He took another deep breath. “We feed on the happiness of humans. The energy you exude if you’re euphoric, keyed up, or simply happy. That is the reason we often possess clubs and the like. Nikelaus wanted your energy.”
“But if Nikelaus merely absorbs the energy that I exude, he doesn’t harm me, does he?” I asked, slightly confused by the concept.
He was scared of my reaction, but went on to explain: “If the energy you exude of your own accord isn’t sufficient, we can tear it from you by force. If we take only a small amount, no harm will come from that. It’s like a vampire who only takes so much blood that your body can easily replace it within a few days. If one of us loses control however, or takes more on purpose, that is as lethal as a vampire sucking too much blood. You will become sad and depressed. The sadness keeps mounting until you can’t bear it anymore, and you will take your own life as soon as the opportunity arises. Nikelaus wanted to rob you of your energy and drive you to committing suicide. He would have then construed a case in which I was the one who must have lost control.”
Now it was my turn to take a deep breath and swallow. “So I am sort of an ‘All-you-can-eat’ buffet to you? Have you ever taken energy from me by force?”
“If you don’t feel too uncomfortable or scared, I’m getting more than I need without using any force. And if you’re happy …” He closed his eyes, bit his lip, and gave me a wistful smile. “If you’re happy, that is beyond description.”
Since I hadn’t heard a definite no, I repeated my question: “Have you or haven’t you?”
He looked at me with affection. “No, I swear I have never taken energy from you.” I believed him, nodded and waited for him to continue. “Most Peris like to sleep with humans. You exude an incredible amount of energy while you’re having sex, and we can avail ourselves of that, taking as much as we want without you noticing. And we also simply like sex, just like you do.”
“Does it hurt when you take energy from us?”
“That depends on the respective Peri’s intention. If we want to, we can make it very pleasant for you, but it can also hurt worse than you can bear. The reason why we’re frequently labeled as demons is that during the fairy wars, injured Peris often lost control and drove people to their deaths.” When he’d revealed as much, he looked at me with a mix of uncertainty and expectation.
I exhaled, relieved. “I’m sure glad you’re not a demon!” He laughed out loud. So his fascination with me was founded mainly on my energy. This realization felt disconcerting. The truth was that I had fallen in love with him and wished he would like me for the person I was. On the other hand the attraction between two people is often founded on looks and charisma in the beginning. Only later do we learn to love a person for their character traits, thoughts, values, and even their flaws. If I hadn’t been some sort of food source for him, he might never have taken a fancy with me. While I was trying to come to terms with what he’d told me, I glanced at him. He followed my every emotion with a tense and nervous expression.
“I guess that makes you the only man who is serious when he tells me, ‘I’m happy when you are,’ right?” I joked, trying to loosen the tension.
He studied me for several more moments. “What is making you uneasy?” he finally asked.
“Me? Why? Nothing.”
“I just explained to you that I pick up more than you realize. Your vibe changes as soon as you feel scared or uneasy.”
“I simply had to think about how disinterested you were when we first met. You wouldn’t even look at me.”
He thought for a moment. “And now you’re worried that I’m only here because of your energy.” I nodded and felt myself blush, which he answered with a sweet embrace. “Trust me, there is so much more in you that’s fascinating.”
We were sitting on one of the wooden benches by the fortress wall, far above the old town. I leaned my back against his chest and he put his arms around me. The moment was achingly beautiful. If you haven’t seen this view, you’ve been missing out. Once in your life, make sure to sit up here and look down on the city at dusk. I couldn’t see his face, but I felt his nose at the back of my neck, heard him breathe in deeply. “Who have you been in contact with today?” he asked, sounding curious. Confused, I turned my head. “Fellow students, why?”
“Oh, I was just wondering. What else do you want to do today?” I had seminars the following day, so I explained that I had better go home. Though I wished I could spend the night talking and cuddling with him. Or more. But my education was important to me; I didn’t want to work in the cinema forever. We strolled back down to where the car was parked and enjoyed the warm evening air. Back in the car I returned to questioning him. “How old are you really?”
