by Lucinda Dark
“Barbie…” I turned, relieved to hear someone—anyone—answer me. But it wasn’t one of my parents and it wasn’t Brandon.
A tall man stumbled through an open doorway, red coating the front of the white shirt he wore. His shoulders were broad, his chin chiseled. Dark eyes met mine, filled with pain. He stumbled and went down on his knees and automatically, I reached for him.
“Barbie,” he whispered my name again, a prayer, a plea. I didn’t understand. I touched his face gently, curious. He reached up, his fingers coated with his own blood as the stain on his shirt spread outward. “Kill me.”
I jerked.
“W-what?” I blinked, sure I had misunderstood.
“Why…” He gasped for breath, his voice growing raspy. I leaned down as I tried to hear him. “Why did you…”
“Why did I what?” I asked.
“Why did you kill me?”
My heart stopped in my chest. Kill him? Me? I lifted up and stared down at coffee dark eyes circled by a ring of lighter autumn leaf colored brown. What did that mean?
Then it hit me. I knew this man. My heart restarted and doubled in its effort to catch up on its missed beats. It thrummed in my chest. Faster and faster. Red covered my hands, soaking the front of my dress. My … dress? It was the same dress I’d worn all those months ago. The night I’d killed my family. I stared down at Maverick’s now familiar face.
“No. No. Nonononononono.” I whispered the word at first and then, as I repeated it, it grew in volume. No. Not again. I couldn’t let this happen again. “Maverick?” I shook his still body, but he remained unconscious.
My hands shook. My body trembled. Just as my mind was about to fracture, a low, deep, masculine laugh started up. I looked up, but there was no one else in the room. Still, the laughter went on. Slowly, I rose to my feet. My knees knocked together. My teeth chattered.
“What a poor little hunter, so scared, so feeble, so … human.” I didn’t recognize the voice, but I didn’t like that it was taunting me. My chest tightened and with it, so did the rest of me. I jerked and looked down when something cool touched my palm as I squeezed my hands into fists. My father’s sword. “Do you truly think you can kill me?” the voice asked. “Or are you just another weak child?”
I wasn’t weak. Maverick’s body drew my eye. This wasn’t real, I assured myself. Maverick was fine. He was alive. This was just a nightmare. A bad dream.
“Barbie.”
I needed to stop this. But how? My breaths came in pants. Too much. It was too much. There wasn’t enough air.
“Barbie.”
Maverick’s open eyes, devoid of life, stared at me. Accusing me. Where was Torin? Was he dead too? Had I been the reason? Had my actions brought tragedy once again?
“For the love of Satan, girl, wake up.” A shrill, piercing snap shattered the image before me. The darkened house fell away, fissures of white cracking through the picture of it until the walls were stripped away, breaking off into little, tiny pieces. “I’ve just about had enough of this,” the familiar feminine voice huffed.
Heels clicked against a hard surface as Satrina appeared. “It’s just a fucking dream,” she snapped as she strode right up to me. “Stop being all death, doom, and gloom.”
I paused, thinking. Then I brought up the sword in my fist and shoved it right through her as she stopped in front of me. For a moment, both of us were shocked. She blinked and looked down at where the metal gleamed, the end penetrating right through the left side of where her ribcage was. Then, she threw back her head and laughed.
One gold eye and one ocean blue eye settled on me, glowing from within with infernal intent. “Burn them all to ash, Barbie.”
And I did. She vanished and the world around me caught fire. The flames erupting at my feet and spreading outward. It lined a path for me. I strode forward, feeling stronger as I reached for the heat and let it sink beneath my skin.
“Use me,” Satrina whispered on the wind. “Take the power.”
I did. I sucked it inside. Let it spread until all of the darkness was consumed by the scorching blaze that whirled around me. And when the fire had devastated all that was left of the dream, I closed my eyes.
Silence greeted me as I lifted them once more. Gone was the fire. I stared up at the ceiling of my bedroom and sucked in a breath. A shiver worked down my spine as the air conditioning kicked on, blowing icy air over my face. Rolling to my side, I checked my phone and saw that it was just past midnight. Sweat coated my face and neck. With a groan, I sat up and wiped it off with the back of my hand as I slid out from between the sheets.
