Taming the Night (Creatures of the Night Book 1)

by Tisha Wilson

  He’d given her an IV to get her started but the blood was old and stale and made her vomit for days afterwards. He’d pumped her full of the stuff so that when she actually did feed again she wouldn’t go crazy, which was what had happened this morning. Jerry’s lips were nearly blue as were his fingers and toes. She shook her head. What the hell was wrong with her, all that he had been through already, it was a wonder he was still alive, no thanks to her.

  She went to the cupboard and scrounged around. There were various utensils, a jar of year old peanut butter that had begun to separate, a pack of ketchup, and more power bars. She moved the twelve pack of bottled water aside to find a box of flavor mix to add to the water. They were the individual powder packs and she pulled one out, ripped it open and added it to a water bottle. Orange would have been best but lemonade would have to do.

  She took it to him where he lay on the bed and she sat next to him, holding his head up. His eyelids fluttered again. She scooted up onto the bed so that his shoulders were resting on her thighs and she could give him the lemonade. He didn’t open his mouth so she shook him a bit.

  “Come mon petite. You must drink this now,” she cooed in his ear as she tried to get him to wake. His breathing evened out as he slowly cracked one eye to look up at her. A smile crept across his lips and the relief was so sudden that she nearly got up and did a little dance.

  “What are you grinning about you fool. I told you to get out of here. Why do you continue to put yourself in danger, I could have killed you the way I was,” she railed but her heart wasn’t in it, and he could apparently tell since his smile got wider. She could just kiss those sweet lips right now.

  “That would have been the best death I could have,” he said hoarsely.

  She made a disappointed sound in her throat as she held the water bottle to his lips. “You stupid man. Why did you stay here when I told you to go? I told you that you have to listen to me when I tell you things like this.” Her Creole was heavy with her anger and she spoke a few curses in French.

  “I don’t know what you’re saying, but feel free to keep on sayin’ it sweetheart. It is music to these old ears,” he said with a smile after he finished the lemonade.

  “I said you are stupid,” she replied again.

  “Well you already said that in English. It sounded prettier when you said it the other way. Say it again,” he said with a grin.

  “Cher. You lost too much blood. You are soundin’ ridiculous.”

  She pushed him off her as she went to get him another power bar and some more lemonade. She brought them back to the bed and sat down to watch him eat it. He made short work of them and still his stomach growled. She retrieved the beef jerky and brought it to him and he polished off the bag.

  “I guess you eat a lot as big as you are. I don’t know how you keep any food in your house.”

  “Have you ever seen my refrigerator? A tumble weed could blow past in there when you open the door. Cherish used to always…” He cleared his throat and diverted his gaze from hers.

  “Cherish?”

  “My ex-wife used to say it was like having a full grown bear living in the house.”

  She blinked a few times to process this information. “You were married?” she asked feeling a bit shocked.

  “Yes. I was married. Now I’m divorced.”

  He didn’t seem to want to say much more on the subject so she shrugged. She did ask one more question though. “Any kids?”

  This made him even more close mouthed except to say, “No.”

  She nodded and went for another bottled water. That was when it hit her. Her head began to spin and the room went out of focus. She fell to her knees. Fatigue went all the way to her bones as her head dropped between her shoulders. She heard him coming and tried to stop him but couldn’t manage to lift her head.

  “Alicia. What happened? Is it happening again? Do you need more blood?”

  She did manage to look at him then, amazed. She had nearly drained him of his life and he was asking her if she needed more. It nearly broke her heart. She saw in his eyes that he fully intended to offer her everything within him. He looked at her critically.

  “You’re not hungry. You’re tired. Didn’t you say something about needing to sleep to heal yourself?”

  She could only nod. He took her arm over his shoulder and had to drag her to the bed. She had no idea how he managed it as weak as he had to be. They both slammed to the bed and the most he could do for them was reach down and pull the light knitted blanket over top of them to keep the bugs away. He closed her up inside the center of him and the last thought to go through her mind was how nice it was to be in his arms. Then, nothing.

  * * *

  Jerry heard something stir outside their cocoon and came instantly awake. He was fully alert and threw back the covers to scan the room. There was a crow sitting on the edge of the table pecking at an empty power bar package. He got up and shooed it out of the room. It took the package and flew off in a flurry of wings. He gripped the edge of the table and waited for the room to stop spinning. He’d been on heavy meds, had stitches, been knocked unconscious, been thrown up against a wall breaking a few ribs, and had nearly been drained of all his blood in the last twelve hours.

  Once the room was stable he went and looked outside. It was nearly noon. He’d only slept a few hours. He had the thought to sleep a little longer but knew that he couldn’t, not if he wanted to live. He moved over to the armoire and rummaged through it. He was happy to find a pair of sweat pants. They were bound to be more comfortable than the soiled kaki pants he’d cut to fit. He blushed with a bit of embarrassment to remember how he’d released with his clothes still on.

