Chapter Fifteen
Sam must have read the same line of the comic in his hand a thousand times, he just couldn't concentrate on anything other than trying to wrap his head around what had happened between Flick, his mom and Mike. It seemed like in such a short space of time his family had been torn apart and he had no idea how to fix it.
Mike had always been a bit of an asshole to him and Flick but since moving to Santa Carla and meeting Star, he'd changed into someone Sam no longer knew. It wasn't just Michael that had changed either, his mom had also changed and he wasn't so sure he liked it. She'd never been so hard on Flick and she'd certainly never said anything so hurtful as to tell her own daughter that she was done with her. Sam couldn't understand why their mom had said what she had, sure his older sister did have a knack for finding herself in trouble but it was never for attention or to cause problems for their family, it was just Flick being Flick, she was a rebel and Sam loved her for it – he wished he could be more like her if he was honest.
Sam sighed, tossing the comic onto his nightstand knowing their was no point in trying to focus when he had so much on his mind. He glanced over his shoulder out of the window and saw the sky illuminated in vivid shades of violet, interspersed with flashes of bright white as the storm continued to wage war outside. He frowned, anxiously chewing his lip. He was worried about Flick, he had no idea where she'd gone or if she was safe. She could have been swept out to sea for all he knew and yet there was only him who seemed to care. His mom had set off for work as usual earlier in the evening and he wasn't sure where Michael was but he was pretty sure he wasn't home.
Taking advantage of an empty house, Sam decided rather than sitting in his room doing nothing, he'd take Edgar and Alan's advice and look for anything that would give him an answer about Flick's mortal status. He was pretty sure she was still human judging by the copious bruises and broken ribs from her attack, surely an immortal wouldn't have come off so messed up? Regardless, if only to keep himself busy and his mind away from the worst case scenario's about his sisters safety, he made his way down the landing to her room. He didn't know what the hell the so-called clues were he was supposed to be looking for, he just figured that it would be anything out of the ordinary.
He paused outside his sister's room, his natural instincts being to check the coast was clear before entering forbidden territory – if Flick knew he'd been snooping around her room she'd hang him by the balls. When the house remained silent bar the odd creak of the old, rusting pipes, he twisted the door handle and stepped into the room.
A flash of movement in the closet had his heart thundering in his ears. "Flick?" he whispered, suddenly uncertain as the hair's on his arms stood on end as if he'd just walked into a lion's den, the unseen predator hidden out of sight leaving his danger signals firing on all cylinders.
"Trespassing on your sister's personal space – naughty boy," an unfamiliar voice answered with a tut and Sam's blood turned to ice in his veins. He froze in place when a vaguely familiar figure emerged from his sister's closet holding a roughly packed hold-all and every nerve in Sam's body screamed at him to run and run fast when the man's piercing blue eyes fixed him with a cold, calculated stare. Realisation quickly dawned on him and he swallowed thickly, a lump of fear already forming in his throat.
He was one of them, one of the bloodsuckers...
"What are you doing and why are you taking my sister's stuff?" Sam asked, attempting to sound at least slightly confident yet failing miserably when his voice cracked, eliciting a smirk of amusement from the platinum blonde immortal.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he scoffed, returning to the closet, yanking clothes off the hangers lining the rail in favour of loading them into the bag. "Any idea where your sister keeps her underwear?" he arched his brow, eyeing the chest of draws behind Sam.
"Where is she? Did she send you here?" Sam interrogated, darting back when the platinum blonde strode toward him, his admittedly powerful presence seeming to suck all the air out of both the room and Sam's lungs.
"She's home-" he glanced over his shoulder at Sam before turning his attention back to the task in hand, "-and no, she didn't send me, her boyfriend did – he would have come himself but he was afraid if he ran into your brother he'd be on death row on murder charges," he countered nonchalantly as he rummaged through Flick's drawers, tossing additional items into the bag.
"Home? This is her home!" Sam retorted with as much confidence as he could muster.
"Not anymore."
"I know what you are you know-" Sam stated, his voice wavering slightly.
"-Oh, you do, do you?" the immortal smirked, arching his brow, amused.
"Yeah I do-" Sam nodded, "-and I know what you're doing. You're trying to take her away from us. You're controlling her, making her think she's safe when in the end you're just gonna... you're just gonna-"
"-We're going to what?" the platinum blonde provoked.
"-You're gonna kill her, just like you've killed all those other people but I won't let you do that asshole, you leave my sister alone or I'll-"
The words primed on the tip of his tongue got stuck in his throat when he found himself slammed against the wall, pinned by his throat as the leader of the Lost Boys towered over him, glaring at him with hateful anger. "-You'll what?" he hissed menacingly, "-cry to mommy? Or maybe you'll try and play the big man with Rambo and private dipshit? You little assholes think you know everything but you don't know shit. I suggest you run-along and stick to playing the hero in your video-games because let me tell you something little boy, reality isn't anything like that make-believe bullshit world you sad fucks dream about."
Sam pushed against the hand that held him in place but the immortals grip was vice-like, one wrong move and additional pressure and he'd crush his windpipe with startling ease. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got better things to do than route through your sisters knicker draw and listen to your snivelling whining," he snarled, releasing his hold.
Sam gasped, sucking in air so fast it made him choke.
"Consider this a warning, I'm done playing nice, next time I won't be so merciful," the platinum blonde spoke coldly before leaving Sam stood frozen in fear, the ghost of the immortals hand still wrapped around his throat.
