Mona Lisa Awakening m-1

by Sunny

  My answer made Amber smile.

  "Will it hurt you?" I asked.

  "It will hurt me more if you do not."

  My answering smile caressed him as I carefully straddled him. His sex was huge and hard. I loved the feel of him in my hand: big, warm, and pulsing. I squeezed him tightly and his eyes fluttered shut. I dipped down onto him, letting him enter me slightly before lifting back up after wetting the tip of him. His thick neck grew taut.

  "Next time I shall be on top," Amber muttered through gritted teeth, his eyes narrow gold slits.

  I laughed. "I don't know about that. We might have to wrestle for it. I'm beginning to like this position."

  Amber's growl turned into a groan as I lowered back down. Leaning back, I rubbed his wonderful thick rod against my wet outer lips, moving up and down gently against him. I spread the moisture around the rest of him and slowly pushed down onto his stiff member. There was just enough lubrication to allow him to enter me, increment by increment. Just enough so that I could feel every single sensation as he stretched me, feel every delicious rub of his ridged tip as it bumped and pushed its way with excruciating, killing slowness into my tight greedy flesh. I swallowed him up, inch by glorious inch, and he filled me so blissfully full so that only then did I realize how empty I had been.

  I sighed with the satisfaction of a difficult job well done when he was finally buried full within me.

  "Come here," Amber rumbled.

  I braced my arms, bent down over him, and felt his hardened staff resist then bend within me as I angled my body over him.

  "Closer," he said.

  I lowered myself down until my lips were a breath away from his jaw. Amber turned his head and licked Halcyon's neat puncture marks, laving away the Demon Prince's scent and replacing it with his own. My inner muscles clenched around Amber in involuntary response at his tongue's rough caress. He twitched within me, stretching my posterior vaginal wall and I gasped and bit back a moan. I felt his teeth clamp upon my neck. Felt Amber bite down hard enough for it to hurt, but not enough to break skin. Felt him suck hard, laving the spot with the rough texture of his tongue, leaving his own mark there over Halcyon's. My body pulsed and spasmed, screaming within, glowing, even as my scream of pleasure strangled in my throat as I desperately tried to be quiet.

  I felt Amber's mouth move in a demonic smile against my neck as he tortured me as thoroughly as I had tortured him, without even lifting his arms.

  The power built and our incandescence lit the room. So close. So close to the edge now. Supporting my weight completely on my left hand, I wrapped my other hand around his bulging bicep, needing something to grip on to.

  Amber moved to the other side of my neck, licked gently along the swollen, tender flesh and made me whimper as he breathed over the open wound. Made me gasp and quiver as he touched his tongue just there and then push slowly, oh so slowly, down into my raw flesh. Not moving. Just there. Exquisite pain. Exquisite pleasure.

  One gentle push deeper with his tongue, filling me, stretching wounded flesh and I convulsed, exploded within, my inner muscles clenching and contracting about him, gripping his huge, thick sex. My body tried its inner best to milk him dry as I held still, frozen above him in immobility, unable to move for fear of hurting him.

  Amber groaned as if I were killing him as he climaxed without even a single stroke. His stillness within me allowed me to feel and absorb every spurt and shuddering jet of his pleasure.

  I lifted my head. Looking at the astonishing wholeness of Amber's flesh put a whole new meaning to good sex. His ribs had knit back together. His muscles and sinews were untorn. His skin was once again velvety smoothness. A bloody miracle.

  "I must apologize," he said suddenly, stiltedly. "I was too forward."

  "I don't mind, Amber," I said, pushing back my hair. "I like it that you were a little bossy. It means that you feel comfortable enough with me to be yourself. Is that what you're really like?" I asked teasingly. "Arrogant and domineering?"

  "I do not know."

  The utter sincerity of his words punched me like a fist, destroying me. My lashes swept down to shield my emotions from him. Dear sweet Jesus. Over a hundred and five years of life and he did not know what he was really like.

  "Thank you for healing me," Amber said, gifting me with another of his rare sweet smiles. "Now we can go find your brother."

