by Lila Dubois
“Why? He’s a prick.”
“Well he almost killed Lena in an effort to stop us from making the movie I’m currently trying to write. I think there’s something worth talking about there.”
“It is unpleasant.”
“I know, we heard a bit of it on the night he came to LA. Can you tell me more?”
“What do you want to know? I would rather spare you the details of the torture.”
“Can you tell me what happened, without the details?”
“Runako’s sister was one of the few female monsters who lived long enough to become an adult. She was his other half, part of him. They were more than siblings, they were twins, and had a psychic bond between them.
“She’d gone hunting for food. She ventured too far down the mountain. There were humans.”
“Hunters?”
“Maybe, we don’t know. We never saw them, and what Runako could see through her eyes was not enough to allow him to identify them. Whoever they were, they were far from ordinary humans. They captured her, took her in a truck far away, to a white room. When she was in the truck they severed her wings so she couldn’t get away.
“Once she was under their power they tortured her, keeping her alive even as they cut her open.”
“And Runako?”
“Because of their psychic bond he felt it all, lived her pain and fear as if it were happening to him.”
“Was there any chance of rescue?”
“If she had not been so scared, suffering so much, it might have been possible for her to give Runako more clues. Had she been mated, her mate would have been able to find her.”
“Really?”
“Yes, a mate can always find his or her partner.”
“Can they read one another’s thoughts?”
“No, not the way twins can.”
“But mates have some sort of power that allows them to always find their partner? Wait, does Luke have that with Lena?”
“Yes.”
Jane’s eyes widened and Michael had a terrible feeling he shouldn’t have admitted that. Jane typed furiously for a few minutes and then looked up.
“What was her name?”
“We do not speak it, as a sign of respect.”
“What happened after she died?”
“There was panic. Many monsters, especially from the less powerful clans, chose to take their own lives, rather than face being captured. Others began forming an army, studying human weaponry.”
Michael looked at his hands. Runako’s sister had been beautiful and fierce, strong and fearless, the best the females of their kind could be. Her loss had been hard, compounded by the suicides that had followed.
“Thank you for telling me that. I know it must have been hard.”
Michael shrugged. He preferred not to dwell on it. If he did, an anger nearly beyond his control rose within him. The silence stretched between them, so Michael opened Jane’s sandwich and handed it to her. They ate in silence, Michael quickly polishing off his sandwich then leaning back on the couch to watch her.
She licked a bit of mustard from the corner of her mouth and Michael groaned. He was impressed with his own restraint, but as he watched her eat, her pretty jaw flexing, her slim fingers reaching up to brush aside the hair that angled over her forehead, the desire that was always just below the surface boiled up.
It was partly a defense mechanism. He’d learned to use passion, sex, as a way to let out some of the fire in his blood that might otherwise turn to anger. After the horror of Runako’s sister’s death had passed, Michael had left the clan and spent two weeks straight having sex with a succubus to relieve some of the madness in his blood.
He’d had enough of Jane’s questions. Now it was time to talk about far more interesting things. Things best discussed naked.
Chapter Eight
Michael reached over and closed the lid of her laptop. “Time to talk about more interesting things.”
Jane lifted her gaze slowly, meeting his. The power shifted, from her to him, with that single look, and Michael took full advantage, reaching up to brush her hair back the way he’d seen her do so many times.
“I need—I need to research. I still have questions.” She looked, somewhat frantically, at the closed laptop.
“I’ll help you research.”
“Not naked sex research, monster research.”
“I’m a monster, therefore anything you do with me will be research.”
“Are you suggesting I sleep with you for the sake of the screenplay?”
“Would that work?”
“No.”
“Then I’m not suggesting it.”
Jane snatched up a notebook she’d left on the table and flipped through it. “I-I still have questions, lots of them.”
“What if I tell you a story?” he asked, smiling wickedly and cocking one eyebrow.
“What kind of story?” she said suspiciously.
“That depends on what you like, on what will make you…feel.”
“I’m looking for research material, just that.”
“There is nothing else I could give you, nothing you want from me?”
“No…no.”
“You’re lying.”
“How can you be so sure, about everything?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes you are. I don’t understand how you can keep pushing without feeling rejected.”
“Are you rejecting me?”
“In a way. I don’t mean to, because you are a great…guy, but I’m just not comfortable with this.”
“I won’t stop, not unless you tell me no.”
Jane tossed the notebook onto the table and leapt to her feet. She’d been sitting quietly, head bent, but now her chin was up and bright blooms of color flagged her cheeks.
“Haven’t you been listening? I said no.”
Michael rose, grabbed her hips and pulled her forward, until their bodies touched from navel to knee. Her eyes were like diamonds, lit from within.
“You haven’t said no. You’ve said you’re scared. You’ve said you’re not ready. You’ve never said no, because you don’t want to. For now I’m offering to tell you a story, nothing more.”
