by Jill Nolan
Hope and doubt cloud my mind. I try to evaluate if he's telling me the truth, but his hard, black eyes give nothing away.
“And you wouldn’t be able to come back in without another invitation?”
“Right.”
“Do I have to say something specific, like, ‘I rescind your invitation’?”
The corners of his mouth twitch. “It’s not the particular words that matter, but the meaning behind them.”
“And you don’t need any sort of spell or magic or herbs?”
“Just the words,” he says impatiently.
I could just uninvite him as soon as we step through the door. He could also be lying. Maybe I could—
“You seem to think that you have a choice. You don’t. Invite. Me. In.” He pushes his body harder into mine, further invading my space.
I force out the words he wants to hear. “Come in.” I even put on a small smile, a habit of politeness.
I feel the safety of my cabin vanish completely; I no longer have a sanctuary.
He smiles, takes a step back, and motions me inside.
I walk into my room, opening my mouth to say the magic words to get him to leave, when his hand covers my mouth. I feel him press up against my back. Shivers run down my spine as he says in my ear, “If you tell me to leave before we’re finished talking, I will change my mind about letting you live.” I feel his warm breath on my neck, and his lips that are so close.
I’m not sure if my shivers were from fear or something else, but they traveled a little too far down my body for comfort.
The fact that he seems perfectly fine with killing me if I do something wrong is terrifying, but it's also reassuring to hear him say that right now his mind is on letting me live. I mean, I thought we were already at that point, but I guess things have changed now I know who he is. Did he somehow know that I figured it out?
He releases me after I nod.
I turn to face him as I back up, putting some distance between us. The lights are off in the room, but the outside light comes through enough for me to see him fairly clearly.
I debate still telling him to leave, but if I do, I may have to go back to living in fear. I don’t want to live in fear, and anyway, I’m a little curious about what he has to say. Probably more threats.
Curiosity again.
Curiosity killed the cat.
But he’s the cat; I’m the mouse.
Maybe I’m a mouse-sized cat.
“Is this how you get all your invitations inside?” I blurt out. It sounds more like I’m teasing him rather than insulting him. Apparently, I’m feeling a little bolder. I’m also feeling a bit unsettled; he shouldn’t have this effect on me. He should have no effect on me other than fear. So why do I find myself wanting to be closer to him?
He doesn’t seem angry at my question but amused. “I have my ways.” Does that mean he’s been in other girl’s rooms, like this?
“Like compulsion?” I think of the vampires on tv that only have to look you in the eye and then they can force you to do anything.
“I don't have that ability.”
I nod, relieved. He could be lying, of course, but I hope not. I look at the creature mere feet from me. His abs are defined just like I imagined they would be, and he certainly didn’t miss leg day. His body would be damn near perfect if not for the facial ridges and wings...and those monster feet. Holy shit, those are legit monster's feet, with claws and everything.
"You shouldn't know who I am."
"I didn't know until you came here," I snap.
He smirks. "We both know that's not true."
"I only had a suspicion before… I won't tell anyone." Let's just hope I'm not threatened by hunters again...
"Is that so?" He moves toward me, faster than light, and his hand is around my throat, not tight enough to hurt but not loose enough to slip out of. "And if someone holds a knife to your throat again?" The shallow cut that was made to my throat a week ago is almost completely healed.
"I—I don't know. What should I do then?" I don't fight to get free of him. I'm afraid of him, undoubtedly, but I'm not repelled by him, by his touch. I can't figure out why. I know he’s dangerous; I’ve seen too much evidence of this fact already. But for whatever reason, he hasn’t hurt me at all. Granted, he hasn’t been gentle, and currently he’s one squeeze away from cutting off my airway, but I feel deep down that he won’t actually hurt me. That fear of him mixed with him saving me is apparently a heady combination.
"If you have to, then you tell them what you told those men. No more, no less. Do not tell them who I am."
"I won't, I promise."
He stares at me, into me, probably trying to determine if I'm telling the truth – I am. His hand releases my neck and drifts down to my chest. I've stopped breathing, wondering what he's going to do. His hand closes around my silver cross necklace. He yanks it off, tossing it to the floor. "That doesn't work. You should have already figured out that garlic doesn't work either. Why is it still all over your house?" I forgot to take that down, but he doesn't give me a chance to answer. "Get rid of the garlic and those ridiculous stakes you sharpened. You’d never be fast enough to use one on me anyway."
I can’t help glancing at the nightstand, where I’ve hidden my other stake. How did he know I sharpened them? He’s probably right about me not being fast enough. If bullets aren't fast enough to kill him, my arm speed sure isn't up to the task. Still, I don't like the thought of throwing away the stakes.
“Will there be more hunters coming?”
“Those men weren’t hunters. They may have been working with someone who was, but he wasn't with them that night. Did they mention someone else?"
"They talked about a man. Seemed like he was the one in charge, but he wasn't there."
"Did they say anything about who he might be?”
“No. I thought it might be the guy I stabbed."
"It wasn't him."
"I have no idea then."
