Alphas for the Holidays

by Mandy M. Roth

  Or maybe trying to bring him back.

  Miri, he began. Gods, Miri. You’re driving me fucking crazy. You must know. You must know how I feel about you. How much I––

  But I still couldn’t hear it.

  Go away, Black, I sent coldly.

  He fell silent. I clenched my jaw harder.

  Just leave me alone and go away, I sent. Please.

  That time, after what felt like a really long pause...

  He did.

  I FELT BAD about what I’d said to him later.

  I felt bad, I saw how crazy I was acting, how I wasn’t being reasonable.

  So when they offered me a place on the couch, I told them I was going to take a cab home and come back in the morning.

  Nick frowned. From his expression, he maybe even guessed what I was thinking.

  Or maybe... probably... I just read into the look he gave me to a ridiculous degree.

  Either way, I didn’t budge on leaving. I promised all of them that I’d be back in the morning before they woke, and that I’d be there when they came down to open their presents. I promised Nick and Angel first, but I didn’t see Nick relax until he saw me saying it to his kid nieces.

  It’s one thing to lie to adults, but Nick knew I’d never lie to those kids.

  So I called a cab, and sat on the porch with Nick and Angel, sharing sips off a bottle of tequila Nick opened while we waited for the cab company to wade through the dozens of drunken calls they’d already gotten. Almost an hour had passed before it was finally my turn on the queue and a bright green cab pulled up to the curb.

  “You really don’t have to leave, Miri,” Nick told me, grabbing my hand as I stood up from the porch steps. “There’s plenty of room. Really.”

  That time, maybe because he’d drunk enough, I felt the heat behind the request. I also felt the extra pressure on my fingers as he held on to me a few seconds too long.

  I almost wondered if Angel noticed too, since she cleared her throat, looking away as she took another swig off the half-finished bottle, her expression neutral.

  I disentangled my hand from his gently.

  “I need to go home, Nick,” I said. I smiled at him. “But I’ll be here bright and early to help you fine-tune that hangover. And I’ll bring coffee.”

  He grunted, smiling, but I saw the tautness behind it.

  Briefly, I almost wondered if he’d ask me about Black.

  He didn’t though. He just watched me until I walked to the curb and opened the cab door.

  HE MUST HAVE been listening. Watching at least.

  I went home and took a shower, then crawled into bed without bothering to get dressed. I lay there, under the covers, naked with wet hair, when I felt Black’s presence cautiously pooling around me again.

  Something about the way he did it felt almost like asking permission.

  You’re not going to open any presents from me, are you? he sent softly, after I exhaled, making it clear I knew he was there. Not even one? Not even if I ask?

  No, I sent.

  Even so, I felt the part of me that had already softened.

  Some deeper, less conscious part of me had already relaxed; it couldn’t help but relax once I felt him with me. I wasn’t sure if that irritated me more than it genuinely relaxed me though, at least in the conscious part of my mind.

  I didn’t like needing him. I didn’t want to need anyone, not like that.

  We’re seers, he sent, hearing me. Things work differently for seers, Miriam.

  He said it matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.

  I knew for him it did... in some ways, at least.

  His thoughts grew even softer.

  Not even one present, Miri? Not even if I ask really, really nicely? He pulled on me more, his thoughts warmer, more deliberately coaxing. I sent you an actual Christmas present this time, Miri. A real one.

  I let out a low snort. As opposed to what?

  Groveling presents, he sent at once. The others were groveling. This is a present-present.

  Sighing, I stared up at my ceiling. Is it here? The non-groveling present?

  Yes. I felt a flush of pleasure on him when he felt me wavering. Outside your door. You practically tripped on it walking in. I didn’t want to say anything then.

  Staring up at the ceiling, I fought with the part of me that wanted to argue with him more, that wanted to resist the warmth he was pooling all over me.

  It felt futile though.

  Exhaling in a near growl, I threw back the covers.

