CHAPTER THREE
When I woke up, I nearly panicked. I couldn't remember where I was, covered with dew; the air ripe with the scent of roses. As their perfume filled my nose, last night flooded back to me. Now that it was light, I could see the color of them, a delicate pink, like a hint of blood on pale skin. There was no signs of Hitcoga. I had nearly forgotten about Connor. Had he run off?
I glanced around but he was no longer lying on the grass anywhere in sight. I was a little nervous about where Connor had gotten off to. I wasn't afraid, oddly enough. If Connor wanted me dead or captured, he had plenty of time while I was asleep.
I had to pee which was much more urgent than any fear. I've never peed in the woods before. How do you find a good spot? With my luck, I'd squat on poison ivy. I stood up, surprised I wasn't the least bit sore. Hitcoga's magic must have been powerful stuff. I headed for the river, figuring I'd have less chance of getting a rose up the butt there. When I got to the bank, I saw Connor's clothing hanging on a tree branch. A large knife rested not far away. I swallowed hard. I hadn't even realized he had that. He could have dismembered me with something that big and I realized how much Lilah had trusted him to do her bidding before Hitcoga's interference.
I looked out into the water and a few yards downstream; Connor was in an eddy, taking advantage of the slower moving water. He must have been sitting on the bottom as he scrubbed his head furiously. It slowly occurred to me I was looking at a naked man. Okay, I could only see him from the waist up, nothing I hadn't seen at the beach before but if he stood up...
I had never actually seen a naked man before. There had been a few close calls with Xander over the years and the time Andrew forgot to lock the bathroom door, but I didn't see anything, thank God. I watched Connor's muscles rippling as he tried to wash his hair, suddenly forgetting I needed to pee. Muscle, skin and bone, that's all there was to him. I wanted to take him somewhere and get him a huge piece of caramel cheesecake or something. I could count the knobs of his spine. I've never seen a man so thin, not even Spike. Still, my hormone-riddled body was telling me things it might like to do with him.
Wasn't he cold in that water? It was cool outside wherever we were. It certainly wasn't southern California. My mind flashed back to Xander and Andrew doing the 'shrinkage' scene from Seinfeld. Great, the first time I'll have ever seen a penis outside of the Playgirl's Maria had stashed in her locker and it was going to be shriveled from icy water.
I really should have been trying to find a place to pee or to follow the river and escape. Anything but standing and staring, but I couldn't help it. If I didn't move now, I was going to be so embarrassed if he saw me peeking at him.
He got up, wringing out his hair. It was longer than I liked on a guy. Good lord, he had no butt. There was just nothing to him. He turned around and I couldn't help but look. Why did it look like an elephant's nose? The tip was all floppy, wrinkled skin; is that was a foreskin looks like? It must be since I hadn't seen anything like it in Playgirl. For his sake, I hope shrinkage is real and not something guys tell themselves.
I glanced up into his face, feeling my own reddening. His pale face remained expressionless. I still didn't move even as he sloshed out of the water. He didn't appear to be embarrassed about being naked. It seemed like nude was simply natural to him. He didn't seem like he wanted to hurt me any more either since he made no menacing movements.
'Don't watch him walk, Dawn, cause with that thing swinging, it just looks silly.' I could have sworn Mom's romance novels described a naked man walking slowly toward you as sexy and sensual. Should have known better than to trust a Harlequin.
Saying nothing, he walked past me, and stretched out in a patch of sunlit grass. He shut his eyes. Do I say something? Was he ignoring me because he's humiliated? Or was he still insane and couldn't even see me? Or maybe he's just rude? Like I should talk, what with me staring at his thing.
So long as he wasn't trying to kill me, I guessed that was all I cared about. Washing off sounded like a great idea. I knew it was time wasting, but I could probably move faster if I wasn't stopping to scratch my filthy body every two minutes. Besides, I stank. Who'd stop and pick me up and take me to civilization looking and smelling like this?
I took my shoes off and wondered how exactly to do this. Connor had obviously washed his clothes first. Could I get naked in front of a stranger? Yes, I could. I took off everything and glanced back to see if he was looking. His eyes remained shut. I was slightly miffed. How does a teenage boy not look when there might be a naked girl around?
