Desire at Dawn

by Fiona Zedde

  Olivia put a hand on Kylie’s thigh. Warm and firm, it forced Kylie’s gaze back to her face. “Hell is waking up one morning and finding out that I have cancer. Hell is never having a broken bone in my whole life, living in what I thought was a healthy way, treating other people how I like to be treated, only to find out that I’ll be dying soon anyway. I’d kill for a hell that involved me living forever.”

  Kylie sank her fingers into her knee through the jeans. She bit her lip and said the one thing she thought would dissuade her. “You would have to kill.”

  “Yes,” Olivia said. “I would.”

  She stared meaningfully at Kylie, her gaze steady and bright in the darkness. Although Kylie didn’t think Olivia could properly see her face, she looked unerringly into her eyes, passion and desperation blazing from her.

  “You…” She paused, taking a deep breath that expanded her chest and lifted her shoulders. “You could turn me into what you are.”

  Kylie flinched as if Olivia had slapped her. “No!” She jerked back from Olivia in the swing and the warm hand on her thigh fell away. “I could never do that to you.”

  She shook her head, unable to believe what Olivia had just asked her. She stared out into the darkness, at the glittering brightness of the city, the long streets, the humans rushing through the late night, savoring the precious time they had to live.

  Light. Blood. Darkness. All these things were easy for Kylie to find with her eyes closed. With the change, she’d been transformed into a squirming mass of wants. Desire with teeth. Only these things mattered. Love. Darkness. Blood. Blood. She hated what she’d become. And because of that, she’d never give Olivia what she asked for. She would never curse her with the kind of existence that made nearly every second an agony.

  “No,” Kylie said again. “This is a curse.” She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to exist like this. She had lost her mother. She had lost her life. She had become a killer and, most days, she actually enjoyed it. She was a monster.

  Olivia breathed deeply again. Kylie could hear the agitation in her blood, the heavy beat of her pulse. But her face remained calm.

  “I’ve always known that vampires existed out there in the dark,” Olivia said. “I know the terrible things that they—that you—can do. But I don’t care about that. I only want for myself the light that darkness brings.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want that.”

  “I want more things than you know, Kylie.”

  Kylie’s hands clenched into fists on her thighs. Olivia was actually asking to be turned. Imagine if she had asked the one who had made her into this beast. How would that conversation have gone? Would she have rushed headlong into an undead existence just for the chance to walk at her mother’s side again?

  Kylie stood and the swing squeaked suddenly, a pained groan in the night. “Are you ready to go?”

  Olivia looked up at her through the darkness. Silent. “Since you’re ready, we’ll go.”

  Kylie ignored the deliberate snap in Olivia’s voice and walked away from the swing and toward the porch steps. Soon, the swing creaked again as Olivia got up to follow her.

  They walked back to the Jeep in silence. They drove to Olivia’s apartment in the same quiet. In the parking lot, Kylie closed the door of the Jeep and turned to Olivia, opening her mouth to wish her a good night even though sunset was still at least a couple of hours away.

  “No.” Olivia came around to her side of the SUV, the keys jingling in her hand. “Spend the day with me.”

  Kylie hesitated, knowing that she should refuse. Their night had turned out so differently than she ever could have predicted. She needed time alone to think about it. She needed to consider what it meant that Olivia wanted to be like her.

  “Please.” Olivia lightly touched her skin left bare by the V of her T-shirt. That warm hand burned. “Don’t leave me tonight,” Olivia said. The pain in her voice stopped any protest Kylie would have made.

  “Okay,” she said, sighing. “I’ll stay.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kylie dreamed about being bitten. She remembered everything about that terrifying night. Her fragile human self trembling with fear, her hands lashed together as the smell of death grew stronger around her.

  It was carnage. The small vampire, Shaye, had lied to her mother and the others in the clan, had been the poison in the apple all along.