  I could feel that he’d relaxed too, and not entirely because I wasn’t yelling at him anymore. I didn’t really want to think about why that was, or if it had anything to do with the fact that I’d left Nick’s house, knowing Black wouldn’t want me to sleep there.

  It doesn’t, he sent. His thoughts grew more blunt, carried more of an edge. But I appreciate it, doc... a lot. More than I should probably tell you right now.

  I’m not sleeping with him, Black, I sent, exasperated.

  Just shoving your tongue down his throat when you’re drunk, he growled. Just letting him put his fucking hands on you...

  The words came out hard, abrupt. I felt regret on him the instant he said them.

  I also felt I wasn’t the only one who had been drinking.

  Even so, a denser heat reached his thoughts.

  Gods, Miri. Don’t do that again... please. I just about fucking lost it. I’m still not... handling it well, Miriam...

  I shook my head as I crossed my living room in the dark.

  You don’t get to tell me what to do, I informed him. Not when you leave like you did. Not when you take off and won’t even tell me why. You don’t get a vote, Black.

  Don’t I? he sent, harder. You seem to have some pretty strong opinions about what I do with my cock when you’re not around.

  I flinched, frowning at that, but I didn’t answer at first.

  We’re friends, Black, I sent. That’s all.

  Bullshit.

  I meant me and Nick, I sent, annoyed.

  No you didn’t, he sent back, sharper. And stop fucking with me, please. Please, Miri. And stop pretending you don’t know I think of you as my girlfriend. Or that you don’t know how completely fucking insane it made me, having to watch you with Nick the other night...

  No one made you watch, I retorted.

  You’re my girlfriend, Miriam... in my mind at least. Don’t pretend you didn’t hear that part. If you want me to think about you differently, you need to tell me...

  I sighed, shaking my head. We’ve never even slept together, Black.

  Is that the criteria now? For being with someone? To have had intercourse?

  No. I pursed my lips though, standing in front of my closed front door. Why haven’t we slept together, Black? You know I would have, those days when we first got back from Bangkok. I as much as asked you for it.

  The silence deepened again.

  Can we talk about that later, Miri?

  I paused, even as I finished undoing the last lock on the door to my flat.

  “Why?” I said aloud.

  He didn’t answer.

  Exhaling in exasperation when the silence deepened, I opened the door, not thinking about the fact that the outdoor light was on over my porch until I’d already swung it wide. Making a snap decision, I leaned out and snatched the package up anyway, despite my lack of clothes.

  Bringing it inside, I closed the door behind me.

  Thanks for that, he muttered as I re-locked the door. Now I’m going to worry about your fucking neighbors, on top of everything else...

  Did any of them see that? I sent.

  There was a silence, and I shook my head when I realized he was actually looking.

  You’re ridiculous, I told him.

  I’m worried about you, he snapped.

  Biting my lip when I felt the emotion behind that, I decided to let it go.

  I looked at the box I held in my hands. His m
ind had gone silent again, so I didn’t have access to any of my usual guessing games.

  Pausing to light a few candles on the coffee table where I’d left matches earlier, I sat cross-legged on the floor by the same table, on a rug I had left over from my parents’ house. Pulling one of the glass candleholders down to the floor, I placed the box down in front of me. I didn’t bother to look for scissors but found the seams in the brown paper with my fingers, plucking at the tape and then tearing the paper to get it open.

  The box was relatively small. It was square, about the size of something that might hold a coffee mug, or a balled up T-shirt.

  Wrong and wrong, Black sent, but his voice sounded calmer again, almost amused.

  I finally got the box open, only to find tissue paper inside.

  Look harder, he sent, smiling at me through the space.

  At the bottom was a felt bag. Lifting it up and hefting the weight a little, I opened it, and a pendant dropped out, landing in my palm.

  I held it up to the candlelight, and immediately flinched, recognizing it.

