The Hyacinth


He waited, like the predator he was. No one could comprehend the importance of this meeting. He appeared calm, pleasant and approachable, but on the inside, he was raging. He felt like a storm with his emotions - all of them intense and confusing - roiling inside him. He took a deep breath, reached for the beer that had been placed before him. He tilted it back and took a swig.

His eyes scanned the frequent restaurant visitors. He knew them all, was friends with them all. His gaze landed on the bartender: a lanky, pale man with dark hair and haunting blue eyes. Out of all of them, the bartender was his closest friend. In fact, he claimed him as a brother.

He jolted when tiny hands fell on his shoulders. Feminine laughter grated on his nerves, but he hid it well. "Hey, you!" she greeted. "Did I scare you?"

He forced a laugh, saying, "Yeah, I guess you did. You're late." And he was someone that treasured punctuality...

"I'm sorry," she said, her fingers wrapping around the neck of his beer bottle. She lifted it to her lips, taking a few gulps before placing it back on the table. "I got stuck chatting with a friend."

He didn't like excuses. "I guess it's fine," he murmured, turning his gaze away. He hated the look she was giving him; she stared at him with eyes darkened with desire, with parted lips that begged for his kiss.

"Aww, baby..." She leaned down, wrapping her arms around his neck and rubbing her head against his. "You don't look very happy with me. We can go back to my place and I can," she paused meaningfully before whispering in his ear, "cheer you up."

He remained silent for a moment, as if he had to think about it. "Fine." That was all he said before he pushed himself to his feet. Her arms coiled around his waist as she nestled into his side.

"Is your car here?" he asked her.

"No. I had my friend bring me. Why?"

"I have something I need to do today. Wouldn't want to leave you stranded at your place."

They walked out, enduring the harsh wind and bitter cold. When they got into the car, he made sure to turn the heat on.

"I hate this," he heard her complain. "My fingers get so numb! Is my face red?"

"Yeah," he said. "A little bit."

"Damn," she grumbled. She smiled suddenly. "I can't wait to get back. You'll chase away the cold from my body, won't you?"

God, he felt sick. He managed a smile. "I'll do all of that and more, baby..."

"I want you to stay with me," she told him. "Leo won't be back until Tuesday, so we'll have the apartment to ourselves. You can do what you need to do and come back to me."

Leo Embry. The one she wanted him to believe was her brother. He knew her story; he never got into one of these messes without doing his homework. Her parents had kicked her out because she'd been defiant and childish. She had been living with and using men since then, relying heavily on her looks and her...other talents.

She made it too easy, he thought. He was her dirty secret, kept hidden from the rest of the world. She normally only met him on his turf, where no one would recognize her and where everyone respected him and didn't question his actions.

"Oh, yeah?" He tried his damnedest to sound interested.

"Yeah! So, what do you say? Will you stay with me?"

"I might," was his noncommittal reply.

"You look tired," she said, one of her hands falling to his thigh. He glanced over to see her face, to see the wicked intent in her eyes. Disgusting beast...

"I am a little tired," he admitted, closing his eyes when they stopped at a red light. He tensed up when her hand wandered up, trying to feel him through his jeans.

"Your reactions are always so priceless!" She laughed. "You act like an innocent."

He was an innocent. Why would he waste himself on the likes of this creature and the other ones that were just like her? There was only one that would be good enough for him... His woman - his sweet Lydia - had the purest soul, the brightest eyes and a ready smile. She was not self-serving, like this thing beside him. Lydia was driven by her need to help, to protect, others.

He laughed, though. "I'm driving," he said. "You're making me nervous."

"Afraid I'll make you drive into a ditch?"

"Something like that," he murmured.

They were silent for a long moment. He didn't mind. He hated even the sound of her voice. He sighed when they finally made it to her apartment building.

"Come on," she urged, getting out of the car. He followed shortly after, standing on the stoop with her while she unlocked the door.