"Have you noticed anyone strange? Someone following you or asking questions?"
"No, I don't think so. If he's still out there, will he come after me again?”
“Not if he’s smart. I’ll find him soon enough. I need you to tell me if you notice anything."
"Okay."
"I'll go now if you want...or you can ask me whatever you'd like.”
Chapter 21
I know what I should do, but I want to know more. I can always uninvite him, but I don't know if I'll get another chance to learn more about him.
I should really try to avoid any and all chances to learn more about him, as it just leads to more threatening, but I can't help myself.
"You are a vampire, right?"
“I suppose.”
“Can you glamour yourself as anything other than a bat?”
“Glamour...I guess that would be a good word for it. It has its limitations. It’s all-or-nothing. Either everyone sees a bat or everyone sees me like this. I like my prey to see what’s coming for them.” He takes a step towards me, his eyes positively predatory. "That’s how you caught me. That and the wind which covered your steps.” He takes another step towards me, like he's stalking his prey, and I take a step back.
He continues toward me until my back hits the wall. And even though I know it's the wall, I still turn my head slightly to look and to reorient myself in the room. I'm against the wall opposite the balcony door, and he is between me and both exits.
I don't need to run though; I can just make him leave.
When I look back in his eyes, I see desire, which causes my stomach and lower to tighten.
"Why haven't you killed me?" It would clearly be in his best interest.
"Are you trying to convince me I should?"
"I just don't understand."
"All you need to know, is that if you keep my secret, I'll spare your life."
"I already spilled your secret once."
"You were kidnapped, hurt, threatened. I don't blame yo
u for telling them. I should have seen them coming and stopped them before they could hurt you. I am sorry about what they did to you because of me." His fingers lightly brush the bruise still lingering around my eye. The feel of his fingertips makes my heart beat wildly in my chest.
His fingers move down, cupping my face. Before I can react, his lips come down on mine, and he eliminates the distance between our bodies.
What is he doing?
My initial shock wears off, and I try to push him away, while at the same time thinking I should just let it happen. My hands push against his chest, against smooth muscle, but like a goddamn brick wall, he doesn’t move a millimeter.
I try another knee to the balls, but that just brings his leg in between mine again. I probably should have seen that coming. I feel like I knew that would happen…is that what I wanted to happen?
He releases my lips then, moving his head a few inches from mine, staring into my eyes. I stop fighting him, waiting to see what he's going to do next. The words to make him leave sitting on my tongue.
The way he's looking at me, full of need, for me, sends disturbing currents all the way to my core. Mischief dances in his eyes, too. In those black eyes that seem to not be able to get enough of me.
His lips crash down on mine again, and maybe I meet him halfway. All I know is I’m pulling him into me now. One of his hands releases my face, and I feel it wrap around my waist, pulling my body closer to him.
There’s no space between our bodies, and I can feel him hard against my hip, which is terrifying and hot at the same time.
Unwelcome thoughts drift into my head.
I turn my head away, to get some air, to think this through.
He dips his head to my neck. I have a moment of sheer terror, thinking he's going to bite me. What if he can't control himself?
Instead I feel a kiss, and then another, and then many more as he uses his tongue and lips along my neck, collarbone, chest. I relax into him, stifling a moan at how good it feels.
My breathing heavy, I try to think through what’s happening. I shouldn’t be enjoying these kisses.
They become rougher as he works his way back up, making them even more amazing. I feel his tongue and teeth with each kiss, along with the lingering fear that he will sink his teeth into me at any moment. I moan, arching my back.
I should uninvite him. I should tell him to leave.
Why does his mouth feel so good on my neck? How am I so wet right now?
He's worked his way to my ear, nibbling on the lobe. God, it feels so good.
Why have I stopped fighting him?
He makes his way back to my lips, kissing me harshly. I push on him and try to squirm out of his grasp, but I'm so sensitive in so many places that every movement is like foreplay.
I can feel my resolve failing.
I shouldn’t do this. This is so wrong...
But I don’t fight him as I feel his tongue slide against mine. He tastes surprisingly good. His hands pull my hips toward his, even more than before, but there's no way we can get close enough...not with clothes in between our bodies.
This can’t happen.
I need to stop this.
The kiss turns rougher. He’s an amazing kisser, with just the right amount of tongue and ferocity. Why does he have to be such a good kisser?
This is wrong.
This is so fucking wrong.
But it feels so good. I can’t get enough of him.
I slide my hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him into me as far as he’ll go. His hands move over my ass and squeeze. To my surprise, he goes even further, following all the way down until he’s reaching between my legs.
I moan into his mouth as we kiss. This fuels him further. He picks me up like I’m nothing. I barely get my legs around him when he slams my back into the wall. His erection is directly between my legs, and he uses it to rub against me in the most tantalizing way. I moan again, feeling like I'm already seconds from coming.
I’m terrified of what this is leading up to, but with how sensational everything feels, I can’t find the strength to put an end to it.
I’ve never been so ready in my life. Never wanted someone so much.