David slipped into the old, battered phonebooth, his nose wrinkling in disgust when the strong odour of stale urine burnt his nostrils. "Fucking dregs..." he cursed under his breath with a sharp exhale. He lit himself a cigarette, the scent of singed tobacco masking the other foul odours permeating the small space enough for him to concentrate. He peered through the gaps in the graffiti covered glass, scanning the boardwalk for any sign of Dwayne, Marko or Paul but found them all out of sight, he couldn't sense them either but he doubted that Paul would leave Flick at the cave alone for too long.
David's eyes drifted from a gaggle of rough-housing teenage boys to a chubby woman, he'd say in her early twenties clad in a strappy, tight-fitted black dress that showcased voluptuous sun-kissed flesh and his mouth watered. The thought of sinking his fangs into such butter soft flesh and feasting on her sweet life-force while he buried himself deep in her hot, wet heat made his sleeping cock twitch.
He watched her for a few moments, observing how she hung back slightly from her group of friends, tugging at the skirt of her dress, clearly self-conscious, knowing she was considered the 'fat friend' amongst her peers. Though he pitied anyone that felt inferior because of such an inconsequential fact of nature, he couldn't help but smirk that her obvious lack of self-esteem would work very well in his favour. All he'd need to do is pay her some attention, perhaps throw in a few compliments and she'd be putty in his hands. He memorized her face, making a mental note to find her once he'd finished the task at hand.
Shaking off his carnal urges, David focused his attention on the tattered phonebook resting on the scratched shelf beneath the payphone. He flipped through the partially ripped and charred pages until he found the number he was looking for. His brows furrowed as he stared at the printed collection of digits as he brought the smouldering cigarette to his lips, inhaling a deep drag. Shit was starting to get complicated and there was nothing more he hated than complications. Complications lead to risks, risks that could bring harm to his pack and though he may be a cold son-of-a-bitch with a heart of stone -or so everyone thought- he was loyal to his pack and he'd do whatever he could to protect them.
He knew that Felicity was unsure about him and he knew that she would likely hate him for a while for involving her little brother in what he was about to do but her little brother was a risk now that he was running with the dork brothers and risks had to be eliminated. Besides, it wasn't like he was hurting anyone, he could have squeezed the life out of the little shit back at the house but he'd managed to reign in his temper. This was merely a distraction, a way to keep him and the two wannabe vampire slayers from sniffing around him and his pack for awhile. David shrugged, she'd come around once she realised he'd done what he was about to do for the right reasons and if she didn't, well he was used to being disliked, it wasn't like what people thought of him bothered him in the slightest – not anymore.
He scanned the page of the phonebook one last time, memorizing the number before raising his hand to the keypad, dialling the number and listening to the monotonous drone of the dial tone. "Hello, Child Protective Services, how can I help you?" an overly polite female voice chimed down the line.
"Hi, I'd like to report a case of child abuse..." David replied, his finger's drumming against the keypad.
Flick's head snapped up when she heard the distinct sound of footsteps on the incline as if whoever the footsteps belonged to were purposely trying to be heard. The sound of the storm had drown out the sound of the approaching bike engine and if it wasn't for loud movement's announcing someone's arrival, she would have never realised she was no longer alone. She was slightly startled when she saw it was David who had returned, she'd never really been alone with the stoic vampire and she wasn't so sure how she should act around him.
"I didn't take particular outfits into consideration, I just grabbed whatever was in reach so my sincerest apologies if your shirt doesn't match your pants," David stated sarcastically, dumping an over-stuffed hold-all by the side of the bed. "Oh-" he added, pausing mid-step, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk, "-I promise I didn't look too hard at the contents of your underwear drawer," he grinned and Flick felt her face flush with heat, wishing that Paul had been the one to grab her some clothes and not the smirking platinum blonde.
When Flick didn't show any sign of amusement only a burning embarrassment, David sighed, his smirk fading as he slumped down on the couch with a beer and a cigarette. "I was joking-" he glanced in her direction, his head cocked to the side, "-we're going to be in close quarters of one another from now on, perhaps you should trust me a little more."
"Trust you?-" Flick retorted incredulous, "-shouldn't I be saying that to you? I'm the one in limbo here, I don't know where I stand with you even though I've done everything I can to show you that I'm loyal to Paul – to the pack."
"Touché-" David nodded taking a sip of his beer, "-but I counter that you haven't done everything," he arched his brow pointedly.
"You mean because I'm not officially part of the pack, right?" she asked for clarification receiving a single nod. "You don't want much, do you?" she scoffed, rubbing her aching wrist.
David barked a laugh, resting his head back against the couch cushions. It was the first time she'd seen the stoic immortal looking anywhere close to relaxed and it was honestly unnerving her a little. "What can I say, I'm hard to please," he grinned wickedly and Flick huffed a laugh.
"You not joining the boys tonight?" she asked after a brief lull in conversation.
"Not tonight – I have other plans," he replied cryptically, his eyes flickering with hunger and Flick's heart started to race. David smirked. "Don't worry, these particular plans don't involve you-" he chuckled, "-you're not my type – no offence," he added with a shrug.
Flick laughed. "None taken-" she dismissed, "-so who is your type?" she quizzed curiously, trying to imagine the kind of girl who'd attract David's attention.
"You really wanna know?"
"Sure," she nodded.
"I like a girl with a little more meat on her bones," he grinned devilishly and Flick's brows arched in surprise.
"Really? I thought you were gonna give the standard blonde hair, blue eyes, toned and sun-kissed reply," she admitted.
"California girls are vapid creatures-" he screwed up his face in distaste, "-conceited, self-centred airheads with nothing to offer aside from a perky pair of tits and a firm ass. I prefer a girl with a personality, someone who I can have a conversation with. Plus there's something about the feel of soft skin rather than muscle or bone that I find more enjoyable."
"What's the point in looking for conversation when you're just gonna kill her anyway?" Flick frowned.
