Burning

by Carrillo, K. D.

  My fangs extended. I would have liked to sink them into his flesh, rip and tear until he was no longer obstructing me. Luckily for him, I had given up such simple and barbaric solutions after the French Revolution.

  “Leave,” I ordered in a growl.

  The terrified pilot tossed open the nearby emergency exit and barely waited for the slide to inflate before jumping from the plane. I examined the controls. In my long life, I had done a bit of everything, including flying a plane. Unfortunately, this plane was far from the World War I biplane I’d flown nearly a hundred years ago.

  It took great control to take my cell phone out of my pocket without smashing it. I dialed Marguerite’s number and waited impatiently for her to answer. When she did, I explained what was happening, albeit in a clipped tone.

  She responded in an equally irritated voice. “I’m making alternate travel arrangements as we speak. Grey, I am going to have to find another pilot and send the plane to you in the Midwest. I’m sorry, but we don’t have time to delay. You are going to have to take a commercial flight. Do you think you can avoid arousing suspicion?”

  “Marguerite, I’ve been alive for about a millennium and a half. My skin is white as bone and more than twice as hard. My eyes shimmer in the light like black diamonds. So no, I don’t exactly blend in.”

  “Do your best. Sometimes we have to improvise.” I could practically hear her gritting her teeth through the phone.

  Once on the commercial flight, I’d volunteered for an exit row seat. There were less people to avoid there. I sat next to the door and kept to myself. The only person seated next to me was a businessman. He was wearing a department-store suit and carrying a generic briefcase. He set up his laptop on his lap and began preparing a report. Busy and ambitious, he was completely inattentive to my presence.

  I hoped that I might escape notice, but when the flight attendant came around with drink service, he looked at me for the first time. His jaw dropped. The overhead light he had turned on shined off my skin like polished marble. Chloë had once told me that I looked like David in the stony flesh.

  My mouth quirked up at the corner, I felt the businessman’s growing unease, and I was tempted to order a Bloody Mary and really make him squirm. However, that would have called attention to myself, and I’d been ordered not to do that. I ordered red wine, which still seemed to make him uncomfortable, but his fear was setting off my hunting urges, and the aromatic red liquid helped to ease them. I used the wine like a smoker uses gum when they can’t get a fix.

  My seatmate grew increasingly uncomfortable. Perspiration started to bead at his hairline. I heard his heart rate increase exponentially. His breathing became shallower, and the smell of fear began to creep through his pores. My fangs started to extend, itching to puncture flesh.

  I looked the sweating, frightened lump next to me in the eye and said, “Relax. I’m nothing to be afraid of. You won’t even remember me after you get off the plane.”

  He blinked a couple of times and repeated robotically, “I won’t remember you. I’m not afraid.”

  Good, my influence worked—or as Anita liked to call it, “mind mojo.”

  My hunger had been stronger since my injuries last November. It took a long time to heal from the severe burns I’d received being stranded in the light. I needed a lot of blood, but I didn’t have to kill to get it. I could consume bagged blood; I just needed a lot more of it. Most vampires were more dangerous while they were healing from this type of injury. However, I was a very old vampire, and I was able to control my hunger.

  My desire for Chloë was a different matter entirely. I must not give in to my love and lust for her. She loved me—of that I was certain—but I wasn’t her destiny. Chloë was content to waste time with me—not that she would have described it that way. I never would have grown sick of her. There was no point where I would have wanted to get out.

  Chloë would be completely immortal as long as she lived to gain her full powers. So mortality wasn’t a problem. The issue was that she was alive and I was not—not in the same way. She was everything that was beautiful in this world, and that beauty belonged in the light, not hidden in the shadows. In a few years, she would feel the desire for children like most women do. I couldn’t give her a family. Eventually, her longing to have a family would overcome her feelings for me. She would leave me, and I would be destroyed.

