Delicate Thorns

by Miranda Hardy

  “Come in,” he says and waves an arm for me to enter.

  His place is decorated like a grandparent’s place should be, with pictures of extended family members adorning the walls. A navy blue couch sits atop gray carpeting in the middle of the room, dividing the kitchen from the living space. A large rug divides the empty space between the TV and couch. I smirk at the thought of a grandmother saying she needed the rug to keep the carpet clean.

  “Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? I have beer, wine, water, and milk.”

  “I’m okay right now, thanks,” I say. Then I think he probably wants something and I don’t want to seem like an immediate drag. “You know, actually I’ll have a glass of wine, red if you have it.”

  “Perfect choice.”

  I take a seat on the far end of the couch, next to the side table. A documentary on space plays on the muted TV. Dillan hands me a glass of wine and sits a couple feet away from me. He turns toward me and rests his knee on the couch.

  “So, what did you do today?”

  “Not much.” Got rid of one more asshole from this world. “How was your day?”

  “Awesome. I got to work with two new kids today and they’re incredible.”

  “That’s really great.”

  “Well, pizza will be here in about a half hour and we can download whatever movie you want to watch, funny, thriller, horror….”

  “I’m up for anything.”

  “Go ahead, put all the pressure on me.” He laughs, but easily accepts the responsibility of choosing. “I did have a movie in mind.”

  “Let me guess, a surfer movie.”

  He holds up his glass. “Touché.”

  We sit in silence for a few minutes, each sipping our glass of wine. “How do you like the wine?”

  It’s not until he says something that I realize I don’t feel sick from it. “It’s very good.”

  “It’s a cabernet from California.”

  “Are you a wine connoisseur or something?”

  He laughs again, and I love the noise it makes. “I would definitely have to say, or something. My parents are the wine connoisseurs.” He shrugs. “I just paid attention sometimes.”

  “I’m guessing you’re into the space, astronaut thing.” I point to the quieted TV.

  “Yes, I will admit, this is one of my favorite stations, Discovery, the other being The History Channel. I’m a geek—what can I say?” He combs his fingers through his hair and looks at the TV for a few short beats.

  Dillan’s confidence to be so honest about who he is and what he wants is not only rare, but a complete turn-on. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off him. He takes a sip of wine and looks at me. When our eyes lock, I have the sudden urge to kiss him but hold back, neglecting my feelings and urges. He’d probably kick me out of his apartment. Besides, I don’t know what has gotten into me.

  “More wine?” he asks in a low, sultry voice while still staring at me.

  “That’d be great.”

  I realize that the wine affects me in a way I never thought about. Prickles of heat tickle the base of my neck, and I feel my body begin to relax for the first time in what seems like forever.

  He refills our glasses and as he hands mine back to me, there’s a knock at the door.

  “Pizza’s here.”

  With the pizza in hand, Dillan stands in front of me, and asks, “You up for a picnic?”

  “Sure.”

  “Follow me. Oh, will you get my wine from the counter and grab that blanket from the back of the couch.”

  I follow him out through the patio and toward the ocean. The fresh air feels familiar and comforting, and all over again, I’m instantly grateful for him.

  He stops. “How about here?”

  “Perfect.”

  Balancing the glasses of wine on the pizza box Dillan holds, I toss out the blanket, and take the glasses back. We sit and he opens up the pizza.

  “I got half cheese and half pepperoni. I figured it was a safe bet, since I didn’t ask you what kind you liked.”

  “I’ll take a slice of cheese.” Until now, I never thought about actually eating tonight, in front of him. And thoughts of the meat from the ship seep into my head. Reluctantly, I take a small bite. I figure if I can eat half, that’ll be enough.

  He picks up a piece of pepperoni and takes a bite. “I have to tell you, this is my favorite dinner: wine and pizza.”

  “Ah, is that an admission?”

  “Yes.” He takes a sip of wine, looks out to the ocean and then to me. His face is serious and full of interest. “Do you mind if I make another admission?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever felt the need to know someone, as I do with you.”

  I look away from him. “I’m really not all that interesting.”

  “On the contrary, Miss Jasmine, I bet you have secrets and admissions of your own.”

  Although his words could not be truer, they do not frighten me, nor do they send me racing away at a blurring speed. When Dillan speaks them, it feels more like he’s giving me permission to confide my truths, to revel in this man’s presence and be rid of everything burdening me; everything that has become of what and who I am now. A monster. But he would for sure run, and being the selfish monster that I am I don’t want him to go. I need him right now.

  He places his hand on my thigh. “Hey, I don’t need to know anything tonight. Just tell me that this is what you want right now, to be here with me.”

  This time, I do look at him and I look directly into his eyes. I nod slightly. “Yes, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

  He leans toward me and when our lips touch, I can’t hold back. His soft lips explore mine. I don’t remember the last kiss I had, but if it was anywhere close to this, I’m positive it would be a memory I’d be incapable of forgetting. I lean into him and his hand tangles in my hair as he deepens the kiss.