"I don't kill everyone I sleep with-" he shook his head, "-if I meet a girl here on vacation and I like her company then I'll see her for the duration of her vacation, it's not like I get attached to them, it's just rare I find someone I connect with."
"Wow, I've really gotten you all wrong," she confessed guiltily.
David laughed. "You're not the first and you won't be the last, it doesn't bother me."
"Well for the record – I'm sorry," she smiled, feeling more at ease in David's company.
"Most gracious of you Felicity," he smirked, grinning when she scowled and flipped him the middle finger. After a moment of comfortable silence had passed, David drained the remainder of his beer and cleared his throat. "In all seriousness, I actually wanted to speak to you about something..."
"You did?" her eyes widened in surprise.
He nodded. "I saw how upset you were earlier and from the empty bottle of bourbon and the scattered pills Paul had so thoughtfully kicked beneath the bed rather than picking them up like a functioning human, I know what you were at least contemplating..."
Flick's cheeks heated in shame.
"I want you to know that you shouldn't let anyone make you feel so worthless that you'd contemplate ending your own life-" he stated, "-you are not the problem, they are and once you realise that, the world is your playground."
"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.
"Once you stop living within the constraints of other peoples opinions and trying to live up to their expectations and you start being who you want to be, you'll find you actually enjoy life rather than chasing temporary highs and feeling guilty for the choices you make during the inevitable comedown," he explained.
"Regardless of what people think, family doesn't equal unconditional love and sometimes we have to find our own family, the people who were destined to accept us for the fucked up, lost souls that we are. This is your opportunity to be part of a family that accept you for who you are without conditions, it's up to you whether you take that opportunity or you run back to the people that will never accept you, that will never be anything but resentful towards you."
"I get what you're saying David but it's not easy to just forget and move on, it hurts to hear your own mother blame you for her misery, to hear her tell you she's done with you," she countered, swallowing around the lump in her throat.
"I know-" he nodded sincerely, "-you're not the only one whose experienced such pain Flick and that's why I can sit here and give you this advice because whether you believe me or not, there was a time that I felt exactly like you do now, perhaps more so."
"There was?" she whispered, flawed.
"Yes-" he exhaled, "-do you promise to keep this conversation between the two of us?"
"I promise," she nodded honestly.
David regarded her for a moment before he began to speak. "In my case it was my father. In a word – he was a complete bastard. I hated him with every fibre of my being. He was a hateful prick and as if abusing my mother wasn't enough, when I came along I was just another thing for him to hate, to blame and to abuse."
"He always used to call me a little faggot when I struggled to help him with manual labour – we owned a farm-" he clarified before continuing, "-I was a kid, the haybales and feed sacks were fucking bigger than I was. My mother got sick when I was around ten – cancer – and cancer in those days was a death sentence no matter what stage you were at."
"It got to the point that was on the verge of dying, she was so sick and in pain but my bastard father never stopped berated and shaming her, he never showed any mercy. I couldn't see her suffering and stole a bunch of opiates from the town pharmacy to try and help ease her pain, you know? But my dad caught me and marched me back to town, shaming me in front of everyone. From then on I was known as the 'troubled kid' and the 'good-for-nothing delinquent'. My mother died a little before my eleventh birthday..."
David fell silent, his eyes focused on something unseen before he exhaled slowly and continued. "With my mother gone I was left with a father and a town that hated me and spent most of my time alone or recovering from my father's abuse. Whenever anything went wrong around town it was always me even when I wasn't anywhere near the damn place – not that my father gave a shit, it was just another excuse for him to beat my ass."
"I rarely went to school, I didn't see the point. Constantly being told your worthless, that you're a fucking little faggot who'll never amount to anything and the world would be better off without me started to stick in my mind and I started to believe it. By the time I was seventeen I knew that if my father didn't kill me, I'd kill myself. At least that's what I thought until I met Jenny, the new girl in town. We met randomly one day down by the river and hit it off, we didn't have much in common but it didn't matter, there was something there, you know?"
"Anyway, our friendship developed into something more and one night when my dad was out at some dive bar getting shit-faced, Jenny came over and we slept together. Back then you didn't do shit like that before marriage without getting a reputation as the town bike and we had to make sure no one found out. We'd sneak out at night to meet and mess around by the river, this went on for a few months and I honestly thought I fucking loved this chick…"
"Then, slowly, she started to make friends and she heard the rumours about me - that I was a thief, that I was a thug, an illiterate delinquent who was out stealing opiates to get high whilst his poor mother lay dying. Of course, she believed them, she didn't give me the chance to explain or prove to her that it was all a crock of fucking shit. Then, to put the icing on the fucking cake, the fucking bitch went and told some of her friends that I'd raped her. She was so full of shame and regret that she'd screwed such a supposed freak that she accused me of raping her. She said I'd lured her down into the woods, ripped off her clothes and raped her."
"My father found out about the accusation and he fucked me up good. I could barely walk by the time he'd finished with me. Later that night, the towns people turned up as a fucking mob yelling and hollering that I should be hung for my supposed crime. They wanted to see me dead Flick. They wanted me to die for something I didn't do, they were that blinded by hatred that held no truth. So, I did the only thing I could do, I pulled myself up off the floor, grabbed a few clothes and fucking legged it out the back, across the field and out of fucking town. I spent two years on the run before I ended up here in Santa Carla. It was just some run down coastal town back then, it had none of the shit you see here now and that's when I met Max. He was the one who gave me immortality, who gave me the chance to start over. He didn't give a shit about my past, he just saw some broken kid and offered him the opportunity to get his revenge on the world for how it'd treated him and with nothing to lose, I accepted his offer."
