by Kiki Howell
He tugged on her hands, and she moved with only a hint of resistance as he walked them under the water. The warm mass of drops moved over him, doing nothing to relax him as his body, his mind, his demon poised to take her. A moment of fear made him hesitate. The beast slithering inside him, infecting him, felt unstable. He'd no idea its reaction to making love to the woman he loved rather than having savage sex with a stranger. Would it call for the coven again, or just enjoy? Would it tempt him into losing his mind, and making that one final shift no man could return from?
You won't hurt her, he growled inside his head, as he watched her head roll back with a moan. She'd relented, and he found himself incapable of holding back, trying to focus on the lust rather than the love. He did, however, gather up his last ounce of restraint, wanting to savor her body, not just take it. He'd make fierce love to her on his bed. Hope it would appease the savage beast. But first, he'd worship her, taste her here under the water.
His best laid plans, of course, went awry in seconds as he fought for dominance, in a way to appease the demon, but hoped she'd see as foreplay. As he grabbed her wrists, moved to push her against the wall again, trap her with his body, she fought back, hands on his chest, using her entire body to try to move his. No match for him, she used shock tactics, jumping up and wrapping her thighs, small and strong, around his waist. His erection bumped her ass, and he found himself done for.
Carrying her to his bed, he threw her down, plunged in to her warm, wet center. She gasped and moaned, welcomed him instead of fighting him, her thighs wrapped around him so tightly he could feel her feet on his ass. They moved together as if made for each other, one heart, one soul. He closed his eyes when they flashed red, when his demon got some idea, some inkling of taking the woman. While Ciaran understood the intention, he couldn't figure out the means. Nor did he continue to think on it as he felt her tremble beneath him, her arching more dramatic, her breathing more pronounced.
She came with her whole body. He remembered it well. He wanted to see the pleasure on her face, her heavy lids, her open mouth, but he dared not open his eyes. Lust. Love. They merged together and his demon grew confused. Sadistic rage. Evil glee. The electricity of the change came swift, fierce. Before his creature emerged, he pushed away from her hard enough to hear the breath whoosh from her lungs. He couldn't look. He couldn't talk. He stepped back, disappearing from the room, locking himself in the bathroom as the change came.
Chapter Four
She grabbed her dress from where she'd hung it over a chair in his room when changing into the suit before. Each nerve ending still alive, recalling each touch, wanting more, she gave herself a tongue lashing, started a good, never ending lecture as she ripped the dress over her head. For spite, as she shook, she kept her fear in check.
Whatever reason he'd pushed her away, she wouldn't stick around to argue. He'd locked himself away from her again. So, she grabbed at her clothes, and refocused on something else. A new lecture about how she would walk out of his home without crying, and never look back, she pushed to the forefront of her mind. She'd allowed this to happen. Allowed herself to be taken, to be ravaged by his mouth and hands. For what? To increase the heartache later, making the memory of being with him fresh, updated? Will it really matter? Could anything make the loss of him, again, worse or better? That is what had made her stay, kept her pliant to his every whim, made her take all she could from his muscle bound body, indulge in every whim of such a dominant lover.
He knew how to please a woman, how to be rough yet gentle, to go slow, to torture, in fact, until she had begged for release with him even all those years ago, and he'd only laughed, rather evilly, in fact, before using his tongue between her folds in ways that brought her up to the precipice and over the edge, again and again until she had begged him for mercy. And what had that mercy been? He'd took her hard, even back then, first from behind, then flipping her over, until she let him pound into her, wanting it, all of him. They'd once been ambitious lovers. Her body, wanting more of him, remembered it so clearly now. The memories came in flashes. This time, what they'd managed was quick lust, one orgasm, hers, and him leaving. She knew why, and pushed the thought back. Tonight, she'd closed her eyes tight after the first flash of iridescent red blazed through his.