  Fingering the design compulsively, I realized I could feel him on it too and stopped, swallowing. Where did you find this? I asked him. Realizing tears had come to my eyes, I blinked them away, swallowing. It was lost. It wasn’t on her when––

  I know, he sent. And I can’t tell you how, not right now.

  But it’s hers? I sent, almost afraid of the answer.

  Yes. He sighed, and I felt grief on him, real enough and intense enough that it closed my throat. Do you know what it means, Miri? he sent, his voice softer, but lighter somehow too. I could feel him pulling on me softly, trying to pull me out of the spiral where I could feel myself going. It was your mother’s once, wasn’t it? Before she gave it to your sister?

  I nodded, wiping my face with one hand. I found myself clutching the pendant again once I’d done it, unwilling to let go of it with either set of fingers.

  Yes, I sent. Yes. It was a wedding present. It was supposed to be about her and my dad.

  I expected Black to be puzzled by that, to ask me what I meant.

  Instead, he went completely silent again.

  That means something to you? I sent.

  I felt him hedging, but not really in avoidance.

  Maybe, he sent after that pause. I honestly don't know. But where I’m from, the original seers, it was said that the seer races first came from the ocean. Some of the original clans... older tribes I mean, where I was from... they believed some animals were the relatives of seers. They thought that even now, those same animals carried their souls. And humans, they were the third race, according to that myth. The third race is said to come from the stars...

  He paused, and I could almost see him there, sprawled out on a couch, his arm slung over his head as he gazed up at the ceiling.

  The main myth that people believed, they called it the Myth of Three, he added. It got distorted a lot over the years, and used by different groups for some pretty dark things, political and otherwise. But the original Myths, they’re beautiful, Miri. Like living light. It’s like music to hear them... especially when they were spoken by some of the elders.

  I listened to him, realizing I’d never felt him like this before.

  Looking down at the symbol in my hand, I nodded, thinking about his words.

  Whatever it was to Black, to me it was Tlingit art, a Native American tribe from the Northwest. Some of my ancestors came from that tribe, on my mother’s side. My mom proudly told us she came from several different tribes––plains tribes, and those from the coast, a clan of warriors who lived on the sea. Her grandfather, who still lived in the Northwest, near Canada, had been an artist in that tradition.

  The symbol in my hand was that of a Blackfish, or an Orca.

  I’d never seen another one like it before, which is how I knew it was Zoe’s.

  It was the same pendant she’d worn for as long as I could remember while she’d been alive, but that had been missing from her body in death.

  According to our mother, our grandfather made it when she and my father were married. It depicted a Blackfish in silver in the middle of an arcing jump, with three bright stars below it, nestled in the curve of its body.

  Ocean and stars. Water and sky––like Black said.

  It was beautiful and ornate and it was family somehow, like a living representation of what I was. I’d been jealous that my mother gave it to Zoe and not to me.

  Now I would give anything if I could hand it back to her.

  Looking down at it now, I rubbed it with my fingers, trying to feel my sister and my mom through the metal. I felt Black instead, the warmth of him, as if he’d stared at it like I was now.

  Merry Christmas, he sent softly.

  Wiping my face again, I nodded, clutching the pendant in my hand.

  I’m sorry about Nick, I told him. I’m sorry I flipped out when you left.

  I felt Black relax, even as a harder pulse of pain left him.

  I’m sorry I left, he sent, even softer. You have no idea how badly I wish I could’ve stayed, Miriam. How badly I want to be there right now.

  When are you coming back? I asked.

  It came out more like a demand than a real question.

  He sighed, and I almost heard him making that clicking sound of his as he laid there, eyes closed where he stretched out on a couch on a different side of the world.

  He didn’t answer me.

  I HAD THE pendant around my neck when I slid back under the covers.

  I felt him there still, almost felt the question on him when I realized he wasn’t going to leave.

  What? I sent. Did you want to talk some more?

  Talk? he murmured.