  Kylie remembered fear. Terror. Thinking that she would die that night when the girl who looked even younger than her eighteen-year-old self slipped close to her with a smile, fiendishly kind. And Kylie had trusted that smile despite the gleam of malice in Shaye’s eyes. She had trusted despite being taken by force from her grandmother’s home, tied and blindfolded, thrown down in the basement, crying out for mercy. Kidnapped in retaliation for what her mother was and who she loved.

  “What are you doing?” she had screamed, her voice scraping raw against her throat.

  She rocked in panic, jerking against the chains that shackled her wrists and suspended them high above her head. They rattled from their bolt in the ceiling.

  But now, the little beast was trying to appear kind. She touched Kylie’s face after an eternity of staring at the chaos around her. Staring at Kylie with the fire and tenderness in her eyes.

  “Your bitch mother loves you,” she said. “That’s why I have to kill you.”

  And Kylie screamed. A piercing wail that made her want to clap her hands over her own ears. Shaye laughed merrily, flashing white teeth, her nose crinkling in her mirth.

  Then a slender blade was in her hand. She grinned and rammed it into Kylie’s chest. A sharp, quick pain stole her breath and dropped her mouth open in astonishment. What did Shaye just do?

  Kylie’s heart pounded in her chest as if trying to fly away from the terrible room, from the blade. Her breath heaved. Her hands tingled from lack of circulation and scraped in the shackles above her head.

  Her screams died away. Frightened breath rattled in her throat, and a cold sweat washed her palms. She couldn’t think; she could only feel the absolute horror of her life about to end. And all without ever seeing her mother again. Tears scalded her face, and she shuddered even more against the hard cement floor. Her chin dropped as her entire body suddenly became too heavy.

  Then she became aware of a scent, strong and new, very near her. Then a hand touched her shoulder. The beginnings of kindness.

  “Things will be better soon,” a soft voice crooned.

  Then razor-sharp teeth sank into her throat.

  Kylie screamed.

  “Wake up!” A voice was calling her from far off. “It’s only a dream. Wake up.” Hands touched her face.

  Kylie’s eyes flew open. Instantly, she was aware of being in bed. With Olivia. She was trembling with remembered terror, and they were both naked. Olivia was pressed against her belly, the warmth of her skin heating Kylie in a way she’d never experienced before. It was almost too hot. Too much. Her hands framed Kylie’s face, stroking her cheeks.

  “I’m awake,” Kylie whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming.

  She cleared her throat and slowly sat up in the sheets. Olivia moved slightly back, giving her some space, but not too much. Kylie gasped, noticing that Olivia was startlingly naked. Her small breasts with their succulent nipples were bared to her and the furred temptation of her cunt on display. She breathed quickly, concern in her face. Kylie backed away and found herself pressed against the headboard. How had she ended up here?

  Then she remembered. The night before, Olivia had asked her to stay, spend the day in her bed and take some of her warmth while she slept. She had hesitated, but seduced by the mixture of flirtation and plea in Olivia’s eyes, she relented. They had slipped into the sheets together, both wearing clothes in the early morning. But Kylie remembered vaguely, waking up to rip the T-shirt from her body, tug off the thin camisole and panties Olivia wore to get at her intoxicatingly human warmth.

  Then the nightmare happened.r />
  The memory of being human and having it taken away from her in one savage moment. The confusion. The pain. Her fear.

  “Are you okay?”

  It took a few beats of Olivia’s heart before Kylie could respond. The nightmare memory tugged her down into terror still, teeth sinking deeply into her, holding her under the surface of complete awareness.

  “Kylie!” Olivia called her name again, reaching out for her.

  “I’m fine,” she said quickly, unable to stop her eyes from devouring the naked Olivia. Olivia’s flesh and breath and her concern distracted her from the memories of the nightmare, but brought their own set of troubles.

  “Where are your clothes?”

  Stupid question. She remembered well enough in the night, taking them from Olivia’s body, that feeling of satisfaction that had come when there was no longer any barrier between their bodies, in that half-dream half-awake state, only heat mattered. There was no such thing as desire, no such thing as a tempted virgin.

  Olivia looked confused. She frowned. “What?”

  “Never mind.” Kylie was losing her focus, tempted by the sight of what she’d wanted for days.