Closing her eyes again, swaying as she attempted to put a foot into her panties, she fell against the wall. Pressing her fingers against it, she gave herself over to the memories of them together. She needed them. Obviously more than life, as who knew what raged on the other side of that bathroom door. Beast. Or. Man. Maybe a death wish of sorts formed, and she let a memory erase the desperation, the loss.
In her mind, she witnessed the way she'd risen to climax one special night, hidden away in his room. She'd shattered all around him as she had tonight. Only tonight, it all had felt so different, so beyond anything she'd experienced before. He had magic after all. She knew this fact going in. Still, she'd taken her chances, continued on like a woman starved, without thinking through the possible consequences. And, just when she thought it couldn't get any better, that she could never come harder or longer, he'd changed, just like that.
Crying out, her body aching, her skin tingling for him, she went back again to another flash of memory. He'd rubbed his hands gently down her body, from neck to thighs, then pulled her into a breath robbing hug before he took her slow, lovingly, each touch putting her on the verge of tears and climax, which then came with slow build ups and powerfully slow crescendos.
Him, the other night at her party, interrupted her revelries of the time they'd spent together so long ago. He'd showed the threat of tears in his own eyes at one point, when she'd pushed away from him then, yet something about him looked like he was about to get ill because of it.
In the now, she looked away from the door, a ridiculous thing to do since he wasn't there, not wanting him to see her own burn of tears. She loved this man with all of her being, and yet all she had to show for a few hours together was fading red marks on her wrists where he'd held her down, and an ache still in her tightening gut that couldn't be subdued.
'I'm going to find a way for us to be together. I promise.' He'd said years ago, a lifetime ago, when they'd snuck to say goodbye before she shipped off for college.
She remembered his face buried in her hair, his breath warm on her shoulder.
'Don't make promises you can't keep,' she'd managed, her voice cracking, unable to hold back the tears once she gave voice to her tragic thoughts.
'No. I will. I swear it...'
Her memory was interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening.
As he stepped into the room, a naked man, he stated, coldly, "It had been my mission before, to find a way out of my coven, to release my... uh, magick, then to find you and take you away with me. I've been hiding money away so I can take us far away from here, make us disappear, together. I've even secured a few places for us to hide away together. And, now, after tonight, I want that even more if possible. I will make it happen for us."
"It's a nice dream."
"It's not going to just be a dream," he yelled, the first time she could remember him ever raising his voice to her in such a way, as he shook her, then crushed her lips with his, making her tears flow with abandon.
"I have to go," she said, her hands in fists at his back, afraid to touch him, desperate to get out of his arms, away from him, lest she talk herself into staying, risking whatever was going on with him, or worse, another attack she just might not survive.
He may be head of the coven, but she didn't think he could single handedly defeat it. She was sure each and every member had vowed to his father to do whatever it took to keep him in it, and they saw her as a threat to that, just like his father had before.
How did I get here again? She thought as she pulled from him, and moved away, snatching up her shoes and retreating out of the room. She moved faster with each step, forcing herself from him, calling it life or death just to make h
erself keep moving. She heard him following, matching her step for step no matter her pace. I won't turn back. I won't kiss him again. Run to your car, she told herself as she flung open the door.
What she faced on the other side, though, terrified her to the point that it didn't even manage to register fully. Her mouth fell open. Her throat strained. Yet, no scream escaped her as the images before her reached her brain. Her brain denied, reacted, rationalized, and slowly came to acceptance, but in the split seconds that happened, something pushed her. Her hands grappled for anything to stop her fall. What pushed her had come from behind first, but as it rounded her, it had touched her shoulder in front and pushed her backward. Her right hand hit hard against the door frame, as her left flailed for the ground.
By the time she hit, wrist screaming at the jar and bend process, her hip hit hard wood. With a big breath forcibly released, she grabbed the door frame and pulled herself up to sitting again. Some self-preservation instinct had her looking out that door as the descriptions she'd heard years ago of these terrible beasts took on reality right before her very eyes.