I went to the slow moving part of the river and soaked my clothes. Would they get clean without soap? Who knew? My shirt was torn and spotted with blood; so were my jeans. I beat them against the slick, smooth rocks then put them up in a branch, too. I waded into the river. It was so cold; the shock making me feel like I had to pee even worse. I couldn't hold it, poor fishes.
I tried to move away from that spot even though I knew the current had already carried it all away. I nearly slipped on the round river stones. I couldn't get too far from the bank. The water went too fast in the middle of the river. I hunkered down to get my hair wet, feeling my nipples harden in the cold but it felt good to have fresh water on me. I ducked under, letting my hair wave in the current. I came up for air, took a deep breath and went back under, digging my fingers in my scalp.
My cold tolerance must not be as good as Connor's. I had to get out of the water. I didn't care that I had lost travel time. I felt infinitely better. I climbed out onto the bank and Connor still had his eyes shut. What was wrong with him? What kind of guy doesn't cop a look? I'm worth looking at, right? Well, if he was that sleepy, I wondered if I could get his knife. I almost got to it when Connor's eyes snapped open, looking up at me suspiciously. "Um, you might want to be careful that you don't get a sunburn," I said lamely, suddenly feeling as naked as I was. I moved passed him and found my own sunny patch of grass.
"Not a vampire. Sunlight won't hurt me," he muttered. So he did understand me and was sane enough to make some sort of conversation.
"I know that." I laid down, even though I was thinking we should get moving. Wolfram and Hart had to be after us still. "But anyone can get a sunburn, you know, especially as pale as you and I are."
He glanced at me. "I didn't know." His lips pursed, his eyes dimming. "I'm sorry for hurting you."
"I know you didn't mean to. I know Lilah made you do it," I said, thinking for the first time that he might be sane enough to deal with. "How do you feel?"
Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned onto his side, making his penis fall down across his thigh. It seemed to like being in the sun, considerably longer now but still looking like an elephant's nose. I was suddenly struck by the ludicrousness of it all. Two naked teens talking like being nude was a normal everyday thing.
"Bad," he admitted finally. "Confused. I don't know you, but you seem to know me."
"Not really, just what little Lilah told me. I've never met you before. All I know is you're Angel's son."
That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. His face went ugly, full of hate maybe. It scared me. "How do you know him?"
The growl in his voice made me shudder. I had to calm him down or he might try to kill me or something. Maybe Hitcoga hadn't really cured all his insanity. I mean, can that even really be cured? Maybe if I just kept talking, I'd say the right thing since what I knew about psychology fit on the head of a pin. "I've known Angel since I was a little kid. My sister's the Slayer."
His brow wrinkled. "Faith?"
"No." I smiled. "Her name's Buffy. She's one of the Slayers, the oldest. Oops, she might not like me saying that. She's been the Slayer longest, I mean."
He shook his head. "I don't know that name." His eyes scanned the skies. "I don't remember much...not since...Jasmine." He swallowed his words, looking like he was in pain. His eyes went all empty and spooky.
"It might be better that you don't remember, Connor. It was an awful place they had you in, doing bad things to you," I said softly.
"I don't know where I am." He sounded younger than I thought he was, scared, like a lost kid at the mall. I knew how he felt.
"I don't either." I should feel more afraid than I did. Something, despite everything, I felt safe with him, like I knew now that he was free from Lilah he'd protect me. I knew it was foolish to trust so easily but I couldn't help it.
"How...how did they get me?"
"They tricked Angel. He thought he was giving you a nice normal life."
Connor hitched himself up on one arm, looking at me. A strand of his hair fell across his face, tracing the path of his nose, which was slightly off center. "What?"
"I'm not sure exactly." I shrugged, wondering why I wasn't more self- conscious about having him staring directly at my naked body. "Something about putting you with a normal family and making everyone forget you were you."
His eyes slotted. "Why?"
