The Heart's Ashes
Page 35
“David only ever cut my skin.”
“Would you rather I cut through the scar—or make a new one?”
The idea of another scar on my body made me cringe.
But if he recut one already owned, which one would it be? The one that was made out of love—the sacred discolouring of skin that belonged to David’s lips—or the painful memory etched in pink on my wrist, neck, rib and upper thigh from the tortures of vengeance?
Without a second more thought, I untucked my top from my jeans and revealed the milky skin on the curve of my waist. “Here.”
“I get my own special spot, huh?”
“Yes, and you better hurry before I change my mind.” I could feel it slipping—the need, the craving, the want for his blood—the desire to give him mine. It was like that scarf you wanted to buy on impulse, but never regretted leaving on the sale rack.
My eyelids fluttered closed and I held onto the resolve to satiate my addiction. “Eric!” I said as his lips touched my skin.
“What?”
“Just—just wai—”
“You want one, Ar?” Mike burst in my room, holding up a Mars bar, and stopped dead when I whipped my top down, searching the room for the evaporating vampire. What—?” He stepped in fully. “What’re you doing?”
“Uh.” My cheeks flushed hot. I folded forward slightly, catching my breath. “Just checking a mole.”
“A mole? Ara, you don’t have any moles.”
“I know.” I smiled. “I was just making sure.”
Rolling his head into his sigh, he took a step forward and kept his eyes down as he said, “Baby, I know he was here. I’m not stupid.”
“What do you want me to say, Mike?” I cast my arms outward in a defensive gesture.
After careful consideration, he thrust the Mars at me; I barely caught it. “Just—don’t let him bite you, okay?”
“He won’t.”
“Bull shit, Ara—he’s a vampire.”
“Okay. I won’t let him bite me.” Not that I can do much if he decides to.
“Promise.” He held out his pinkie-finger.
I linked mine over his and smiled. “Promise.”
“Okay.”
Before he walked away, my hand shot and held his sleeve. “Hey, Mike?”
“Yeah?” When I refused to speak, leaving my thoughts on the silence between us, hoping he’d read my mind in the human kind of way he used to, he frowned. “Ar, what is it?”
I couldn’t say it; I don’t want to follow my desires and give myself to a vampire who cares nothing for me. I don’t want Eric to be my first—despite how badly I want his blood.
Mike looked over at my open window, his arms sitting loosely out from his body, his shoulders broad and strong, then nodded and reached for me, tucking me into his chest. I could feel the ripples of his muscled stomach through his black, long sleeve sweater; it fit to his body tightly, hugging the curves of his chest like a Batman suit.
After a deep, hot breath that touched my hair, he looked down at me. “I love you, baby. I’m here for you, okay? I’ll stay with you all night if you want me to.”
I hugged closer and nodded against him.
Chapter 6
Mike sat beside me at the piano, while the bright summer filtering through the window made our skin glow. He looked beautiful in this light; warm and sunny. It was hard to sit beside him, trying not to think of how we fell asleep on my bed the other night, while he guarded me from satiating my addictive desires.
Everything felt like it was back to where it was before we tried to get married. Even the humoured glint in his eye—the way he looked at me like he had something funny to say—had returned. He seemed lighter, in a figurative sense.
And it made my resolve to be alone slip a little further from the edge of reason; I didn’t know how much longer I could lie to myself about how I felt, or how long it would be before I did something stupid—driven by human impulses based on lust and longing. I knew it’d be better to get that kind of thing out of the way with Eric, rather than Mike. I could let Eric go. He meant nothing to me, really, but if I slept with Mike, I might not be able to release him from my heart completely—not even if David one day returned.
While my thoughts wandered outside, beyond the glass window in front of me, Mike reached across and ran a gentle finger over my neck. “Does it still hurt?”
I placed my hand on his, over the scar. “It burns when I’m in the sun, but mostly, I forget it’s there.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could have—”
“Don’t, Mike. It’s over. I don’t like to think about it.”
He dropped his hand, his head followed. “When you shared blood with David, did his bite hurt you the way the attacker’s did?”
“No,” I said, my eyes staying focused as I watched the memory. “David never used his fangs, so what he did was nice, intimate.”
“How can it be intimate?” Mike leaned out a little. “It’s disgusting.”
“So are eggs, but we eat those.” I smiled, snapping out of my gloom.
“Eggs weren’t once human.”
“Yeah, but, in the moment, you really don’t see it that way. You should try it sometime.”
He paused for a second, a mischievous grin lighting the corners of his eyes before showing in his lips. He made a low, fake growl, and launched at me, sinking his teeth softly into my neck; it tingled all down my body and up my spine.
“Help. Help, a vampire.” I giggled, gripping his back with my nails.
“Mm, delicious.” He sounded like Count Dracula, laughing as he spoke, then kissed my neck and wiped it with his hand. “You’re right—that is good.”
“Told you.” I looked at his neck, becoming Mrs. Dracula as I rose from the seat. “Now, I vunt to suck your blurd.”
“Show mercy on me, succubus.” He wrapped my hips with his big, strong hands, and held me on the stool in front of him, my waist to his chest. I bent down and rolled my tongue across his flesh, wishing I was a vampire—wishing I had the ability to feel his pulse through my teeth. “Mm, salty,” I said, kissing his neck gently.
He groaned, tightening his grip. “That feels too good.”
I kissed his neck more firmly, my lips delving into the sensation of his silky, warm flesh—my Mike, my strong, loving Mike. It felt so good to touch him this way again—so good, because he wanted me to do it, too.
