Shackled to the Night, page 13
It had been a case of love at first sight. The second he saw her behind the bar, her long black hair swirling around her slim shoulders, he caught a glimpse of those gray eyes, and that dazzling smile, and he felt like someone had smacked him with a two-by-four of stupid. He could do nothing but stand there in his boots and stare.
She must have felt his laser-locked gaze because she looked around the bar, her smile fading slightly, trying to pinpoint what, or who, was making her skin do the heebie-jeebies. When her eyes locked on him, her eyebrows shot up, and she met his stare as if to say, you got a problem big guy?
Move asshole, he thought. Every bar stool had a butt planted on it, but he was bound and determined to sit at the bar so she could wait on him. And so he could watch her.
He looked at the patrons, and picked a guy who looked like he was about to vacate his bar stool, face first. He pulled out his cell phone and made a quick call to a cab company he had seen on a commercial earlier in the day. When he had seen the ad, he had thought the jingle so annoying that the author should have been beaten. It was one of those things that if you weren’t careful, the tune would be pinging around in your head for days driving you closer and closer to complete insanity. But now he happily recalled the annoying bit and dialed the number requesting a pick up at the bar.
“Hey man,” he said, placing his hand on his shoulder to keep the guy on the stool.
The guy looked up at him, his eyes not focusing.
“I know you?” he slurred at Aiden. Jesus, the fucker had breath that could kill small animals.
“Sure do, man. Cab is on its way, okay?”
The guy squinted and tried to focus his eyes on Aiden. “I don’t think I’m ready to leave,” he slurred.
“You told me to call you a cab, buddy. Why don’t you go wait outside for your ride?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, but handed the guy a twenty and helped him off the stool. The guy staggered out the door.
Aiden sat down and looked at the bartender. She was staring at him, not looking happy in the least bit.
She stalked over to him, obviously pissed. And she looked even sexier when her feathers were ruffled. He couldn’t help but smile.
“That guy hasn’t paid his tab,” she said, anger threading her voice, her gray eyes cold with fury.
Aiden found himself struck stupid again. He couldn’t speak or move. All he could do was stare into those gray eyes while visions of the two of them getting horizontal swarmed through his head.
She tilted her head, crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at him harder. “Can you hear me, or are you just an asshole?”
Even though she was angry, her voice soothed him. It washed over him and relaxed his body as if he had just plopped his ass into a nice warm tub. When he looked at her, he felt as if the world around him was melting away. The sounds in the bar faded, and it was just she and he, locked in this stare, the only ones in the world at that very second in time. And he really liked it.
He smiled, broke the eye contact and found his voice. The bar sounds came back in a rush, reminding him that it wasn’t just the two of them, but them and about seventy-five other people.
“I’ll take care of his tab,” he said quietly, looking at her again. He felt like his heart would turn to mush right there in his sternum. God, she was…
She nodded once and relaxed a little. She picked up a glass with one hand and wiped down the bar in front of Aiden with the other. Back to business.
“What do you want to drink?” she asked, her tone a little more friendly now that she wouldn’t have to cover the tab out of her own pocket.
Aiden cleared his throat. “Whiskey. Whatever you have.”
“You want the cheap stuff or the good stuff?” she asked. Were those flecks of blue in her eyes?
“The good stuff, please,” he said.
And so it went. Aiden visited the bar every night, totally not interested in heading back home to New Mexico. He learned that Nat had Thursdays off, and those nights were long and lonely. He found that Monday’s were really slow, and he could pretty much command her attention for most of the night. Being in that bar with Nat, watching her work, talking with her, made his soul sing. He was usually a pretty level-headed guy, but when he was with her, he felt different. He felt like his blood pumped stronger and faster in his veins and like his eyesight was a little sharper. He felt like if he stepped outside and willed himself up into the air, he would fly into the stars.
They talked about the mundane, like her favorite color (blue), her favorite flowers (roses). Aiden showed up with roses dyed blue. They talked about the serious, such as her father’s death, and how her mother had left when Nat was only four. Aiden handed her a cocktail napkin when a tear escaped her eyes. Such sorrow, and he wanted to crawl over the bar and hold her. Instead, he just grabbed her hand and placed it gently between his.
He also sensed a sexual tension between the two of them, and he loved it. Eye contact that lasted a little too long, a subtle graze of her hand as she handed him his drink. A couple of times he had thought he had smelled her arousal. It had been very faint, so he was never sure if he was pinpointing that right. Between the cigarette smoke, the alcohol fumes, and the body odor of those in the bar, it was hard to distinguish her scent. But then again, he could just be taking a trip to Hopeville on that one.
When his ass wasn’t planted on a bar stool, his thoughts turned dark and desperate. How would a relationship work between them? Rule number one of the Doctrine: Humans were to be revered. Got that one covered. He worshipped that woman. Rule number two: Humans could not know about vampires. Breaking either one, or both, was punishable by death. He saw no way around it if this relationship, or whatever they had, were to go any further. In the daylight hours as he laid in bed, he would resolve not to see her again, but get on his bike and head back to New Mexico once that blasted sun set. It was safer for the both of them. But then the sun would make its way down over the horizon, his resolve would crumble and he would go see her. When he was with her, The Council’s Behavior Doctrine was as important as dog shit on a sidewalk.