  A stronger man would have enjoyed the time she had given me and remembered it fondly once she’d left. I had planned on doing just that, except that every day with her had pulled me in deeper. I’d had to let her go while I’d still been able to, before my love for her destroyed me, before my need to keep her destroyed her. Now my only fear was whether I could be near her without breaking or begging her to take me back.

  Anita

  I could feel Dean getting closer to the house. My skin felt hot, and my heart was pounding an uneven rhythm in my chest. I hadn’t said anything to Chloë or Dean, but I’d felt sick with him gone—like actually sick. Suddenly, I felt like I was trying to pull something towards myself. My body knew it was Dean. My muscles were releasing tension, my heart rate was slowing, and my body felt slightly cooler.

  “Are you okay? You look flushed,” Chloë commented, placing her wrist against my forehead.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I…uh…guess I overdid it with the cleaning,” I lied.

  Chloë cocked her head sideways, studying me.

  “What?” I asked annoyed.

  “You little liar,” she sang. “Dean is almost here and you are getting all hot and bothered thinking about it.” Then she winked at me.

  I huffed out a frustrated sigh. Then I started to giggle, and so did Chloë. “Yeah. God, Chlo, I’m so… You know. I hated that he was going to be gone for so long, but I hoped that this sexual tension would ease off a bit. At least as long as Dean insists on getting married first.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” Chloë began tentatively.

  I shrugged my answer.

  “Why don’t you want to marry Dean?”

  “I… Well, what I’m trying to say is… Shit, it does seem like I don’t want to marry him, doesn’t it?” Chloe nodded. “I do want to marry him, but at nineteen? What’s the rush?” I shrieked.

  “You could ask yourself what you’re waiting for,” Chloë responded. “I mean, if you aren’t sure he is the one,” she added.

  “Of course he is the one. I can’t imagine ever wanting anyone else,” I answered.

  “Then what is it?” she pressed.

  “I don’t know. I mean, what will people think if we get married now?” I freaked out.

  Chloë waved her hand. “They’ll probably think that you are knocked up. Who cares though? As you so astutely pointed out last year, we are pretty antisocial, and we don’t usually care what normals think anyway.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “Normals?”

  “I figure, if we keep calling people humans, they will realize that we aren’t one of them,” she explained.

  “I guess I don’t care what others think. Shouldn’t we graduate from college first and get jobs?”

  “Who says?” she countered.

  “What if I get pregnant?” I argued.

  “Yeah, ‘cause your plan is better. Everyone knows that babies come from marriage certificates,” she ridiculed.

  I rolled my eyes. “I know babies don’t come from marriage certificates.”

  “Really? You have been complaining for months because Dean won’t take the next step, but the reason that you won’t marry him is because you might get pregnant. In his scenario, if you did get pregnant, you would have a husband with you every step of the way. If you got your way, you could still get preggers, but you would have only your boyfriend to back you up.”

  I plopped down on our couch. “Gah! I’m an idiot,” I exclaimed.

  Chloë sat down next to me and played with my hair. “Hey, I do think that you should wait until you are completely sure. It obviously
is not the right time yet. I don’t think that it means that you aren’t in love with Dean. I do think that you need to explain to him what is going on though.”

  I nodded. She was right. It was time for Dean and me to talk about where we were heading. It was past time really. First though, I needed to consider where I wanted us to go.

  Did I want anyone else, even someday? No, that was an easy one. So what was holding me back? Chloë was right—the whole getting-pregnant thing is stupid. If I had really been worried, then I wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to advance our physical relationship. So what if I did marry Dean? Mmmm, mental pictures of a naked Dean raced through my brain. His sexy hazel eyes heated with desire. His wheat-blond hair mussed by my fingers and leonine, muscular body bared for my perusal. I wondered if I could keep him that way. Wow, my body felt hot again.

  Was I really holding back because I was afraid that people were going to talk about me? Am I really that shallow?

  “Yes. Yes you are,” Chloë answered my mental debate. She laughed. “Sorry. You think really loud.”