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Pelham Manor was a quietly affluent residential neighborhood perched at the edge of Westchester County. Birds chirped cheerfully, welcoming the day as we disembarked from the limo several blocks away. Lawns were neatly manicured and the thick hedges planted long ago.

  An odd mix of feelings assailed me at the thought of my brother, Thaddeus, growing up here—hope that he had been happy and loved, along with a twisting pain at the possibility that he may not need me or welcome my intrusion into his life. They might have moved, I had told myself repeatedly. But still I'd had to come and see for myself in case they hadn't.

  The house I sought was a stately Tudor with a dark tiled roof and large windows set in a cul-de-sac in front of a large wooded lot. There didn't seem to be any danger in this quiet, peaceful neighborhood. No foreign scent or sign of intrusion.

  We moved into the trees and I opened my senses. There were three heartbeats within the dwelling. Two beating human-fast, one slower. My heart gave a painful thump. The sounds from within the house came clearly to my ear.

  A woman's voice calling upstairs, "Thaddeus, I made you a turkey-salad wrap."

  A boy's answering groan. "Aw, Mom, can't I buy lunch at school?"

  "No, dear. They use white bread and too much greasy meat. Plus, it's not organic."

  Feet galloped down stairs. A muttered, "I hate organic stuff."

  "It's good for you."

  "Morning, Dad."

  A man's lower voice. "Ready to go, son?"

  "Yeah." The sound of a quick kiss planted.

  His mother's "Good luck on your math test."

  The cocky reply. "Piece of cake."

  The garage door rose and a black Mercedes sedan pulled out onto the road, driven by an older, bespectacled man with gray, thinning hair. He looked kind and intellectual. A boy with the slighter, rangier build of youth sat in the passenger's seat beside him. His pure black hair glistened as the sunlight streaking through the trees fell upon it.

  With no warning, the boy turned his head to where I stood back among the trees. His gaze seemed to look right upon me. I had one too-brief moment to sec his dark eyes, tilted up at the ends exotically like mine, before he disappeared around a corner and from my sight.

  A long silence ensued.

  "He seems happy," I whispered finally. I'd been so sure that he'd needed me. But he didn't. He had a home and a loving family. He was safe. There were no signs of intruders. My presence would only disrupt the tranquility of his life.

  I swallowed the lumpy conclusion down my painfully tight throat. "Come on. Let's get back to the others," I whispered.

  Maybe someday I would introduce myself to him, I told myself. Someday when he was older.

  Aquila had gotten a suite with connecting rooms at the Plaza. It must have been the Presidential suite or something. The rooms were huge, bigger than my entire apartment. I turned on the television to the local news channel the next day as was my habit, half listening to the low volume, screening for any unusual events that might help pinpoint Sandoor's whereabouts while half listening to Chami instructing his raptly attentive three warrior novices—Jamie, Tersa, and Rosemary.

  Charm was discoursing like a university professor on the proper way of holding a dagger when a newscaster's mention of a familiar name snagged my attention. A semi whose driver had fallen asleep had drifted across the road and struck an oncoming car, killing the two front passengers. A third passenger had miraculously survived and was listed in stable condition at Westchester County Medical Center. The driver escaped with minor injuries.

  Just anoth
er motor vehicle accident tragedy on the Hutchinson River Parkway. Nothing unusual but for the names of the dead victims: Henry and Pauline Schiffer. Thaddeus's adopted parents. A brief commentary followed on the hazards of cross-country trunk driving and tight deadlines that frequently did not allow drivers adequate time for sleep. Accidents and death-rate statistics were listed.

  I made no sound but the sudden pounding of my heart alerted the men to my distress.

  "What is it?" Gryphon asked.

  "Thaddeus's parents. I think they're dead." Numbly, I picked up the phone and dialed the Pelham Manor telephone number seared into my memory.

  Five rings. And then ten. No answer.

