My tongue explores my mouth as the pricking becomes more pronounced and my mouth heats as if I’ve eaten a chili. My canines lengthen and the teeth either side change shape too.
Without realizing, I’ve taken hold of Ben’s shoulder in a claw-like grip, and my other hand wraps around his waist. Oh, yes, his body is mine. It’s dangerous, primal strength encased in the form of man.
My eyes close and my nostrils flare. I scent something spicy. My tongue flicks over parched lips. I feel something hot. My fangs itch in my gums and burn at their cores. I hear something rushing, thundering. I taste it. Oh, I’m thirsty. I gasp for something wet and fiery to quench the hollow cavern in my middle. Hmm. Ben. I want to taste him, to sink my teeth into him and drink him in.
What! This shocks me and I resist the urges of my body, appalled at myself even as my mind tells me its natural.
My throat contracts, swelling and blocking my airway. This time, fully aware, I don’t like the sensation at all. I drop Ben and clasp both hands around my neck as my mouth opens wider and my head rocks back. Nasty choking sounds tear from my throat.
Ben clasps the back of my head and pushes himself on me. “You must drink! It will pass, I promise, the pain will pass. Drink, and finish this.” His arm rubs against my lips, tempting. “Die, my love.”
I do as he says, grabbing the first part of him I can, which happens to be his offered bicep. My jaw instinctively clamps with brute force. Skin rips. Blood gushes. My teeth slice through the firm flesh and hardened muscle. The popping sound and peppery spurt of blood that floods my mouth tastes no different to the fragrant juice that would spill from fruit flesh … had that been what I ate. Delicious. I suck harder, my tongue lapping up the liquid so I can swallow in covetous gulps. Oooh. It flows into my stomach and eases the swelling in my throat. I crawl onto him. My hand pushes his face away and my knees trample all over his lap, afraid he will pull away and deny me his life force.
Pain fractures my thoughts. Splints of memory scratch across my eyes in violent flashes that frighten me.
I throw myself back and fly off the bed to crash into the wall. It gives before I fall again, flat on my face. Hot candle wax splashes across my thigh, cheek, and shoulder. Soil sticks to my damp body, having cushioned the fall, and I squirm wanting the cruel influx of recollection to end. I have not lived these lives so why do I see them? Why do I feel them? The loose earth on my skin gifts a calming energy I cannot describe. It’s primitive, cosmic, and I sigh in relief, embracing whatever magic heals me. Another wave of intense memory tears me apart, and I’m on my back screeching.
Ben murmurs words of comfort, by my side again. Oh, darling. Help me please! I twist into him needing him close. He understands and pulls me beneath him; his hands already roam over me. “Yes,” I breathe, already his actions invoke better memories.
They are shadows. They pleasure me as Ben plays my body. His hands brush over my lips and I feel the press of a dozen mouths. It’s unexpected, unexplained, and would feel perverted if I didn’t understand these shadows are ghosts of the past. Ben’s mouth skims my nipple and a hundred mouths suckle me. Oh god. I cry out, husky, wanton. My hands flutter on his shoulders, urging him on. His mouth slides up my thighs, fingers dancing along my stomach and twisting the fabric of my top. It tears, ripped in one irritated yank. Ben pulls me flush to him and kisses my shoulders, pushing my top away and the material flutters away. My joggers suffer the same fate.
We hold each other, a brief shelter from the storm. We bob in a turbulent sea of desire, knowing that when we move the spell will break and we will be swept away.
The ties to my old self are severing, the bonds to humanity bent to breaking.
Ben, hold me tighter!
Sweaty and naked, I pant, feeling his fingers trail down my body and come closer to the wetness between my legs. His finger slides over where I burn, and I buck, the movement repeated by the shadow memories. I fist a hand in his hair and the other on his wrist. I crush my mouth to his and our tongues tangle.
Mine. Uh … my voice is not that deep. My brows pull together. What…? I want you … so badly… my heart, my love what you’ve given me…. My eyes fly open. I hear Ben’s thoughts! Up until now he’s projected them to me, pushed them into my mind, but now I hear him. Oh no, wait, everything is muddling, becoming a blur. Why…. She’s wet. My heart, I am going to fuck–
Okay, Lee, you were not supposed to hear that.