"After a few months, Max told me he was heading back to Salem, apparently he'd grown tired of my incompetency, he'd grown tired of my tears and inability to mercilessly slaughter people. He told me I wasn't welcome and that I should find my own way in life. He claimed my father had been right -that I was worthless sack of shit- wished me the best of luck and vanished."
"That was the final straw for me. Max's rejection just seemed to trigger my mind to snap. I vowed from that day on that I would never let anyone hurt me again, that I wouldn't let anyone call me worthless or weak. I vowed to build myself into something twisted and filled with hate, unwilling to let the world beat or break me any further. I started to kill; violently, mercilessly and callously. At first, I still struggled, I still had that whisper of humanity in me -that whisper of weakness- but after a few months it had all but disappeared and I was just an empty shell, fuelled by the desire to hurt the world as much as the world had hurt me."
"When I met the boys –Dwayne was the first, a decade after my death- they were the first people that I showed any compassion or understanding, everyone else was a target, everyone else could go and get fucked but those three assholes became my family. They were the first people to show me any compassion as well."
"So, I guess the moral of the story is don't let the world and the people in it fuck you over. Don't let anyone change the person you are. It's too late for me, I let the world break me, but it's not too late for you."
Flick watched David in bewilderment as he rose to his feet and crossed the cavern. He momentarily faded out of sight, his black-clad figure blending with the shadows before he once again emerged and her eyes were immediately drawn to the bottle he now held in his hand. The bottle was encased in heavy silver, decorated in rubies and square-cut emeralds that glinted in the candle-light. He came to a stop beside the bed and held out the bottle in offering.
She reached out and cautiously took the bottle feeling it's heavy weight in her hands. As she studied the bejewelled bottle more closely, she saw that it contained what looked like a thick, deep -almost black- liquid that sloshed against the insides of the glass, staining it crimson. She looked between David and the bottle, her mind coming to a stuttering, dizzying halt when realisation dawned on her. "Is that-"
"-Blood," David nodded. "
"Human blood?" she swallowed thickly.
"No-" he shook his head, "-mine."
Flick's eyes widened as her eyes once again drifted to the contents of the bottle.
"This is your chance to give the world that beat you down the middle finger. This is your opportunity to stay true to who you are. This is your chance not to turn out like me – cold, bitter and angry at the world. All you need to do is drink and you become one of us. Untouchable, invincible... immortal..."
"I drink this and I'm a vampire?" she asked, flawed.
"Not completely, you'll be a hybrid – half-human, half immortal-" he explained, "-it's a step towards freedom, the choice is yours Flick," he stated before turning and heading towards the incline.
"Wait, where are you going?" she frowned, her head spinning from her unexpected heart-to-heart with the platinum blonde.
"I have a date," he smirked over his shoulder.
"You do?"
"Sure, she just doesn't know it yet," he chuckled before disappearing into the night.
David stepped into the bar, his eyes tracking the crowded space for the source of the scent that was currently setting his skin on fire. His predatory instincts drew his attention to the back of the bar where tucked in a booth hidden by shadows was the girl that had caught his eye earlier on the boardwalk only now she was alone, her friends practically straddling the laps of a group of rowdy friends in the next booth over.
He ordered himself a drink, propping himself at the bar as he observed the inhabitants of the dingy sweatbox. He watched in silent distaste as a woman clad in a skin-tight red dress teeter across the bar, the repetitive click of her heels irritatingly echoing in his mind. David continued to observe the woman as she approached a table manned by a sole trucker, his greasy hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, his jaw covered in a weeks worth of unkempt stubble. The women he was pretty certain was a lot lizard leant forward, resting her hands palms down on the sticky table top and arched her back to push out her ass while her breasts dropped to the mans eye level. The trucker licked his lips, his salacious leer trained on her breasts as she purred words of reverence in a seductively throaty voice, luring the nameless trucker to his feet as he drained the last dregs of his beer and followed her out of the bard like an obedient puppy, his mouth practically salivating with thoughts of her naked, writhing body beneath him.
David scoffed in disgust, his eyes roaming back to the booth where the abandoned girl sat forlornly, her eyes anxiously searching the crowds, almost as if she was afraid to be noticed. She caught David staring at her and her face flushed crimson, her big, hazel doe eyes dropping to the empty glass set on the table in front of her. Unable to resist the lure of such an unassumingly alluring woman, David weaved his way through the sweaty, dense sea of bodies, making a bee-line for the back of the bar where she sat nervously shuffling in her seat.
"Hi," David drawled, cocking his head with a genuine smile.
"Hi," the girl swallowed, gripping the edge of her sear uneasily. He heard her thoughts, her mind running wild as her instincts kicked in, warning her that danger was imminant, her subconscious screaming at her to run and run fast. David softened his features in a bid to put her at ease rather than leaving her feeling like a cornered animal. He saw the thin sheen of sweat break out on her brow, noting the tiny droplets of perspiration trickling down her face. The girl blinked when a stray bread of sweat found it's way into her eye as she licked her parched lips waiting for him to make his next move.
"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked amiably, gesturing to her empty glass.
"I- uh..." she stammered, clearly not used to the attention.
"C'mon, I can't possibly let the most beautiful woman in the bar without a drink or company," he crooned, enjoying the way her cheeks flushed shyly, her eyes flickering with a glimmer of happiness and he was momentarily overcome with a wave of melancholy, sad to think that she was so starved of affection that such a small inconsequential comment could make her light-up so beautifully.
"OK, sure," she smiled coyly, brushing her hair behind her ear.
"What's your poison?"
"Whiskey on the rocks with a twist," she replied gratefully.
"My kind of girl," he winked, turning back towards the bar, stealthily snaking through the crowds.
