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CH.11: Kiss the girl

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As River lugged Marcus around the island the next morning, marveling over the very best amenities the powerful and corrupt could afford, she almost seemed a picture of normality.

Like everything, it was a ruse. A cracked girl lay dormant just beneath the surface, waiting to be set off by something arbitrary. Last night, it happened to be the way their place settings were arranged.

After initially loosing it, she had proceeded to rearrange the cutlery for over an hour, muttering to herself about things being unsystematic.

It had been a long night.

But today was a new day, and there were smiles and conversation. Everywhere they went, she insisted on his company, sometimes trying to thread her fingers through his as they walked.

Her attempts were unsuccessful. Marcus Hamilton did not hold hands.

Remaining cool and detached, he observed the girl behind a mask of indifference as she picked flowers for a wreath that she was making him; one that wasn't going anywhere near his head. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and it was enough to make him ill.

Yes, a part of him was glad he decided to keep River, but the other longed to be doing something more proactive, such as plotting, terrorizing, maiming or his personal favorite, the occasional burning at the stake. Luckily for him, those were becoming quite popular again.

For now, they were all just happy fantasies he continued to push towards the back of his mind. Something to look forward to when this was all over.

Around midday, when they ended up in the horse corral, and River started talking to the animals, going on about little souls and big words, he had had quite enough. He was itching to partake in something more unscrupulous than watching a crazy girl make friends with the four-legged creatures.

From the moment they entered the musky barn, the horses began to whimper and whine. They grew increasingly agitated at Marcus' presence, trotting around their stalls and snorting in an antsy panic. It was nice to be properly feared again.

The girl was currently on her tippy-toes, leaning against a wooden gate and peering into one of the stalls. As she stretched and strained to get a better look, Marcus let his gaze wash down her body, admiring the toned muscles in her calves as she rose higher. The urge to come up behind her and do wicked things gripped him.

At that moment, River turned and looked over her shoulder, right into his eyes with an expression that was neither flattered nor intimidated. She knew exactly what he thought, yet she remained impassive. He found her reluctance intriguing, enticing even.

Trying to shake the mental thoughts of Marcus' hands on her body, the force of his intentions, River turned her attention back to the horse. His mental imprints were powerful, bordering the thin line between forethought and actuality.

The horse stopped trotting and pawing at the ground, rearing its head to look its observer straight in the eyes.

"Does anyone ride them?" River pondered curiously. Her reflection was mirrored in the glassy black of the frightened animal's eyes. She remembered they had a purpose. Everyone had a purpose.

"Among other things." Marcus replied coolly, reflecting on the time or two when a client held sacrifice or had just gotten hungry. Come to think of it, he couldn't recall a time when anyone had actually used them in a way that didn't involve a mess of blood and death.

"We should go riding." River suddenly announced, blocking out the things Marcus didn't say aloud. She turned away from a quarter horse, which was becoming agitated again, bucking wildly against its stall and ramming its large frame against the metal dividers.

"Knock yourself out." Marcus suggested unconcernedly, and then added, "That's what's likely to happen if you attempt it, anyways. Some creatures cannot be pacified when threatened."

Marcus paused to remove a fleck of straw that had found its way onto his suit, smirking at fond memories of the girl when she had first arrived. "You were the wildest of them all."

"Don't like to be caged." River agreed. Her eyes flickered mischievously as she ran her fingers over the lock, unlatching and releasing the obstinate animal from its prison.

Bursting from the stall, it leaped into the air and landed, kicking up more hay as it disappeared through the entrance and into the pasture beyond.

"That one was damaged. Unfit." River explained. "Needed to feel the wind on her face before she is put down."

Marcus wondered if she was still talking about the horse.

Wandering over to the opposite side of the barn, River craned her neck back to look at the large collection of saddles and various riding gear hanging from the wall. "We should ride. It'll be fun." She suggested again. "Never know if you don't try."

"Somehow, I don't see it happening." Marcus established. He was an urbanite, not some common yokel. At least that was the manifestation that suited him best.

"You would like it." River declared with certainty, fixed on something just beyond his view.

Marcus pressed his hands together in a proper triangle. A habit that always came about when he was being haughty. "You know what I like now?"

River turned, holding out a long, sleek riding stick for him to see, and smiled deviously. "There are torture devices."

Marcus smirked as he stepped closer, impressed by the girl's train of thought. "Sadly, it's not the horse I'd want to be using it on."

The smile slid from River's face, the reality of his fantasies hitting her hard. It was another lifetime and she often forgotten about it, didn't want to remember. Couldn't.

"You like to hurt women. It excites you." This time her expression was grave, pressed with memories, hers and not.

"Enjoy hurting all kinds of people." Marcus replied straightforwardly. It was a simple fact that could not be denied.

"Perhaps if you were to feel pain." River reasoned.

"Enjoy that, too." His tone was even more wicked, like she was spurring him on, unknowingly exciting his dark predilections. As they spoke, Marcus closed the distance between them with a few easy strides, looking down at her as something to be consumed.

River wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the chill of his desire. "Don't feel it like we do. Stripped bare." River paused. "I feel everything."