“Would you rather I cut through the scar—or make a new one?”
The idea of another scar on my body made me cringe.
But if he recut one already owned, which one would it be? The one that was made out of love—the sacred discolouring of skin that belonged to David’s lips—or the painful memory etched in pink on my wrist, neck, rib and upper thigh from the tortures of vengeance?
Without a second more thought, I untucked my top from my jeans and revealed the milky skin on the curve of my waist. “Here.”
“I get my own special spot, huh?”
“Yes, and you better hurry before I change my mind.” I could feel it slipping—the need, the craving, the want for his blood—the desire to give him mine. It was like that scarf you wanted to buy on impulse, but never regretted leaving on the sale rack.
My eyelids fluttered closed and I held onto the resolve to satiate my addiction. “Eric!” I said as his lips touched my skin.
“What?”
“Just—just wai—”
“You want one, Ar?” Mike burst in my room, holding up a Mars bar, and stopped dead when I whipped my top down, searching the room for the evaporating vampire. What—?” He stepped in fully. “What’re you doing?”
“Uh.” My cheeks flushed hot. I folded forward slightly, catching my breath. “Just checking a mole.”
“A mole? Ara, you don’t have any moles.”
“I know.” I smiled. “I was just making sure.”
Rolling his head into his sigh, he took a step forward and kept his eyes down as he said, “Baby, I know he was here. I’m not stupid.”
“What do you want me to say, Mike?” I cast my arms outward in a defensive gesture.
After careful consideration, he thrust the Mars at me; I barely caught it. “Just—don’t let him bite you, okay?”
“He won’t.”
“Bull shit, Ara—he’s a vampire.”
“Okay. I won’t let him bite me.” Not that I can do much if he decides to.
“Promise.” He held out his pinkie-finger.
I linked mine over his and smiled. “Promise.”
“Okay.”
Before he walked away, my hand shot and held his sleeve. “Hey, Mike?”
“Yeah?” When I refused to speak, leaving my thoughts on the silence between us, hoping he’d read my mind in the human kind of way he used to, he frowned. “Ar, what is it?”
I couldn’t say it; I don’t want to follow my desires and give myself to a vampire who cares nothing for me. I don’t want Eric to be my first—despite how badly I want his blood.
Mike looked over at my open window, his arms sitting loosely out from his body, his shoulders broad and strong, then nodded and reached for me, tucking me into his chest. I could feel the ripples of his muscled stomach through his black, long sleeve sweater; it fit to his body tightly, hugging the curves of his chest like a Batman suit.
After a deep, hot breath that touched my hair, he looked down at me. “I love you, baby. I’m here for you, okay? I’ll stay with you all night if you want me to.”
I hugged closer and nodded against him.
Chapter 6
Mike sat beside me at the piano, while the bright summer filtering through the window made our skin glow. He looked beautiful in this light; warm and sunny. It was hard to sit beside him, trying not to think of how we fell asleep on my bed the other night, while he guarded me from satiating my addictive desires.
Everything felt like it was back to where it was before we tried to get married. Even the humoured glint in his eye—the way he looked at me like he had something funny to say—had returned. He seemed lighter, in a figurative sense.
And it made my resolve to be alone slip a little further from the edge of reason; I didn’t know how much longer I could lie to myself about how I felt, or how long it would be before I did something stupid—driven by human impulses based on lust and longing. I knew it’d be better to get that kind of thing out of the way with Eric, rather than Mike. I could let Eric go. He meant nothing to me, really, but if I slept with Mike, I might not be able to release him from my heart completely—not even if David one day returned.
While my thoughts wandered outside, beyond the glass window in front of me, Mike reached across and ran a gentle finger over my neck. “Does it still hurt?”
I placed my hand on his, over the scar. “It burns when I’m in the sun, but mostly, I forget it’s there.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could have—”
“Don’t, Mike. It’s over. I don’t like to think about it.”
He dropped his hand, his head followed. “When you shared blood with David, did his bite hurt you the way the attacker’s did?”
“No,” I said, my eyes staying focused as I watched the memory. “David never used his fangs, so what he did was nice, intimate.”
“How can it be intimate?” Mike leaned out a little. “It’s disgusting.”
“So are eggs, but we eat those.” I smiled, snapping out of my gloom.
“Eggs weren’t once human.”
“Yeah, but, in the moment, you really don’t see it that way. You should try it sometime.”
He paused for a second, a mischievous grin lighting the corners of his eyes before showing in his lips. He made a low, fake growl, and launched at me, sinking his teeth softly into my neck; it tingled all down my body and up my spine.
“Help. Help, a vampire.” I giggled, gripping his back with my nails.
“Mm, delicious.” He sounded like Count Dracula, laughing as he spoke, then kissed my neck and wiped it with his hand. “You’re right—that is good.”
“Told you.” I looked at his neck, becoming Mrs. Dracula as I rose from the seat. “Now, I vunt to suck your blurd.”
“Show mercy on me, succubus.” He wrapped my hips with his big, strong hands, and held me on the stool in front of him, my waist to his chest. I bent down and rolled my tongue across his flesh, wishing I was a vampire—wishing I had the ability to feel his pulse through my teeth. “Mm, salty,” I said, kissing his neck gently.
He groaned, tightening his grip. “That feels too good.”
I kissed his neck more firmly, my lips delving into the sensation of his silky, warm flesh—my Mike, my strong, loving Mike. It felt so good to touch him this way again—so good, because he wanted me to do it, too.
