level, it had barely been touched. I never did get the looting part. I mean, what good was a bag full of jewelry in an alien invasion? Diamonds may be a girl’s best friend but they sure as hell wouldn't stop a leech from ripping out your throat.
It hadn't taken us long to find the costume jewelry stand. Knocked over and laying in a pile of dead leaves and covered in dirt and cobwebs. We’d cleared away the leaves and stood it back upright. The cardboard backings had rotted away and most of the cheap, silver plated charms had fallen to the floor in a din of clatter. Not this one though. Not the one he specifically had in mind. I remember our shocked surprise at it still being there. But there it was, hanging like it was meant to be.
We snatched up the steel dragon and hightailed back to the group, giggling all the way like two little school kids that had gotten away with playing hooky. Only we hadn't gotten away with anything. Cooper had been standing on the corner waiting for us, the look on his face plainly stating we were in some serious shit. Five weeks of dish duty had been our punishment for that one. But the excitement on Amy's face at the sight of the gift had been worth every damn minute of 'dishpan hands'.
Now that item she treasured most above anything else Sam had ever given her, is being offered willingly to me.
"I can't take that, Amy. That was your sweet 16th gift. Sam would never want you to give that away."
"Sammy said you needed it more than I did," she replies calmly, still holding it out to me. When I don't take the offering she jiggles it at me impatiently. "Take it, Bix." I start to shake my head. "Please," she pleads quietly. I can't refuse that plea. Nodding slightly, I let her place it around my neck. Her arms fold around my waist once more as she pulls me close.
"Promise me you'll be safe and come back. Because you know how I feel about promises."
"I promise," I say around the lump in my throat. Liv steps in for a hug as well but I cut it short. Their damn touchy-feely shit is getting to me, and I need to get out of here before I make a blubbering fool of myself.
"See you on the flip side, ladies," I choke the words over my shoulder as I bolt from the room.
I clutch at the necklace like it’s a lifeline, making my way down the poorly lit stairwell. Amy's words have bothered me far more than I care to admit. Was it just a dream, or was it an omen of something about to occur?
As many runs as I’ve been on over the years; as many times I’ve faced leeches, what we’re doing tomorrow is something totally new and a hundred times more dangerous. Even though my heart is telling me I have to do this, my gut is telling me Amy may just be right.
On edge and fear thrumming through my body, I make a sudden decision. Passing by my floor, I take the stairwell down to the next level. As much as I hate to admit it, I don't want to be alone tonight. I don't want to think about what is...and what may be. I don't want to think at all. I need a distraction. And I know exactly what kind of distraction I want. Hopefully, he will let me in.
***
"All right already. I'm coming." Luke's deep voice penetrates the door in response to my insistent knocking. The door is yanked open and I'm treated to a whole lot of manly eye candy. My eyes move slowly from the rumpled blonde hair, down the toned bare chest and muscled pecs. My heartbeat spikes into overdrive as my gaze drops even further. Down the flat, ripped abs to the seriously low hanging drawstring sweats. I must have gotten him out of bed. What a shame.
"Why don't you take a fucking picture, it would last longer." He throws my words back at me, but there's no malice in them, only underlying amusement. I tear my eyes away, suddenly realizing I was reacting to him like some cat in heat. I can feel the warmth flooding my cheeks.
He leans into the door and crosses his arms across that impressive chest. Raising a brow he says, “Are you gonna stand there gawking all night, or are you gonna tell me why you aren't in bed trying to get some sleep before we leave..." he glances at the watch on his wrist. “...in about five hours?"
I scowl at him to cover my embarrassment. "Are you gonna talk my damn ear off all night, or are you gonna ask me in, dickwad?"
This elicits that damned sexy, dimpled grin. Rubbing a hand over his stubbly jaw he moves obligingly out of my way with an exaggerated flourish of his arm. “Come on in, you silver tongued devil.”
I slide past him into the room, slamming the door behind me with my foot.
"So, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?” I cut him off abruptly, planting my mouth firmly on his before I can change my mind. To his credit, he overcomes his surprise quickly enough. After his initial shock, his lips respond to mine, greedy and hungry. I run my hands up his bare back. I can feel the heat radiating of off his body and it starts a fire burning in my lower regions. God, I love the feel of his body.