Moving faster than I think my body actually can, I flatten Ben on his back. Disorientated, I close my eyes so my mind can catch up with my actions. Got it? Yes, okay.
He snarls at me, baring his fangs, his eyes glittering dangerously as if I’d stolen his favourite treat. His teeth are not scary anymore – far from it. I’ll bite back now, love. I hiss at him, flashing my own canines in warning, and let repressed lust rumble forth. Ben’s erection grows and presses into my stomach. Ugh, I want this too badly. It’s too hot. Air, I need to breathe. I roll my head back and gasp. It does nothing. My head is taking flight so I gasp again and squeeze my eyes shut. A thousand couplings before this one come to mind. Each vivid and passionate. Different men and women are taking me in every way possible. I’m sweaty, in excruciating agony, and the pleasure rides me so hard I’m about to…. Um, no I’m not! I shake my head, confused. I have not done these things, why do I remember them so clearly?
Ben’s hands grip my hips, coax me higher so he can slide his length deep into my wetness, and poises himself at my entrance. This act is instinctive and every urge points south. I’m not afraid; I’m bursting with love, with excitement. He eases me down. I hiss, feel myself stretch, and fill. Heat creeps up my neck and spills in my cheeks. My fingertips tingle and I tremble. He smiles, radiant, and thrusts to plunge inside me to the hilt. Sharp pain rips across the pleasure, but is swallowed by greater pains, and greater pleasure.
I watch him through my lashes, biting my lip. Lust flits across his beautiful face. Dark hair falls into his eyes and a quick flick of his head shifts the strands aside. He spears me with his gaze, direct, bold. Hey! I still blush, and feel hot and cold. I rake my fingernails down Ben’s chest. Raw passion blazes in his eyes and I’ve no warning when he thrusts again. The move is echoed by a barrage of memory. I come. My channel clenches him tight, and my juices flood from me. Fireworks? My back arches as Ben smoothes his hands down my torso, cupping my waist, fingers digging in.
The memories come fast, excruciating and mind blowing. I clasp my head, not knowing what to do. The pleasure is too much and I come again. Oh my god, I cannot take it. Everything is multiplied and uncontrolled. Wild. The world is that much smaller and I feel … swollen? Overfed? My body mass is too much … my molecules have solidified into something else.
Ben rolls me beneath him, still connected, still rigid. He buries his head in the crook of my shoulder and pumps harder. His body is heavy and hot! I don’t get it, my Ben is cool skinned. Or has my temperature changed now? My heart thunders, my legs and arms are no longer numb but burning. Shards of ice are being pressed into my skin. Are they are growing? My sockets strain, my joints creak. I’m dying, changing. I feel it; the difference between what I am and what I am about to be. Life leaves me and is being gifted to me anew. And … oh no. I shudder at the dark force welcoming me, marking my soul with an iron brand I will never be able to scrub off. I understand now why Ben had resisted this. I feel the power flow through me, unnatural, other.
Lee, you wanted this, you know what you signed up for. Take it.
Light headed, body floating, I interlock my fingers with Ben’s and move with him. I am becoming like him, his mate, his kind. Goodbye, humanity, I can’t stay.
The dark force takes shape, face mockingly cruel, and swallows my soul whole. This elemental piece of me, my spirit, my essence, is spat out tainted. This twisted perversion has been altered so I can wreak evil upon the world.
It’s thrust back into my empty yet unwilling body. I’m powerless to stop it.
Changing.
Ben clutches me as he comes, his body quaking.
My heart gives out as my soul is claimed by the dark, and I sigh my last breath into his shoulder.
My love weeps.
My old life has ended.
Ben’s bloody tears mingle with mine as the world goes black.
Chapter 10
Wake, Child
Thirsty. Itchy. Dry and uncomfortable. Why can’t I swallow? My eyes blink open and I gasp, body rising as if buoyant. Truly, I feel weightless, and yet, heavy at the same time; as if I’m dragging a truckload of mass behind me.
I stand, hair covering my face like a veil, and peak between the strands. Huh. The iron bed frame is broken, buckled in the middle. Did I do that? I glance behind me and remember hitting the wall. There is large dent and circular cracks in the plaster. Hmm. And what of Ben? I brush crumbling candle wax and dirt from my arm, still feeling it reviving, and calming energy seeps into my pores. Is that why Ben left me there, so it continued to work its healing magic on me?