I shrugged. "I don't have the answers, Connor. He probably wanted you to be safe and happy. That's what Buffy wants for me. What I want is the family I already have, even if it is nuts. Maybe it's the same with you and your dad. You'll have to ask Angel yourself once we get out of here." I ruffled my hair to help dry it. "You are wanting out of here, right?"
He nodded.
"Don't you think we should go before they send someone after us both?" I asked.
He sniffed the air. "No one's around. Let the clothing dry more." With that, he flopped onto his belly. For his sake, I hope there weren't ants in the grass.
I've never been a patient sunbather and I couldn't get as relaxed as Connor. Maybe he was still exhausted from all he'd been through or maybe he was still a little mad. I remember the odd state of mind Willow had been in the few times Giles could coax her onto the phone when she was rehabbing in England. She had been apathetic and Connor seemed like that now.
Connor's eyes were shut as he seemed to soak up the sun. He reminded me of a cat, a panther maybe. My eyes roved over his butt, what little there was of it. I shouldn't be looking. The hormone overdose was doing strange things to me, or maybe it was regular teenaged horniness. I didn't have to imagine him naked so I was one step ahead. Of course, I still didn't know what it looked like erect. I've never seen that. Me and my friends were too shy to look at pornos. Just thinking about it made me feel tingly and I didn't want that. Just then my stomach growled loudly. When was the last time I had eaten? I looked over and saw the noise had caught Connor's attention. I flashed him an embarrassed smile. "Sorry. I'm hungry."
He nodded. "Me, too."
"They were drugging you with your food," I said, looking up at the sky. Black clouds were rolling in. Lightning hit trees a lot right? Oh great, I was going to get fried in a forest. "Connor, I don't think our clothes are going to get dry." I pointed upwards.
He sat up. "You might be right."
Without another word, he got up and started to dress. I did the same. It was next to impossible to get my wet pants up.
"Hitcoga said to go that way." I pointed downstream. I'm not sure why I assumed we had gone from predator and prey to partners but he seemed content with the new arrangement.
He just nodded and started walking. I trailed after him. As we walked along, I noticed he was definitely a shade shorter than me. He was such a slight creature he conjured up images of Peter Pan in my head. Peter Pan with a really big knife. Then again I think Pan had a sword. Connor suddenly scooped up a good sized rock from the water's edge, cocking his hand back.
I flinched, thinking he was going to hit me. That's when I saw the squirrel. "What are you doing?"
He pointed at the squirrel. "You said you were hungry."
I grabbed for the rock. "You're not killing a squirrel."
"Why not?" He jerked away from me. "It's good meat."
"No, it's not," I argued and by then the squirrel was gone. He gave me a dirty look and dropped the rock. "We'll get to civilization soon and then we can eat," I added more optimistically than I felt.
He just glared and started walking again. I followed. It was a lot easier to walk in the forest in the day time. At least I could see the roots and rocks. Still, I was getting very tired. My butt and thighs burned, trying to keep up with him. Finally he asked me to tell him about my family. The way he asked it struck me as odd. The word family seemed to cause him pain.
For some reason I chose not to tell him about Mom and Buffy right off the bat. Instead I told him what I really was. I don't know why I did. No one is supposed to know my secret but something inside me told me he needed to hear it. Lilah had been right. We were somewhat alike, strange creatures with no real place in the world except the one we made for ourselves.
He listened as the rain started pelting down, making it miserable to walk. My feet got wet and blistered in my shoes. My pants stuck to me, chafing me, but talking seemed to take my mind off it. He listened to how the monks did the opposite thing Angel tried to do to him, how they had implanted me in everyone's memories. As lightning crashed, I told him that I really hadn't ever known Angel as a child, that I just felt like I had since that's the magic of me. We figured I didn't come into existence until Buffy was at college but if you asked him, Angel would remember me spying on them from time to time, like a bratty little sister would.
Then I told him all about Buffy. Connor was very quiet as I told him all the good things Angel had done. By now I was so exhausted, I didn't know how I was walking and talking at the same time. I slipped in the mud a few times but Connor always caught me before I fell. He was strong and sure- footed like a goat. I was just starting in on Angel becoming Angelus when Connor grabbed me, dragging me to a halt. He put a finger on my lips.
