by Zoey Derrick
It's.... What is that?
"Ahh!" it comes again.
I jump to my feet and turn around. My eyes are adjusting to the light. It's not bright, but I can see now that it is coming from the kitchen, but at a very strange angle.
My hand flies to my mouth. "Holy shit," I mumble.
I pull my hand away and take a deep breath.
It’s Mikah. He's on his knees on the kitchen floor. But that’s not what has my attention. Spread out in full, awesome splendor are a pair of brilliantly white wings.
FORTY-FOUR
I walk quietly toward him. I can’t tell if he’s awake or sleeping. He's not looking at me, but down toward the floor. As I get closer I see his wings flare and twitch slightly.
When I’m about five steps away from him, I shed my shirt so that I'm down to my bra and lacy boy shorts. I don’t want to destroy his shirt.
I concentrate extra hard and, after a beat, I feel them pushing out, spreading outward. The sensation is strange, almost like arms emerging from my body. I smile at the fact that I was able to bring them out on my own.
Once I feel as though they are fully extended, I open my eyes and peer over my shoulder. They are as brilliant as they were this morning, but bigger, and I gasp as I watch them shimmer in the faint light of the kitchen.
I test the muscles in my back, flexing them. My wings move slightly and a thrill of excitement washes over me.
I turn back toward Mikah. He hasn't moved, but his breathing has grown strained, ragged like in the dream.
I take the five small steps I need to reach him and stop.
I reach down and gently stroke the stubble along his jaw. He leans into my touch. I lower myself to my knees; they slide along his as they come to rest on the floor.
"Keep your eyes closed," I whisper.
He nuzzles into my touch a shade more, and with my other hand, eager to see if the sensation is the same, I reach for his wing. When I make contact, his mouth goes slack, his breathing stops momentarily, and the feathers of his wings flare. He moans: a warm, sensual sound.
I pull my hand back and cup the other side of his face. He does the same with my face.
"Kiss me," I breathe, and he rises up, bringing me with him.
I'm looking up at him, and slowly, even more slowly than in the dream, he lowers his kiss to mine. I stretch, hoping to meet his mouth faster, and he smiles.
The next thing I know, his lips are on mine, soft and warm, hot and needy. The moment we make contact, satisfaction and desire sweep through me. I can feel his need in the touch of his lips, in the trembling of his fingers against my face, a need that matches my own.
His tongue lightly teases my lips. I part them. In an instant, his tongue is on mine, teasing and tasting.
My hands slide along his neck, down his sternum, and then follow his ribs. I slip my arms around him, bringing him closer and tighter against me. His chest touches mine. My belly presses into his taut stomach and his hands trail along my neck, shoulders and arms.
I shiver, causing all my nerve endings to come alive.
Sliding my hands up his back, I find the tips of the feathers on the bottom of his wings and I lightly stroke them. His erection comes to life against my belly. I moan into his mouth as my eyes roll back into my head.
I open my eyes again and he is looking at me. His bright blue eyes are warm, filed with need and with something else, that emotion that I can't quite name.
Then, confusion.
He pulls back, trying to gain his bearings, unsure of where he is. The vision in front of him hits him. I can tell the moment that he realizes that my wings are spread wide. He flexes his shoulders, and his eyes grow wider still as he understands that his wings are open and visible, too.
"How..."
"The dream. We've..." I take a deep breath, trying hard to calm my breathing. "We've been sharing the same dreams."
He sits back on his feet, but he doesn't release the grip he now has on my hands.
"Mikah, I want this. I want you,” I say breathlessly.
He doesn't need any more encouragement from me. He stands, steadying himself as he realizes the full weight of his upper body with his wings fully emerged. He pulls me up by my hands and I stand with him. He's quick to cup my face, and once again his lips are on mine.
His kiss is urgent and my body responds, desire pooling stronger deep inside of me. I put everything I have into our kiss, pulling him tighter and closer against me, and he does the same. I feel his fingers weave into my hair as he gently urges me to take a step back. I do, and he nudges again. And again. I refuse to open my eyes as he continues to urge me backwards; I'm completely lost to his kiss, his lips, his hands in my hair.
Then I feel the bed against my knees and I stop. His kisses wander from my mouth to my jaw, behind my ear, down my neck, along my shoulder, his lips soft against my skin, leaving a trail of blazing hot nerves in their wake.
His hands glide down my body along the outside swell of my breasts, down my ribs. Feather light, his fingers trail the sweet curves of my bump, and I'm lost to the purest pleasure I've ever felt in my life.
His kisses continue, and the need to have him grows hotter, stronger. My legs begin to tremble, but still he runs his hands up my back toward my wings, and I shiver in anticipation of his touch along my feathers. But he stops when he reaches the clasp of my bra.
He pauses, waiting for permission.
"Yes," I breathe.
His breathing spikes. He shakes slightly, as though nervous, but he hasn't stopped his kisses along the swell of my breasts. I raise my hand to his hair and run my fingers through its soft texture. It tickles against my palm.
With my fingers I urge him to pull back slightly. He does so and looks at me. His eyes are hooded with desire and something deeper, some stronger emotion trying desperately to spill through.