  “Are you okay?” Olivia asked her again.

  Kylie could only nod. She stared again at Olivia’s nudity. She felt itchy and hot and out of her element. Then Olivia seemed to understand.

  “Do you want me to put my clothes back on?”

  “No,” Kylie said. “Yes.” She bit the inside of her cheek as the confusion and want distracted her from completing a real sentence.

  “It’s okay that I’m naked, Kylie.” Olivia said the words softly. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

  She sat up straighter in the bed, giving Kylie a long and thorough look at her body. At her whole self. Her black, black hair, a short and elegant helmet of kinks framing her beautiful mahogany face. Her long neck with the small, coffee bean shaped scar at the base of her throat. The small and tempting breasts.

  Kylie dropped her gaze lower, distantly aware that she had started to breathe, the sound loud and unnecessary in the room.

  Olivia’s belly was flat and moving easily with her slow and deep breaths. Her hips were narrow and boyish, slender where Kylie’s were rounded and noticeable in her jeans. It occurred to her that she’d never seen Olivia in jeans, only dresses that flowed over her graceful shape, skirts that showed off the tempting curve of her ass.

  And she was aware too, that she was mentally rambling, anything to distract herself from the V at the top of Olivia’s thighs. But the noise stopped when her eyes fell those last few inches, tumbling into the neatly trimmed black bush, the hint of Olivia’s sex peeking out.

  Kylie swallowed thickly. A voluptuous ache bloomed between her thighs. A familiar agitation. She pressed her flattened palms into the mattress, the adrenaline pulsing through her body. Fuck or flight. All the sexual things she’d ever seen, all the longings that had ever flooded her inexperienced body came back in one overwhelming rush.

  She jerked forward, a puppet at the hands of an amateur, and smashed her lips to Olivia’s. Olivia froze. Trapped by an inexperienced girl’s unwelcome lust, Kylie thought. She jerked back, embarrassed that she had allowed her appetites to rule her, but Olivia grabbed her, pulled her back, lips soft on Kylie’s. A hot kiss.

  She was so warm. Her hands slid up Kylie’s back, under her arms, pulling her closer, the lips parting to taste. A flick of tongue against her lips. Surprised, Kylie tried to pull back again, but Olivia followed, still kissing, still warm, an insistent temptation that held Kylie prisoner in the bed.

  Her body was singing. It was burning. It was dying all over again.

  She opened her mouth to Olivia’s tongue and gasped at the feel of it, the instant rush of wetness between her legs. Her fingers curled into the sheets. Her head was swimming and she was frightened and excited by the delicate and slow movement of Olivia’s tongue licking the cool interior of her mouth. She gasped again, sexual need overwhelming her, the feeling only familiar because of what she’d felt from watching other women touch each other.

  She lifted her hands, not sure if it was to push Olivia away or pull her closer. Her senses spun wildly, her pussy wet and aching for a knowing touch. Kylie moaned and pressed a hand against herself, a sound of confusion and agitation. She yanked her mouth from Olivia’s, her breath coming heavily.

  Olivia’s eyes were nearly black in the dim light, her lips wet and parted. She looked hungry. Ravenous. Her gaze dropped to Kylie’s mouth, but instead of kissing her again, she reached out and covered the hand between Kylie’s legs, pressing Kylie’s hand into her own pussy.

  Kylie gasped, her breath coming harder, faster. A smile flashed across Olivia’s face, then she darted in again, covering Kylie’s mouth with her own, kissing, licking, sucking until they were both gasping, the sound of their lust building the flames of desire even higher between Kylie’s legs. Her fingers tore into the sheets. She gasped at the sensation of her own fingers pressing into her cool wetness and against her clit, guided by Olivia’s warm hand on top of hers. A hand touched her breast, then squeezed her nipple, a light touch. Then firmer. Then a sharp pain.