I shut up as he tensed, cocking his head to one side. His nostrils flared and I started to shake. Something was out there and from his body language, I knew it wasn't another hiker or fisherman or hunter or something nice and benign like that. Connor's fingers entwined with mine.
"Run," he whispered and started off, pulling me along after him.
"What is it?"
"Don't know," he replied. "They've sent something after us."
Connor dragged me through the blinding rain. If there was something behind us, I couldn't tell. My foot slipped on the wet leaves and I fell, taking Connor with me. He landed on me and we tumbled until we slammed into a tree. Our legs were a tangle. Connor got off me, drawing his knife. I shook my head to clear it then I saw it above me in the tree; a black cat, bigger than a panther. Red eyes, mere vertical slits, stared down at me. The end of its long, twitching tail was a knob of spikes like an Anklyosaurus.
"Connor, above us!" I cried as the tail came crashing down at me. I barely rolled out the way in time.
The cat leapt, letting go with that tail again. Splinters of wood flew, some nearly blinding me. Connor wasn't scared. He dodged the flailing tail and managed to get onto the beast's back. He tried to slit the cat's throat. The thing howled and crushed Connor's leg against the tree. He grunted as the beast ground his knee into the wood. The cat yowled again and now there were answering cries. There was more of them somewhere but I couldn't see them in the rain and through the thick trees. I couldn't tell how many were out there.
I scrambled to my feet, looking for a weapon; a heavy rock would have to do. I went to slam it down on the cat when its tail swept out, nearly nailing me. I jumped back and threw the rock. It slipped out of my wet hand and flew erratically right over the cat and hit Connor in the chest. Shockingly it didn't knock him off the cat's back. Leaning down, he picked the rock up, smashing the cat with it. As the beast snapped after the rock, he stabbed it with the dagger in his other hand. He shot me an irritated look, stepping around the beast's dead body. It didn't have the decency to dissolve.
"Sorry," I said with an apologetic wave of my hands.
"We need to move. More will come." He took off, his bleeding leg not slowing him in the least, and I raced after him. He glanced over his shoulder at me. "Is your aim always so bad?"
"I slipped," I shot back and he snorted.
"Should have hit you in the head," I muttered under my breath.
"And I would leave you here to those things," he replied, too calmly for my tastes.
"Yeah, like you would." Boy, I sure hoped he wouldn't. "How'd you hear me anyhow?"
"Ears like a vampire," he grunted then took a longer look at me. "You okay?"
"Yeah. You?" I asked needlessly. He was running like nothing had happened. He just nodded.
We ran for what seemed like forever before deciding that the cat's buddies weren't hot on our trail. We slowed to a walk and trudged on in the damn downpour that seemed to have settled in for the day. I wasn't used to storms like this. The sheer ferocity frightened me. I jumped almost every time thunder cracked. Connor started giving me aggravated looks after a while.
Connor didn't speak as we fought our way downstream. My wet clothing felt like it had developed teeth. Blisters, from all the chaffing, raised along the lines of my under pants. I almost wished he'd start a conversation but I wasn't sure if I could find the air to speak. I shook from fatigue and I was so hungry I was sure half the forest heard my stomach gurgling. All too soon, I was stumbling and slowing while Connor just kept chugging along. Finally, I flopped to the ground.
"I have to rest," I told him. "Just for a minute."
He came over, sitting across from me, staring intently like that would help me rest. What was going on behind those blue eyes? Was it the impatient look of a superbeing like my sister who rarely tired or something more sinister?
"I'm so hungry," I moaned, wringing out my hair which had twigs and burrs in it. Ticks? Did rain keep ticks away? What the heck did a tick look like?
"You wouldn't let me kill that squirrel," he replied, his gaze never wavering. Why couldn't he look away?
"And I'm still willing to wait until we reach civilization," I said, even though I despaired of ever doing so. He snorted, resting back against a tree. His eyes fluttered shut. So, he was just going to go to sleep on me? Actually that sounded good, but neither of us actually slept. We only sat for about ten minutes before Connor got up and started off.