"Orders up," he drawled, sliding two tumblers of whiskey onto the table as he slid into the booth.
"Thank you," she murmured shyly, peering up at him from beneath thick lush lashes.
"I haven't even told you one of my award-winning anecdotes and you're already on the edge of your seat," he smiled, eyeing her curiously. "You can't be very comfortable," he commented and she gave him an awkward smile, sliding closer to where he sat.
He cleared his throat as he reached for his drink, absentmindedly swirling the rich amber liquid against the sides of the glass. "My apologies, I should have introduced myself before-" he gave her an apologetic smile, "-I'm David, and you are?"
"Sophia," she introduced herself.
"So, Sophia, what's a girl like you doing in a dive like this?" he gestured to their shabby surroundings and the bars less than reputable clientele.
"My friends met some guys at the club and we ended up here," she replied, her eyes drifting to the booth housing a group of rowdy drunks, the giggling girls enjoying being pawed at by the overzealous men they'd lured with their short skirts and low-riding tops.
"And you're sat here alone because...?" he pried, already knowing the reason but wanting her to feel as though he cared. He caught her eyes, her hazel irises glittering sadly in the low light and a flare of heat made his chest feel tight. Perhaps he did care? Perhaps there was something about the girl that struck a chord with him for once upon a time he'd been the outcast just like her, unwanted, unloved, ignored.
"I guess I didn't want to get in the way..." she admitted and David caught the scent of the emotions brought on by her confession – a mixture of pungent day old sweat and the invasive, acrid scent of burning rubber and found himself wanting to ease the shame she felt burning a black hole in her heart. He'd initially been full of anger and deep-seated rage on leaving the cave due to the hurricane of buried feelings talking about his past had brought back to the surface and he'd been intent on finding the girl purely to feast on her blood. However, he quickly found himself wondering if connecting with such a lost soul would bring him a different kind of inner peace, the kind of inner peace that a merciless kill just couldn't reach.
"Friends shouldn't make you feel like you get in the way, you know that, don't you?" David tilted his head, the tips of his fingers tracing the rim of his glass.
Sophia nodded, her bottom lip working it's way between her teeth as she took a sip of her drink, averting her eyes.
"I don't know about you but this place is making my skin crawl, do you want to take a walk?" he offered, throwing back the remainder of his drink.
He heard the unspoken thoughts whirring in her mind. Thoughts about whether she should just a stranger. Thoughts on whether he was just going to lure her down a dark alley and rape her. A flare of anger stirred in his core. He couldn't necessarily blame the girl for having common-sense and thinking such things but it didn't stop such assumptions from leaving their stinging mark under his skin. The flicker of anger faded a little when her sinister thoughts were over-ridden by a glimmer of trust and she gave him a shy smile.
"Sure, I'd like that," she agreed, trailing him out of the bar.
Flick sat in the middle of the bed staring at the bejewelled bottle nestled in her lap still completely flawed by her conversation with David. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected the stoic platinum blonde to trust her with the story of his past life, nor did she ever expect him to seem as though he genuinely cared about her well-being. She might have thought the whole conversation and resulting offer of immortality was just a ploy for her to take the next step in joining the pack, a way for him to manipulate her emotions and feed off of her fragile mental stated. Yet there'd been a softness in his eyes, a flicker of deep-rooted hurt and regret that told her that he was being sincere.
He'd been a completely different person to the cold, calculating, emotionless robot she was accustomed to and she found herself feeling guilty for making such snap judgements about him. Listening to what lead to him becoming the man he is now made that guilt even stronger knowing how he'd been beaten down by the world and everyone in it until he'd built himself into the person he is now. She could imagine the man he was as a human and she felt a flood of sadness wash over her knowing that he was never going to be that person again. She found herself wondering what would happen if he found his mate, would she be able to break through the steel fortress he'd built in his mind or would she suffer the same fate as everyone else and only live to know David for who he was now – cold, bitter and angry at the world.
Flick sighed. She didn't want to be like David. She didn't want to lose the part of her that loved, that cared, that felt happiness, that craved adventure. She didn't want to lose the part of her that was care-free and spirited, the part of her own mother seemed to resent to the point that she'd washed her hands of her. She swallowed, the lump of hurt in her throat that had started to lesson once again grew, threatening to gasping for breath.
Why couldn't her family love her for who she was? The good, the bad and the batshit crazy?
Pushing the oppressive thoughts to the back of her mind, Flick turned her attention to the bottle in her lap, reaching for the cork with fingers that trembled with nerves. She tugged the cork, releasing it from the neck of the bottle with a loud 'pop'. She tentatively lifted the bottle, bringing it in line with her nose and gave it a curious sniff. The heady scent of sweet musk and frankincense flooded her senses and she was momentarily left light-headed. David's blood was potent and undeniably tempting, so much so that without realising the movements of her own hands, she felt the cool ridge of the bottle press against her lips, startling her. She swiftly withdrew the bottle from her mouth, stuffing the cork back in place before she was overcome with any further bouts of temptation. It wasn't necessarily that she didn't want to take the next step, it was more the issue of not wanting to do it alone.
"Babe, what're you doing?" Paul's voice almost had her jumping out of her skin.
"Shit Paul, you scared me," she exhaled, clutching her chest.
"Sorry-" he smiled guiltily, "-what're you doing?" he repeated the question, his eyes nervously darting to the bottle she still held in her hand.
"Nothing."
"You didn't drink any of that did you?" he asked anxiously.
"Why?" she cocked her head, toying with him.
"I-" he flustered and Flick felt guilty when she saw that he was genuinely panicking.
"-I know what it is Paul and I didn't drink any – nice to know how you feel about it though," she sighed.
