by Sienna Parks
She’s cute when she’s flustered. I can hear her heart beating fast as she wipes her face and moves out of the doorway to let me in. I can’t help myself as I brush past her. I lift my thumb and remove the last of the flour from her cheek. “You missed a spot.” I’m rewarded with a blush of pink under her skin.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll be five minutes, ten max. Can I get you a drink before I go?”
“I’m sure I can find my way to the kitchen. You do your thing. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
She hurries upstairs, and I have to stop myself from following her when I hear the sound of the shower being turned on. Knowing that she’s up there naked and wet just above where I’m standing has me aching to touch her. I distract myself finding the refrigerator and helping myself to a nice cold beer. I take this opportunity to take in my surroundings. Her house reflects her perfectly, a simple elegance and warmth which envelops you the moment you walk in the door. There are bookshelves full of world mythology, religion, and anthropology. I notice some titles with her name on the spine. She is quite prolific in her field. Beauty and intelligence—a deadly combination to any man, human or otherwise. I’m interested to read her beliefs on the mythology surrounding me and my brothers, and her thoughts on religion in general. As I start flicking through the pages of one of her books, I notice a picture frame on the wall beside the shelves. I know nothing about this woman, so I’ll take any information I can glean while she’s upstairs.
I stand confused as I stare at the photograph in front of me. It’s of Sirena at her college graduation. She looks so happy, a stunning smile on her face captured at that moment and preserved for posterity. However, it’s not her smile that confuses me, it’s the man standing next to her.
“I’m glad you found the beer.” I turn to see Sirena walking toward me, my heart in my throat as I look back at the picture hanging on her living room wall. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine. Just intimidated by the fact that you’re not only the top professor in your field, but apparently, you’re a prolific author as well. Not just one title, but at least a dozen here on your bookshelves.”
“Snooping while I was in the shower, were you?” The smirk on her face and the confidence in her voice make me smile.
“Just making myself at home as you suggested.”
“I hope you’re hungry. I may have gone a little overboard. I think I’ve made enough food to feed the five thousand!”
“I have a big appetite.” Even though I don’t need to eat, it’s a pleasant habit I’ve formed over the centuries to fit in with human society. So much of their lives is spent eating together, it’s unavoidable.
“Good.” There’s a moment’s pause. I don’t know if she’s nervous, or shy, or feeling awkward. Perhaps she’s realized she invited an almost complete stranger into her house for one of the biggest family holidays of the year. “I hope I’m not keeping you from having dinner with your family today?”
“We’re not the Thanksgiving type. I haven’t seen my family in years.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s in the past.” It’s not often I miss my brothers because I shut off that part of myself when I left, but after seeing Cole, I remember how nice it felt to be a part of The Brotherhood. “What about you? Why are you having dinner with a veritable stranger today of all days?”
“My folks are out of town this year. I usually spend the holiday with them, but they decided to do something different this year. They’re in Aspen this week.”
“And they didn’t invite you?”
“I had too much work to take time off to go with them. As for the veritable stranger, we’ve seen each other a few times now, and you saved me from cracking my skull on a marble floor, so I don’t consider us strangers.”
“Well, when you put it like that, it makes total sense.” I smile as she rests her hand on my arm.
“Plus… I wanted to say thank you. Nothing says thanks for holding me during a seizure like a big turkey dinner and some homemade pumpkin pie.”
Her laughter is infectious, and I can’t help but join her. I don’t remember the last time I laughed. It’s… nice.
We make small talk as Sirena puts the finishing touches on the dinner. I asked if I could help with anything, but she won’t hear of it. I sit on one of the bar stools trying not to show how uncomfortable I am. Human furniture wasn’t built with the comfort of supernatural beings my size in mind! Of course, to her, I look like an average guy so my discomfort would be strange. I watch as she glides around the kitchen with effortless ease.
“Is there anything that you’re not good at? Professor, author, and now chef.”
“Hardly. I have a handful of recipes in my arsenal that I can make well. Other than that, I’m a take-out girl. This is all for show. I had to call my mom and get her to walk me through basting the turkey this morning.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Now I can feel marginally less inadequate.”
She looks me up and down taking stock of every detail. “I doubt you have ever felt inadequate in your life.”
“I could make the same assumption about you.”
The tension is palpable. An electrical current sparking between us, but at the same time, the conversation begins to flow, and I feel myself relax in her company. She’s funny, sexy, and not afraid to be silly. Spending time with a woman that is so self-assured is a breath of fresh air for me. I’ve spent thousands of years with thousands of women, and every last one of them needed validation from me, from everyone around them that they were worthy of attention, of love, even of the meaningless sex we shared. Other than Selma, I’ve never been able to be myself with a woman. I guess this is the closest I’ll get. We talk all through dinner, and I make her sit on a barstool with a glass of wine while I clean the dishes. I’m in unchartered territory here. Domesticity isn’t my thing. Talking to a woman without having an angle to corrupt her is new to me, and as the night goes on, I find myself wishing more than anything that I could show her who I am and be honest about what I am.