I have no clothes, and though I’m not cold, I’d like to cover up. Standing in the centre of the room awkwardly, I chew my lip. I pick up the crumbled fabric close by and shake my head, letting it fall from my fingers. The clothes are ruined.
Lee, it’s not rocket science, just find more clothes.
I pop my head out into the stairway. “Ben?” I croak into the darkness.
With tentative steps, I make my way down these stairs and come to the main hallway. I slip into the first room I find, and joy, it’s a closet. Here are all Ben’s clothes. So … he hasn’t just turned me and disappeared into the night without a trace. Not that at any point that is what I was thinking, anyway.
I pick up expensive watches and all styles of hat. I try on oversized boots and expensive leather shoes. I put on one of his many trench coats and flash myself in his wall length mirror. Oh, what a silly fool I am. In the end, I grab a simple off-white shirt with a granddad collar, half buttoned, a pair of black loose boxers, and a pair of ribbed socks. I roll up my sleeves and find a brush to tug through my hair. Halfway through, the bristles tangle at the back. I stop, because, ow, it hurts. How does one get dried candle wax out of their hair? Sigh. I’m dressed a little strangely, but it’s better than naked.
Now to do something about the hollow feeling in my middle and the horrible dry burn in my throat, ah, it’s ghastly!
Outside in the hallway, I stand with one foot rubbing the back of my calf and peer down toward the west, wondering if maybe he’s down there. I don’t want to travel too far from where he left me. I feel sensitive and vulnerable emotionally, and I want to stay somewhere familiar. Should I feel that way? Surely, I should feel strong and without limits, yet, I have this horrible feeling like … this is what I will feel forever now. That all emotion will feel ten times worse and ten times better. “Ah, Ben?” I call again into the darkness, but nothing echoes back at me. Well, nothing but my own worried voice.
I smell him everywhere, but I can’t hear him or feel him.
Back up the stairs in my tower, I stand in the darkened room and draw a blank. What now? I touch a candlewick and its cold, the wax hard. I prod the whitened wood in the fireplace. It is stone cold. Thin layers of dust cover everything.
Lee! Stop ignoring it, listen to it … hear it.
Thump. I turn looking for the source. There is no one in this room but me. Is that … is that my heart? Not possible! My heart is still now. Isn’t it? Thump. Thump.
I rub the heel of my hand to my chest and feel my heart slam harder to my breastplate as I panic. Right, okay, I need Ben and I need him now. I get our kind might be somewhat solitary and desire time alone, but I need to see him and for him to tell me I’m okay. Did everything work like it should have? My heart is still beats. Why is it beating? Did something go wrong and Ben couldn’t bear to stay and deal with the disaster?
I’m short of breath. My palms are clammy. Bile rises in my throat. Am I…? Yes, I think I’m having a panic attack. The walls are closing in, there is horrible moisture on my face, and my heart is about ten beats from going splat.
I stumble over to the balcony doors and get tangled in the ceiling to floor voile. God, what is it with me and more than four yards of fabric? I manage to work my way around it, the voile twisting over my chest and right leg as I push the handle down to get out. Nothing happens. I rattle it but the door stays closed. I get this charge, more like a tingly burn, actually. It races to my extremities and I slam my palms against the door panels. The doors fly off their hinges and over the balcony ledge. Seconds later they crash into smithereens at the base of the castle. At least, I think they do from the cacophony of sound. I’m still twisted up in the voile with my palms raised to the sky with my mouth open. Oh. I hope Ben did not need those, um, doors.
I step out onto the balcony and immediately my heart slows and my body relaxes. The open air is marvellous and I breathe in briny smell of the sea behind me deeply. Rain taps the crown of my head, and I tilt my face to watch the droplets plummet to earth from a starry sky.
Thump.
I stop laughing and my head snaps down toward the sound.
Thump. Thump.
Ah! Where is that coming from? That one is most definitely not mine, the tempo is different. With this sound comes a faint scent I recognize. “Ben,” I whisper.