His hands work magic exploring my body. He removes my shirt, stripping away the only thing between our chests, before continuing in his exploration. I do what he did to me, kissing down his neck to his shoulder, where I bite him lightly. He grunts, pulling my chin up to ravish my lips again.
He carries me over to the bed and throws me down.
As I look at him, his wings spread out as far as they’ll go, all twelve feet.
Monster.
And yet, he doesn’t feel like a monster in this moment; even his monstrous form looks vaguely beautiful.
What is wrong with me?
I stare at him in a mixture of awe and fear and excitement.
He kills people.
He crawls over me, lowering himself on me. I feel the erotic pressure of his weight on top of me. I wrap my legs around him, excited nerves knotting up my insides.
He kisses me, and I revel in the way our bodies feel against each other. Everything he does feels too good. I can’t force myself to care about anything else.
His fingers begin exploring the area between my legs but stay teasingly over my shorts. I moan and rock my hips.
I want his hand inside, inside, inside. I want him inside of me. God, I want all of him inside of me.
Finally, he moves his hand down into my panties, which is what I've been begging for in my head. His fingers move down, down, ever so slowly. The anticipation of how his fingers will feel down there, with no barriers in between, is torturous.
Finally, finally, he slides two fingers into me and back out a few times and then he's rubbing my most sensitive place. My jumbled, incoherent thoughts slip away as I start to lose myself in pleasure, moving my hips against his hand.
I feel down his abs and keep going, wanting to touch him more, explore him. I rub him over his shorts, getting even more turned on with how hard he is. I move my hand back to his muscular arm, feeling from his shoulders to his back. Until I hit something protruding. I open my eyes.
His wings are still spread out over us.
Monster.
I break the kiss to look at them. Without missing a beat, he moves to kissing my neck.
I feel the pleasure that his skilled fingers continue to bring even as my eyes see the unnatural bat wings less than a foot from my face.
I feel an orgasm building up. I close my eyes and clutch onto Mason as the intensity builds. My moaning grows louder as I arch my back. I come, loudly, and collapse into the bed.
He takes my mouth again, as if trying to taste my release, share in the pleasure. I kiss back, though not as feverishly as a minute before. I feel depleted but blissful.
Then I start to come back down to earth.
Or should I say up to earth? As heavenly as that feeling was, it couldn’t have come from anywhere but hell.
I turn my head from his mouth. He goes back to kissing my neck, nibbling on my ear.
But my head has cleared now. Without lust to distract and confuse me, I’m left with guilt, shame, and disgust.
I stare at those unnatural wings.
I start to panic.
What have I done?
“Get out.”
His body stiffens. He crawls backward off the bed. I sit up and grab the sheets to cover myself, while wrapping my arms around my knees. He walks backward, never taking his eyes off me, until he’s outside.
The look he gives me as he stands on my balcony promises that this isn’t over. He pushes off the balcony, propelling himself into the sky and disappearing just as quickly.
I curl up on the bed, a whirlwind of contradicting thoughts going ‘round and ‘round my head.
Chapter 22
Allison and I spent most of the day Saturday hanging out, and then Hanna and Ben came over at night for a game night. It was fun, but
I'd wanted to go out that night. I wanted to go to the bars. I wanted to run into Mason. I was just curious how he'd act. That's it.
Once they left and Allison went to hang out with Tom, I for whatever reason decided I must have a fire. There's really no reason not to go outside at night anymore, and I’ve been wanting a bonfire. So here I sit, in front of my fire, drinking a few Mike's, and all I can think about is him.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to be outside just to see if he'd show up. Then again, I've been lying to myself a lot today.
Not that I want him to come. I mean, sure, I'd love to find out more about this new, dark, supernatural world. He didn't exactly let me get a lot of questions out last night. But I can't let what happened the other night, happen again. Even if I've been fantasizing about it…especially about what could have happened if I didn't kick him out.
The memories of last night haunt me, in more ways than one. One minute, I feel guilty and ashamed of myself; the next minute, I'm all turned on and ready to go. But then the guilt and shame come back. It's a vicious cycle. But now that I'm alone under the cover of night with a few drinks in me, I just want it to happen again.
I was so close to sleeping with him. At first, I told myself I would never have let it get that far. But if he would have tried to have sex before I came, I can’t say for certain that I would have objected. I needed release more than I needed air.
It's surreal to think that I hooked up with a vampire with bat wings. I’ve literally seen him kill nine people. And that’s just in the three-week timespan that I’ve known about him. And there’s that missing girl, who he probably killed. And that's just from this town over the last month or so. Who knows how long he's been killing?
Speaking of which, how old is he? He could be my grandpa’s age or older. Why didn’t I think to ask about that?
I don't know what it is that attracts me to him, but I want him more than I've ever wanted anyone else. He does have the body type that I prefer: fairly tall but broad and muscular and a good head of hair.
I know some of it has to do with the danger aspect. He's killed all these people, yet he's kind of protecting me. Sure, he's threatened me a few times, but he hasn't actually hurt me. He's only saved me. Kind of. I mean, it's kind of his fault I was in that situation in the first place.