  Ah, witch telepathy. I keep forgetting about that. “I guess I have some thinking to do,” I said aloud.

  “Well you better get to it then, because they should be here any minute,” Chloë said and left the room.

  Dean

  “Do you have to go anywhere to pick up your stuff?” I asked Finn.

  “No. Chloë convinced me to leave it all here when I told her I needed to think about moving in,” he said and shrugged.

  I shook my head at him. I really wanted to knock some sense into him, but he was such a stubborn ass that I might just knock out the little sense he’s got.

  “I don’t get you, man. I understand that you are afraid to tying yourself to Chloë since witches don’t bond the way our races do. Believe me. I get that, but it isn’t going to stop me. I’m going to keep working until Anita marries me.”

  “Why? Why are you fighting so hard for someone who won’t be bound the way you will?” Finn asked.

  “Couples like us have never existed before. Who’s to say that they won’t be bound to us like we are to them? My dad said that the bond only works with the one we are destined for and that you can feel it before it happens,” I replied.

  Finn stared off in the distance, analyzing what I’d said.

  I continued. “Has there been anyone you have really been interested in since you met Chloë?”

  He sighed, and I knew that I had reached a touchy subject.

  “No. There hasn’t been a single female who has managed to keep my attention since the moment I looked into her big brown eyes. When we shook hands, I felt like I had grabbed a live wire, but it was a good feeling. I don’t know why I freaked out and pushed her away. It’s not like she fought me about it though. She practically ran to be with the dead guy.”

  “She really liked you, Finn, and then you treated her like she had the plague when you found out what you are. Even still, she waited around for you for a week. That was more than you deserved since you weren’t officially dating then. Grey came along and showered her with attention. She didn’t betray you,” I argued.

  “I know that. But come on, Dean. She loved the guy. I could see that. If we were destined, if we were supposed to be bound for life, how could she fall for someone else?”

  “She’s a witch. They don’t respond the way we do. However, I don’t think that she was in love with him. She loved him, sure, but I don’t think that she ever stopped thinking about you. As far as being bound together… Well, there is a reason that I have been holding out on Anita, because I’m not the only one affected by it. I want her to be sure that she wants to be with me forever. I want her to decide. That way, when the magic or biology or whatever you want to call it kicks in, she doesn’t blame me for taking away her choices.”

  “Are you sure that sex will impact them the same way it will us?” he asked.

  “Yeah. My aunt is a scientist, and she has done a lot of research about this. It all has to do with pheromones and magic, but basically, our bodies change each others’ until we are only compatible with each other. If one of us were to die before we fully matured, the other might die too.”

  I growled. I couldn’t help it. We were so close but still too far from the new house.

  “Getting antsy?” Finn teased. Finn had started absentmindedly rubbing his chest.

  “I can’t wait to see her. I can’t believe I let you talk me into an entire month away from her. It feels like my skin is vibrating and my blood is burning through my veins,” I replied.

  Finn’s unnaturally blue eyes opened wide. He chuckled once without humor. “Is that why I feel like this?” I raised an eyebrow in question. “You know, like my skin is too tight and my heart can’t beat under the strain,” he continued.

  “Yeah. Apparently, not being fully bonded to your mate hurts. I hope Anita doesn’t take too much longer to make up her mind. Not that it will make a difference, because I’ll never want anyone else anyway.”

  “Even if she decides that this is too much for her and wants to date someone else?” Finn asked, stunned.

  “Even if. Look, she’s all I want, and she’s worth the risk. Isn’t Chloë?” I asked him even though the answer was obvious.

  “Yeah, she’s worth it,” he mumbled.

  “Well then I guess you’ve decided to prove to her that you’re serious,” I replied.

  I turned down a country road, passed by a hay field, and drove down a long, private gravel drive. I pulled up in front of a large, restored two-story farmhouse. It was light yellow with brown shudders and a beautiful carved oak door.