When my feet touched down on the floor, I paused for a moment. Dreaming about the death of my family was nothing new but dreaming about Maverick's death was. Would I have been able to escape from the nightmare myself if Satrina hadn't shown up? A part of me wondered why she had at all.
Shaking my head to dispel the thoughts, I got up and left the room, padding into the hallway towards the bathroom. I came to a slow stop at the light spilling into the darkened corridor from the workout room. Soft grunts and the sounds of metal and rubber filtered out of the cracked door. At the door, I touched lightly against the wood to push the barrier open just a bit more.
My breath stuck in my throat at the view in front of me. Maverick's back was a mass of corded muscles. They bunched and tightened as he took a breath and pulled against the machine he was using. Rivulets of sweat slicked down the center of his back towards the edge of his shorts. They, too, were drenched with sweat and sticking to his thick thighs as he yanked against the workout machine, pumping the weights.
A coil of sharp desire unfurled in my stomach. I pressed my legs together, my fingers locking on the doorknob. I should leave. Yet, at the same time, my legs couldn't seem to move away. My eyes were locked on him and they refused to budge.
Soft fingertips danced against the small of my back, pressing forward. Don't resist it, darling ... Satrina's voice breathed in my ear. Just take a step inside. Nothing bad will happen.
I couldn't say why I listened. Maybe I was still under the influence of my dream. The sight of Maverick, strong and vital as he worked against the weights when just moments before, in my nightmare, he'd been dying. Whatever the case, my hand lifted and pushed more firmly against the workout room door, shoving it open as I was drawn into the room.
Seven
Maverick
Pull. Release. Pull. Release. Pull. Fucking. Release. I pumped the weights. Over and over until my mind leveled on nothing else. Until my muscles screamed at me to stop. Until sweat coated every inch of my skin, soaking through the band holding my gym shorts up. I grunted under the massive weight I’d slotted for myself, breathing through my mouth as it threatened to overwhelm me.
The hours counted down until Torin would be back and I had the distinct feeling that as soon as he arrived, things wouldn't remain the same. We were changing. All of us. It made me nervous. I couldn't fucking sleep. I pumped more, yanking down with a massive fury, pushing my arms until they felt like they were going to fall the fuck off.
I needed to train harder. I needed to go further. Never before in my life had I been the weakest link. But I knew that, in our little mismatched group, I was. Barbie was uncontrollable, but she was well-trained. As young as she was, she'd taken on vampires without an issue. And so far, she'd won every time. If she hadn't, she'd be dead now. It wounded my pride to know that I'd been saved by her before.
That's why I'd pushed myself to master my skills with the gun Torin had given me. Hours at the shooting range. Lost sleep. It didn't matter. I couldn't erase the knowledge I now had. I needed to be stronger, still, train more, be faster. Flashes of images attacked me. Barbie covered in blood and wounds. Barbie coughing up red. Barbie, with her eyes staring, unseeing, up at nothing. If I was to continue hunting with her, I would not be the reason she got killed. I swore this to myself. It was an unspoken oath but no less paramount.
When I lost count of how ma
ny times I’d pulled on the chords holding the weights, I decided to call it quits for the night. I lifted my arms and lowered the weights, setting them back into place as I stood. I swiped a hand down my face and looked up and across from me to the long mirror pinned to the wall. Looking like hell, I would have given anything to be able to sleep, but my mind wouldn't shut the fuck up. It ran nonstop. The only time it seemed to quiet was if I was pushed to my breaking point. I stretched my arms, relieving the tension.
A sound from the door alerted me to someone entering. Considering that less than five months ago, a vampire had broken into my house and nearly killed me, I wasn't surprised by my reaction. I reached out and snatched the intruder and slammed them against the wall in a burst of movement, freezing only a split second after I'd drawn my fist back.