  I hung up, called Information, got the medical center's phone number, and listened to the usual hospital recording that said, "Thank you for calling Westchester County Medical Center. If this is a medical emergency, please press four now. If you are calling from a touch-tone phone…"

  I pressed the appropriate numbers to reach Patient Room Information and waited impatiently for a live person to finally come on the line.

  "I need to know the room number for Thaddeus Schiffer, please." I spelled out the last name.

  A moment later I hung up the phone and looked at Gryphon with stricken eyes. "He's there," I whispered. "His parents are dead."

  Chapter Twenty Three

  The drive to the hospital took an interminable thirty-five minutes during which time Gryphon, Amber, and Chami left me to my brooding silence.

  In the grand atrium of the busy medical center, a plump woman in her forties told us with a professional, regretful smile that sorry, only two guests were allowed up at a time to see a patient. Her gaze lingered on Gryphon's striking loveliness for a moment, and the apology became more sincere, but the presence of the other two receptionists beside her prohibited her from bending the rules.

  Amber was left behind in the lobby, his formidable face wreathed in a ferocious scowl. Chami simply turned a corner, vanished, and followed us up, a blending blur.

  Once we were on the floor, it wasn't even necessary to look at the room numbers. I just listened for the slow heartbeat and followed it down a corridor to the last room. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the open door and entered, Gryphon and Chami behind me.

  He looked so young and fragile. The other bed was unoccupied, neatly made up. Scrapes and bruises marked Thaddeus's face and arms. A brand-new, creamy white fiberglass cast encased his right arm.

  "Yes?" his flat voice demanded.

  How did one introduce oneself? "My name is Mona Lisa. I just found out about your accident and came here to see you."

  "I don't know you," Thaddeus said, his face and voice devoid of emotion. "Did you know my parents?" he asked more softly.

  "No. I…" Reaching beneath my shirt, I drew out my silver cross. "Does this mean anything to you?"

  Recognition sparked in his eyes briefly before he blanked them. "Who are you?"

  I turned my cross over. "The back has my name and something else on the bottom."

  "Monère," Thaddeus said without expression. So he'd been able to see it, too.

  "Does that mean anything to you?" I asked.

  Dark intelligent eyes swept over me in careful assessment, then moved on to study the two men behind me. "No."

  "This cross was the only thing that identified me when I was left on the steps of Our Lady of Lourdes Orphanage as a baby. Did your parents tell you that you were adopted?" I asked quietly.

  "Who are you?" There was a new hard edge to his voice, a wary boy thrown early into manhood, so heartbreakingly different from the carefree kid I'd glimpsed just the day before.

  "I'm your sister."

  Thaddeus didn't challenge or deny the statement. Just complete and utter silence. There was the faintest trembling in his left hand before he curled it into a tight fist.

  "We have the same mother and I believe the same father. Our eyes… they had to have come from him." Because they hadn't come from our mother.

  Thaddeus said nothing.

  "Did your adopted parents have any brothers, sisters, parents?" I asked.

  Thaddeus shook his head. "No, they were only children. No living parents or grandparents. Only distant relations."

  "Anyone you can go to? That you want to live with?"

  "No," said Thaddeus, slowly. "I was going to ask a neighbor to become my legal guardian tor the two years that I needed one. Live in my own apartment. Continue in school."

  It wasn't a bad plan. He was old enough to drive and to get a job if he needed to. It would be safer than living with me. But, oh how I wanted him with me.

  The intensity of that desire shook my voice. "I would like, very much, for you to come and live with me. But if you did, it would disrupt your entire life." I immediately castigated myself over my bad choice of words. As if his life wasn't entirely disrupted already. "I'm moving to New Orleans to take up a position there. And there are a lot of other complicated things besides that," I finished lamely.

  Something flickered in Thaddeus's dark eyes then was gone. I wondered at such control in one so young. And wondered why he would need it.

  "Who are they?" Thaddeus asked, his gaze flicking to Chami and Gryphon.

  How to answer? Guard. Lover. "They are special friends who live with me… along with six others." I paused, helpless, unsure of what else to say. "Do you still wish to know more?"

  "You were there the other day. Outside my house," Thaddeus said suddenly.