  “I thought Chloë said she bought a ‘cute, little old farmhouse’?” I commented.

  Finn laughed. “You saw the Council’s palace in France. To Chloë this is little.”

  The front door flew open and suddenly Anita was standing on the top step. “I think you were missed,” Finn observed. His mouth turned down a little until Chloë walked out and stood next to Anita. She smiled slightly, and he smiled in return.

  It seemed we were back to where we started—he four of us hanging out, the two of them awkwardly trying to figure out what they were to each other while I waited for Anita to make up her mind.

  Chapter 2

  Baby Steps

  Anita

  The distinctive rumble of Dean’s large truck filtered through the tree-lined gravel driveway. I wanted our relationship to move forward; our one-year anniversary was rapidly approaching, after all. As it stood, we were at an impasse. Dean was refusing to take our physical relationship to the next level, and I still hadn’t agreed to marry him. Could I get married at nineteen or twenty, with my birthday less than six months away?

  I shuddered thinking about satin and tulle and everything covered in white. But that was just the wedding—could I be married? Hmm… Married to Dean, open access to his hot, muscular body, waking up in his arms, forever. Well that didn’t sound so bad. Okay, so I was thinking about it like Chloë had said, and the thought was growing on me. What could I do to try on the idea a bit more?

  In September, Dean and I would have been together for a year. We had been together now for eleven months, and I still hadn’t introduced him to my mother. I mostly tried to keep my human family away from my supernatural life. My mother knew that my father was special, but she did not know that he was an immortal wizard. I was afraid to shatter her illusions of their life together, but I didn’t have to lump Dean into that same category. I needed to see how he fit into my old life, into that part of me, and then I could decide.

  The giant silver beast turned into view, and there he was again. I stood on the top step, waiting for him to park. I vibrated with the desire to run down to him, but I forced myself to stand and wait. They pulled up, and Chloë came out to stand next to me. I knew that she wanted to see Finn. They were pulled to each other, but they were both stubborn mules and fought against their feelings.

  Dean jumped out of the c
ab of his truck and stalked toward me. I blazed off the porch and launched myself into his arms. He buried his face in my hair and took a deep breath.

  “I’m never leaving you like that again,” he muttered hoarsely.

  “Sounds good to me,” I replied. “Stay with me tonight,” I requested.

  “Anita…” he said in frustration.

  “Just to sleep, Dean. We’ve spent enough time apart. I don’t want to spend the night in different beds as well,” I implored.

  His hazel eyes searched my face, and his luscious, full lips smirked into a half smile. “Just to sleep then,” he agreed. He ran his hands through my long honey-brown hair. “Have you given any thought into marrying me?”

  The late afternoon sun shone in his thick dark golden-blond hair. The shadows accentuated the strong muscles in his jaw and his cut biceps. I’d definitely been thinking about being with him.

  “I can smell the pheromones pouring out of your skin. I can’t hold myself back forever, Anita. I need you to be mine, completely and soon.” He gently caressed my face and slid his palm around my neck. “I want it to be your decision, but my control is growing thin. If you start wearing your tiny shorts and low-cut tops, I’m going to take what you are offering and I won’t ask you to marry me anymore. You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours, but I want you to choose it first.”

  I felt a purr trying to break free of my chest, which was odd since he was the cat, not me. He cocked his head sideways, sensing the vibration that I was trying to contain. I rubbed my head against him before I arrested complete control of myself.

  “You’re already bonding to me,” he whispered huskily.

  “Are you turning me into a cat?” I choked out. How big of a freak was I going to be? I was already unique in the supernatural world, which was really saying something. I was the only half-witch/half-vampire, and now I was becoming part cat?

  “No, you aren’t becoming a shifter. You are just in tune with me. It is like picking up each other’s mannerisms. It means the bond has started. Once it does, it will demand we complete it. Call it magic, biology, what have you, but we will be driven to mate and cement the link to each other forever,” he answered.