  There was a loaded pause, then I felt that heat intensify in my chest. Pain followed it, a pulling, aching kind of pain I associated only with him. It wasn’t really pain, not exactly, although he called it that, too. It was more like desire––an intense, frustratingly intense, longing kind of desire that I felt almost physically.

  No. I don’t want to talk, Miri, he finished.

  Letting my weight sink into the mattress, I smiled in spite of myself, shaking my head as my eyes looked up at the dark ceiling. The pendant felt cold against my bare skin.

  Is this like psychic phone sex? I asked. Is that what you’re angling for right now?

  We called it Barrier sex where I’m from, but yeah, he sent. I want to fuck, Miri. When I reacted, flushing at his words, that heat on him intensified, making my breath catch when he felt me thinking about it. What about you? he sent, his mind coaxing again, cautious. Can we do this? Are you still mad at me, Miri?

  Are you going to leave your clothes on? I asked him, still fingering the pendant.

  No.

  I watched in my mind’s eye as he sat up. He pulled the shirt over his head, then reached for his belt, unbuckling the clasp with clumsy fingers. He was already breathing harder, even before he stood up, unfastening the front of his pants before he shoved them down, stepping out of them along with the boxer briefs he wore below and leaving them on the floor by the couch. I couldn’t help but notice that he was already hard, that his body was warmer where I felt it through the connection between us.

  The urgency sparking through him caught in my throat, even before I saw him lay back down, his eyes closed as he settled on the leather couch.

  Gaos... he muttered. I can already tell this isn’t going to be enough.

  Whose fault is that?

  Shut up, he murmured. Are you really okay with me doing this?

  I smiled, puzzled. I assumed we were just going to watch each other masturbate?

  Not exactly, he sent, cagier that time.

  Before I could ask him what he meant, his presence flooded over mine. It was so intense that time I let out a low gasp, my back arching even as he pulled me out of my body, pulling me...

  Black, I sent. Black... what are you doing?

  Then we were somewhere else, and
he was there too.

  I felt his body against mine, shockingly real... his hands almost rough as he pinned me to whatever I lay on. Once I focused down on it I saw a bed––complete with sheets and bedposts and a silk comforter. I knew it wasn’t real, just like the stars above me weren’t real, the water I saw flowing by our bed, the long black dorsal fins gliding through the glass-like surface.

  He had his fingers in me then and I groaned, arching against him.

  I couldn’t slow down the intensity of feeling that washed over me.

  I was clutching his back then, gasping when he kissed me, and I felt his tongue. My fingers fisted in his hair, pulling on him, my legs wrapped around his waist, but it wasn’t enough. I felt like I was trying to pull him inside of me, under my skin... I felt him trying to do the same. Those flickers of frustration were the only things that broke the illusion, reminding me that it wasn’t real.

  A memory hit me, of what I’d wanted from him before he left, and his whole body writhed above me, right before he let out a deeper-toned, heavier groan than I had.

  Miri... can I... can I... ?

  I nodded to him somewhere in that and then...

  He was inside me.

  I cried out, feeling him there, but still not enough.

  He drove into me harder.

  Then harder, liquid heat swimming through me... through him.

  I felt a near violence on him. A wanting so intense it made me want to hurt him.

  It wasn’t enough.

  It wasn’t enough.

  Fuck... His voice broke, even as he let out a longer cry. Fuck... Miri... Miri...

  My hands dug into his back, but it still wasn’t enough. I wrapped my legs tighter around him, gasping, pulling him further inside me.

  Nothing was enough.

  He arched into me again, harder, and I felt that frustration building on him too. I saw his eyes close in that space, got a glimpse of him naked and sweating on that couch.

  I came... hard.

  So hard I bucked against him, my jaw clenched, eyes closed. I lost track of both places even as I heard him talking to me, felt his hands on me... felt his frustration... his desire. I felt him wanting to have sex with me for real. I felt him fantasizing about it, even as his hands roamed over me in this unreal place, even as he kissed my mouth, slowing his body right before he slammed it into me harder.