“I don’t know precisely. I guess twelve hundred or thirteen hundred years, give or take,” he said casually.
Give or take indeed. I stared at him, gawping. When I had recovered, I asked: “Do you have any children?” Wait a second – did I really want to know the answer to that question?
He continued to look at the road. “Yes, a daughter and a son. You’ve already met Stefan.” Somehow this conversation was getting weirder and more disconcerting by the minute. All of a sudden I felt so much younger. It was difficult to process the thought that your boyfriend, who didn’t look much older than you, was in fact twelve hundred years older and had two children, who were probably also several hundred years old. Although I was crazy about him, it would take me a while to come to terms with tonight’s revelations.
When we arrived at my place, I kissed him goodnight. “Michael, thank you for being honest with me.” I wanted to get out, but he put a hand on my shoulder and gave me an inquisitive look. “Would you answer a few of my questions in turn?”
“What do you want to know?”
“What are you?”
“A human being. A woman.”
“If you really have no clue, would you please tell me where your parents live? I’d like to talk to them.” After he’d been so candid with me, it didn’t feel fair to refuse his request, but I had no choice. “Michael, please, I really fear for them.”
“I don’t mean them any harm. I understand that you didn’t want to tell a room full of strangers, or mostly strangers, about them, but I thought you trusted me.”
“I do, concerning my own life. But how well do I really know you?”
“Melanie, this is important, please! I’m not going to hurt them or tell anyone else where they live.”
“Can’t you ask me something else? Anything?”
“You’re a pathetically bad liar, but all of a sudden there you were, controlling your body language as if you had practiced for years. Granted, it didn’t work all the time, but you held out against my father, which was rather impressive.”
“I simply played ‘Truth or Moonshine’ with your father.”
“Pardon me?”
“You know; the game where you try to fool each other. You try to suppress your body language, and the other players have to guess whether you’re lying or telling the truth.”
“I’ve never heard of a game like that.”
“You’re not the only one. When I tried to play it with my friends as a kid, they didn’t know the rules either.”
“Who taught you this game?”
“My father. He told me what signals and tics to look for, to tell whether he was lying. He used to call it ‘Truth or Moonshine,’ but maybe that’s not what it really is called.”
He took his hand away and leaned back. “Sarah told us that you used to go out every chance you got when you were younger, but for the last few years, she basically had to either coerce or bribe you to go out and have fun with her.”
I shrugged. “What is your point?”
“If someone as vibrant and full of life as you is out dancing and having a good time, every Peri in the vicinity will notice. As far as I know, you often went out with Sarah in Innsbruck. It’s hardly possible that you never encountered a Peri
in that city. Did anything happen?”
I began to see where this was going. “No, nothing.”
“Melanie, you’re lying.”
“Okay, there is a reason why I don’t like going out as much as I used to. But it’s not what you think.”
“Please tell me about it.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because I want to get to know you better.”
“When Sarah moved to Innsbruck, my sister Elke already lived there. I went to visit Sarah, eager to paint the town with her. My father allowed me to take the trip under the condition that I would sleep at Elke’s place, not Sarah’s. Elke had just hooked up with a new boyfriend, a guy from England I think. I never met him. I had expected her to let me and Sarah do as we pleased, but she was adamant about coming with us. It was the first time she went out with us. The evening started out great, we had a good time, and I met a rather wild young man. What can I say; I used to prefer bad boys. When Elke saw me dance with him – you know how I am when I lose myself in the music – she freaked out and basically dragged me from the club. I was pissed off. Back at her place she made me promise that I would study harder, go out less, and be more circumspect and sensible in my choice of men. The following day I went home, still pissed, without saying goodbye.”
Michael had been watching me, listening intently. The tears in my eyes didn’t escape his notice. He caught one with his finger as it rolled down my cheek, holding up his wet fingertip. “I don’t understand.”