"David-" he scowled, running a hand through his hair, "-that son-of-a-bitch."
"Don't be angry with him Paul, he was actually trying to help," Flick defended the platinum blonde.
"Trying to help? How? By manipulating and tricking you into drinking blood? What, did he tell you it was red wine?" he laughed bitterly, clearly disbelieving his friends intentions were good.
"No, he told me it was blood – his blood-" she clarified, "-and he told me what would happen if I drink it."
Paul frowned. "He told you?"
"Yeah-" she nodded, "-like I said, he was trying to help. He told me that this was my chance to give the middle finger to the world that's beat me down, my chance to stay true to who I am – or something along those lines, I don't know, my heads still hazy from the bourbon," she narrated, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Did he tell you there's no going back once you take that step? Did he tell you that from the moment you drink that-" he pointed to the bottle, "-you'll feel the pain of the thirst just like the rest of us? Did he tell you what it will take to become fully immortal?"
"No, you did, remember? The night you claimed me? You told me that to become fully immortal I'd have to drink human blood."
Paul's eyes flickered with recognition and he exhaled slowly, dragging his hands down his face. "I can't believe how casual you're being about this babe – you were fucked up the other night from seeing that side of us and now you're acting like becoming one of us is no big fucking deal."
"Hey, that only fucked me up because I was unprepared for it-" she argued, "-and becoming one of you was the plan eventually, right? Well, maybe now's the right time, I mean, you guys are my only family now, what's the point in prolonging things?"
Paul dropped to his knees in-front of her, pulling her towards him as he guided her legs around his shoulders and his arms around her hips. "Babe-" he murmured against her navel, "-you know how much I want you to do it but what if you do it now when you're upset and then you regret it? There's no way out, you'd just start to hate me and I don't think I could live with you hating me."
"I could never hate you Paul," Flick smiled sadly, combing her finger's through his wild hair.
"You say that now but-"
"-Paul look at me-" she urged and he lifted his head, his pale grey eyes meeting her own, "-you're it for me. I'd be lost without you. You're my family now and I want to feel more of a part of it. I don't want to feel like the outsider anymore. You and the guys are the only ones that accept me for me, why would I wanna walk away from that? I wanna stay, I wanna do this – it's my decision."
"You'll have to kill Flick," he whispered, his brows furrowed.
She swallowed with a nod, her stomach churning. "I know and that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make – for you."
"No-" Paul shook his head, sitting back on his heels, "-I don't want you to do it for me, you have to do it because it's what you want."
Flick smiled. "You're part of me Paul, I'm doing it for us."
Paul smirked, his smirk morphing into a toothy grin. "You sappy shit."
"Fuck you," she giggled.
"Fuck me yourself you coward," he countered, a smug smirk on his face.
"You should be so lucky," she returned his smirk, squealing girlishly when he pounced on her, pinning her beneath him on the bed and prised the bottle from her hands.
"Don't drink this," he uttered.
"What?" she frowned, confused.
"Drink mine," he breathed against the outer shell of her ear sending shivers racing down her spine.
David observed Sophia as she stood at the edge of the shore, smiling wistfully as the waves lapped at her bare ankles before her eyes drifted to the midnight sky, the star-studded canvas lit up in vivid shades of violet as cracks of thunder and violent flashes of fork lightning lit up the horizon. "There's something hauntingly beautiful about it, isn't there?" she mused aloud, her eyes still trained on the stormy horizon.
A sudden booming clap of thunder brought with it a burst of freezing torrential rain. "Still think it's beautiful?" David laughed, wrapping his jacket around her shoulders eliciting a shy smile. "I should get you out of the rain, are you hungry?" he offered.
Sophia shook her head, her eyes drifting to his lips and he had to stifle his smirk. "Do you want to come back to the hotel for coffee?" she asked nervously.
"More than anything," he drawled and he heard her heart race.
"Thank you," David smiled gratefully when Sophia offered him a towel.
"Coffee-" she stammered nervously, "-should I order room service?"
"I'm fine – unless you wanted to order for yourself?" he arched his brow, finding her nervous disposition charming rather than irritating.
"No I'm fine," she replied. "I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this..." she added after a brief moment of silence.
"Not very good at what? Conversation?-" he chuckled, "-you've done well so far, if you want I can write you a letter of recommendation, you know for future references?"
Sophia laughed seeming to relax a little.
"This room must have cost a fortune," David mused.
"It was a gift from my parents - I mean the whole vacation was ," she explained as she stood awkwardly across the room.
"What was the occasion?" he asked as he strolled across the luxurious suite, the carpet beneath his bare feet soft and padded. "Birthday?" he guessed, tentatively closing the space between the two of them.
"No-" she smiled, "-I just graduated college."
"Really? Brains and beauty, you're the whole package aren't you," he drawled, grazing the tips of his fingers down the length of her arm.
Sophia shuddered, her cheeks flushing with heat.
"What did you study?" he inquired.
"Law," she answered, her nerves getting the best of her when his hands drifted to her waist and she turned away, her cheeks aflame.
Rather than losing his patience, David found himself evermore attracted to her. There was an innocence to her that lured him in and the way she so obviously doubted herself and her appeal made him want to show her just how desirable she was even if he did have to work a little harder.
"What do you think this paintings supposed to symbolise?" she asked, gesturing to the artwork depicting a pair of lovers. A pair of wings grew from the man's back as he crouched over his female companion sprawled beneath him. David knew she was trying to distract herself from the feelings she was too nervous to explore and he decided that perhaps he could make a little lesson in mythology work to his advantage.
"It's a painted replica of the sculpture found at the Louvre Museum in Paris. Psyche's Revival by Cupid – are you familiar with the story?" he spoke softly.