She sat there, one hand clutched around her stomach, the other making imprints into the wood. She couldn't scream, couldn't blink, couldn't even breathe until her body forced her to with a rush of burning air. Her body shivered from head to toe as her vision began to blur. She refused to pass out.
She looked around her fast enough to get whiplash; Ciaran was nowhere to be seen. She figured he'd pushed her, then turned into one of them. He had to be the one now circled by all of the others. Something akin to a growl mixed with a groan and a devilish shriek began to emanate from them all, she guessed, as the hideous sound unlike anything she'd ever heard hit her ears.
At one point, they moved in a strange, circular dance around each other, though there was nothing graceful about how these vile things moved. The noise merged into a repulsive, beastly song, growing so loud her hands flew to cover her ears, signaling again, stronger, the pain of her injuries. She blinked, several times finally, her brain still adjusting to the reality before her. None of these things fought. The beasts, because she had no good word for them, just moved around each other, making their heinous noises while she merely gasped for air.
Years ago, when she'd been far from home, on another continent, in fact, her mother had come for a visit to her school. Ciaran's dad's dime, of course, with claims of seeing her daughter's school, as if they were all normal. At first, she'd assumed her mother there to make sure she was okay, to help her nurse her broken heart over the loss of Ciaran. What had actually happened had been hours of her mother's frantic talking matched with Allanah's arguments of disbelief as her mother told her about Ciaran and his family legacy. Yes, she'd told her of the magick, the evil, black magick the family had used for over a century, starting back in Ireland. They'd used the ancient, satanic forms of rituals to call demons, to trap them, and then force them do their bidding. Their wishes had been to build a whiskey empire at the time. So, the summoning of hellish beings became a means of getting them whatever their horrid hearts desired.
At some point in time, one of these men had gone further, cursed the entire family, so that into each generation, a demon could be ritually forced into a man in the coven, and work to transform them into a beast like no other. It had become a means of ensuring loyalty. The coven who put the beast in could also control it, if need be. When a man could at any time lose his humanity to the demon inside, to the beast he turned into, he stayed loyal; he did the coven's bidding no matter what they asked.
Still, having heard all the explanations, all the history, all the descriptions even of these beasts, what she had conjured in her mind proved nothing, nothing at all, to seeing them up close and personal. In real life, in this moment, these creatures stood before her having some kind of beastly argument she could only surmise, some sort of reprimand for Ciaran having her still at his house after their first scare tactics tonight.
The one that had to be Ciaran looked her way. So, she kept her eyes on him. In this form, she'd no idea if the man beneath would be able to fight, to save her, against the others, or even protect her against his own beast. While her body tightened up even more, and every nerve ending screamed to run, she sat there frozen, maybe in fear, but also in amazement. Besides, some shred of reason in her mind told her there would be no way to escape these things. Almost twice the size of a man, she couldn't imagine how fast they could move, or what their strength to destroy anything in their path could be. Surely no door in this house could hold them back.
Regardless, the crimson eyes staring at her, the ones that seemed to burn with actual flames right out of its head, had not left hers. The noises continued, but they had stopped moving around. At this point, she figured it all for show as every set of twelve eyes, red, bright, hideous, looked at her now, surely wondering why she didn't scream, why she didn't run, why she didn't act at all like any other woman would in such a predicament. Swoon maybe? Instead, her fear at the reality of the sight had turned into an odd fascination. After all of these years, getting to see this thing, this event, this transformation that she could only imagine, and most of the time even then still have trouble believing.
She didn't scare easy. She had means to take care of herself, and, if they had wanted to kill her, they would have by now. While her heart still beat a hundred miles an hour, and her breaths still came in burning gasps and pants, she sat there, staring back at these otherworldly creations.