“She died that very day.” I tried not to cry, not to sound whiny.
“You tried to keep your promise,” he concluded from my narrative. I was so busy struggling with my tears that the only answer I gave him was a shake of my head. He put his arms around me, and I burst into tears, crying freely now. When I had managed to calm down again, I explained: “I simply lost all interest in going out after her death. I had often behaved provocatively before, but was actually rather tame in reality. I guess I matured and lost my penchant for trouble makers.”
“I didn’t know that you had a sister. Sarah didn’t mention her.”
“She’s actually my cousin, on my mother’s side. Her mother died when I was just one year old. My parents adopted her and we grew up as sisters. She was eight years older than me.”
It felt weird to have this lengthy and emotional conversation in the car, so I asked him if he wanted to come inside for a bit. Before I had finished my sentence, he had already jumped from the car at his lightning speed and opened the door for me like a gentleman. “Thought you’d never ask.”
10 THE BUSINESS DINNER
We entered the house hand in hand and stepped into the elevator. As soon as the door closed behind us, he turned me around, lifted me by my hips, and gave me a gleeful smile. My legs wrapped eagerly around his waist. I drowned in his blue eyes and kissed him, following a subconscious impulse. He held me in place with one hand, while the other made its way up my back, around my neck, and then down to my breasts. My body quivered under his touch, all voluptuousness and desire. I raked my hands through his hair as I pulled him closer. When the elevator stopped on the fourth floor, he already knew which apartment was mine. We kissed and lost all track of time, and when we reached the door, he pressed himself against me. I could feel the bulge of his arousal through his jeans, and let out a luxurious moan. His own was the perfect echo of mine. Panting, he let me slide down his body and to my feet. I turned around to unlock the door. He put his hands under my shirt from behind, caressing my breasts and kissing the side of my neck. How was I supposed to focus? I dropped the key twice before I managed to put it into the lock. My hands wouldn’t hold still for even a second, so it took me forever just to open the door. Once inside the apartment, he immediately turned me around again and we picked up where we’d left off for several precious seconds. With our lips locked in a fierce kiss, he carried me to the bed. Our shirts disappeared as if by magic. His body was perfect. I’d never seen such a beautiful male torso, except in women’s magazines. I reveled in the sight, and so did he. I wanted this man so badly! I was anything but experienced however, while he had centuries of experience. The thought made me insecure. How could I ever fulfill his expectations? “Just trust me,” he whispered as if he’d just read my thoughts, and kissed me again.
“How …?” I asked, perplexed.
“Sarah.” That explained a lot. He already knew just how inexperienced I was. He kissed my breasts and unbuttoned my pants. The he slipped his finger inside me and began to massage me gently. Hot flames devoured my body. I would have said yes to anything right then. I couldn’t have been more thoroughly at his mercy if he had chained me to the bed. Shyly my hand wandered to his pants and caressed his manhood. He uttered a sensual moan, which gave me some confidence. My body took control and moved against him, clamoring for more. Both our pants were gone faster than I could process, and then he was on top of me. Taking in my every reaction, he thrust into me slowly, pausing about halfway. After a brief sting of pain, I strained against him asking for more, and he complied gladly, moving gently but purposefully. I felt as if I was about to explode and my moans became louder. My body adapted to his rhythm. Oh, how I wanted and needed this! It was incredible, an intoxicating sensation. I wanted him, wanted all of him. My fingers dug into his back, tried to pull him even closer against me. He moaned and thrust harder and deeper into me, and I felt as if I could fly – as if I was flying now. The satisfaction was greater than I would have thought possible. A few moments later Michael had his own special moment. Our bodies still trembling and vibrating from the climax, we lay side by side. He kissed me tenderly on the shoulder and stroked my heated skin. Then his lips brushed my ear and he whispered: “It seems that we’ve found another thing you’re a natural at.”