  The waves crash onto the beach, no more than five feet away, and we’re showered with a cool mist of sea spray. In only a few seconds, a thousand feelings flood through me and I push all but one away: how this exact moment feels with Dillan.

  He breaks the kiss. I open my eyes at the pause and meet his gaze. He easily guides me onto my back on the blanket. He lays down next me and touches my face, sliding his finger from the top of my cheek to the corner of my mouth. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers and pushes the few strands of hair from my face.

  His arm laces around my waist. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his body down to mine.

  In the moonlight, I can see his truthful words come alive in his eyes. I cup the side of his face. “Kiss me again.”

  He does, and nothing can penetrate this moment. Not an appetite for blood, the horrific memories of the island, or even the haunting face of a man that I may or may have never known.

  The edge of the surf breaches the dry sand under our feet. His hand moves to reveal the space between my skirt and tank top. Warm fingers gently glide over the exposed skin of my stomach. He makes circling motions around my center and down my sides, creating a piece of invisible abstract art that sets parts of me on fire. A teasing and wicked design that I can only imagine, but ache for more of.

  Higher and higher, the ocean rises. But we make no effort to move as the moon’s pull on the tide begins to swathe our bodies, melding us into the sea. As smooth and tender as Dillan’s touch, each wave, like a million tiny fingers, caresses the inside of my bare thighs. Then just as torturous, they float back out to sea leaving salted bubbles popping on my naked skin.

  Dillan pulls away and looks down at me. His warm, wine-sweetened breath fills my senses. “Do you want to go back to my place?”

  “Yes.” A millisecond after I speak that one word, I know I’ll regret everything that comes after this moment. But, I don’t care. My body screams at me to set it free into the arms of ecstasy.

  And so I do.
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br />   The clock barely has time to advance its long outstretched hand to the next minute before our clothes are off and our bodies are united. In our sacrifice of seconds, minutes, and moments of time, we offer ourselves in raw and ravenous desire as our hands and mouths explore each other.

  The tips of my fingers press into his back and his back arches, deepening his thrusts, pushing me into what feels like another dimension of bliss.

  And like the crashing waves, our bodies shatter into a frenzy of a million pieces. Cravings, lusts, furies, and wraths of selfless thirst of desires twist and collide as we fall into the immeasurable place of euphoria.

  I can’t imagine that I have ever felt so alive, infinite, and mortal. But then ever so slowly, each individual fragment fuses back together and I am once again whole, and monstrous.

  ***

  When I wake, the sun greets the edge of bed. Its blazing rays of fire shine through the window and panic rages in my chest. I bolt up, scaring Dillan. He lies on his stomach and he lifts his head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to go.”

  “Okay, let me put on some shorts and I’ll walk you home.”

  “That’s okay, I’m just right there.” I throw out my arm in the direction of the apartment.

  “I insist, it wouldn’t be right,” he says, and already he’s up and pulling up his shorts.

  I get dressed and slide my feet into the flip-flops.

  “Do you want to get some coffee or something?”

  “I really can’t.”

  We walk out into the hall, the sun’s rays stream across the floor through the window at the end of the corridor, ending just at the entrance to the apartment.

  Dillan leans in and kisses me. I open the door and praise the instant darkness.

  “You still have the hurricane shutters up? You want help taking them down? I can do it when I get home today.”

  I place my hand over his chest and say, “No, that’s okay.”

  He shrugs in confusion, but accepts my answer without pushing further.

  “I’ll see you later,” I say, kiss him goodbye and close the door behind me.

  Chapter 10

  My secret becomes harder and harder to hide from Dillan. The look on his face when he saw the shutters still latched across the windows speaks volumes…he knows something’s different about me.

  Although I slept well through the day, my energy feels depleted, and my senses dulled. Our “relations” took their toll on my body, but I’m not complaining one little bit. It was totally worth it…to feel special in Dillan’s arms cleared my mind of all that I’ve been through the last several months. For a moment, I felt utterly human.

  The half-moon lingers on the edge of the horizon, and I leave before Dillan decides to pay a visit. The need to feed builds within me, and there’s only one place I know where to find my victims.

  Escaping through the back of the apartment and the screened in porch, I race down the street and across the bridge and then turn left. It still amazes me how in a matter of a mile, we have two entirely different cultural areas; one full of yuppies and one full of criminals.

  Once I make it to the general area, I notice a different sort of activity on the streets tonight. There are several cop cars patrolling the intersection. One of them steps out and shoos the prostitutes away from their usual corners. It makes me wonder if my current killing spree has attracted them to the area, but that makes no sense, since it’s normally crime-ridden anyway.

  I cut through the back alleys and race through them at a faster pace than normal, staying in the shadows. Directly across the street, in another alley between two buildings, I spot my victim. He finishes a drug deal, and checks around the corner of the building to see if the cops are near.

  Once his customer leaves, I dash across the empty street so fast and grab him, pulling him deeper into the alley. Before he has time to scream, I constrict his breathing, and sink my teeth in. His tainted blood flows down my throat. His drug of choice races through his veins, mixed with his blood.

