Original Sin

by Samantha Towle

  I bind my hands in front of me. “Seriously Zeff, I really have no coordination. I’m not kidding. I can’t dance or anything. Before the change, it took a lot just to keep one foot in front of the other. I’ll make a complete arse out of myself.”

  “You can’t dance?” he asks, brow furrowed.

  “Nope,” I shake my head.

  “We’ll have to change that too.” The look in his eyes is as intense as his voice. It quickly clears, and his tone is back to that easy way of his. “There’s only us here, so if you make an ass of yourself it won’t matter.” He beckons me to go to him. His eyes on me are all soft and inviting. And they strip away of all my insecurities.

  Lifting a foot, I find myself moving toward him, without another consideration. Almost like there’s a magnet pulling me in his direction. He seems to have the ability to be able to calm me with a click of his finger, a softly spoken word, or a look. At times when no one else would be able to.

  “Take your sneakers and socks off,” he says.

  “Sneakers?” I wrinkle my nose, looking up at him. “Don’t you main trainers?”

  “Same thing.”

  “Sneakers is a very American thing to say,” I muse, sliding the rucksack off my back, I put it to the grassy floor. I sit down beside it and start to unlace my trainers. Come to think of it, he calls coffee – Joe. And his mobile phone – a cell phone.

  “Is that where you’re from originally, America?” I pause untying, to look up at him. His accent is so indistinct it’s hard to tell just where it is he’s from.

  He shakes his head. “I was born in Spain. I just lived in the US for a while; I picked up some bad habits.” He grins.

  So he’s Spanish. I guess that explains the skin tone and black hair. And it’s also quite sexy.

  Crap.

  I pull my trainers and socks off, and get to my feet.

  Positioning himself in front of me, he says, “Just watch me first, then we’ll go together. And don’t worry,” he adds at my worried expression. “I’ll just show you the basics for now. You’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” I murmur.

  And then I watch him as he begins to demonstrate the basics of Tai Chi.

  His movements are so ridiculously graceful for his size. I’m in absolute awe. And there is absolutely no way I’m going to be able to do this as well as he does.

  “Did you get that?” he asks, when he’s finished.

  “Kinda.” I grimace.

  “Just follow my lead.”

  He starts up again and I try to follow his lead, really I do, but my movements just aren’t good. I’m not graceful. I’m clumsy and awkward. And thank God there are just the two of us here and no one else can see, because they would be laughing their ass off at me right now.

  Zeff lets out a little laugh, and shaking his head stops what he’s doing and moves to stand behind me. My head follows him round.

  “Just look straight ahead and close your eyes,” he says with a gentle nod of his head.

  Uneasy, I do as he asks.

  He moves closer, leaving all but a sliver of air between us. He reaches down and takes hold of my hands, his palms flat against the tops of mine, resting his huge arms along mine. My skin vibrates and thrums from the electricity streaming out of him and straight into me. I don’t like the sensation.

  Okay, actually I do, it’s not as shocking as those first few times, it’s almost soothing, but I don’t want to like it, so my whole body stiffens in line with my mind. I flick my eyes open.

  “It’s okay, Bunny,” he hushes, feeling my tension. “Just relax and I’ll lead you.”

  His voice carries like a whisper in the wind blowing down my neck. It’s hard to relax when he’s touching me like this. It feels all types of wrong, and plenty kinds of right.

  “Relax,” he whispers.

  And then instead of fighting it, I just simply decide to let go.

  I feel like I’m dancing. Like I’ve floated up into the clouds and I’m dancing on air. Zeff is barely touching me, but keeping me directed. Almost like he’s in my head, whispering the words, guiding the way.

  Right now I feel invincible. Like I could do anything. Fight off every single Vârcolac and vampire in the world out to do me harm, and obliterate them into extinction. Well, okay, maybe not obliterate, but maybe somewhere close.

  Zeff slowly moves around so he’s standing in front of me, his hand gently brushing across my lower back, coming round to my waist.

  I open my eyes. He’s staring down at me, his eyes opaque, impenetrable, his hand still resting on my waist.

  I smile, looking up at him, heat rising in my body. A wrong kind of heat.

  My thoughts suddenly jump to Nathan and my smile falters. I step back. His hand slips from my waist to drop to his side.

  “We should start with the fighting now,” Zeff says.

  His voice sounds deeper than normal.

  “Fighting. Yeah that’ll be good,” I say, awkward.

  I turn away, trying to gain some balance, clear my head and bring my body temperature back to normal.

  I do not fancy Zeff. I don’t. It’s just because I haven’t been near a man in so long that I feel this way.

  That is all it is. And nothing more.

  Chapter 9: Awakenings

  “Okay,” says Zeff, standing before me. “Let’s try out some of those moves collectively.”

  “Okay.”

  I flex my arms and legs out readying myself.

  “Right, I’m going to try and take you out from the front. Vamp’s and Vârcolac’s are not afraid of frontal confrontation, Bunny. They’re not interested in sneaking up from behind, they like to see the fear in their victims faces.”

  “Ack!” I grimace, containing a shudder. He gives me a firm, serious look. “Okay, I got it. Front attack, see fear.”