Entwined with his distinctive and familiar smell is that of older and colder scents I do not recognize. This provokes an inner caution and I growl, crouching. I pace forward, jump. I shift to move forward again but higher brain function kicks in and backpedals with a girlish squeal. I’m perched on the railing like raptor, my fingers curled into claws and my chin thrust forward. I reel back and land on my bum. Oomph! Wonderful. Was I going to jump or something? Off the tower balcony?
I look down at my hands, at my feet. If I did, what would happen? I feel … different. No, not like I expected, but still, more than I used to be. Okay, no time to stop and ponder yourself, oh mighty one, get to Ben. I look through the cast iron bars and gnaw my top lip. Hmm. Possibly I could work the stairs instead?
God! Jump off the bloody balcony, Lee. Deadly immortal now, remember?
Breathing out in a huff, I close my eyes and vault over the waist-high railing, my limbs bunching before springing open lithely. When will I hit the–
Ugh! Abruptly, my legs and torso reach impact together. I’ve a mouth full of green stuff, and I’m sinking into wet grass, which broke my fall. It does not hurt … much. I hear the water crash against the foundations of the castle, and the gulls cackle at me. Assholes. My eyes close briefly. Right. The moat and battlements.
You did not think to check for those things before you jumped off a four-storey balcony, Lee?
Whatever. I sit up and brush myself off. Again, I suck in a breath to catch onto Ben’s scent. His smell is everywhere but fainter in some directions. The one I’m following is stronger, warmer? I crawl toward it. The Lycan forest is in the corner of my vision but I ignore the strange pull to investigate it. Going into those woods would make Ben incandescent with anger, of that I’m sure.
Incandescent? What an odd word choice. Ha, look at me, I know words like incandescent. In fact, my mind feels odd. I stop crawling and puzzle this through. It’s more spacious. There are many more rooms filled to bursting, and locked shut, but, I still have smaller cupboards of knowledge from my old life. My thought pattern is definitely different. I’m coming to conclusions faster, I think. Less of a mental debate about everything I see and do. Am I happy about this? Well, I’m not unhappy, I guess. Is being less in my own head is a good thing?
I stand up and expect all manner of things to start throbbing. Nope. Nothing.
I look back up at the tower, keep looking up, and feel queasy. That is pretty damn high. My first step is a lurch; because let’s face it I’m trembling now and calling myself all kinds of a fool. Why did I do that? I don’t even know if what Ben did to me worked properly.
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God, I’m an ass.
After a while I’m good. I relive the night before and find a new bounce to my step. Ben and I made love. Yes, I’m sure of that. It was … mind-blowing too. I distinctly remember holding my head, but otherwise my transformation is hazy. I look up at the moon and freeze mid step. The moon is waxing. I close my eyes and think real hard about what I had seen as Ben brought me to this field last night. No, no it was definitely a waning moon last night. I scratch at my throat. Um, slightly panicked. That would mean I’ve been unconscious for nearly a month. That can’t be. Impossible. A month? I must have it wrong, seriously wrong. Ben said the transformation wouldn’t take long.
Ah, Lee? Is time not relative? Ben has been alive for centuries. Long to him might be a decade whereas long to you might mean a few hours.
I definitely should have asked Ben for more information on what was going to happen to me. Oh love. How long did you sit at my side, as I lay stone cold and still. I wish you were there when I woke, I would have held you, and assured you I was okay. I frown as I walk on. If Ben was at my side the whole time, as I have no doubt he was, why did he choose now to leave? He must have known I would wake soon, so what would be important enough to take him from my side? He would want to comfort me, tell me what I needed to know. He would never leave me this confused. So why did he?
I find myself on the tarmac of the main road and take a moment to pick a direction. Ben’s scent says left, so, I go left. Nibbling my lip, I try to work through the influx of memories pinging around in my skull. Our kind have lived for so long, been so many places, and have seen … so much. And lost so much.
Headlights appear on the road and I duck off, crouching down until the car passes. It keeps happening so I start to walk on the edge of the road instead of the centre.
Thump, thump.
I twist around. Someone follows me. That heartbeat, I keep hearing it, but it’s not mine. I peer into the darkness, which does not seem to hinder my sight. Hmm. I have been seeing in the dark this whole time. Still, I don’t see anybody else; but that damn pulse is driving me mad.
Die, My Love Page 11