“So… Lux. I’ve been prattling on about my life and career. What about you? I know you’re a paramedic. Tell me something else about yourself.”
I down the rest of my drink, the memory of our last conversation slapping me in the face. She saw me at the hospital as this guy when I thought I had disguised myself as someone else. And she said I was at her lecture.
“I’ve barely scratched the surface of what I want to know about you, Professor. Where are you from?”
“Uh uh. I want to know something about you before I give any more answers.”
“Okay. You get one question, and then I want to know where you’re from.”
“What made you want to become a paramedic?” Not the question I was expecting.
Before I know what I’m saying, I find myself spinning a version of the truth about my life entangled in a web of lies. “My girlfriend was killed some years ago. I wasn’t able to save her. I felt so helpless. I’d never felt like that before, and I never want to feel that way again.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Please don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t deserve it.”
She moves closer to me resting her hand on my knee. “Why would you say something like that?”
“I couldn’t save her. She was taken from me. I didn’t see it coming, but I should have. I should have been there to take care of her, to make sure she was safe. Instead, she died alone. I wasn’t there to hold her in my arms and tell her I loved her.” I’m shocked by the words coming out of my mouth. I haven’t spoken about that night to anyone, ever. Not even Selma. I’ve been plagued by guilt that I tried to shut off every emotion I ever felt toward Abiteth.
Her voice is small and full of understanding as she speaks. “It wasn’t your fault. You can’t carry that burden. It’s not yours to bear.” She begins to rub my leg—her eyes fixed on mine. “I’m sure she knew how much you loved her.�
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“I hope so.” Even as I speak the words, the love I felt for Abi seems like it happened to someone else. I feel so disconnected from the person I was then, the people we were when we were together. It all seems like a black and white movie compared to this moment with this woman. Every emotion, every sense is heightened when I’m in her vicinity. I don’t know how to explain it, but I can see in her eyes… that she feels it, too—a tangible tether. I know that if I lean in, if I let myself kiss her, she won’t push me away. But I don’t want her to kiss me out of sympathy for a conversation about Abi. I don’t want Sirena to be connected to that side of me in any way.
I break the spell standing to make my way to the kitchen to retrieve the wine from the refrigerator. When I return, I pour us both another glass finishing off our second bottle. I’m unaffected by alcohol, but Sirena is feeling the effects. She’s less inhibited around me, less guarded. I can see the disappointment on her face and also a hint of determination. I doubt any man has ever turned her down.
I watch as she smiles into her glass darting her tongue out to feel the bubbles caressing her, tantalizing her. She knows my eyes are transfixed on her mouth. I’m certain of it.
“You owe me an answer now. I answered your question, now you answer mine. Where are you from?” I sit down on the opposite side of the couch trying to clear my head. I came here to get my questions answered, and at this point, I have so many more.
She immediately closes the distance between us. Slow and deliberate, she stalks me, her lithe body gliding toward me with practiced ease. Every move she makes oozes sex appeal. “Okay. I’ll make you a deal. If I answer your question, you need to answer another one of mine.” She’s practically whispering in my ear at this point, and I can feel my skin prickle with excitement.
“Done.”
She sits back down, her thigh barely touching mine. Just enough to make it difficult for me to concentrate on the task at hand. “I was born in Palestine.” If I had a beating heart, it would have stopped. She sees the shock on my face. “Don’t laugh, but I was born in Bethlehem.” I didn’t think this woman could get anymore enigmatic, but it just happened.
“How? Why?”
“My parents were missionaries before I was born. They had been working in the Middle East traveling and spreading the ‘good news’ for seven years before my mom fell pregnant with me. Instead of doing the logical thing and bringing her back to the States to give birth, my dad decided they were meant to go to Bethlehem. He said God ‘told him’ that was where I was supposed to be born.”
“Forgive me, but I can’t help picking up on the disdain in your voice as you say that. You don’t share your parents’ beliefs? You’ve certainly spent a lot of time researching religion in your career.”
“Exactly! There are so many different religions and versions of mythology out there. Everyone thinks theirs is the right one. I’ve studied them all, and I concluded… that it’s all just a manmade way to control the morals of society.”
I sit back and ponder her theory for a moment. A laugh escapes me before I realize how it will seem to her. She doesn’t believe in God, or the Devil… or me.
“You find me funny? That’s a new reaction. Usually, people are either silent, or they want to pray for my soul. Laughter? Not so much!”
I compose myself. I can hardly tell her the real reason for my outburst. “I’m sorry. You just amaze me.”
“Why?”
“It’s obvious you were born and raised in the church indoctrinated by your parents from birth. You were born in Bethlehem for fuck’s sake! And yet here you are strong, opinionate, and confident in your convictions. I admire that. It’s rare.” Everything about her is rare.
“Are you trying to flatter me, Lux?” She rolls her tongue over my name for a moment. “Lux? Is that a nickname?”
“No. It’s my name. And yes, I was trying to flatter you. Is it working?”
“Trust me. I’m not the kind of girl who needs flattery. I know who I am, and I know what I want. I’m direct and to the point.”
I know I shouldn’t ask the question because I know the answer, and I don’t know if I can deny her. “And what do you want, Sirena?”