I could hardly stand. I didn't realize I was so out of shape. Thin is one thing, having honed muscles is another, I guessed. I was used to short dashes through Sunnydale, not sustained hikes.
"Connor, slow down," I said, gesturing at the river. "At least let me get a drink."
He pointed skyward. "Safer water. Things can live in rivers."
I shuddered. I hadn't even thought of that but he was right. I've heard horror stories about brain-eating amoebas and dysentery. I tilted my head back and let the rain water flood into my dry mouth. It tasted odd but cool.
Time wore on. I was so tired of walking. All the trees and rocks looked alike in the rain. I wished Connor would wheeze a little, like me, act a little less robotic. Maybe I was expecting too much. He was damaged. I could sense it, like how Buffy had been damaged ever since Willow brought her back. I just wish he wasn't permeating my thoughts the way the rain was my clothing.
If he couldn't at least look tired, he could talk to me. He had been silent ever since the conversation about family got interrupted. One of my girlfriends in school said the best kind of boy was the silent kind. She was wrong. This much silence was creepy.
I was beginning to think we'd never find civilization. I couldn't tell what time of day it was. The sun was a blurry white disc, barely visible through the thick black clouds. Connor stopped.
"What? Are those cats after us again?" My head swiveled around, trying to find the hidden dangers.
He smiled, which was scarier than those cats. "You need a rest."
I didn't argue. There was a large rock by the river that had a nice flat spot. I sat on it, watching the water surge alongside my resting place. Connor climbed higher on the boulder, perching there. He reminded me so much of a cat sometimes, the kind if you go to pet its belly would tear your hand off.
The cool damp of the rock made my butt ache. I tried to take my mind off it. I stared at the water, bubbling white over the rocks. A howl punctured the air and one of those slit-eyed cats leapt out of the underbrush. Connor met its charge head-on while I tried to dodge the flailing tail full of spikes. My foot slipped on the slick rock and I went toes over head into the river.
My head cracked against the rocky bottom. For seconds, everything went black. When my head cleared, I was being rolled along the river bottom. I couldn't breathe. My chest burned. I wanted to cough but didn't dare. I must have already sucked in water when I was stunned. I was drowning. The world was watery and whipping by so fast above me. I tried to get my feet under me. I knew I could stand in this river and at least get my head above water, but the current was too fast. I couldn't get a purchase. Rocks crashed into my legs, back, arms, everywhere.
The battering threatened to separate me from consciousness. Something snared my hair, yanking hard. The fresh pain cut through the blackness enveloping me and the last of my air bubbled out. Then I realized that whatever had my hair was hauling me out of the water. A hand flashed past my eyes and hooked under my arm. Now having a better hold on me, Connor dragged me to shore.
I curled up on the wet grass, sputtering out water. He knelt and looked at my head.
"Thanks," I managed to gasp. "The monster?"
"Dead. Are you broken?"
I looked up into his blue eyes, reading concern there. I guessed he was asking if I had broken bones. I hurt all over so badly it was hard to tell. "I don't think so."
"You're bleeding."
And so I was, especially from my scalp. Connor carefully probed all the places that were torn open. He ripped the bottom third of his shirt off and pulled it into strips. It took more doing than movies would have you believe. He bound me up the best he could.
"Can you stand?"
I really wanted to do nothing more than sleep, then I was terrified that was a concussion talking. How serious could concussions be? "I don't know."
Connor helped me up and the world spun. I gagged, nearly vomiting. It felt like fireworks were going off in my head. My legs seemed like water. His arms tightened around me.
"I think..." I squeezed my eyes shut. " I have a concussion."
"Lean back," he said and I did. He swept me off my feet. I didn't think he'd be able to carry me since he was so small but he did, effortlessly. My nausea grew as he walked. I shut my eyes, gritted my teeth and buried my face against him.
It felt like lead weights were anchored to my consciousness. They took me under. When I woke back up my whole body throbbed with each beat of my heart. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. I was lying in the grass. I couldn't hear the river. Connor was busy with a bunch of tree limbs but I wasn't sure what he was doing. I sat up and his head snapped around, his eyes pinning me.