  Kylie’s eyes flew wide open. She stared at Olivia’s closed eyes. Olivia was caught up in their kiss as she ruined and saved Kylie’s world with one touch. Fingers tugged at her bare nipple again. Kylie shuddered and came apart, her world exploding again and again with the crack of fireworks in her evening sky. She panted, frightened of the shudders in her own body, the sensation ripping her apart under the press of their joined hands. Her back slammed against the headboard.

  “I—I—what did you do to me?”

  But she knew exactly what it was. She’d seen it happen enough to other women, the look on their faces like they were dying. Had she looked like them? With her body still fluttering, she slid abruptly from the bed, away from Olivia.

  Olivia reached for her. “Where are you going?”

  “Away. I—just, I—I need to be away for a minute.” She stumbled back, grabbing her clothes from the floor.

  “But the sun!” Olivia sat up in the bed, her face tight with concern. “It’s still daylight. The sun won’t set for another hour.”

  No. Kylie wouldn’t allow herself to be trapped. She couldn’t stay here with Olivia. It was impossible. She grabbed a hooded sweatshirt from Olivia’s closet, a scarf, and gloves. A pair of sunglasses from the rack by the door. She unlocked the front door and ran out into the hallway and down the stairs. At the door of the apartment complex leading into the sun, she lost her courage. Instead, she crouched under the stairs in the small shadows she found there. It wasn’t long before Olivia’s footsteps pounded down the stairs after her. She appeared in her robe and bare feet, the smell of sex surrounding her like perfume.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded. “Come back upstairs.”

  “No. I can’t. I just can’t.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with what just happened, Kylie. It’s perfectly normal—”

  “No!” she cried. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Olivia frowned, stepping closer. “Did I hurt you?”

  “You can’t hurt me.”

  Olivia stiffened, but didn’t back away. “Is there anything I can do for you? Anything?”

  “I. Do. Not. Want. To. Talk.” She bit off each word, her teeth snapping sharply together. “Leave me alone.”

  The emotions were too confusing. She didn’t want to deal with the sudden sexual energy between them, the idea that she was like her mother and could get caught up, swept away. Taken. It was comforting to watch; she had convinced herself that was all she needed. She did not need to participate in the mess of sex that left the body trembling with raw want, thoughts and actions out of control.

  What they had done together made the nightmare she had woken from even more real. It made her remember again what it was like to be human. It made roughness of Olivia’s plea to be turned. Everything was confusion an
d pain and a cyclone of destruction to the last shreds of her well-being and peace of mind.

  “Please,” she said softly. “Not now.”

  “Okay.” Olivia made a placating gesture.

  Her robe gapped open. Kylie caught the flash of a bare breast, the darker nipple. She groaned then turned and rushed out into the sun.

  Even through her thick clothes—socks, shoes, jeans, shirt, jacket, hooded sweatshirt—it burned. But the pain was bearable. She ran from Olivia’s building and out onto the sidewalk, into the crush of humans and their smells. They stared, but she didn’t care. She ran through them, her sneakered feet pounding on the sidewalk, in gutters, through alleys, in search of protective shadows. She didn’t stop until she reached the hotel. She slipped into the room with her keycard and into the bed next to a sleeping Violet. A human lay next to her, also asleep, her face pressed into Violet’s breasts.

  Violet stirred, turned, and was instantly alert, sitting up to stare at Kylie with narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

  But as she lay there in the dark next to Violet and her human, the smell on her fingers rose up to choke her. It was her own intimate scent, the trace of the shea butter lotion Olivia smoothed into her skin before bed. It was her damnation. She rolled away from Violet, pressing her back to her, and shoved her lust-smeared fingers in her mouth.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kylie was running. The events of the night with Olivia, the touches and the avalanche of feeling that had her sprinting into the sun rolled through her brain again and again in an unending loop. She tried to outrun them, flying from Atlanta back to New York to escape the feelings, all the lust and anxiety and fear that Olivia stirred in her.

  Then she was in the penthouse, walking through its pregnant silence while listening only to the chaos careening inside her. Sex and desire and pandemonium were things she associated with Belle, not herself. This was her mother’s territory. Only she could help Kylie sort through the mess and settle her into something resembling normalcy.