At once, he became a different person, holding himself at a distance and answering her with very few words. He kicked the door closed as he watched her; she hastily picked up some of the things she'd left lying around. "Sorry!" But she was laughing. "Sit down! Make yourself comfortable…" As she spoke, she removed her coat and tossed it aside. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the couch, her eyes darkening with desire. For him.

He was reluctant, but he didn't let it show as he moved to sit by her. "Silly," he heard her say. "Take off all of that stuff!" She giggled and he sighed. "You're not still mad at me for being a little late, are you?" She tilted her head to one side, her mass of red-gold curls attracting his attention. Probably the only thing he liked about her…

He offered her a small smile that disappeared soon after. His eyes widened when she straddled him. He looked up at her and she leaned down to cover his mouth with hers. He felt a pang of guilt when he returned the kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth to dominate, to possess.

Lydia was always on his mind. Always. This was a betrayal! His body responded as any man's would – and guilt overwhelmed him because of it. He gripped her upper arms, wanting only to throw her away from him. He refrained.

For all he knew, Lydia was doing this same exact thing – but with that Jayden character. He shouldn't feel guilt. He should want this. He should take this woman like he would take Lydia – like an animal.

She whimpered. "Your gloves are cold! Take them off!"

He opened his eyes, then. His gaze fell to one of his hands, slid down the length of her arm to find the lines – old and new, jagged and clean, crisscrossed and lonely – marring her pale wrist. And he remembered what he was doing here. He licked his lips, still tasting her – and felt disgust all over again.

Her house phone went off suddenly. "Ignore it," she murmured as she nuzzled his cheek. She ground herself against him, surely hoping to distract him. His body raged, wept, roared for release. He wouldn't allow it. His purpose was clear.

Jacquelyn, baby, it's Leo. If you're there, pick up, please. I need to talk to you. My mom called and said that she'd been trying to reach you in order to talk about the wed—

She pushed off of him and he grunted. That hurt! She rushed over to the phone. Without wasting any more time, he stood, his footfalls kept light as he drew his blade. She answered and ended the call in a matter of seconds. Sensing how close he was, she tried to whirl around to face him as he pounced on his prey.

He placed his hand over her mouth, trapping her scream. "Hush, baby girl. I did promise to chase the cold away from your body, didn't I?" She elbowed him repeatedly and he ground his teeth against the rush of pain. "Quit fighting!" he snarled. He lifted the knife, touching the steel to her soft flesh. She struggled violently.

Briefly, he found himself wondering why she would fight him. He offered peace. It was what she wanted, right? The cutting of wrists seemed a slow way to go, a cry for attention more than anything, he thought. Life offered only endless pain; it didn't do anyone any favors. Why would she fight?

He applied more and more pressure. The blade sank into fragile skin and then some… Still, she fought. He sighed, frustrated. His thoughts and emotions were conflicting already, but…this was necessary. Ruthlessly, he dragged the blade across her throat. Blood sprayed and he allowed her limp body to fall to the floor.

Jacquelyn tried to force air into her lungs; he could hear her laboring for breath. Slowly, he turned away, wiping his blade off on the throw blanket. He stored the knife and rummaged around for a pen and paper. Another warning.

He wrote hastily, maybe a little sloppily. It couldn't matter right now. His gaze searched, eventually finding the vase of flowers that he'd sent her. What kind of story had she told Leo when those had showed up? He shook his head, approached the vase and tucked the note into the flowers. He pulled one of the brightly colored flowers out and tossed it so that it landed on Jacquelyn's back, along with one of his signature "infinity" cards.

"May you find peace in the next life, baby girl." He locked the door before leaving her behind. He tucked his hands into his pockets and lifted his head...with a smile.


Author's Note: holy potato! Our guy - do you think he's freaky enough? Oh. In no way do I ever mean to offend anyone, just so you know. Touched on some sensitive subjects up there... Anyway, thankies for taking the time to read!