Eyes of frosted blue stared up at me. My breaths came in rough panting puffs against her skin. "Barbie?" I stared down at her. “What the hell are you doing up?”
Her lips parted, drawing my eyes down. Once my focus was there, it wouldn’t leave.
“I had a dream,” she said. “About you.” I didn’t say anything but waited for her to continue. “You were dying. You did die. And you asked me…” Her chest rose and fell.
My groin tightened. “What?” I asked. “What did I ask you?”
“You asked me why I killed you.”
I drew my head back and truly looked at her. At the dark circles beneath her eyes, at the pallor of her skin, and the mussed strands of her hair. With her head pushed back against the wall so she could look up at me, she looked younger than she actually was. Softer.
Small fingers encircled my wrist, startling me. I darted a look to where her hand touched mine. What the hell? I jerked my gaze back to hers. Barbie’s lids lowered as she stared at me. Was she still half asleep?
Gently, I pried her grip off of me and took a step back. “Sorry,” I mumbled, rubbing a hand over the back of my head. “I didn’t mean to push you against the wall. I thought you were an intruder. You should go back to bed.” I turned to go.
“I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.” Her words were spoken in a voice I’d never heard from her before. My eyebrows shot up as I twisted my head back in her direction.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I demanded. What game was she playing at?
Barbie moved forward until her front was pressed against my back. I stiffened. The only thing sitting between the feel of her nipples against my skin was the thin t-shirt she wore. My cock hardened in my pants. I gritted my teeth against the swell of it, my hands clenching into fists.
“Barbie, unless you want me to do something you won’t like, I suggest you let me go. Right. Fucking. Now.” I growled the words, a warning and a testament to how on edge I was.
Somehow, I thought I had worked out all of the tension in my body, but just a few minutes in her presence and it was back in full force.
“What makes you think I won’t like it?” she asked softly, her hands touching my back lightly.
I hissed as her cool fingers trailed down the skin stretched taut over my muscles. “Barbie,” I barked her name. “Let. Go.”
Her breath whispered over my flesh. I closed my eyes, reaching deep for the strength to keep my raging hard-on under wraps. “Maverick.”
That was all it took for my carefully constructed control to snap. My name on her fucking lips. Those plush, fuckable lips.
My mind blanked. My body moved all on its own. There was no stopping it. I spun and shoved her back, my hands reaching down and gripping her by her waist as I lifted her and slammed her spine against the wall once more.
My mouth came down hard over hers and found no resistance. Her legs rose and wrapped around my hips. She arched up against me and—fuck! How had I not noticed that she wasn’t wearing shorts? The t-shirt she wore, which before had dangled low on her upper thighs was shoved up. Nothing but thin scraps of fabric separated us. My shorts and her panties. My erection throbbed with the need to be inside of her.
Desire was a dangerous need.
Eight
Barbie
Maverick’s hands were hard against my skin, restraining, commanding, immovable. I gasped as one of them sank into my hair and yanked my head back. His mouth devoured mine, harder than before. My thighs clenched as I locked my ankles at the small of his back and leveraged myself up to press against him. I could feel the hot, hard length of him against me, between my legs. Just a scant breath from where I wanted him.
My body was on fire. The flames crawled through my limbs. Fog surrounded my thoughts as I fell deeper into the insatiable need that rose up within me. Heat swirled. I touched his arms, smoothing downward. I moved to his chest, exploring the tightness of his muscles. His sweat was drying against his skin, against me. Soon, I’d be covered in him. I tipped my head back farther, granting him more access. To my mouth, my throat, my breasts. Anything. Everything. He could have whatever he wanted so long as he never stopped what he was doing.
“Maverick,” I whispered his name as he broke off the kiss, but it only seemed to light something within him, making it burn to undeniable heights. Each time I breathed it, he came back hotter and harder. His hips shoving forward against me, rubbing me until I either needed to take the situation into hand or get out of it.