  He’d never done that before. He hadn’t been able to stop it from happening though. It was as if when she took a pull from his neck, her lips wrapped around his nipples and the head of his cock at the same time, pulling pleasure out of him at every sensitive area he had. He shivered with pleasure just to think of it. His blood was certainly recouping just fine because it suddenly rushed to his shaft and made him hard as a rock. He couldn’t think of her now without wanting to be inside her, pounding away.

  He hurried to the bathroom and was glad when the sweatpants fit him without having to be cut. They were snug and high-water but they concealed him and his bandages for the most part. He tossed the bloodied dirtied hospital gown aside and laid the pants on the sink while he showered holding his casted arm and wrapped leg on the outside. The warm water felt like heaven to his bruised muscles.

  When he was finished he rewrapped the bandages around his ribs and his eyes watered at not only the pain but… at the thought of the last person who had applied this bandage. Sarah Watkins would be missed terribly. Her husband, Lenny, had died years ago, but she had children and grand children that would return from Knocksville to try and find her. They would spend time and money and resources combing the woods looking for her and he would know what had happened to her and couldn’t tell anyone.

  It occurred to him suddenly that his Uncle might be looking for him as well at this very moment. He laughed at himself. Might. The whole police force and half the town would be out looking for him and Sarah right now. It would be so easy if he could just ride away from this whole mess on the back of Al’s motorcycle and never look back. He opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were rimmed in black and the bruises on his face were still purpling. His skin was pale and his eyes were blood shot.

  “We have to have gas before we ride off anywhere,” he told the stranger in the mirror.

  He turned and headed back out to the living room. He wasn’t sure where his socks had gotten to but he pulled on a pair of tennis shoes he found near the front door. They too were tight, but he couldn’t go walking on the highway with nothing on but socks.

  He went to Al and sat on the bed. She was sweating so hard that her hair was stuck to her face and when he touched her he realized that she was burning up. Fever was a
sign of healing he knew so he wouldn’t worry too much about it. He reached down to unzip her boots and remove them one by one. She sighed in contentment as if she was relieved to have her feet free to the air. He sighed as he thought about what she might have to say at what he was about to do, but it would be better for her in the long run.

  He moved up until he was beside her and slowly unzipped the leather shirt and then unbuttoned the leather pants. He removed the shirt first to reveal a tight black sports bra beneath it. He nodded and smiled. He had been expecting something lacey and form fitting, but this was of course more practical. He didn’t know that she had a side that wasn’t reckless. She seemed to breathe reckless abandon and he was happy to see that she wouldn’t wear some contraption simply to look pretty, especially when no one was going to see it.

  He then pulled down her pants and all his warm feeling flew out the window as hot lava erupted in his stomach. Where the bra was completely practical; these panties would be the end of him. She was wearing the same sliver of black material that he had seen on her last night. They could barely be called underwear. They were more like thin string held together by a lacey V of material in the center. The curve of her hip looked so delicious in them that he found himself wanting to take a bite out of it.

  For just one moment he allowed his hand to run over the silky skin at her hips and then thighs. He had to close his eyes as desire soared to life inside him. He shouldn’t be doing this, but his hands suddenly had a mind of their own and he could hardly breathe as they snaked their way up to her bra. His fingers hit the elastic and then dove beneath.

  He swallowed hard as his hand cupped her perfect nipple and the peak rose to meet his hand. He rolled over and lay beside her as he pushed the scrap of material up and released the beautiful breasts she had bared to him last night. Wild horses couldn’t have stopped him from taking the puckered nipple into his mouth and sucking it deep. She let out a little moan of pleasure and it was nearly his undoing.

  She tasted so sweet to him and he wanted nothing more than to devour her. He reached over to finger her other nipple as he continued to splay his tongue over the peek of her breast and draw at it until she moaned again.

  “Thomas,” she whispered and he stopped what he was doing immediately. He drew back to look at her. What was he doing? She was in the middle of a fever induced hallucination about her dead husband, and here he was taking advantage. This was completely unlike him and he felt shame and guilt wash over him. What was he thinking? Where was his self control? He had arrested men for less than this. He shook his head and began to put her bra back into place but noticed the elastic band was leaving red welts in her skin.

  He remembered how his wife had said that sleeping in a bra was completely uncomfortable. He removed the bra quickly and then rummaged through the chest at the end of the bed. He found a sheet and quickly covered her up with it before he had any more ideas. He would let her sleep while he found them some gas, and maybe a stronger dose of will power. He had plenty of time to get to a gas station and back before dark… he hoped.

  Chapter Seven

  Jerry stood up and looked down at the motorcycle. He’d found the money that Al had stashed in the satchel. The highway hadn’t been too long of a walk and he’d hitched a ride both ways. He’d bought a gas can and some clothes that fit, thank God. He’d filled the gas can before he’d asked for a ride back to the head of the road. No one seemed to recognize him out of uniform. Fairfax was still a small town and being so close to Taming, he feared that someone might recognize him, but he’d seemed to go unnoticed.

  Now he faced a new dilemma. Al was still dead to the world and no amount of screaming her name had woken her. Not splashing her with water. Not even holding a match to her big toe. If it weren’t for the breathing he would doubt that she was even alive. They needed more gas than he’d been able to bring in the gas can if they were going to ride through the night. He was going to have to do this and pray that she was awake by the time he got back. He looked at the watch he’d bought and his heart lurched. It was nearly four, barely enough time to get back to the gas station, fill up the tank, and get back.