She turned away and he let her go. She was trembling slightly, enough for him to detect it, though a human man could not have. Why was she torturing them both this way?
His ire rose, pushing through the lust and need to protect. She was both the object of his desire and the thing that stood between him and that goal.
“You want a story?” His voice was deep, menacingly so, and he watched her straighten, felt the change in the air as she came awake to the danger. “I’ll tell you a story.”
“I don’t think I want to hear it anymore.”
“Well I want to tell it, and you will listen.” He stalked around her, using his knuckles to tilt her chin up until she looked at him. “You will listen.”
“Michael…”
“You are not to speak.”
She nodded agreement, eyes wide. Her submission stroked his ego and fanned the fires of his lust.
“We are monsters, meant to frighten you. Meant to rule this planet, not to be driven into hiding by the humans.” His gaze locked on her, he began walking, circling her. When she started to turn, to follow his movement, he prevented her, holding her shoulder so she remained facing forward. He stepped up to her back, setting his lips against her ear as he began his story.
“Have you heard of dragons? Fierce beasts that dwell in the rocky caves of Europe, or the red and purple serpents of the East. Have you, little human?”
She shivered from his breath on her neck and he watched her sweet round breasts heave with each small panting breath.
“Humans used to know the dragons, fear them. They would offer gifts to appease the monsters. Food, jewels and sometimes…women.”
Jane’s breath caught in her chest, a small hitch.
“Have you heard this story before?”
&
nbsp; Jane nodded.
Michael circled to her front, cupping her face in one palm. “How does the story go?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“Why must you always lie to yourself? Why do you hide what is in you?”
“I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of saying too much.” But she already had, whether she knew it or not.
Michael slipped around to her back, curling his arms around her waist. “The monster has destroyed much of a little human village. The humans are afraid. They watch the mountains in fear, knowing the dragon lurks there. They will not survive unless he is stopped.”
“They fight him,” Jane said, voice whisper soft.
“No, he is too strong, too powerful. They fear him, fear the monster.”
“They offer him something, a gift, like an appeasement to the gods.”
“He is a god to them,” Michael whispered.
“But they fear him.”
“A god should be feared.” He pressed an open-lipped kiss to her neck. “What do they offer the dragon?”
“A gift.”
“They’ve offered many gifts already.”
“A different gift.”
“What do they offer, little human?”
“A girl,” Jane breathed, eyes fluttering closed.
“Yesss,” Michael hissed, like the dragon in the story. “A girl. But not just any girl.”
“The most beautiful girl, with long dark hair—”
“—no, it is pale as moonbeams, like yours—”
“—a virgin.”
“Oh yes, she is untouched. Pure.”
Jane turned her face to his. “I’m not a virgin.”
“Human men don’t count. You’re a virgin to me.” Michael dropped his gaze from her eyes to her lips. They were flushed gentle pink, yet what he wanted to do to those lips was not gentle at all.
“What happened to the girl, Jane? Tell me the story.”
Caught now in the tale, her storyteller’s heart would not allow her to leave it unfinished. She’d fallen into his trap, for what better way to seduce a storyteller than with words?
“She is afraid, but willing, because her sacrifice will save her people. She bathes, slowly, washing each inch of skin. Wiping away tears as they fall. They dress her, her friends, the women of her family, in the finest garments they have. She does not cry in front of them, but does not smile.” Jane whispered the words, her eyes closed. Michael used her preoccupation to begin touching her, gentling her with his hands on her body. He started with her arms, running his palms up and down them.
“She is strong and brave, a warrior,” he whispers, sliding one hand under the front of her shirt to lay his palm on her belly.
“She’s afraid.”
“But she does what is asked of her, that makes her brave.”
Jane shook her head, a crease forming between her brows, and Michael pressed his lips to her cheek, abandoning that line of reasoning.
“They take her to the mountains. What happens next?” he whispered against her cheek.
“The whole village goes. It’s a procession, a parade, with her in the center. As they climb higher the others leave, falling back, until there’s just her. She’s alone now.”
“Not alone, the monster is there, waiting for her.”
“She climbs higher, tearing her clothes on the rocks and then—” Jane turned her face and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth in a virginal kiss.
“What happens?” she asked against his lips.
Unable to help himself Michael rubbed his cock against her soft hip, needing some contact, some relief. She spooked, twitching in his arms. He loosened his hold on her waist but did not release her.
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and then continued the story.
“The dragon comes down from the mountain. He’s been watching the girl. He wants her.”
“Why?” Jane asked.
“She is strong and brave, beautiful.”
“But he’s a monster, what could he want with a human?”
“Maybe he’s lonely.”
“Lonely? Michael, are you—”
“The dragon lands beside her and curls his tail around her. Tighter, tighter.” Michael pulled Jane back against his chest, one arm sliding down to press her hips against him. His other arm moved up, forearm positioned between her breasts to hold her upper body in place, his hand curling over her shoulder.