"I. Want. You." I emphasize each word. "I'm ready."
"I...I don't know if I am," he whispers.
"What do you mean?" I cock my head toward him.
He sinks to his knees in front of me, looking into my eyes with an intensity that’s almost frightening. "If we cross this line, everything changes. We-" He swallows. "I will never be able to be apart from you. Everything between us will be different."
I sit down on the bed. Then I reach my hands around my back, reaching for the clasp of my bra. As I unhook each tiny hook, one at a time, he watches me, eyes wide but excited.
Finally I reach the last one and I look at him, pleading with my eyes, trying to show him just how much I need him. We're face to face, and as I unhook the last of the clasps, I bring my arms tight against my sides so as not to allow my bra to completely fall away.
I bring my hands back around to cup his face.
"I'm tired of fighting the urge to kiss you." I lean in and kiss him. Softly, gently. "I'm no longer able to resist being closer to you. I can't stand that we sleep in separate rooms, or that I feel as though I can't touch you." I splay my right hand wide and run the tips of my fingers down his beautiful face from his forehead to his chin. As I reach his lips they part, and I feel his hot breath caress my hand.
"Bring our dream to life. Show me that you cannot resist me." I straighten my arms, pull them away from my body, and let my bra fall down, fully exposing my breasts. The cool air hardens my nipples further.
I hear his sharp intake of breath. "You are so beautiful. An angel. My angel."
He reaches up to cup my face and brings his lips to mine. I feel him push forward, pushing me onto my back, and by some miracle, I manage to pull my wings in as he lays me back on the bed.
He hovers over me, the skin of his tight stomach gently touching mine as our lips continue their slow, sensual assault, lighting up my senses.
He trails his fingers down my neck, along my chest, across my nipple. I moan as the ache is relieved by his touch. He continues down my ribs to my stomach, and the sweet touch along my bump once again sends delicious shivers through my body
.
He begins to kiss me along the same path his hand has just taken, and goose bumps begin to radiate across my skin.
I'm lost to my desire.
CHAPTER FOUR
Give Me Love
ONE
“What have you done to me?” His voice cracks, the effect like gargling gravel. The last thing he knew, he’d come to the cave to tell him about Vivienne. There was a girl with him, but all he can remember is a flash of light and the pain.
The growl comes from across the room. “I have given you life anew! Do not make such inquiries of me again!” From deep in the shadows emerges a man – no, not a man, something far more sinister than anything any man has ever laid eyes upon. Skin the color of charcoal and flame. Two horns at the peak of his skull, and wide, black and red wings even taller than he is flared out behind him.
Understanding immediately that he is once again in the presence of the devil himself, the human kneels in submission. “I’m sorry, my lord.”
“Your apologies are weak and unnecessary. A servant of mine does not express remorse.” The devil takes two more steps. With each step his body changes, morphing into a body like any other man’s. He is tall with long, black hair and deep, dark eyes.
“Rise!” he growls, and the human rises, still looking at the floor. “Look at me.”
He raises his head, and shock etches his features. He knows by his voice that the man standing before him is the same demon, but now the demon’s features are, well, normal. But the human is not fooled; he knows the demon is still just as menacing as he was a moment ago.
“What I’ve done to you is bring you back to life.” The devil laughs. “I’ve brought you back because your drive is unparalleled to anything I’ve ever seen before.” He takes another step toward his lesser. “I’m giving you one chance, and one chance only, to bring her to me, dead or alive. If you fail you will spend eternity with the ghouls, who would love nothing more than to torture you after I kill you.”
TWO
Mikah has found his own personal heaven on earth: There is nothing sweeter than kissing Vivienne. Her scent is like flowers on a warm summer day. It’s heady, and he can’t stop himself from kissing her as if his life depends on it.
His hands roam, slowly and gently, up and down her body while his mouth moves along her jaw, down her neck, onto her shoulder. Her head falls back and she squirms under his touch. Her desire for him has grown hotter with each passing touch of his lips. She’s never experienced anything so sweet and kind. She understands that what he’s doing is proving that she is all that matters, right here, right now.
Her breathing begins to spike as his mouth moves down to her breasts, skirting her nipples. The ache in them is scorching hot and she wants his tongue to ease her need.
Instead, his mouth moves lower still, over her bump to the junction of her thighs. He kisses her there. Licks, and then teasingly drags his teeth along the flesh, and she moans at the sensation. He’s yet to make any real contact with any intimate part of her; he’s only showing her and her body what he’s capable of.
Then his wings blaze at the same time a knock on the door interrupts their heavy breathing. “Mikah. Vivienne. Please, we need to go. Now.”
“What? Where?” Mikah moves off of Vivienne, and she instinctively reaches for the covers.
“We need to go into Elysium. Now.” Red’s voice is stern, unwavering, as Mikah scrambles to his feet.
His eyes meet hers, wary. He wants to explain to her what is going on, but then he sees in her eyes that this is unnecessary; she knows of Elysium and knows more than he thought she knew.
“Mikah, it’s alright. Red, give us a moment, please?” She turns her head toward the door but never breaks eye contact with him. “You have nothing to be afraid of. Let’s get dressed, okay?” she asks, nodding at him.
