by D. D. Chance
“Oh, I do,” he assured me, and the fire flickered in his eyes. “But not yet. We’ll save that for later. For now, though…”
Zach abruptly leaned forward, his lips claiming mine with a deep, searching kiss. My mind scrambled, visions popping into my brain and disappearing just as quickly—smoke and fire, a moonlit vista, stars dancing in the sky—
He pulled back again, his eyes wide and wild, the dark, needful energy leaping within them as his entire body trembled. His mouth curved into a hard, possessive smile, and for the very first time, I was scared. Deliriously, gloriously scared, and I wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything.
“Mine,” he muttered again as he pushed himself from the wall, still holding me tight. He strode across the room until we reached the multicolored chaise, then tossed me down on it hard enough to send the clock and pillows bouncing off it, tumbling to the floor. Zach came right after, pausing only long enough to pull off his shirt.
My own need surged within me, sharp and bright, and I reached back for him, every bit as frenzied, pulling at my own shirt, then reaching for the hem of his pants, our hands tangling in our haste until we were both kneeling on the chaise, facing each other like two Olympic wrestlers, naked and breathing heavily. The clock ticked loudly in the sudden silence, and I glanced at it. 8:02 p.m.
“Nina,” Zach whispered, startling my attention back. He was staring at me. “My God, you’re perfect.”
I flushed as I shot a rueful glance down my body. “Well, I’m hardly…um, wait a minute.”
This was wrong. This was all wrong. Something had changed about me in the last few seconds, something bad. Except obviously, Zach didn’t seem to see it that way. In the haze of our sudden embrace, the scars that I’d carried on my body for so long had resurfaced. Not just the ones that never went away, the ones that I couldn’t quite remember acquiring, but every tear, every brand, every bite and scrape and scratch. They shimmered on my skin like a record of the past, a beacon marking every trauma I had ever endured.
“Oh my God, seriously. I’m not this messed up, I swear, I’m not.”
“It’s okay.” Zach laid a hand on my thigh, where a dark and angry welt remained, the memory of a monster’s grip long since passed. I felt something shift in my body, cool light flooding me where his hand touched. And I realized what he was trying to do—take my injuries for his own, my pain for his own.
“No,” I said, pressing my hand over his.
Zach’s head snapped up, his eyes meeting mine. And I saw a line of fire trace itself down his cheek, flaying the skin open, I felt a similar heat along my jaw, quick and hot, the fire of absolution ripping through me.
I blinked. I’d never been injured with fire before, not like that. I’d never burned my face. So how…
Zach figured it out before I did.
“No,” he blurted. “Nina, no. You can’t.” But he seemed frozen in a kind of shock, and I took both of his hands in mine, and for the next breath of time—a second? An hour? An eternity lost in the space that only Zach and I could occupy, we held each other. Sharing each other’s pain, torment. Breaking down each other’s long-held wounds. Living and feeling and surviving—all at once, an intense explosion of sensation, a throat-closing gasp of agony—and then it was gone, and we were on to the next violation.
Only certain scars never rose up to take hold of us both, I realized dimly, like a distant lighthouse in a furious storm. The scars I had never been able to identify—or remember receiving. But even those were finally obscured by the rushing gale of all that had come before and after. Not only mine, but Zach’s as well—his caused by slicing demon claws and grinding teeth and fire…so much fire.
Tears were running down my face by the time we broke away, sprawling on each other, exhausted. My gaze found the clock again as it clicked to the next digit. 8:03 p.m.
Dear God. Only one minute had passed.
“What the hell was that?” Zach moaned, and we half laughed, half groaned as we instinctively rolled back together again on my chaise, both of us trembling. I lifted myself up on my arms and stared down at him, his gaze immediately going to my side.
“I couldn’t heal that one,” he murmured, and I glanced down at the ragged mark that some unknown creature had left behind on my rib cage long ago. A long, puckered scar, marred by teeth marks. “Or the one down your back. Or—”
“You did enough,” I cut him off. Actually, I didn’t know exactly what he’d done, I only knew I felt better than I had in years. Like all my exhaustion had suddenly slipped away, falling off me like rainwater. I looked down at him, his pristine perfect body, and felt the thrill of excitement course through me. “You’re also exceptionally naked. It seems like we should do something useful with that information. Since, you know, we can’t help ourselves.”
