“You tell me if it hurts,” he told her. She nodded and then he gave her what she asked for. This time the kiss had nothing sweet about it, nothing held back, and she responded more eagerly than he could have imagined.
For a fleeting moment he wondered how she'd hid her state of arousal so well. He might have pulled back to ask but then he felt her hands on his stomach, moving down until she had her hands against his length. The simple touch was almost painful because he was so hard. He wanted her, no, needed her more than he'd ever thought possible. Deacon broke the kiss only so that he could reach down and grab the hem of her shirt, found her skin underneath already bare.
It was impossible to go slow even though he knew that he should, that he should touch and tease until she was insane beneath him, but it had been so long. “Deke,” her hands dug into his shoulders.
Something snapped inside of him, he heard and felt it and the next thing he knew he had Vera on her stomach. The pajama pants she was wearing were no match for his strength or hunger; the material tore as he tugged them down.
“Oh, shit!” She moaned the words and he hadn't even touched her yet, not really. Deacon tossed the remains of the pants away and she rose to her knees.
He slid his hand between her legs and found her wet. “Fuck.”
“I sure as hell hope that's what we're about to do,” she replied as she looked over her shoulder to smile at him. Her ability to speak seemed to disappear as he slipped two fingers into her silky wetness. Moans and cries spilled from her throat, her hips moved against him. She was ready and that was all he needed to know.
Sinking into her was like nothing he'd ever felt, like coming home and being born all at once. Deacon grappled for control, hoped for enough blood to remain in his brain so that he didn't reach out to stroke her back.
She met every one of his strokes, no matter how fast and deep and he knew that there was no way he was going to last long. It was good, amazing, and he could feel the need for release rushing through him.
Deacon felt her body start to clench even tighter around him, so warm and wet around him. “Deke!” She cried out, fingers dug into the comforter. “Please. Please. Please. FUCK!” Her head flew back as tremors rolled through her body.
It was the feeling of her orgasm, the sound of his name on her lips that sent him over the edge with a growl. He thrust one last time, hard and deep, and buried himself completely inside of her. It was then and only then he realized that they hadn't been careful, hadn't been safe.
The idea of Vera carrying his child had him hardening inside of her once more.
Chapter TWENTY-FOUR
The days fell into a routine for Vera, and she was fine with that. Routine was good. Routine was normal. Doing the same thing over and over again gave her a feeling of order and peace. She would have been perfectly content if not for the damn calendar. An inanimate object was the largest source of her stress these days, because it proved that each that passed, each time she'd slept, had dinner or did the laundry, was one day closer to the dawning of the moon. One step closer to the ultimate answer to the only question that mattered, would she live?
On the outside she put on a brave face, didn't mention the impending event and when someone else did, she smiled and assured them that she was going to be just fine. Inside, deep down inside, behind the heavy steel she'd constructed to keep Deacon from knowing everything she felt, she was a mess. At night when Deacon slept, she'd ease from the bed, make preparations for if she didn't survive.
There were letters. She'd written letters to the three people who were now for all intents and purposes her family, trying to ease the pain that they'd feel and let them know how much she loved and adored all of them. The letter she wrote to Deacon was more of a book, a long-winded missive about how she needed him to survive past losing her. How she wanted him to be happy one day, to find someone else he could love. The paper was stained with tears because she knew that there was no way he survived her death.
Despite the roller coaster ride they'd had so far, there wasn't a thing that she would change given the chance, not even dying, if that was the price for feeling what she felt now. It was more than the empathy, more than love. It was being at home, it was being at peace. It was knowing that no matter what when she looked back there would be no regret.
The sound of a chime pulled her from her thoughts. It took a minute to realize that the sound came from the doorbell. They weren't expecting visitors and any mail they received was delivered to a box on the main road. Fear spread through her, the hair on the back of her neck stood up as she started towards the door.
It was one of the rare times when she was alone in the house. Deacon was at the factory where he made lawn chair parts, a job that was beneath him, but he did it without complaint. Susan was on another interview, this time with a clinic for low income families fifty miles away, and Houdini was just out. He'd been unable to find work. Tension was starting to spring back up among all of them with money being so tight, tighter than Vera had experienced since she first started New to You and had to live on dollar menu food for dinner most nights.
The doorbell rang again; whoever it was apparently lacked patience. It had to be a salesperson or someone who'd taken a wrong turn and gotten lost. She'd give them the best directions that she could and send them on their way. Instead of an unfamiliar salesperson or turned-around stranger, Vera found Lina on the other side of the door. “Hello, Vera.”
“Hello Lina.”
“May I come into your home?”
“Of course,” Vera smiled, or hoped that she did, and motioned for the woman to step inside. “I'm surprised to see you.” Her manners kicked in, trumping the nerves for the moment. “Would you like something to drink?”
“That would be good,” Lina smiled at her. “How are you all settling in?”
“Pretty smooth sailing so far,” Vera replied, “come with me to the kitchen, I can throw together something if you're hungry.” She wanted to ask, straight out, what the woman was doing there, but it would come across as rude.
“That would be very nice of you. And I must say, this is a lovely home. I had my doubts when you bought it sight unseen, but it's really great.”