"No, can you maybe tell it to me?" she replied, her breath hitching when David moved to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He brushed her damp hair over one shoulder, nuzzling the newly exposed skin of her neck, breathing in the enticing scent of her blood -spiced peaches- as she let out a soft hum and settled back against him.
"It all started with a relatively unknown king and queen who bore three very beautiful daughters. The daughter's were so beautiful that they made the goddess Venus jealous and in a fit of jealous rage, she commanded her son Cupid to impale the most beautiful of the daughters with an arrow," he narrated.
"Cupids arrows were said to have the power to make someone instantly fall in love with the first thing they happen to see and it was Venus's plan that she make Psyche -the most beautiful of the three daughter's- fall in love with a hideous monster. However, as fate would have it, Cupid accidently injured himself with the arrow in the process and he himself fell in love with Psyche instead."
"Oh how the tables turned," she mused, wholly caught up in the saga, her fingers trailing over his wrists in slow, seductive circles.
"The King soon discovered that his family was cursed by the Gods and he sought out a prophetess. This particular oracle told him of his daughter Psyche's fate, that she was to be devoured by a giant beast. So, her parents seeking to appease the Gods, chained her to a cliff-"
"-Someone call child services," Sophia joked, laughing lightly, seeming to be much more relaxed.
David chuckled, ghosting his lips down the length of her neck eliciting a hitch of breath before continuing. "However, instead of meeting her death there on the cliff, she was carried away by a great wind to a beautiful palace where Cupid visited her bed in the secret cover of darkness."
"Oh?" she murmured and David sensed the air around them charge, as though a fuse had been lit, sparking the countdown to something explosive.
"Yes, he hid her away against his mother's will and made her his bride," David's cool breath tickled the hairs at the nape of her neck, sending shivers racing down her spine. His hand teasingly roamed her body, working their way across her ribs to brush the underside of her breasts causing her nipples to stiffen in response to his featherlight touch. Her lips parted, her breath quickening as he felt her whole body flood with heat. David's hands continued to wander the curves of her body while he went back to narrating the story.
"Psyche's two sisters upon hearing of her good fortune and visiting her, began to poison her mind with the idea that her night-time lover must be the great beat who the oracle foretold would devour her."
"Talk about sibling rivalry," Sophia murmured distractedly when he ghosted a kiss to the sensitive skin of her neck. She hummed and arched her head back against his shoulder, allowing him better access to the spot his lips eagerly sought. He scented her arousal, it was sweet, musky and deliciously seductive and he knew that if he were to graze his hands between her legs he'd find her underwear damp with desire. With newfound confidence, Sophia reached for his hand that rested by her navel, guiding it upward until it covered her breast where his thumb skimmed the peaked bud straining against the rain dampened fabric of her dress.
"That night Psyche brought an oil and dagger to her bed, intending to kill the beast and escape her supposed fate. So, when Cupid fell asleep after making love to her, Psyche lit the lamp and gazed upon him, seeing that he was actually beautiful."
Sophia's breath hitched when David rolled his fingers over the sensitive nub through her dress, knowing how much she craved to feel his touch on her bare skin. She reached back and cradled the nape of his neck, teasing the sensitive strip of skin where his earlobe met his neck with the pad of her thumb. David's breath quickened and she tilted her head, ghosting her lips across the underside of his jaw.
Admittedly a little distractedly this time, David continued. "As she gazed down on her lover's naked, sleeping form, she spilt the hot oil from the lamp on him, burning him and he fled from her in fear and pain. Psyche was then left to wander the earth, seeking her lover all around the world. In her desperation, she even sought the help of other Goddesses but she was turned away each time as they knew that she was cursed and none of them wished to incur Venus's jealous wrath.
Sophia let her hand fall from the nape of his neck to reach behind her, grasping his thigh and David moaned against her ear, fondling her breasts more impassionedly. His mouth latched onto the sensitive juncture of her neck and shoulder, biting down lightly. Sophia moaned and arched into the sensation of his teeth applying gentle pressure to her skin, digging her fingers into the taut muscle of his thigh and David had to use all his restraint not to sink his fangs into her butter-soft flesh and taste her. He rocked against her, pulling her tighter against him.
"What happened then?" she whispered breathily.
David released her neck, trailing his tongue over the spot he'd bitten, making her shudder. "Huh?" he mumbled, confused.
"The story..." she reminded.
"Ah..." he smirked, sliding his hand down her body, his fingers hooking beneath the skirt of her dress, the soft, damp material gliding up over her thighs along with the pads of his fingers. With one hand teasingly rubbing the skirt of her dress across her upper thigh, his free hand moved back to her breast, skimming her stiff bud in a way that made her skin flush with heat. David palmed her breast while his thumb stroked her inner thigh as he whispered huskily in her ear. "Psyche learned that she'd angered Venus and so she prayed to the Goddess for help. Venus, subdued by the beautiful woman's prayers answered her and agreed to forgive Psyche on the condition that Psyche travel to the underworld and retrieve a portion of Queen Persephone's beauty."
"Psyche wanted to please the Goddess and did as she was asked, only on her return home she was tempted to take the beauty for herself and opened the bottle concealing the portion of beauty she'd pilfered. However, there was a spell set on the bottle and she fell into a deep sleep in the wilderness. The statue which this painting is based on depicts the moment of her awakening by her lover – Cupid. Do you see how they look at one another with longing and lust?"
Sophia tightened her hold on his thigh and urged him closer, his stiff cock digging into the soft flesh of her ass. He rolled her nipple between his fingers, pinching the peaked flesh lightly and she moaned in response. "How does it end?" she murmured, her voice low and her breath uneven.