He was happy and I on cloud nine. We lay there for a long time, our bodies entwined. Until I sat up with a jerk and stared at him, appalled. I blurted: “We didn’t use protection!” but he looked amused.
“I thought we’d take our chances. I think I’m old enough for a child after all,” he said, making it sound like a hilarious joke. My jaw dropped and I smacked his hip in frustration.
“You’re so cute when you react with such vehemence,” he stated with a smirk.
“Come on, that’s not funny, what if I get pregnant? I need to call my gynecologist and get the morning-after pill!”
“Don’t you think I’ve taken care of it?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow.
“But how?”
“Magic, baby, magic.”
“Because that does wonders in my case.”
His eyebrow arched again. It was very seductive. “It might not work on you, but I know it does on me,” he professed.
I exhaled, relieved. “You really enjoy fooling with me, don’t you?”
“Oh yes,” he breathed, and then I was under him again and he kissed me. He was ready again and I had no objections.
After a sleepless, satisfying night that freed me of any tension I might ever have felt, the alarm clock woke me with a shrill beep. He was gone. I felt disappointed and newly insecure, but I went into the bathroom and tried to soothe my misgivings with a long, hot shower. Was that it? Had he gotten what he wanted and now lost interest in me? When I stepped out of the shower wrapped in a towel and walked past my desk, I saw a hand-written note.
Back in a bit.
I exhaled, flooded with relief. Then I checked my phone. Twenty missed calls, all from Astrid. Worried that something had happened, I called her back.
“Hi, were you busy with your lover last night? Oh, I’m looking forward to telling Andreas about that,” she said by way of a greeting.
“What does Andreas have to do with anything?” I stammered, perplexed and taken aback.
“He has a serious crush on you. Yesterday after you left the uni, he overheard us talking about your handsome boyfriend. He was incredibly nosy and kept barraging us with questions. He wanted to know what you’re saying about him. You
should have seen his face when we told him that you basically don’t talk about him at all. Poor man was devastated, I’m telling you. He was curious what you like, where you hang out, everything … We told him that you barely ever go out. I hope you’re not mad with us.”
When would Andreas finally give up and let it go? All he wanted was another notch in his bedpost. If I hadn’t been so annoyed with his behavior, I wouldn’t have said anything. “No, it’s okay. He’s beginning to piss me off. I told him to back off on Thursday, after he tried to kiss me. And after the dressing-down I gave him yesterday, I would have thought he’d give up.”
She chuckled. “Well, I’m afraid you misjudged the situation. He’s crazy for you. It seems that Cupid’s arrow hit him for the first time.” I was beginning to get irritated with Astrid, too. “Come on, we both know that he’s interested only because I keep rebuking him. If I’d gotten involved with him, he’d have treated me the way he treated you.” Astrid was silent for a moment and I could hear her swallow, before she replied: “Maybe that’s true, but at least leave me the satisfaction of teasing him about you.” We wrapped up the call with a curt but amicable goodbye. Still angry with Andreas, I turned away from my desk and discovered Michael standing by the doorway with a paper bag in his hand, watching me. How much of my phone conversation had he overheard? “I didn’t notice you had returned,” I said, feigning indifference. He replied casually: “I usually only make noise to appear more like a human when I move. I thought I might miss the interesting parts. I was really curious what you were going to tell her.”
I lost my temper. “So you eavesdropped on purpose.”
“I wasn’t hiding, I was standing here in plain sight,” he argued shamelessly, before he started lecturing me: “You know that he counts on them telling you about their conversation. He’s the guy who left the message on your mailbox, right?” I nodded reluctantly. He seemed to follow the old adage that attack is the best form of defense, for he went on: “He tried to kiss you on Thursday and you had to rebuke him again yesterday. Why haven’t you told me?” I answered that with a sheepish shrug. He had killed people in my presence before. I didn’t see him as a bloodthirsty murderer, but he wouldn’t have any scruples harming Andreas.
Peris Night: Terakon (Secret Language) Page 11