“I mean, it seems like we don’t have a choice,” he agreed somberly, though he couldn’t quite hide the smile. His beautiful purple eyes met mine once more. “I know you heard what the demon said earlier today, in the chapel,” he said, his words low but not quite embarrassed. More matter-of-fact.
I stared at him, and then the scene came back in a rush. I’d honestly forgotten all about it. The demon, leering and taunting Zach, mocking him for being a virgin. “There’s no way,” I protested, casting a glance back to the wall. “You seemed like you knew what you were doing.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, well…demons are assholes. What he meant was, I’d never actually had sex with anyone I—well, that I really liked. That’s really the key—for them, for everyone. The emotional connection.”
“Ahhh…” I said, then draped myself over him, reveling in the touch of his skin against mine, his every curve and ridge. “So the physical isn’t important?”
Zach breathed out harshly as I shifted against him. “I wouldn’t say that…” he began, but I was already moving down his body, exploring the slope of his sleekly muscled pecs, the ripple of his abs as they slipped down to the vee of muscles that pointed to his shaft. With every sight, taste, touch…I wanted more—needed more. But as I drifted a line of kisses over his hipbone, Zach’s hands tightened on my shoulders.
“Nina,” he began.
“Just the tip…” I promised. Then I took his shaft between my lips and slid my mouth over him.
Zach’s body convulsed, every muscle going absolutely rigid as he bit out a curse. I licked and kissed and teased for as long as I could bear, but my own body was rebelling against any delay in experiencing more of Zach, in claiming him for my own. I released him and moved up his body again in one quick movement, positioning myself above him. His hands dropped to either side of my hips, gripping me, as his eyes locked on mine. I held his gaze as I lifted myself up the final critical inch and welcomed him inside my body.
Zach’s mouth opened on a gasp as I sank down, seating him deep within me in one slide. He filled me completely, but I was lost in his gaze, the world around us shifting first to a desolate scene of smoke and fire, then to an open, grassy plain beneath a starlit sky, and then to the red-satin-covered bed he’d taken me to earlier today. It all swirled around us as we moved, rocking against each other, exploring every nuance of each other’s bodies, our hands questing and exploring the skin whose wounds we’d just shared and suffered over. The sense of impending climax built within me, impossible to ignore, but I pushed it off as long as I could.
A growing thunder sounded far on the horizon, but I didn’t know if that was a storm coming to Boston or just to Zach and me as we wrapped ourselves around each other and became one person more completely. The thunder loomed closer, crashing around us, electrifying the air. The tension tightened, quivered for a long, torturous second, then burst out of control, leaping higher and higher. Zach whispered something that I couldn’t make out. I snapped open my eyes to meet his wide gaze, his eyes wild and fierce.
“Nina,” he gasped, and with my name on his lips, we both exploded, a surge of absolute rapture transporting us once more through all the v
aried landscapes of Zach’s mind before crashing us down again upon my multicolored tweed chaise. I blinked blearily across the space as the clock, still on its side, clicked over to its next digits.
8:02 p.m.
24
Waking up next to Zach in my apartment was entirely different from waking up with Tyler. For one, Zach remained wrapped around me, warm and comforting, a slight scatter of energy glistening along my nerves wherever our bodies connected. I opened my eyes, and a breath later, he opened his, blinking as if he’d been disturbed from a deep sleep.
“Hey.” His easy smile stretched into a grin, faltering only as he blinked around in the early morning haze. He glanced over my shoulder. “What time is it?”
“Hey, yourself.” I huffed a laugh, then squinted at the clock as well. “Apparently, it’s eight in the morning. Which means we slept for, like, twelve hours. Have you done that recently? Because I haven’t. Not for a seriously long time.”