Marcus lingered on her words, considering them from an abstract standpoint. But it was all in vain. It was near impossible to grasp the notion.

Stepping close, Marcus fingered the thin strap of her dress, toying with the flimsy fabric before brushing his fingers down the back of her shoulder and along the sensitive skin underneath her arm until he reached her wrist.

As a tingle of warmth and anticipation surged from Marcus' touch, River forgot the cold and leaned into his large form. Her eyes fluttered closed, sedated by his seductive spell.

Leaning down, Marcus put his face next to hers and whispered into her hair. "Do you feel that?" His voice had deepened with a lust-filled curiosity.

Her breath was shallow, poisoned by the things he was doing to her.

"It's interesting…" he continued as he traced her fingers with his own, threading his thick digits with her dainty ones, "How the tiniest gestures in just the right places…" Marcus guided her hand and placed it on his erection as he brushed his lips against her neck, "can generate such a fierce reaction."

Opening her eyes, she swallowed thickly as she felt his rigid desire pressing hard against her palm. Surging through him coursed the blood of the most ancient power, and the intensity alone was more than she could process.

"Your thoughts are mine." She whispered, the wispy tone in her voice telling him just how much she was affected. "Wicked and corrupt," She relayed. "Where I feel…" Trying to place her mind-set, separating it from his nature was difficult. They had somehow twisted together against reason.

Moving her hand up, she placed both of them on his chest where they lingered in hesitation before she pushed him away. He didn't budge.

River stood there, staring at his chest and refusing to look up. All was quiet except for the occasional blowing of an unruly mare.

"I feel more." She finally gathered, separating the light from the dark. "We do not think the same things. They clash, and it's loud, and I get confused. It's not supposed to look this way." Finally, she looked up at him, her chin quivering.

He should be mad at her for refusing him. But her eyes were doing that watery thing and he felt strangely…curious. "Tell me then. How do you see it?"

"Walk with me?" She implored. This was not the ideal place for a serious conversation.

Marcus sucked in an impatient breath. "Very well. But after that, no more games." Time and time again, he wondered why he just didn't take her as often and savagely as he wanted, why it mattered that she had a say.

The only thing he could conclude was that she intrigued him, and for the first time ever, he wanted to explore the natural progression of things, live in the moment as if it mattered in this vortex of never-ending existence.

She took his arm and they were quiet until they reached the garden where she let go and sat upon one of the stone benches underneath a shady maple tree.

Marcus looked around and observed the snow-white clematis, their petals in full bloom and the neighboring rose-colored perennials, ruffling in the breeze. "You prefer a more aesthetic setting. Is that it?"

The look River gave him spoke volumes. "I do not wish to make love to you amongst rose and vine."

The ancient demon quirked an eyebrow at her bluntness. Moving to sit next to her on the bench, he bit back, "Tell me, then. Is this where we exchange pleasantries about the weather? Or perhaps you want to tell me about your tortured past so I can pretend to sympathize."

"Don't be mad." She chastised. "I'm not interested in the weather."

As River looked up at him underneath her eyelashes, her eyes screamed innocence, and they were taunting him with their virtue. She was going to be the death of him, if the possibility existed.

"I want you." She confessed reluctantly, with a virgin's unease. "Just not…there are steps, a sequence of events." Her hair fell over her shoulder as she struggled to explain. "In order to get the girl."

Marcus struggled to understand. "I already have you. You're here, and you're mine."

"Corporeal possession does not equate the submission of will."

Marcus smirked confidently. "Will is my specialty. They bent and twist so easily. You said it yourself; you want me. Now how do you suppose that happened?"

"Saw something in you." River confessed. "Behind your blind spot. You don't know it yet, but a change is coming."

"There is very little I'm not aware of." Marcus retained smugly.

"Then you choose not to see it."

A pang of annoyance stirred somewhere deep, boiling over to the surface. "If this is what you had in mind for fun, I have to say, I'm sorely disappointed."

River was quiet as she looked down at her hands. "I thought if I could explain it to you, you'd understand. You see only one color."

Marcus sighed, eyeing the yellow strap of her dress, hanging off her shoulder. Everything was suggestive. He wanted her so badly he could taste it. He supposed if he was going to get anywhere, he'd have to play it her way.

"I give up. What did you have in mind?" Marcus asked politely, like they were doing business.

River picked up her head, sliding her hand up her arm and returning the fallen strap before looking into his inquiring eyes. The blue was brighter somehow, almost looked vulnerable, human. It was a lie she'd easily believe.

Her eyes fell across his face, stopping on his lips. "You can kiss me." She suggested.

"Oh, no. Not falling for that one again." Marcus smirked with amusement. "Nice try, though."

River remained stolid, her eyes penetrating. "You're afraid. Afraid you'll lose control. You don't like to feel that way because it's not in your makeup. Confuses you."

Before he could say another word, River leaned over, planting a solid kiss on his lips. She held her self there, his soft lips surprisingly pliant as she pushed forward gently, deepening the contact.

Pulling back, River smiled at the rare sight of a confounded Marcus and versed, "Now you know how that feels."

TBC…