  "Why… yes."

  At my admission, hot emotion darkened his eyes… triumph or relief, perhaps. I felt a brief flare of power so quickly reined in that I would have thought I'd imagined it but for the fact that Chami and Gryphon instantly moved forward to my side.

  "He is like you," Gryphon said in a low voice. "More."

  Another brief spurt of energy emanated from Thaddeus.

  My brother had an amazing ability to shield or suppress his power, I realized, that cracked only when he felt strong emotions.

  "Release your control, Thaddeus," I said quietly. "Let me reel you."

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  I searched those eyes so like mine and wondered if he spoke true. Did Thaddeus really not know what he did? Did his power scare him so much that he was in denial? Or was it an unconscious suppression?

  "Are there things different about you from other people?" I asked gently. "Can you hear things, see things others can't? jump farther, run faster? See better at night? Are you stronger than others?"

  "How did you know?" Thaddeus whispered shakily.

  "Because I'm the same way, as are Gryphon and Chami here."

  Thaddeus expelled a trembling breath. "I thought I was going crazy these past several months. That maybe insanity ran in my genes. I'd always had an active imagination."

  "No, it's very real," I assured him. "Insanity doesn't run in our blood," — at least I hoped it didn't—"but other things do. From the time I could remember, I was a little quicker, faster, stronger than others. Just slightly enough for it to pass as advanced physical development when I was young. But the abilities grew and blossomed beyond the point where they could be considered normal when I hit puberty at thirteen. I reached puberty later than other girls."

  Thaddeus didn't say anything, just listened to me with hard attention.

  "I always knew I was different, but never why until I met others like me a couple of weeks ago. Since then, my whole world has changed into one that is much more dangerous and deadly. But I have never been happier." I hesitated. "Do you want to know, really know, what you are?"

  "What, not who," Thaddeus observed dispassionately. "Why were you outside my house?"

  "I'd just discovered where you lived. I wanted to see if you were well."

  "Why did you leave without making yourself known to me?"

  "You were well, happy, loved. There was no need to disrupt your life."

  "I was loved but not well. Not mentally," Thaddeus said. "And
yes, I would like to know."

  And so I told him. About the Monère, about Full Bloods and Mixed Bloods.

  "You can shift into animal form?" Thaddeus asked, natural skepticism warring with a desire to believe.

  I smiled. "Only some of us. I do not possess that ability, though Gryphon does."

  Locking his eyes on Gryphon, Thaddeus demanded, "Show me."

  "It would be easier to allow Chami to demonstrate his gift," I said, turning to the slender man beside me. "If you don't mind, Chami."

  Chami grinned, bringing a wolfish cast to his sharp features. "Not at all, milady," he said and disappeared.

  "Holy shit!" Thaddeus exclaimed, his face pale.

  Chami reappeared and bowed with a flourish like an actor on stage.

  "Thank you, Chameleo," I said, my lips twitching.

  Thaddeus came to an abrupt decision. "Get me out of here."

  "How long did the doctors want to keep you?" I asked cautiously.

  "There's nothing wrong with me but for a broken arm and a mild concussion. They're only keeping me overnight because there was no one to observe me at home for twenty-four hours. They're getting a social worker involved tomorrow," Thaddeus said quietly.

  That decided it. It would be much easier keeping him out of the system in the first place rather than trying to extricate him out of it later.

  "You may have to sign out against medical advice," I warned.

  "No," Thaddeus corrected. "As my sister and closest of kin, you will. You're over twenty-one, right?"

  "I am twenty-one."

  "Good enough," Thaddeus declared and depressed the call button to summon a nurse.

  "Would you like to come live with me in New Orleans?" I asked.

  "Come with me to my home," Thaddeus invited. "Let me spent the next few days with you and your other 'special friends' before I decide."

  "All of them?" I asked.

  Thaddeus nodded. "Yes. I'd like to meet them."

  "All right," I agreed, liking his caution, wanting the opportunity to know this intelligent young man better.

  "It's the full moon tomorrow," Gryphon reminded me quietly.