“What? No way.” Zach levered himself up on one elbow, which only made him look more like a reclining angel carved out of marble. His tousled hair dropped in waves over his forehead, his purple-blue eyes stared soulfully out from his beautiful face, his perfect skin stretched lovingly over cheekbone, jaw, and…
Hold up there, Sparky.
“Oh, my God. You’ve already changed,” I complained, rolling off the chaise and stalking toward my bedroom, where the full-length mirror stood.
“What? What do you mean?” Zach called after me, but I didn’t stop. I planted myself in front of the mirror, my hands on my hips, still scowling at my reflection when he strolled into the room, a sheet slung haphazardly low over his hips.
“Seriously?” I protested, turning away from my own image to flap my hands at him. “You’re going full-on Greek god now?”
“What are you talking about?” He strode over to me as I gestured him toward the mirror, then squinted at it. “What’s changed?”
“Are you insane? Look at yourself. Just look.”
He leaned forward, but I could see in an instant he had no idea what I was talking about. Stupid boys. “Ummm…” he tried. “I mean, I look rested…?”
“No. I look rested. You look like you’ve just spent a week at the Heaven’s Blessing spa, turning your already superhot everything into something that would make Michelangelo cry. You went from cutey-patooty yesterday morning to having your face fried off to looking like you’d been to hell and back so many times, you needed a frequent flyer card, and now…” I gave up and sighed, gesturing helplessly. “Angels are weeping right now. Tell me you can’t hear that.”
He made a face, then looked at me with real worry. “I seriously don’t even know if you’re joking anymore.”
“On this count, I’m not.” I ran my hands through my hair. “I need a shower.”
Zach instantly brightened and dropped his hands to his sheet. “I think that’s a really good idea.”
“Oh, no, you—” But I was too late. He stepped out of his sheet, and I barely held back a sob of pure, unadulterated awe at the gloriousness that was his body. Unlike Tyler, he hadn’t bulked up, exactly, but every cut of his muscles, every curve and dent as he spread his arms wide, was pure perfection. Even the dark swirl of hair that veed down toward his shaft looked like it had been threaded to lie in perfect symmetry.
“…damn.” I managed, because there wasn’t really anything else to say.
“Language,” Zach chided in a tone that sounded so much like his father that I visibly jerked—and then he was lunging for me, chasing me around the room in all his naked fabulousness until we made it into the bathroom. Whooping, he slung his arm around me and with his other hand, turned on the spray full tilt, then carried me, still kicking and squealing, into the shower.
The moment the spray hit me, wrapped in his arms, something unlocked within me, though. I sagged, nearly boneless, as he huffed out a startled breath and tightened his hold on me. “Nina?”
“Oh my God,” I whispered, but I couldn’t do anything more than cling to him, hanging on for dear life as a door opened up deep inside me and what felt like a lifetime of grief I didn’t even know I was carrying tumbled out. I began crying—weeping—with deep, racking sobs.
“Z-Zach,” I managed, but I couldn’t offer him any more explanation as my body convulsed and shuddered, smote by wave after wave of pain. Dimly, I realized he was patting my back, speaking soothingly to me, but I couldn’t respond for what felt like several long minutes, the tears flowing down my cheeks, mixing with the water to swirl down the drain.
“What’s h-happening?” I asked, surprised to hear my teeth chatter as he wrapped his arms around me.
“Maybe you’re changing after all?” he asked, but I laughed shakily, leaning back in his embrace to stare up at his absolute, breathtaking beauty.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I think your natural, nonmagical gifts of reassuring those around you, your sense of knowing what to do, what to say, whatever—I think it’s now on steroids. You’re like the Mentalist without even trying to be. Only cuter.”
“The who?” he asked, and I chuckled, shaking my head.
“Never mind. It was a show my mom used to love—whoa.” Something shifted in my chest, a fizzy burst of happiness, and I lifted my hand, blinking. “I think…I think my little outburst may have had something to do with my mom.”
I spoke with such wonder that Zach cocked an eyebrow at me. “You were thinking about your mom while you were standing in the shower with me?”