“What did the dragon do then?” Jane asked.
Her voice was husky and he could smell her arousal. His need for her was as fierce as the monster he spoke of, the monster he was.
“He took her away with him, to his cave. And he kept her there. His forever.”
“What did the dragon do with the girl?”
“Whatever he pleased.”
Jane shuddered in his arms, her shivers passing through her body to him.
“Michael,” she moaned, and he could take no more.
He spun her in his arms and slammed their bodies together. He wrapped one arm over her shoulders, holding her in place for a kiss that was savage and wild, all the things he was, all the things that hid beneath the thin human skin he now wore.
Her mouth opened under his demand, her parted lips allowing his tongue entry. She responded, her tongue dueling with his, her body flexing against him. He had her. He could feel her passion rising, and this time she would not escape him, this time he would have her, and when it was over…
When it was over she would regret it. She would see it as a trick.
Michael stilled against her. Until that moment it had not occurred to him to think beyond that first coupling.
Hating himself for being ten kinds of fool he broke the kiss. Jane pressed her lips to his jaw, kissing down his neck. “No, Jane, stop.”
Her quick pecking kisses slowed then stopped. She leaned away, and there was a storm in her eyes.
“Why are we stopping?”
“Because I want you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. I’m ready, you’ve won.”
“I want that to be true, but I’m afraid that the moment I let go of you, you’ll run away and I’ll never get to touch you again.”
Jane stepped away, putting distance between them. Michael curled his hands into fists to prevent himself from grabbing her.
“Jane, I hope you know how much I want you.”
“I know you want me, but, frankly, I don’t understand what you want from me. You want sex, and not a relationship, but want a commitment so you know the sex will happen again.”
“Yes.”
“That’s… Michael that’s not fair, you can’t ask that of me.”
“That’s what I want.”
“And what about what I want?”
“Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
“I want to be more than a fuck-buddy.”
“You want a relationship?”
“No!” she shouted, starling both of them. “I’m sorry, but I’m not ready for a relationship.”
“Then why were you angry that I said I didn’t want one either?”
“I still want you to want to be in a relationship with me.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” She waved her hand through the air, brushing that aside. “You expect me to trust you, to have sex with you, to let you teach me about this ‘passion’ you see in me, and yet you don’t trust me.”
“I trust you,” he said cautiously. He had a very bad feeling about where this was going.
“No you don’t. You won’t talk about yourself except in periphery ways.”
“Jane, if the thought of sex with me disgusts you, I’ll leave you alone.” He hated saying it, but he realized it was true. He wanted her, but he also wanted her happy, protected, even if it meant from himself. Damned honor.
“That’s not what this is about. I’ve realized this is about trust. You’re asking me to make myself vulnerable so you can
teach me ‘passion’. That takes a lot of trust, and for this to work I need you to show me that same level of trust.”
His desire for her was a knotted ball in his belly, crippling him to all but her. She looked so earnest, standing there in her jeans and T-shirt, hair up in a bouncy ponytail. Late-afternoon light flooded the windows and highlighted her hair, creating a pale gold halo around her head, almost like an angel. Scratch that, he hated that word.
“What can I do to make you trust me?”
Jane smiled and Michael swallowed a whimper. Sweet and earnest had morphed to cold-blooded and calculated with terrifying rapidity.
“Tell me your secrets. Turn into a monster for me.”
“No.” Michael slashed his hand through the air.
“That’s what I want.”
“So you are willing to fuck me for the sake of the screenplay,” he said with a snarl, hoping to hurt her.
“Don’t be an ass. I already told you I wouldn’t do that. This is about…us, about trust.”
Michael turned his back to her and sighed. He felt rather than heard her come up behind him. She curled her hand over his shoulder and laid her cheek on his back.
“I can’t promise you I won’t be scared of you as a monster. I wish I could, but I can’t. But I can promise not to put any details about you into the screenplay. If your privacy means that much to you, then I’ll keep you out of it. I still need you to talk to me, to tell me things, but I won’t put the details of your life and what you are in there.”
He turned and cupped her face. “You don’t know what you promise.”
“I’ll make it work without including details relevant to you. I’ll make it work.”
He cupped her chin and stoked her cheek with his thumb. “You’re very special. I don’t know what it is about you, but there is something…pure in you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, pressing her lips to the pad of his thumb. “Now, let’s work out the details of this little…arrangement.”
Chapter Nine
“You agreed to what?”
“You heard me the first time,” Jane said irritably, holding the phone between her shoulder and ear as she cleaned the kitchen.
“Hold on, I’m conferencing in Margo.”
“Lena! Wait, don’t.” Jane was talking to hold music. “Damn it.” She should have known telling her friend was a bad idea. Repeating the “deal” she’d brokered with Michael out loud had made is seem even more asinine, but not telling her friends was practically against her religion.