She leans in close, the scent of her perfume invading my senses, her hair brushing against my cheek as she speaks. “I want to feel your lips on every… last… inch of my body.” She slowly moves back holding my gaze. “I don’t play around, Lux. I want you, and I can tell you want me, too. Why wait?”
I’m not used to being the prey. For thousands of years, I have been the aggressor without fail. I’m momentarily stunned and out of my comfort zone. “Is this you talking or the wine?” I guess I didn’t expect her to be so blunt. Everything else about her is so demure and sultry, a temptress in every way. “I get the feeling this isn’t your normal pick-up line.”
She moves to stand obviously annoyed by my words, but I grab her hand and pull her back down beside me. “And why would you assume that you know anything about what I ‘normally’ do?”
“Let’s say I have a talent for reading people and from the way you’re reacting right now, I’m going to guess you’ve never been turned down or even questioned before when you make a move on a guy.” I can see from the look on her face that I’m right. “Tell me I’m wrong.” Her deafening silence is answer enough.
“And let me take a shot in the dark. You’ve always been the guy who takes the lead. Dominant in every way. You’re used to women falling over themselves for you, but only if they play by your rules. I would go as far as to say you’re intimidated by a woman who knows what she wants, a woman who’s not asking for forever or professing undying love for you. You can’t handle that I’m upfront and call it like it is.” Fuck, she’s hot when she’s being indignant.
“Intimidated? By a little thing like you? Not likely. I’m going to make you feel a level of ecstasy you can’t even begin to imagine. You’ll be begging me for more. I will give you pleasure like no man ever has… or ever will.”
“Then stop talking and do it.”
The challenge in her voice is more than I can take. All control is lost as I pull her toward me, my fists full of long, luscious red hair as I claim her lips. She tastes phenomenal. A mixture of wine and something I can’t quite put my finger on. I dart my tongue out requesting rather than forcing entry, and she readily responds caressing my tongue with her’s twisting and tangling in a frenzy of desire. I can’t get enough. I lift her onto my lap encouraging her to straddle me wrapping her legs around my waist. She feels fucking amazing. I’m completely lost in her and the sensation of our fierce connection. Every nerve ending in my body is awakened by this one kiss. She starts pulling at the hem of my t-shirt, her lips leaving mine only long enough to rip it over my head and drop it to the floor. As her lips find mine again, we’re interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.
She moves to pull away from me, and what I see before me is startling. I keep her in my arms. “Ignore it.” Her eyes are glowing red, the way they did that night at the gallery. I try to hide my surprise only to be met with the same look on Sirena’s face. “What’s wrong?” Can she feel it? Does she know something is happening to her?
“Your eyes…” The doorbell rings again followed by incessant knocking. She stares at me for a moment longer struggling to catch her breath, and as soon as her eyes return to normal, she pushes off my lap and straightens her top. “I better get the door. Apparently, whoever it is isn’t going anywhere. Just give me a minute to get rid of them.” As she walks to the door, she turns to me, concern etched on her face. “We need to talk.”
I grab my t-shirt off the floor when I hear voices in the hallway.
“That’s such a kind offer Daniel, but I have company.”
“Bring your friend. All the neighbors are around at our house. Just a few Thanksgiving drinks. You know Sara won’t take no for an answer.”
I make my way to the door anxious to see who is trying to ruin our evening. I’m immediately
struck with the same uneasy feeling I had earlier in the evening, and I know who I’m going to see as I round the corner—the man from the steps next door. The Guardian. I make the connection straight away. He sensed whatever just happened with her eyes when we kissed. He knew something was going on, and that’s why he’s so intent on getting her out of here… away from me.
She turns to me with an apologetic look and a sweet smile. “Do you mind if we go next door for a while? I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”
“Why don’t you go and enjoy yourself? I should be heading home anyway.”
She steps toward me, her voice low enough that only I can hear. “We have… unfinished business.”
“Maybe some other time.”
The Guardian at the door is enjoying this. “Please, you are more than welcome to come and meet the neighbors. We’d love to have you.”
Sirena grabs my arm. “It’s settled then. You can’t get away from me that easily.”
The man she called ‘Daniel’ turns to me as Sirena locks her home and holds out his hand. “How rude of me. I never introduced myself. I’m Daniel.” I reluctantly take his hand, and a searing pain grips me traveling up my arm and straight to my brain.
I struggle to maintain my composure not wanting to alert Sirena to my predicament. It takes all of my strength just to answer him. “I’m…”
He cuts me off, his voice low and menacing as he speaks. “I know who you are… Luxure Zonder.”
Sirena makes her way down the steps and places her hand on my arm breaking the agonizing pain and forcing Daniel to let go of my hand. “You ready?”
“Sure.”
She cuddles close to my side in the cold night air, and it feels so natural. The pain I was in only moments ago is all but forgotten. “I’m sorry about this, but I’m glad you didn’t leave. I really want to pick up where we left off later.”
I kiss the top of her head inhaling the gentle smell of her shampoo. “Deal.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and walk toward the pretty white celestial home next door.