  Zeff gives me the nod and then without hesitation he grabs for my throat with his right hand.

  As he said they would earlier in training, my hands instinctively go up when he grabs my throat. My arms either side of his, I overlap them, pulling them straight in, I yank his arm downwards and off my throat.

  He moves in quick, trying to grab me again and without thinking, instincts takes over, I knee him in the groin, grab him, flip him over and drop him down onto the mat, landing him hard on his back.

  He grunts a pained kind of sound, holding his groin, rolling away from me.

  “Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” I say, instantly coming to my senses. I’m down and by his side in a second.

  Shit, I’ve broken him!

  “Are you okay, Zeff? Please tell me you’re okay?!”

  He doesn’t answer, well if he does he’s making no sense, all I’m getting is sharp intakes of breath between groans of pain.

  Concern takes over and I put my hand on his arm and gently roll him onto his back. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut, his face red, knees bent up at his holds on to his manhood.

  He actually looks kind of funny, but now’s probably not the right time to laugh.

  “Are you okay?” I ask softly, in a less panicked voice.

  He lets out the breath he was holding in. “Yeah.”

  His voice is strained and a bit croaky.

  “I’m so sorry,” I emphasise. “I guess I just got a bit carried away.”

  He opens his eyes and looks at up me.

  I smile, apologetically. “Have I broken you permanently?” I nod downwards.

  “No. More like temporarily disabled.” He gives a strangled grin.

  I snort out a laugh, covering my mouth with my hand, I mutter, “Sorry.”

  He lets out a laugh. “Don’t be. I’m actually kind of impressed. I mean, hellfire Bunny, you’ve got some strength in that tiny body of yours. Once I’ve got you trained up there’ll be no stopping you.”

  I sit up on my haunches, feeling more than a little proud of myself. “You really think so?”

  “Sure I do. I know I’m just a regular guy, but you took
me down in seconds without even blinking. You’ve got a real fighter's instinct.”

  I don’t know how to feel about having a fighter’s instinct; something I never imagined anyone would ever say about me, but then I guess whether I like it or not, I need to have it.

  “That’s what I did to the vampire,” I say, chewing on my thumb nail. “You know, when he had me pinned to the floor. I punched him in the nuts. It didn’t last long though, and I managed to get away for a short while, but then he was back on me and then I couldn’t get away. It obviously wasn’t as effective on him as it is on you.”

  I scrunch my face up, realising my words.

  He glances down at his hands, still on his groin, and moves them away. “No. But it was a smart thing to do, it gave you the chance to make that break to run. You hit a guy where it hurts, whether he’s supernatural or not, and it will take him down, no doubt. Anything is worth a try to save your life. A swift punch to the throat, eye gouging, whatever it takes to save your life and keep you safe, Bunny.” Giving me a small smile, he puts his hands to the floor and starts to sit himself up, but pauses, obviously still in a little pain, he puts a hand to his groin again, adjusting himself. I look away.

  Biting my lip, I say again, “I am really sorry for hurting you, in quite possibly the worst way to hurt a guy.”

  He puts his hand on my arm. “Don’t worry, really,” he stresses, eyes dark yet soft on me, like warm melted chocolate. “I’ll be fine.”

  Then leaning back away, he reaches over and grabs his bottle of water off the floor beside the mat. And I’m left with a tiny shock tremoring through my arm, making its way through the rest of my body.

  The shocks I get from Zeff have lessened over the last few hours while we’ve been training, which we’ve been at for hours; actually, looking around, I notice for the first time just how dark it’s gotten, and also that the flood lights at the back of the house have come on, illuminating the space.

  I guess I was enjoying myself so much I didn’t notice, and because I can see as well in the dark as I can in daylight my eyesight automatically adjusted.

  The fighting has been way more enjoyable than the Tai Chi. Well up until the point I nearly broke his manhood that is. And don’t get me wrong the Tai Chi was good, but it got me a bit too close to him. Way closer than I need to be.

  I’ve been lonely for a long time now and being close to someone; a man, raises certain feelings in me.

  I’m still a woman after all. And Zeff is ridiculously good-looking. I’m not made of wood.

  “You want some?” he offers his water to me.

  I shake my head. He screws the cap back on and sets the bottle down on the mat beside him.

  “So, I think we should call it a day before you kill me, and my sense of masculinity, totally,” he jokes, winking.

  I nod, feeling a little disappointed the training is over with, I was really just getting into the swing of it, but I guess it is understandable since I just practically garrotted his nuts.

  “We can carry on with the training tomorrow night if you want?” Zeff adds, slowly getting to his feet, almost as though reading my thoughts, and I wonder for a moment if they were clear to read on my face.

  “I’d like that,” I say, nodding. I shuffle back off the mat and start to roll it up. “And I promise not to knee you in the nuts the next time.”

  “That’d be good.” Pause. “So I was just going to make some dinner if you want to stay and have some?” I glance up at him through my lashes. “I’m a pretty decent cook, or so I’ve been told. You can judge for yourself though.”

  Looking back down, I finish off rolling up the mat. I can feel my heart has started to beat just that little bit harder in my chest.