“What? No!” I batted him away, but he didn’t let me go, merely laughed with pure, unfettered joy—the first time I’d ever heard him do so. “I mean, like, your super mojo powers pulled that grief out of me—a lot of it, anyway.” I looked up at him, blinking as I put a hand over my heart. “I feel different.”
“Good different?”
“Oh, yeah.” I smiled, drawing in a deep breath of steam. “Definitely good different.”
“Well, if you’re feeling good and I’m feeling good…” Zach shifted slightly, and I realized that something else on his body had achieved ultimate perfection.
When he lowered his face to mine, I met him more than halfway.
Two hours later, we locked the doors of my apartment behind me, my head feeling so light and fizzy that I thought it might float away from my shoulders. Zach trotted down the stairs in front of me, my iron box in a tote bag slung over his shoulder, but I couldn’t look at him without my brain starting to spin. I needed coffee—desperately—but there was nothing in the apartment. We had to head for the Crazy Cup, or back to campus. Weirdly, campus sounded better to me. I didn’t feel like sharing Zach with anyone new. Not yet, anyway.
Stepping out into the bright sunshine, I glanced out of habit at the park beside me.
“What is that place?” Zach asked. “It seems a little off. Watchful, almost.”
I squinted back at him. “You can sense that? Like, more than usual?”
“Maybe?” He shrugged. “But between that and the cameras in your place, I’d say it’s time for you to give up your lease.”
“Agreed,” I sighed. And there was no mistaking the sense of relief that simple decision gave me. If I was going to be a part of the collective, whether for the next month or until I found my Mom’s family and figured out what I was going to do next with my life, I might as well go all in. With Mr. Bellows creeping me out and possibly spying on me, and the spooky park next door, I shouldn’t have any reason to stay in this apartment. It still felt a little odd, though, stepping off the stairs. After the extreme emotional deluge I’d suffered in the shower, which had left me oddly hollow and out of sorts despite Zach’s firm and reassuring presence, it felt like saying goodbye.
“Hey,” Zach said, lifting his hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “We’ll be back, you know. It’s going to be okay.”
I wanted to believe that he was right, but it wasn’t an easy sell. Still, when he reached out his hand for mi
ne, I took it willingly. We’d gone only a few steps before Zach started up again. “We need to talk more about the curse. Since, well, you’re totally at risk now.”
I squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, honestly. I’ve been monster bait my whole life, as it turns out. Now I get to be demon bait too.”
He snorted and ran his free hand through his hair. “I’m serious, Nina. With Dad, he’d planned so hard to avoid losing anyone, he thought he had it all figured out. He didn’t, though. The demons found a way to make him pay, and he’s never forgiven himself for that. I don’t know if you were paying attention to my little history lesson, but a lot of times, the victims tended to sacrifice themselves for the greater good, even when the demon hunters in my family wanted to protect them. I know you’re going to pull that shit too, so don’t even fake like you won’t.”
“Okay, then, get used to the idea.” A small tremor shivered through me, a lick of genuine fear, but I chased it away. “I do know how to fight monsters, you know. I just need to upgrade my demon-smiting skills.”
“Everyone on the team does,” Zach shook his head, the sun hitting his hair and turning it into a blue-black fall of night. The guy really and truly needed to look into a modeling contract if this whole monster hunting thing didn’t work out.
And I’d done that to him. For him. Me and the whacked-out magic of the collective, anyway. “It’s going to be okay,” I said, echoing Zach’s words at my apartment, and though the words weren’t in direct response to anything he’d said, he seemed to understand.
“More than okay,” he agreed. “We’re going to show them all.”
We’d only made it a few minutes toward campus before both our phones pinged, and Zach pulled his out of his pocket, eyeing it. Relief flitted across his face. “It’s Mom.”
A blade of unexpected sadness knifed through me—when was the last time I’d talked to my mother? The last time she could recognize my voice, before she slipped away completely? Tears sparked in my eyes again. I knew Zach had no idea how precious the gift of that text was. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to learn that lesson for a long, long time.