  Although I’m no expert on drugs, the strange effect sends a tingle through me, and I’m tempted to stop and ask him what he took, but once the feeding starts…it’s impossible to stop until the last drop drains from his lifeless body.

  Halfway through the feeding, when his heart begins to slow, my mind signals me that someone’s near. It’s not a human, it’s… like me. My senses heighten to the highest peak, and it’s like a warning bell ringing through my head, just like the bell ringing in the halls of a high school.

  The drug dealer moans one last time before he passes out from blood loss. The stranger approaches, getting closer and closer. I can feel his eyes on me, but I can’t see him, yet.

  Yes, it’s definitely a male. His masculine scent smells like an old musk from long along. He doesn’t hide his footfalls in the alley as he gets closer.

  Dealer’s heartbeat stops, and the blood flow ceases. I drop the body and turn to meet the witness to my fresh kill.

  He smiles at me, and grabs me too quickly. I don’t have time to even address him. It’s him, the familiar face from my dreams, from my visions, and from the sighting the other night.

  He pulls me close to him, where my ear is nearest to his mouth. “You were a mistake. You shouldn’t be here.”

  With the new blood coursing through me, and my heightened senses, I try to push him away from me, but he doesn’t budge. He laughs, and lifts me over his shoulder like a bag of rice, and swiftly runs through the alley.

  He moves so fast, the wind whips my face, and the sensation feels like I’m on top of a fast moving vehicle.

  One of his arms holds on to me so tightly that I can’t even move an inch. “What are you doing?” I ask. “Let me go, damn it!”

  Silence greets me as he continues to run through the alleyways. We must have gone a mile in under 30 seconds. He reaches a corner and moves toward a parked vehicle, and then flings me into the driver’s seat of a black sedan. He scoots in after me, still clutching my arm so I can’t escape out of the passenger door.

  He starts the car and races down the street. I stare at his face, watching him look forward. Although I’ve seen glimpses of him, I figure the memories will surface, but nothing does. He’s just that familiar face that haunts me.

  “Who are you?” I ask.

  He turns another corner sharply and heads toward the tall buildings in the center of town.

  “At least tell me where we’re going,” I demand.

  Nothing.

  We sit in silence, and I turn my attention to the passing buildings, trying to memorize the roads we’ve taken so I can find my way back. Something tells me that leaving him will not be an easy task, especially since his grip on me hasn’t loosened one tiny bit.

  The roads are pretty easy to understand and I can head in a general direction, northeast, to get back to my place…well, my temporary place. Does this guy know where I am staying? Does he know about Dillan? Would he harm Dillan? There’s no doubt in my mind he’s capable of doing so, but the fact that he found me in my hunting ground lets me know he didn’t know where I was sleeping during the day, otherwise he would have been there when I woke.

  As I was hunting my filthy prey, he was hunting for me.

  He rolls down his window as he turns into a parking garage that’s joined to another rather large apartment building. Once he punches in the code, the gate rises and he speeds into the dimly lit space. He spirals upward one turn and parks in the first numbered spot—3601.

  He gets out of the car and starts to pull me out the driver’s side, but I grab the side of the car and it yanks him back in a bit.

  “You think I won’t give you trouble? What makes you think I won’t scream and cause a scene?” I ask defiantly.

  “I’m assuming you’ll come with me just for the simple fact that I know you want answers, and I’m afraid I’m the only one that can give them to you,”
he says with a smirk.

  Letting go of the car door handle, I scoot across and get out with him. He loosens his grip on my arm and pushes me ahead of him, like he’s afraid I’ll dash away from him if he takes his eyes off me for a second.

  After his last comment, I have no desire to leave now. Curiosity has gripped me, and I do want answers, and for some reason, I know he’s telling the truth. He may be the only one with the answers I seek. He might know who I am.

  ***

  Of course, his apartment is at the very top of the building, and happens to be the only apartment on the entire floor. He enters a code in order to allow access to the elevator.

  A pale, off-white color covers the outside walls, and continues into the apartment. The lighting in the apartment is dim. Dark tinted windows outline the huge space. His sparse furniture consists of a black leather couch, and a matching loveseat. No pictures hang on the walls. But, there are a few old looking relics scattered on end tables, and on the top of a shelf right below a large flat-screen television.

  “Remarkable,” he says from behind me.

  “What?” I ask. “Doesn’t matter. You owe me answers.”

  “How did you get here?” His face is full of bewilderment and curiosity. “I mean really, how’d you do it?”

  “Wait a second, I came here for answers. I don’t even know your name, and why is your face so damn familiar? It’s been haunting me since I first woke on the island.” A million questions crowd my head, and I can’t ask them quickly enough. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I thought that would be obvious to you. I’m stronger, I’m faster, and you know my face. So, who do you think I am?” He answers me with a riddled question. I hate that, but he’s right. It should be obvious to me.

  And then, as reckless and as powerful as when lightning strikes, his face, voice, smell, all collide in my head. “You’re my maker.” I mutter the foreign truth to myself. “You made me into this beast, this killer who thirsts only for blood,” I say louder, with seething anger and hatred embracing every word.