“Thanks. I don't want to be rude, Lina, but why are you here?”
“It's not rude. It's a logical question. How you're feeling, Vera? The moon is close, only ten days away.”
“I'm aware of that and I feel fine, great even.” Vera entered the kitchen and took two bottles of water out of the fridge. “Please sit down. Is there anything you don't like to eat?”
“I'm not too particular, especially when I'm this hungry.” Lina sat down at the table. For the first time Vera realized that the woman was dressed much more casually than any other time that she'd seen her. Still she was a beauty even in simple jeans and a black sweater.
To someone watching from the outside they'd appear to be friends just sitting around and talking, enjoying each other’s company, but Vera knew that this wasn't a simple social call. “Okay, let me see what I have and while I do, I'd greatly appreciate if you tell me why you're here, Lina.”
“I need to speak to Deacon. There's something that we need done, and The Council has decided that he's the perfect person to do it.”
Vera recalled Deacon's words when he'd told her about The Strays. They'd require a favor, or more than one, and when they attempted to collect there was no saying no. Cold fear flooded through her and she slammed it down, back behind the door where all her worse fears lived, before Deacon could get the slightest hint of it. “I'm sure it won't be a problem,” she swallowed hard. “Do you like pasta?”
“Love it,” Lina replied. “I fear that it may be a problem, as it's something that's going to take him away from you, possibly until after the full moon. I realize that must be upsetting for you to hear; however, I need you to know that it's not optional. This needs to be done. The Council has ordered it. Do you understand what that means?”
“I'
m not stupid, I know what optional means.” It meant that even if Deacon didn't want to go, he had to, and she had to make sure that he did. Maybe it was actually for the best, maybe it was better for him to be as far away from her as possible when the moon rose. “He'll do it. You don't have to worry about that.”
“I'm worried about you,” Lina replied. “You say you feel good, but you don't look it. I'm sorry to be blunt. Why don't you tell me the truth?”
“I've been feeling a little run down, it's not surprising. I've got a ton of stuff going on with getting settled here.”
“Have you been feeling ill?”
“Maybe a little, but I think it's just a cold.”
“It's not,” Lina let out a sigh. “It's the first effects of the bite, your body is trying to fight against it as it would try to fight off an infection. You've been having fevers? Chills? Sweats?”
“Yes,” Vera yanked a pan off of the hanging rack, grabbed olive oil and garlic. “But it's just a cold, just a simple cold. Nothing more.”
“Vera...”
“I said it's a cold, nothing more,” she cut Lina off before she could say anything else. Stiff silence fell over the kitchen, and Vera did the only thing she could, she concentrated on making a marinara sauce, because if she didn't she was going to fall into a jumble of jagged pieces. Conversation had started again, very awkward and uncomfortable, but they'd managed to make it through Vera cooking without the subject of Vera's health or Deacon's task coming up.
Lina had eaten her pasta, had another bottle of water and then left as abruptly as she'd come. Vera was left alone in a quiet house with too much pasta and a heaviness on her shoulders she couldn't begin to describe.
She did the dishes, scrubbed down the kitchen so it was clean enough to perform surgery in to keep herself busy. If she was busy, then she couldn't think. If she didn't think then she wouldn't be tempted to open the envelope which Lina had left behind, the envelope that contained whatever The Council had ordered for Deacon to do.
Vera had called Susan, asked that she and Houdini get dinner out so that there would be time alone with Deacon to tell him most of what she'd learned from Lina. There was no way in hell she was telling him that her getting this stupid cold could very well be her body rejecting the first inkling of the change. When there was nothing left to clean, Vera headed into the living room, sat on the couch to wait. There was nothing else that she could do.
<#<#>#>#>#
The mirror on the wall near the door shook as Deacon pushed the front door open. He'd wanted to come home hours earlier, in the middle of the afternoon when he'd felt Vera close down on him. It was something that they'd talked about, agreed not to ever close down the empathy, especially now. “VERA!” He'd been unable to leave, leaving would mean losing his job, and right now he was the only one working in the house. Susan had a few good possibilities, but so far Houdini had no luck. Vera had offered to get a job and he'd said no. She had enough to worry about without trying to find work.
“I'm in the living room,” she called out, voice full of something that he couldn't place. What the fuck was going on?
“What happened?” He demanded as he strode into the living room. Vera was on the couch, hair pulled up into a sloppy knot at the top of her head and her clothes were covered with bleach stains. “Vera?”
“I'm okay,” she smiled nervously at him. “But we need to talk. I had a visitor today.” Deacon moved over to sit next to her as she explained The Council had given him a task. It was bad news, but not bad enough for Vera to seem so shaken and pale.
“We can deal with it, Vera. We knew that it was coming just not when. I wish you'd have just let me know instead of shutting down. It scared me and I couldn't leave, not if I want to keep my piece of shit job.”
“It's not the thing they want you to do that concerns me, I'll love you no matter what they make you do. It's the timing, it's problematic.”
Problematic was the understatement of the century. Numbness spread through Deacon as she told him he'd need to leave immediately and there was no guarantee on how long he'd be gone. “It's ten days until you change, Vera. Do you really think that I'm going to take off and leave you to do that alone?”