Her mother had seen them. Scare tactics at some point to keep her loyal as well. She had not been wrong about the size, the hair, the build. Not a detail had she spared or gotten wrong. Guess seeing one seared the memory into one's brain. She'd seen some weird shit in her days, but this, well, this beat all. This thing had killer abs under its dark skin that looked leathery and washed with dark browns and black, maybe even burnt. She couldn't tell in the dark of night with the shadows of the house lights. The odd shape of the face, the huge mouth, proved vile yet ferocious. Yet, beyond all of that, the claws and the fangs, the long, electrified hair had her most fascinated.
The mouth hung open, as if it didn't close. Teeth, all lengths, but all sharp, all going different directions as if they didn't actually fit in the mouth, stood out, stained like the thing had smoked cigarettes every minute of every day. Unless, again, the distance and shadow from where she sat played tricks on her eyes. The hair, though, coming from the backs of the limbs, and all over the back of the torso, was so long, maybe ten or twelve inches. Matted and ratted, the crackles of light she could see like the ones caused by static electricity in the dark, kept it in motion. While the face and upper chest were also hairy, the hair there seemed short, like any other animal's would be. The bottom halves of the limbs, from say elbow to wrists, or knees to ankles, had no hair at all, but seemed to be mere bones covered with the same leathery skin as the abs.
Of course, men as powerful, so probably as vain as these, would give their creatures six packs, she thought. She snorted, some sort of unladylike laugh of disgust, catching even her off guard as it did her audience. They seemed to have tired of it all and left. Save for one. Her one.
All at once, the beast seemed to dissolve into thin air. Slowly, the leathery skin, the fur, it melted away save a few crackles of electricity or something, until all that was left just a few feet from her was Ciaran, naked, his shoulders slumped. Yet, looking at her, he stood upright and walked slowly toward her as she made her way to standing. Every muscle, frozen for a time after falling, protested this idea.
As he walked past her, into the house, he simply growled under his breath, "Guess you knew that, too."
"Yes, my mother told me," she said to his back.
"When?" he semi-yelled, catching himself mid-word to bring down the volume building.
"When I went away. My mother came to visit."
"To check on you. Yes, I remember. I was assured she had gone to see how you were. I'd been worried about you, in a strange place,
far from everyone you knew. I knew what it was like, how horrible it was, to be alone without you, and I was still in a place I knew. So, she told you not just about the magick, but about the demons, and the beasts they create. You told me she only told you about the magick."
"Well, magick, beast, all the same thing, right? The demons are there, thanks to spells. You didn't ask me specifically."
"What the hell was I supposed to say? Hey, you know I turn into a demonic beast? Stop playing games, Allanah. What the hell? Is this some sort of game? Revenge on me?"
"What? No. I just figured you would be better off not knowing what I know, not wondering what it made me feel about you, because, honestly, I'd had time to come to some sort of terms with it. I didn't think we would ever see each other again. But, we did, and then after the party, and even tonight, I knew it couldn't last, even if I came here under the hope that it could. It couldn't. They will obviously do anything to scare me away."
"And, did they scare you away? I mean, with their actions? You know what I'm asking."
"They will never let you be with me, Ciaran. As before, it doesn't matter what we want."
"It can. Give me time. Let me figure out a way."
"That's a nice dream, as I said, but there is no way. You haven't figured it out yet, in over a decade. So, why continue to suffer with the hope of it? Face the reality given to us and move on. It's our only choice. I'm getting on a plane tomorrow. While this has been so nice, well, had nice moments in between the interruptions, it is all we are to have. Goodbye, Ciaran. Forgive me for not kissing you goodbye in the state you are in."
She turned to the door, then. It took everything in her to be strong, to just turn and leave.
"Wait," he bellowed. "Is it seeing the beast, or something else you are still not telling me, that is making you walk away?"
"There has to be something else beyond all of this? They will kill me, or both of us. They won't stop, at anything, I fear, to keep us apart. Let's just make everyone's life easy and stay apart."