  “Erm, no, but thanks.”

  Training with Zeff is one thing, but we’ve already had dinner together once when we went for pizza, twice would just be like a date. Especially if he cooks for me. Zeff might think an acceptance of dinner as I’m okaying it as a date, or something. I can’t confuse things; I need to keep this neutral.

  “I need to get back to my flat. I’ve got stuff I need to do.”

  Okay, I know it’s weak, but it’s the best I could come up with.

  “Stuff,” he echoes. “So you need to get back to your apartment to do stuff.” He raises his dark brows. “What stuff?”

  I get to my feet tucking the mat under my arm. “Stuff. You know. Woman’s stuff.” That’ll shut him up. Men never like to talk about woman’s things.

  “Hmm,” he murmurs. “So you need to rush back to your empty apartment so you can get on with woman’s stuff.” He air quotes. “And what are you going to do when you’ve finished doing your woman’s stuff?” Again with the air quotes.

  What’s up with that?

  I look from his hands to his lightened face. “Watch TV, go to bed.” I shrug.

  “Why don’t you want to stay for dinner, Bunny?” he queries, his voice suddenly sounding deeper, more intense.

  I look at him, then down at my feet, scuffing the grass with my toe. “It just feels odd … having dinner with you – twice now, and you cooking for me … well it kind of feels like it’d be a … ”

  “A… ?” he pushes.

  “Date.” I look up at him to catch his reaction. But I didn’t need to look, hearing his laugh was loud and clear enough as to his thoughts on my response.

  It does nothing for my self-confidence.

  I’m kind of pissed off and severely insulted he thinks the thought of dating me is that funny. My whole face is burning with embarrassment. It’s a good job I already crippled him before, or I might have been tempted to kick him there again.

  “Yeah 'cause I let all my dates kick my ass – well nuts,” he corrects, “before we have dinner!”

  He’s still shaking with laughter. I wrap my free arm over my other, getting the urge to walk off.

  “Look, I’m not trying to get into your pants, Bunny. I just thought it’d be nice, two friends having dinner together. I know you don’t like having them so much, but for now you’re stuck with me as one.” He winks. “And trust me, even if I wanted to get into your pants, tonight really wouldn’t be working so well for me. Your swift knee saw to that one.” He nods down at his groin.

  I feel my cheeks heat.

  “And you’re not telling me you haven’t ever had dinner with a friend before?” he continues.

  “Of course I have.” I flicker a look his way.

  “Well there you go then. And I’ll even let you load the dishwasher with all the dirty pots if it makes you feel better, you know, make it even less date-like,” he adds, a smile ghosting across his face.

  I suppress a rising smile. Sometimes I can’t not smile at him. And I guess what he’s saying does kind of make sense. I’m just over-thinking things.

  “Okay, I’ll stay for dinner,” I say slowly, “but on one condition.”

  He folds his arms across his chest, intrigue capturing his expression. “Shoot.”

  “You stop calling me Bunny.”

  Releasing a hand, he steeples his fingers over his mouth. “Ahh, now come on that’s not playing fair.”

  I put my hands on my hips, stifling a laugh. “Take it or leave it.”

  “Why do you hate it so much? Because personally I think it’s cute.”

  I give him a look. “Um, where do I start … because you are totally taking the piss every time you call me it and because it makes me sound like a pet, or worse, like one of Hugh Hefner's Playboy bunnies or something equally as tacky.” He raises his eyebrows at that one. “And before you say it ,don’t.” I point a warning finger at him

  “What?!” He raises his palms, feigning that innocence he’s so good at. “Okay, okay,” he concedes. “How about I don’t call you Bunny for the rest of the evening.”

  “Two days.”

  “One.”

  “Two. Or nothing. Take it or leave it.” I give him a firm look, letting him know I mean business and that there�
�ll be no felxibility.

  “Jeez, you drive a hard bargain. Fine, two days,” he huffs.

  I hold my hand out to shake. He begrudgingly takes it and gives my hand a quick shake, then taking the mat off me, he strides toward the lodge.

  Smiling, picking his water bottle up off the floor, I follow behind.

  He waits at the back door, holding it open for me as I ascend the porch steps. “Bunny,” he drawls, “you know when I said I’d let you load the dishwasher … well actually, the clean ones need taking out first.”

  He makes a cheeky face at me as I continue on up the steps.

  “Bunny is off the menu for two whole days remember.” I give him my best stern look.

  “Ah, right yeah, sorry.” He nods solemnly, but I can see the glint in his lovely dark eyes. He knows exactly what he’s doing. But I kind of have to like him for it too. He’s just a bucket load of mischief and more.

  “And of course I’ll empty the dishwasher, it’s the least I can do if you’re making dinner.”

  “Atta girl!”

  He playfully cuffs my arm with his fist as I pass by into the kitchen.

  And it definitely doesn’t feel like a date now. That couldn’t be more of a ‘one of the guys’ thing to do if he tried.

  Pausing, I stop to look at him as he overtakes me, heading straight for the refrigerator, it finally dawning on me.

  I’ve finally figured out what it is I like about Zeff.