“I don't think that we have much of a choice in the matter. You're the one who told me that we need to do whatever it is The Strays asked when they asked. They're asking Deke, we can't just ignore that.”
“I am not going to leave you,” he shook his head. “Fuck that. No.”
“Deke, look at me.” She grabbed his hands and squeezed hard. “We don't have a choice and there's not a lot of time, we shouldn't waste it arguing about the inevitable.”
“You can't be alone,” Deacon protested. The idea made his blood run cold. He wouldn't leave her alone and scared.
“I won't be alone. I'll have Susan and Houdini with me, and you'll come back as soon as you're finished. If it's in time that will be great. If not, I'm going to be waiting for you. We've got to think positive, right?”
“Vera...” He wanted to argue with her more, to figure out a way where he didn't have to leave, but Deacon knew that she was right. If he refused the task, they'd be dead before the moon rose.
“Go and open the envelope. Find out what it is. I wanted to look but I didn't.”
“It could be...”
“It doesn't matter,” she cut him off. “It's what we have to do.” There was a determination in her eyes that Deacon had never seen before. Slowly he felt the wall between them lower. Her emotions hit him like a kick to the nuts. She was so scared, worried for him and herself, fearing the change, but even with all that the amount of love she was exuding was overwhelming.
“It's not right,” Deacon moved forward, cupped her face with his hands. “I will do whatever it is in time to get back here to you, I promise you that.”
“I know,” she shut her eyes to his touch. “Go get the envelope, Deke. I already packed things for you, put together some food. It's too cold to take your bike, you'll need to take the SUV. I think that it needs gas.”
“Vera, just stay calm.” He knew all too well that the fast way she was talking and her frantic tone meant that she was about to have an anxiety event; it was the last thing that either of them needed. “I'll get gas for the truck, it's all going to be alright.”
“Okay, I'm relaxing. I'm relaxed. Relaxed.” She still sounded tense but at least she was trying. Deacon walked over, picked up the envelope and read his task.
It wasn't too bad. It definitely could have been worse. He was pretty sure that he could handle it. He folded the envelope and shoved it into his back pocket. Deacon knew that he needed to leave, and soon, if he was going to make the long drive down to New Mexico.
He turned back to face Vera, found her standing only inches away from him. He hadn't even heard her approach. “I know that you've got to go, I thought maybe...”
Deacon didn't know what she thought and didn't give her a chance to tell him. He cut off her words with his mouth, hungry for every taste of her he could get. He let out a growl as her tongue slid against his, her teeth nipped down on his bottom lip.
There was no time for this, but he wasn't leaving without it, not when any chance existed that he wouldn't make it back. The task seemed simple, a straightforward kidnapping and murder, if that could ever be straightforward, but things could still go wrong. He could not come back. He could be too late. She could not survive.
Vera's hands were on his belt; she undid the leather with ease and tugged at the button of his jeans. “Easy, Baby, easy.” Deacon mumbled the words against her mouth even though the last thing that he wanted was to take time.
He wanted her, hard and fast with her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck. “Not easy, now.” At first Deacon wasn't sure he'd heard her right, he nearly asked if she were sure but then realized that she'd have never said it if she wasn't. There was no way he was making it to the bedroom, no way in hell. He spotted the couch and knew it wo
uld have to work, he wasn't going to throw her down on the floor. She deserved better than that.
Most likely she deserved better than him. It was a thought that haunted Deacon more often than he liked to admit. If she'd fallen for another man, any other man, she wouldn't have been attacked. She wouldn't be facing possible death or a life of changing with the moon.
“Earth to Deke,” she let out a nervous laugh. “We doing this or what?”
“I love you, Vera. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love someone.” It was important to him that she know it, that she understand the true depth of his words and his feelings.
“I know that, silly.”
“And you don't ever have any regrets? If you'd have found someone else, someone not me, none of this would be happening to you.” Deacon hadn't realized he even felt that way but then the words were out of his mouth, and they made perfect sense. It was all his fault what was happening to her. He'd been the change in her life that caused it all.
“Someone else? Come on, Deke. There was never a line of suitors beating down my door and I was fine with that. I was fine with the store and reading being my entire life, and then you happened, all this happened, and I realized I might have been content with my life, but I was really never happy. I'm happy now, with you, and I wouldn't change it, any of it. Well, maybe I'd change the possibly fatal scratches part, but that's just common sense.” She let out a nervous laugh. “I love you. I couldn't imagine life without you, so no, I don't have any regrets. Do you?”
“No, Baby,” he leaned in, brushed his lips against her. “I've got no regrets.”
“I've got no panties on,” she blurted out the words, blushed slightly. “I mean, oh screw it, I mean I've got no panties on and we don't have a lot of time and I need...”
Deacon knew what she needed and he was more than happy to give it to her. His hands slid down her body, gripped her ass and lifted. She was lighter now than the first time he'd picked her up; they'd need to work on that when all the craziness was over. There was a lot that they'd need to work on, but for now this was enough.
The Only Witness: The Center City Series: Book One Page 22