As if my arm was possessed by an unseen force, I reached for him. I moved my fingers to the edge of his shorts and delved beneath until they curled around the base of his cock. I palmed his hard erection and slowly pumped my hand once. A slow up and down motion, squeezing lightly, loving the feel of his muscles against my body as they constricted. He thrust his hips again, his face scrunching up. A vein pulsed in his neck. I leaned forward, pressing my mouth to it as I licked a path up his throat. His hips chased my hand as I continued moving my fist in an up and down motion, palming and squeezing him.
Maverick’s head reared back and my mouth left the column of his throat. His eyes glittered dangerously as he glared down at me before the hand in my hair tightened and pulled me closer. His mouth descended, stopping just before his lips touched my own. I whimpered.
“Please…” I whispered. His breath mingled with mine and a second later he shoved his tongue into my mouth, twining with my own. I panted. I gasped. He was so hot and hard in my grip. I paused as I came to the head of his cock, rubbing a thumb over the surface and feeling my fingers come away wet. I circled the wetness over his slit, relishing in his groan as it echoed from him into me. Tingles raced through me. Heat boiling a path in my veins. My back against the wall. His mouth on mine. My hand on his cock. I wanted more.
Then take it, a voice whispered. I didn’t stop to think that that voice wasn’t my own. I didn’t consider the repercussions. I just heeded its demand and I took. My mouth fitted more firmly to his. My hand tightened on his cock. I stroked and pulled him towards me, his name on my lips.
“Maverick,” I gasped. “Please, I want more.” Why did my voice sound like that? Deeper. More sexualized. I’d never sounded like that before in my life. A groan worked free of my throat as he pushed his cock harder into my hand, as if he couldn’t help the movement. His lips were ripped away from mine and like a puppet on a string, my head followed the movement automatically. I couldn’t lose it. This feeling overtaking me. “No,” I protested. “More.”
“Barbie…” He rasped out my name, his chest heaving with the effort. Was I too heavy? He held me up off the ground as if it was nothing to him, my spine pressed hard and fast to the wall. At the same time, however, his muscles were trembling. All over, he shook.
“Mav?” I panted, my body swelling with an intense craving. My breasts hurt. My thighs burned. My pussy throbbed. I needed it. I needed more. What the hell was he doing? Why was he hesitating?
In a burst of speed, Maverick spun me around, the air stirring up the strands of my hair. My hand was drawn from his shorts and a moment later, he had me laid out flat on the floor. His body came down on top of me, his dark eyes flas
hing with intensity. Breath caught in my throat, I stilled as he lifted the fabric of my t-shirt, drawing it up and up. His head descended. My nerves frayed at the edges as he revealed first the slender lines of my abdomen and then the lower curves of my breasts. I squirmed, silently begging. My thighs spread wide around his hips and then his chest as Maverick’s head reached my belly button.
The friction of the fabric between my legs and the feel of him was enough to drive me to insanity. “Stop making me wait,” I warned harshly. His eyes darted from where they lingered against my revealed skin to my face.
“You want me?” he asked.
I nodded. As if it wasn’t fucking obvious enough. Of course, I wanted him. I knew there were reasons I shouldn’t allow this, but in that moment, I couldn’t think of a single one. No. My entire being was centered solely on where he sat between my legs and how close his mouth was to my pussy.
He leaned closer until I was surrounded by the musk of his scent. His jaw, roughened by the shadow of a beard that had grown there, rubbed against the soft skin of my stomach, prickling. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
“How badly do you want me, Barbie?” he asked. “Do you want me to take you like this?”
Yes. Holy fuck, yes. I wanted it. I squeezed my eyes closed and reached down, threaded my fingers together at the back of his head as he licked a path straight up my stomach until he stopped where he let my t-shirt fall. Heated breath drifted over my skin.
“Maverick…” His hand pushed the shirt up farther, baring my breasts. I heard the intake of air from him, the sharp movement of his chest as he rested against me.
“Why now?” he demanded.
I groaned and struggled beneath him, my legs attempting to scissor apart. There was no pressure where I needed it. I lifted my head and let it thump back against the floor of the workout room. My face was flushed and he was asking me why. Why did I want him?