Though he’s looking at her, he’s not entirely sure what he’s seeing.
Only a few moments ago they were in the heat of passion. Both their wings have made an appearance, and while he understood then that she knows what he is, he didn’t fully understand what he was seeing. Confusion had wracked his brain as he tried hard to decipher whether he was awake or dreaming. But now reality hits him: This is no dream, and she fully knows and understands who and what he is.
He’d noticed when he laid her down that she was without her wings. Asking her seemed like the appropriate thing to do. She’d be his best teacher to show him. “How do I, um…” His voice is gravelly and unsure. “How can I pull these back in?” he manages to finish, and she smiles.
“You concentrate, then visualize them locking back into place. Give it a try.”
He steels himself, afraid of what might happen if he isn’t able to pull them back in. Then he flexes so that he can feel the point where his wings and body come together.
She watches his wings flare slightly and flap while his face shows that he’s concentrating.
Steadily his wings pull in, shrinking moment by moment as he concentrates. Then a furrow appears on his brow, and his wings stop retracting and instead expand.
“Relax, you’re doing great,” she encourages him.
The furrow softens and he concentrates again. This time he doesn’t stop until he feels the click and his wings are locked down.
Opening his eyes, he sees a bright, warm smile on her face. Then his gaze drifts downward and he realizes that she is still topless. The sight of her looking up at him causes his breath to hitch. She really is beautiful; her fair skin, bright red hair, beautiful blue eyes and luscious pink lips drive his desire deeper than it was only a few minutes ago.
The knock on the door comes again, and Vivienne stands and reaches for her shirt. He takes it from her and helps her into it.
She senses his worry, but it’s unclear to her whether it is coming from the fear that he thinks she doesn’t know about Elysium or if it stems from the fact that Red also seems to know more about what is going on than he does. She tries to ease his worry. “Please Mikah, it will be alright.”
He doesn’t say anything right away, but he knows deep down that she is right. “I don’t have any clothes in here,” he says. “Are you good to go in what you’re wearing?”
“Yes, I just want to pull my hair back,” she says as she slides past him toward the bathroom.
“Don’t, I like your hair down.”
She smiles and turns toward him.
Tonight they’ve reached a turning point in their relationship. Everything from here on will be different. That invisible barrier separating them has dropped, and somewhere inside she knows that Mikah is who she wants and what she needs, and that everything is falling into place.
Mikah smiles at her as he heads toward the door. His smile is warm, genuine. That hint of something she’s seen before slides over his features again, that something she’s yet to figure out but he knows to be love.
He opens the door to find Red standing about two feet away.
“We must hurry,” he says, his eyes avoiding Mikah’s.
Vivienne comes to stand on the threshold of the bedroom door.
“How is it that you know about Elysium?” Mikah asks. He’s not sure he wants to know the answer, but the question will bug him until he knows.
“Mikah,” Viv interjects before Red can answer, “I think it is best if we do what he says. I’m sure you can get the answer to that question while we’re there.”
Mikah strides past Red toward the other bedroom, his body language betraying a mixture of determination and frustration. Vivienne can understand why. He thought he knew all the secrets of those surrounding him, and that is proving to be wrong. Vivienne was the primary secret; he never expected Red to be part of it too.
As Mikah enters the other room, Red says, “Mikah, we will explain everything to you, but right now, we need to go to Elysium.”
Vivienne and Red exchange a look. Vivienne starts to follow Mikah, but just before she makes it to the doorway, he comes back out, wearing a b
lack t-shirt and his pajama pants.
“Lead the way,” Mikah says.
Red turns and heads back toward the front door, but he stops short at the guest bathroom. He swings open the door to reveal not the expected bathroom but rather the room in Elysium where Vivienne and Mikah have spent so many nights in their dreams.
Mikah stops dead in his tracks. “What the hell is going on here?” he says, confusion radiating off him. The only way he’s known how to get into Elysium is through dreams; now all of a sudden his bathroom has been turned into a portal.
Vivienne turns to him and takes a hold of his upper arm. “Mikah, look at me.”
He looks at her, his face screwed up with confusion, seeking comfort and explanation.
“It’s alright. Let’s go do this, and then I will explain everything I know about all of this to you. Okay?” Her voice is sternly sincere.
“Okay,” he says, his resolve setting in.
She can see the shift in him as the protector he was born to be returns. She completely understands his reaction; it’s similar to her own yesterday morning, when everything she thought she knew was twisted into something else.
He takes her hand from his arm. But rather than brushing her off, he intertwines their fingers, and together they step through the doorway into the white room.
THREE
In front of them is a bank of windows, only this time they can actually see through them into a luscious green garden. In front of them are two couches, one longer and one shorter, that form an L shape around a empty space where a coffee table would normally be.
Off to their right is the outline of another door, only there is no handle or knob to open it. Every other wall in the room is solid white, broken up by small windows.
They come to stand behind the long couch, and on the other side of it is a woman. As they approach, she turns toward them. She is beautiful in a youthful way, with long hair and soft features.
“Hello, Mother,” Mikah says with a curt nod in her direction. The tension in his body is visible.