  He had seen plenty of people riding motorcycles, had ridden on plenty of motorcycles, but he’d never once driven a motorcycle. He had poured the bit of gas he’d brought back into the tank and closed it and then… stood there looking at it for a good fifteen minutes. It wasn’t that he was scared… of course he wasn’t scared. He wasn’t scared. He could get on and ride this thing if he wanted to. Alicia did it. He could do it. He was bigger than she was.

  Still he just stood there looking at it. Stop being a chicken shit. It can’t be that hard. He looked at the bike again. If Al were awake he would ask her to show him how the damn thing worked. If she were on the bike he would feel a little bit better about this. Hell, he might even be happy to be the one in control of the speed they went. He didn’t think Al knew how to go below a hundred on the thing.

  Before he could talk himself out of it again he put the helmet on his head. He had just taken the broken glass out so he wouldn’t look quite as silly with only one eye covered by the shield. Not that he could have looked any sillier than he had when he’d shown up at the gas station earlier, with the high water sweatpants and flannel shirt that was so tight he could only button the middle button on it. He’d gotten a few looks, but the looks had disappeared when he’d come out with some fitting jeans and t-shirt.

  He swung his leg over the motorcycle and looked at the kick start he’d seen her use earlier. Then he looked at all the gauges and handles and lights… it was almost like flying a plane compared to driving a car. He took his time and thought about what Al had done. She had turned the key. Pressed this button to prime it and then… With one kick the beast roared to life. His moment of triumph quickly faded as he realized that the way his hand was rolling the bar now had him moving forward.

  Before he was ready the bike moved beneath him with an angry growl and was pulling him forward at a speed that made him swallow his tongue. Breathe. Just breathe damn you! He forced himself to relax. So the bike was moving. If he could keep his balance he would be just fine. He made it to the end of the gravel road and leaned into the turn like Al had done.

  He was going faster than he was comfortable with but he could deal with that, right? He would just slow down a bit. As he looked over all the buttons and gauges he suddenly realized that he didn’t know how to stop. When she’d let him go before he’d sort of just coasted to a stop and then turned the key to off. Maybe he could do that again at the gas station. He didn’t know what all the buttons did and didn’t dare press anything so he let his hand off the gas and realized that he was slowing down.

  This made him feel ten times calmer until he neared the gas station. It was at the bottom of the hill. He frantically looked for anything that might say brake. When he saw nothing he thought back to his bicycle riding days. The brake was on the handlebars. But this wasn’t a school kid’s bike. This was a motor vehicle and there was what looked like a brake near the foot rest.

  “Hey, are you crazy!” he heard someone yell as he entered the parking lot of the gas station. A gas station attendant had to dive out of the way and Jerry felt the bike swerve beneath him. With no other choice and a lifetime of hitting the break with his foot, he slammed on the brake near the foot rest.

  With a sudden and jarring force the motorcycle came to a halt and he was airborne flying over the handlebars. He had just a moment mid-air to think and he laughed at himself. The end of his life was about to come and he would die wearing a T-shirt that said ‘honk if you love fishing’. His feet were above his head and then he landed not too gracefully on a stack of tires near the garage portion of the filling station.

  He lay there for a second starring at the blue sky, his lungs refusing to fill with air. When they finally did fill he heard a strange ringing in his ears and he thought an elephant might be standing on his chest. Stars passed before his eyes and he ref
used to move for fear of what he would feel. He had probably broken something else and he wasn’t in a hurry to tally the number of broken bones.

  A face came into view above his head and whistled. Jerry groaned as he saw who it was. “If this is heaven, God sure does have a funny sense of humor,” he grumbled.

  “Well if this was heaven you probably wouldn’t be wearin’ that shirt.”

  “That’s true,” Jerry conceded. Sgt. Gerald knew how much Jerry hated fishing. This was why he invited him to go fishing with him all the time. It was also why he felt justified in telling Jerry to never say that he didn’t invite him to go anywhere because Jerry always declined. Gerald and his Uncle Victor, however, fished all the time.

  “I think you might have some splanin’ to do Jer,” the sergeant said with a scratch of one of his chins.

  “I was planin’ on callin’ Sarge.”

  “When? After the whole state of North Carolina and Tennessee came up here lookin’ for you. They were going to try to get DNR and them federal boys up here to look for you too, although every local agency has given every man they have to the hunt. They found your bloody bandages and Sarah Watkins scrubs. We didn’t know what had happened to you. Your uncle is still out in the woods lookin’ for you right now.”

  “How did you find me?” Jerry asked, still lying in the pile of tires. It was his tailbone. He was pretty sure that it was broken. If not broken then seriously bruised.

  Gerald shrugged and spit a stream of tobacco off to his right. “Old friend of mine, name of Tom Gillis, said he gave someone matching your description a ride to the fillin’ station in Fairfax this afternoon. Thought I’d come and see if you’d show up again. Guess it was worth the wait.”