"The end or so the story goes, states that Zeus the King of God's grants Cupid the right to marry his daughter. Psyche is permitted to drink ambrosia at their wedding feast and as such, she gains immortality and joins him in the heavens-" he narrated, "-speaking of heavens..." he drawled, grazing his teeth down the length of her neck while hiking the skirt of her dress up onto her hips.
Sophia gasped, her breath catching in her throat when the hand that had been fondling her breast inched down her body to slip between her legs, tearing at her underwear, the damp lacy fabric laying scattered by her feet. "How about we write our own story of unbridled pleasure and untamed lust? Judging by the way your need is dripping through my fingers I'd say you know something about it," David crooned, teasing her slick folds with deft fingers. A low whimper escaped her when his mouth sought the exposed plain of her neck while his fingers teased apart her folds to tease the bundle of nerves hidden within.
"Oh..." she moaned, completely at his mercy.
"I crave you Sophia-" the sound of metal grinding against metal filled the silence alongside Sophia's panting breaths. She cried out with pleasure when he entered her, his cock burrowing deep inside her warm, wet heat while his fingers stroked her bundle of nerves, "-you in your own right, are a Goddess," he breathed against her ear.
David reluctantly removed himself from her heat and turned her in his arms, lifting her up onto his hips, making his way towards the bed, his mouth seeking the soft contours of her chest. He gently set her on the bed, entering her once more with one hard thrust eliciting a whimper of pleasure as she clawed at his shoulders. "Fuck..." he panted, feeling himself unravel as he buried himself deep while his tongue tasted the sweetness of her bare skin.
Flick gripped the bed frame behind her head and her back arched, her jaw dropping in a silent 'oh' as Paul's tongue teased her apex, the tips of his fingers grazing her calves. Paul crawled up her body, his mouth seeking her swollen lips while his hand inched up her bare thigh. Flick grazed her teeth over his bottom lip eliciting a throaty groan before she pushed him back, switching their position so he was propped against the bedframe and she was straddling his thighs.
Paul bit his lip hotly as his hands came to rest at the crease of her thighs, drawing her against him and she draped her arms over his shoulders. "I want you," he breathed against her ear and she shuddered. Flick lost herself in the way his mouth moulded to her own and the way her skin tingled and flushed whenever her body pressed against his. He groaned when her tongue slid between his lips, exploring him, tasting him, enticing him. Flick smirked, pulling back as she slowly pulled off her shirt, leaving her in her bra and knickers. Paul's eyes drifted to her breasts and she felt his cock nudge her apex.
Flick's heart pounded in her chest as she watched Paul reach into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a sleek, black switchblade. She bit her lip in anticipation as the blade of the knife curved outward with an audible click. "You sure this is what you want?" Paul asked, his grey eyes searching her face for any sign of doubt.
Her lips curved into a wicked smirk as her hand reached between them, teasingly rubbing the bulge straining against his zipper. "More than anything," she murmured against his neck, her lips ghosting the underside of his jaw earning a low moan.
Paul sat back, his eyes trained on her face, his mouth set in a devilish grin as he slashed the blade of his knife across his wrist, raising the bleeding wound to her mouth. Flick swallowed as the scent of Paul overwhelmed her and something primal inside her sparked to life. She caught his wrist in her hands, feeling the warm trickle of his blood seeping through her fingers as she covered the wound with her mouth and sucked. His blood was sweet and earthy, like the most exotic blend of spices and she hummed in satisfaction as the warm liquid trickled down her throat.
Paul's eyes flickered amber before they fluttered closed and his head fell back against his shoulders with a low growl. Flick released his arm, leaving it to flop by his side as she gripped his thighs in a bid to keep herself upright. Her head felt heavy, her limbs fuzzy and light as the cavern seemed to spin around her. She braced her hands on Paul's shoulders and leant forward, meeting his mouth with a desperate kiss. A rush of adrenaline ran full-circuit throughout her body while liquid fire rocketed through her veins setting her skin on fire. She reached to catch his wrists with blood stained fingers, bringing them to rest on her breasts.
She felt liberated and in control – it felt ridiculously good.
Paul brushed his thumbs over her stiff buds and she moaned against his mouth, pushing the heat between her legs against his erection. He buried his face against the crook of her neck, nipping and sucking her bare skin while he teased her breasts. Flick slid her hand between their bodies and brushed her fingers over his crotch. "I want you inside me..." she panted, gently biting his earlobe, loving the way he shuddered in response. She unbuckled his bed and tugged down his zipper, exposing him. Paul effortlessly ripped off her knickers and yanked her forward, her bare sex leaving his cock slick and sticky.
Flick braced her weight on his shoulders, raising her body before slowly lowering herself down onto him. Paul's groan of pleasure was cut off by her hungry kiss ass she rolled her hips forward. She hummed, her breath hitching when she took him deeper while Paul gripped her ass, his head lolling back as she rode him slow and hard. "Shit... don't stop..." he moaned as she rolled her hips faster.
Flick panted as her body began to tense and quiver and Paul tugged down her bra, taking her breast in his mouth and her back arched. "Paul..." she moaned, digging her nails into his shoulder, whimpering when the two of them reached their climax, their bodies slick with Paul's blood and her sweat. Paul slowly exhaled as Flick's head dropped to his shoulder and he held her against him, wrapping his arms around her back.
"Welcome to the pack Lost Girl," Paul murmured, his lips ghosting her sweat-slick skin.
Flick giggled euphorically, her head still spinning from the rush of Paul's blood in her veins. "Can I get that on a cake?" she joked, sitting back so she could see his face.
"How about I write it between your legs with my tongue?" he grinned, flipping her onto her back.