"I feel terrible," I muttered. "You can't travel," he said.
I wanted to protest but I knew he was right. I still felt dizzy. "What are you doing?" I asked, glancing around at where I was. We were near a rock outcropping. Connor's branches were resting near one such spur of rock. Down the hill, he had some leaf wrapped limbs tied above a small fire, sheltering it, but it was still barely alive.
"Making a shelter." Connor sat back, giving the lean-to a satisfied look. "Go in." He cocked his head to the side. "Need help?"
He gave me a hand up. I took a few steps then shook off his hand. "I'm a little woozy, but I think I can go on my own." I wasn't sure of that, but I was sure of the pain and pressure in my bladder. I couldn't ask him to help me into the bushes to pee.
His eyebrows raised. "You're sure?"
"Yeah, I have to..." I trailed off with a blush. He nodded like he knew what I meant. I hobbled off. My right knee felt swollen. My vision didn't seem quite right, but still I managed to find a fallen tree to sit on. I wasn't good at squatting to pee as I had already discovered. Now with a concussion, I would be lucky not to fall down and whizz all over myself.
Once I managed it, I went back to Connor. He was feeding the little fire. He looked up and pointed at the shelter. I got on my butt and scooted in since my knees hurt too much to crawl. It wasn't too damp inside, the rock shelves above us providing cover even before Connor had started work. He had laid leaves over the exposed rock and the branches provided a tight, almost water-proof cocoon. I could cry or kiss him or both. This little shelter he made us felt like the St. Regis Hotel and Spa in L.A. to me at this point.
Connor poked his head in. "You'll be okay here. I have something I gotta do."
"You're not leaving me!" I didn't even care that I sounded panicked.
"Not for long." He handed me his dagger. "Rest."
And then he was gone. I guessed he actually trusted me since he left me a weapon. I curled up on the ground, listening to the rain pattering on the shelter. My fingers touched the hilt of his dagger. I was shocked he left it with me but I guessed, like Buffy, he was a weapon in and of himself. I fought with my exhaustion just in case one of those cats came back.
A snapping sound woke me up. I couldn't believe I had fallen asleep. I squirmed, trying to get the knife and turn myself so I could fight, only the knife was gone. My heart thudding, I poked my head out. It was still raining. Connor was back, sitting by the fire. I managed to crawl agonizingly out of the lean-to and walked down to him. He glanced up at me, cleaning his dagger. Something was over the fire on a thick branch, squirrel, rabbit, opossum, I didn't even care. It smelled fantastic as it roasted and my stomach growled loudly. "It'll be done soon," he said and I blushed, realizing he had heard that.
"Just don't tell me what it was." I leaned my head back and let more rainwater trickle into my dry, hot mouth. "I guess we're staying here for the night. Do you think that's safe?"
He shrugged. "No, but nothing I can't handle."
I should have his confidence. "But those cats..."
"Will find us either way if there's more of them. Wolfram and Hart won't just give up, but you're in no shape to go further. Maybe tomorrow, there won't be any rain and we can go faster."
Neither of us addressed the fact that if I had a bad concussion I wouldn't be able to go at all. I didn't think I did since my nausea was passing, but I'd be so sore come tomorrow I wasn't sure how I'd walk. I couldn't worry about it. There was no changing things. Soon enough, the roast whatsis was done and between us we devoured the poor creature.
Afterwards, Connor doused the fire and I went back to our shelter. Night was falling. I crawled inside and wondered if he was going to keep watch or should I. He came inside the lean-to with me, making me suddenly aware of how small it was. He laid down beside me, leaving me closer to the rock where I'd be better protected.
"Shouldn't one of us keep watch?" I asked.
"Probably. You hurt your head. You can't really do it. I'm used to being alone. Not safe but at this point, probably the best we can do." He looked over at me. "Try to sleep."