Without breaking contact from his delectable lips I start unbuttoning my shirt and yanking at the sleeves, fighting to get the damn thing off.
"Bix," he moans against my lips.
I respond by nipping his bottom lip gently between my teeth, tugging gently as the shirt falls to the floor.
"Bix," he says again, more urgently this time and pushing me away slightly.
"What?" I snap. Is he seriously shutting me down right now?
"You sure about this?" he asks, his brown eyes staring into mine. No, he isn't trying to stop me. In typical Luke fashion, he’s making sure I really want this. God help me. What am I going to do with him? The erotic images popping into my head gives me all the answer I need.
I respond by reaching behind my back and unhooking my bra. Slowly, I shimmy my way out of it and hold it out at arm’s length before letting it slip from my fingers. His eyes open wide and roam hungrily over my bare breasts. I swear I can feel the heat from his gaze scorch my skin and my nipples stiffen in response. My breath quickens as his finger trails lightly up my stomach, stopping on my chest and the small dragon hanging there. He touches it with a raised brow.
"Isn't this Amy's?" he questions quietly, but I don't want to go into any detail.
"You wanna talk? Or you wanna do this?"
He licks his lips, his eyes dropping down to my chest again. I can see the very obvious effect my nakedness is having on him.
"Talking is so fucking overrated," he whispers, as he slips his arm around my waist. He pulls me close crushing my naked chest to his hot flesh, and I can feel that pleasurable ache throbbing between my thighs.
My hands slide down his thick forearms, and my fingers gently brush across his abdomen. He jumps at my touch. His hands tangle in my hair, the evidence of his overwhelming need fueling my own sharp desire.
I fumble at his waist, untying his sweats and he deftly steps out of them. A low groan vibrates in his chest as his throbbing nakedness comes into contact with my bare stomach. He starts to move and I clutch at him needily, trying to steady myself as he steers me backward toward the rumpled bed.
Lowering me onto the mattress, he yanks at my denims with a frantic urgency. I lift my bottom to better accommodate. In one fell swoop the jeans and underwear come off and get tossed carelessly to the floor. He falls onto the bed, bracing himself above me. I raise my arms to twine around his neck but he catches my bandaged arm in his big hand, a look of concern overriding the desire.
"Your injuries..." he says, but I shake my head at him.
"It's fine, just a few stitches. Don't stop," I urge
pleadingly. I don’t have to twist his arm.
Slowly, he lowers his head until his lips are back on mine. The kiss is long and hard, and in it I can feel how much he wants this. How much he wants me.
He breaks away, his lips switching to my neck now. Feathery kisses pepper my neck, my collarbone, causing goosebumps to erupt over my fevered skin. His tongue trails down the valley between my breasts and I can feel every nerve ending spark to life. He dips lower still. Tantalizing, butterfly soft kisses trail down my stomach, along my inner thighs and I squirm in anticipation. He finally nestles between my thighs and my body spasms from the slight flickering of his tongue. I want to scream from the exquisiteness of the sensations. Soft moans of pleasure escape my lips in little breaths and he responds in kind, like some primitive mating call. I close my eyes reveling in the ecstasy, my fists curling into the blankets.
Right before that moment though, just before the point of my no return, he stops. I cry in protest as my eyes pop open in utter disbelief. Lifting my head I stare down between my legs, fearing he must have keeled over from a heart attack, or a brain hemorrhage, or some sort of tongue atrophy. There can't possibly be any other reason for him to stop doing what he’s doing.
Luke stares back at me, fit as a fiddle. A huge jackass of a grin plastered across his face at knowing damn well he’s just left me hanging on that precipice. I am going to kill him.
"What the fuck?" I say in disbelief.
"What's the matter, Bix?" He mocks, with this totally fake, wide eyed innocence. "No fun being blue-balled is it?"
Ah, so that's what this is. Payback. Sonofabitch.
"Okay, you made your point. Now finish what you started," I threaten through gritted teeth.
"Ask me nicely," he says, running a finger teasingly up my thigh.
"Fuck you," I growl in response.
"You can...if you ask me nicely," he chuckles softly.
I have every intention of telling him where to go and what to do to himself once he got there. Emma Bixby doesn't beg for no one. But his wandering finger skims across the apex between my legs, and dips teasingly, causing me to arch my back like some damned cat.
Strain of Resistance (Book 1) Page 12