One Monday night, he stayed as she cleaned up and prepared to close up the bar a little early. He walked her to her car, ready to say goodnight and watch her drive away. He would then, of course, follow her home and make sure she was in her apartment safely. He would either hang out and stand guard over her for the night, or if he had business to take care of, he would reluctantly move on out, only to come back before dawn to make sure that she was okay. He would peek through the curtains of her basement apartment and watch her sleep for a moment, and then head back to his own pad. Yep, he broke all sorts of human laws from Peeping Tom to stalking. He even considered a little B&E just so he could be closer to her. He couldn’t help it though, and he knew in his heart that he was whipped.
On this particular Monday night, when they reached Nat’s car, she turned around and looked up at him. As the moon played across her face and those gray eyes sparkled, and Aiden’s heart ached with the thought of not seeing her again until the next night, she asked, “Are you ever going to kiss me?”
Unsure if he had heard her right, he felt himself sway in his boots. Holy. Shit. He had imagined this hundreds of times. He had thought endlessly how soft those lips would be, how she would taste, what it would feel like to feel her tongue in his mouth. These thoughts usually ended up with him working his cock, hot jets shooting up his stomach as he imagined his lips meeting hers.
Unable to speak, he leaned down, buried his hand in her long silky hair, and brought his lips to hers, and wow. Just wow. When their lips met, he felt like someone had taken the blood out of his body and replaced it with hot, molten lava. He felt his breath catch, and after a moment, he pulled away, keeping his hand at the base of her neck.
She looked up at him, surprise writing itself on her face, her breath short as well.
“I don’t know what that was,” she whispered, “but I want more of it.”
Whatever the lady wants, he thought.
The gentle meeting of the mouths didn’t last long. Urgency took over, and before they knew it, he had her up against the car, her legs wrapped around his waist. Time and place had disappeared for Aiden. He was thoroughly lost in the pleasure that was Nat’s lips, the feeling of her black hair as he ran his fingers through it, pulling her closer. He loved the way her body felt against his, her soft curves meeting his hard, muscled plains in all the right places. His arousal felt like it was going to bust through the fly of his jeans, and his only coherent thought was how much he hated clothing right at that very second.
Nat was the one who had a shred of common sense thread through her brain. She told him to get into the car and they would go back to her place.
Aiden thought of all the nights he had watched her sleep, and how badly he had wanted to be curled up next to her in that bed. He had mused that a queen-sized bed would just fit the two of them, and had daydreamed about her complaining of his snoring, and him teasing her about hogging the blankets. And now here was reality; she was taking him back to her house, and in minutes he would be in her bed.
That first time with Nat, Aiden was certain that he had died and gone to Heaven. When they reached her apartment, she unlocked the door, and stepped aside to let him in. He looked around the living room. He had never seen this part of the apartment from his time of playing Peeping Tom, and it was clean and comfortable. But he wasn’t really interested in the furnishing at that point. After she shut the door and locked it, she turned to face him. In a swoop, he picked her up and marched toward the bedroom. He was finally going to get to explore the wonderland that was Nat’s body. And dammit, that made him happier than a nerd in calculus class.
They made love over and over that night. Urgently at first, and then Aiden had taken his time. He had explored literally every inch of her body, from her earlobes, down to her toes. He had tickled her sex with his tongue, and lapped at her sweet spot until she screamed his name. Every time he entered her, he wondered how in the hell a bastard like him could be so blessed.
Nat had finally dozed off, laying her head on his chest. He listened to her breathing. Not wanting to miss a second with her, he lay awake, his hand stroking the ends of her hair. It occurred to him that he had fallen in love. It was then he had the thought that he could not—no, he would not—live without her. Fuck the Behavior Doctrine. Fuck The Council. He had been around a long time and had never felt anything like this before, and no one was going to take it away from him. He would find a way to make this work, at least on his end. Once they got to the whole, “Hey, I am a vampire thing,” the ball would be in her court. At that point, she would have to decide what future, if any, they had together.
As she stirred, he tilted her head up and kissed those lips. Velvet, he thought.
She responded by dropping her hand down between his legs and rubbing his cock. He groaned and pulled her on top of him. She teased him, sliding her wet center up and down his arousal, until he felt like his brain would explode, among other things.
“You are killing me slowly,” he growled.
She laughed and got up on her knees. She stood him up and slowly slid herself down on top of him. They both gasped at the feeling. She didn’t move, but planted her hands on his pecks and stared down at him. He reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she bent down to kiss him.
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” she whispered against his mouth.
Aiden went still and put a hand on each side of her face. No one had ever told him they loved him. He felt his throat get tight, and his tear ducts began to sting. No, he wasn’t going to go all pansy and start crying. He wouldn’t do that.