"I'm not sleepy just yet," I said, thinking how very odd it was that the first two times I've slept anywhere near a guy in the same room, more or less, it wasn't in a room at all. I never liked camping and yet the first time sharing space with a boy was in the great outdoors. Of course, there was nothing sexual about this but tell that to the hormones still racing around inside me. They were saying this was the perfect mate. He saved my life. He built me a home and he dragged home food bare-handed. What more could a girl want deep in her primal self? I answered back with thoughts of a good job, a nice car and a big house. God, I was sounding like Anya. "Talk to me," I said, hoping that would get my mind off his skinny body.
"About what?"
"I told you about my family. Tell me about yours," I said then regretted it. I knew that couldn't be a safe topic. "Or about anything, if you don't want to talk about Angel."
"Can I tell you about my father?" He shifted on the dirt, trying to get comfortable. "The one who raised me?"
"If you want." I listened to him telling me tales about the man he called Father and about how he grew up. I couldn't imagine such trauma and yet he seemed perfectly all right with it. I thought the things his father had done to him to 'train' him were cruel, but I could tell he didn't think so. I wanted to tell him to stop, that the night was scary enough without tales of life in hell, but I didn't. I just wanted to hear his voice.
I didn't know when I had fallen asleep but I had. A loud peal of thunder woke me up. I was on my side, facing the rock and Connor was wrapped around me. For a moment, I thought he was taking advantage of me in my sleep, touching me where he shouldn't then I realized he was asleep himself. He snored softly, his breath warm against my neck. One of his hands was tossed over my arm and the other curled up under his head. So what was poking me?
For a moment of blind panic, I thought a snake had crawled in with us then I realized it was him. His erection tented up his baggy pants. I bit my lip, remembering sex ed when they told us about how guys averaged two to three hard ons in their sleep. Mostly the class tittered about that and I'm not sure we all believed it. Even though I knew I shouldn't, I reached back and touched him lightly through his pants. I froze, wondering if I had awakened him but he snored on. I handled that rigid organ more curiously the second time and he shifted, pushing into my hand. Oh, God, he is awake...okay, no he isn't. Still, I moved my hand away. The last thing I needed to do was make him mess himself. I squirmed away a bit, so it wasn't poking me any more.
He murmured in his sleep, then rolled over the other way. With him gone from around me, I could feel the dampness seeping in. I wondered if he was cold. He was missing half his shirt since it was holding together the tears in my skin. I curled up along his back, slipping my hands around his chest. His spine dug into me. He needed to put on some weight, but at least he was warm. I shut my eyes and tried to go back to sleep and forget about what the raging hormones were telling me to do.
When I woke up, I nearly panicked. I couldn't remember where I was, covered with dew; the air ripe with the scent of roses. As their perfume filled my nose, last night flooded back to me. Now that it was light, I could see the color of them, a delicate pink, like a hint of blood on pale skin. There was no signs of Hitcoga. I had nearly forgotten about Connor. Had he run off?
I glanced around but he was no longer lying on the grass anywhere in sight. I was a little nervous about where Connor had gotten off to. I wasn't afraid, oddly enough. If Connor wanted me dead or captured, he had plenty of time while I was asleep.
I had to pee which was much more urgent than any fear. I've never peed in the woods before. How do you find a good spot? With my luck, I'd squat on poison ivy. I stood up, surprised I wasn't the least bit sore. Hitcoga's magic must have been powerful stuff. I headed for the river, figuring I'd have less chance of getting a rose up the butt there. When I got to the bank, I saw Connor's clothing hanging on a tree branch. A large knife rested not far away. I swallowed hard. I hadn't even realized he had that. He could have dismembered me with something that big and I realized how much Lilah had trusted him to do her bidding before Hitcoga's interference.
I looked out into the water and a few yards downstream; Connor was in an eddy, taking advantage of the slower moving water. He must have been sitting on the bottom as he scrubbed his head furiously. It slowly occurred to me I was looking at a naked man. Okay, I could only see him from the waist up, nothing I hadn't seen at the beach before but if he stood up...