He cleared his throat and whispered, “I have been in love with you since the second I laid eyes on you.” Her eyes flared in surprise, and she smiled. She kissed him again and began rocking her hips slightly. He wrapped his arms around her and gently rolled her onto her back, not breaking their connection.
He thrust in and out in slow, languid movements, their eyes locked. He felt her legs wrap around his hips, and he told her he loved her, over and over. She cupped his face in her hands, and he felt her walls tighten. As she came, he felt his own orgasm slam into his cock, and his fangs punched out of his gums. He fought the almost overwhelming need to sink them into her neck, to taste her, to mark her as his, and he knew that they would have to have the whole “I am a vampire” chat sooner rather than later.
That talk happened two days later when she had wanted him to go to the park during the day. He gave her work-related excuses, but then that Thursday evening, her night off, he went to her apartment as soon as the sun went down.
He had told her while they sat at the kitchen table, her nursing a cup of tea, him feeling full and sated because he had found a bum in an alley downtown and had drank.
Her first reaction had been laughter. Then horror, then anger. There had been a lot of yelling on her part, and then she kicked him out of her apartment, telling him to never darken her doorstep again. He told her that if she changed her mind about him, and could live with their differences, to call. Five bottles of Jack Daniels and three days later, when he had hit the bottom of the depression well and was just about to eat his Beretta for lunch, his phone rang. He recognized her number on caller ID and tried to sober up as much as possible in five seconds.
It was daytime, so she asked if she could come to his place so they could talk. She had never been to his apartment. He asked her to give him an hour, gave her directions, and threw out the bottles of Jack that had lined the kitchen table. He made coffee and got his ass into an icy shower. When he heard a knock exactly one hour later, he told himself he was reasonably sober. Well, kind of.
His basement apartment was a two-bedroom and cheap rent, mainly because there wasn’t a window anywhere in the place. He had opened the door, and Nat stared up at him, those gray eyes raking over him. She was looking at him in a way that made him feel like he was being skinned alive with a potato peeler. She didn’t move, didn’t say anything, just stared at him with her arms crossed over her chest. Then her eyes got glassy and she began to cry.
He pulled her inside and wrapped his arms around her. They talked for a few hours, him telling her about his long life, what being a vampire entailed, and how he envisioned their lives together.
She asked if he wanted to drink from her, and since they were playing ball in the honesty field, he told her yes.
After there wasn’t anything left to say, she stood and led him to his bedroom, where they made love urgently. As she writhed below him, he felt his fangs elongate, and instead of burying his face in her hair or a pillow, he looked her directly in the eye so that she could see what he was, his true self. She reached up and touched the fangs, sending a spasm of pleasure down his spine.
“Bite me,” she said, turning her head. That throbbing purple vein beneath her lily-white skin called to him like nicotine called a pack-a-day smoker. His mouth went dry, and he began to breathe even harder. Just the thought made his hips move with more urgency.
He hesitated only for a second, and then he struck quickly. She gasped, and then moaned. The sweetness of her blood filled his mouth and brought tears to his eyes, wetting his cheeks as he shattered apart, both mentally and in the orgasm of his life. His vision went black, and his body went limp on top of Nat.
When he came to seconds later, he knew that they would have to disappear. Yes, here he was breaking all rules of the Behavior Doctrine, and frankly, he didn’t give a shit. He would not let that mother of his come between him and his Nat. Yes, she was his. His everything. His beating heart, she anchored his bad side, and made him feel he could actually tolerate himself. He would hide them as best as he could, and hoped that his mother wouldn’t show. He would do more than hope. He would wish her away if that was what it took. Hell, he would pray she didn’t make an appearance. And if she did, she would have to kill him before she even thought about laying her dark, evil eyes on Nat.
Later that day he made his plans. He threw his cell phone into a nearby lake and packed up his meager belongings. Nat got her stuff together, and they left the next night on Aiden’s Harley.
They ended up in a little town just over the Mexican border, and had lived a quiet life in a sweet little out-of-the-way house. They bought blackout drapes for the windows, and Nat went to town decorating the place, making it a very cozy home. He realized that he had never had a home. His brothers and he had lived mainly in caves or underground sewers and tunnels while growing up, being dragged all over the world while his mother looked for her next victim, the next human to give her a child. After that, when he was old enough to be on his own, sure, there had been places he lived, but he had never been with someone he loved, and that made four walls and a roof a true home. It didn’t matter what color couch they had, what paint Natalie slapped on the walls, what brand of appliances they used or the color of the rugs, as long as he was living with her, he was home.
Aiden waited for his brothers to come looking for him. He wondered if he would have to fight them, or if they would turn a blind eye to all the rules he was breaking. He imagined Thaddeus trying to talk some sense into him—the guy was big on talking before violence, but Aiden knew that no matter what his brother said, he wasn’t going anywhere. If Thaddeus or any of his brothers were going to do their job and enforce The Council’s Behavior Doctrine, he wasn’t going down without doing some damage. And no one would be laying a hand on his female even if it were simply to erase her memories of him. He would have to be very dead before that would happen. He waited for his mother.