I had never actually seen a naked man before. There had been a few close calls with Xander over the years and the time Andrew forgot to lock the bathroom door, but I didn't see anything, thank God. I watched Connor's muscles rippling as he tried to wash his hair, suddenly forgetting I needed to pee. Muscle, skin and bone, that's all there was to him. I wanted to take him somewhere and get him a huge piece of caramel cheesecake or something. I could count the knobs of his spine. I've never seen a man so thin, not even Spike. Still, my hormone-riddled body was telling me things it might like to do with him.
Wasn't he cold in that water? It was cool outside wherever we were. It certainly wasn't southern California. My mind flashed back to Xander and Andrew doing the 'shrinkage' scene from Seinfeld. Great, the first time I'll have ever seen a penis outside of the Playgirl's Maria had stashed in her locker and it was going to be shriveled from icy water.
I really should have been trying to find a place to pee or to follow the river and escape. Anything but standing and staring, but I couldn't help it. If I didn't move now, I was going to be so embarrassed if he saw me peeking at him.
He got up, wringing out his hair. It was longer than I liked on a guy. Good lord, he had no butt. There was just nothing to him. He turned around and I couldn't help but look. Why did it look like an elephant's nose? The tip was all floppy, wrinkled skin; is that was a foreskin looks like? It must be since I hadn't seen anything like it in Playgirl. For his sake, I hope shrinkage is real and not something guys tell themselves.
I glanced up into his face, feeling my own reddening. His pale face remained expressionless. I still didn't move even as he sloshed out of the water. He didn't appear to be embarrassed about being naked. It seemed like nude was simply natural to him. He didn't seem like he wanted to hurt me any more either since he made no menacing movements.
'Don't watch him walk, Dawn, cause with that thing swinging, it just looks silly.' I could have sworn Mom's romance novels described a naked man walking slowly toward you as sexy and sensual. Should have known better than to trust a Harlequin.
Saying nothing, he walked past me, and stretched out in a patch of sunlit grass. He shut his eyes. Do I say something? Was he ignoring me because he's humiliated? Or was he still insane and couldn't even see me? Or maybe he's just rude? Like I should talk, what with me staring at his thing.
So long as he wasn't trying to kill me, I guessed that was all I cared about. Washing off sounded like a great idea. I knew it was time wasting, but I could probably move faster if I wasn't stopping to scratch my filthy body every two minutes. Besides, I stank. Who'd stop and pick me up and take me to civilization looking and smelling like this?
I took my shoes off and wondered how exactly to do this. Connor had obviously washed his clothes first. Could I get naked in front of a stranger? Yes, I could. I took off everything and glanced back to see if he was looking. His eyes remained shut. I was slightly miffed. How does a teenage boy not look when there might be a naked girl around?
I went to the slow moving part of the river and soaked my clothes. Would they get clean without soap? Who knew? My shirt was torn and spotted with blood; so were my jeans. I beat them against the slick, smooth rocks then put them up in a branch, too. I waded into the river. It was so cold; the shock making me feel like I had to pee even worse. I couldn't hold it, poor fishes.
I tried to move away from that spot even though I knew the current had already carried it all away. I nearly slipped on the round river stones. I couldn't get too far from the bank. The water went too fast in the middle of the river. I hunkered down to get my hair wet, feeling my nipples harden in the cold but it felt good to have fresh water on me. I ducked under, letting my hair wave in the current. I came up for air, took a deep breath and went back under, digging my fingers in my scalp.
My cold tolerance must not be as good as Connor's. I had to get out of the water. I didn't care that I had lost travel time. I felt infinitely better. I climbed out onto the bank and Connor still had his eyes shut. What was wrong with him? What kind of guy doesn't cop a look? I'm worth looking at, right? Well, if he was that sleepy, I wondered if I could get his knife. I almost got to it when Connor's eyes snapped open, looking up at me suspiciously. "Um, you might want to be careful that you don't get a sunburn," I said lamely, suddenly feeling as naked as I was. I moved passed him and found my own sunny patch of grass.
"Not a vampire. Sunlight won't hurt me," he muttered. So he did understand me and was sane enough to make some sort of conversation.
"I know that." I laid down, even though I was thinking we should get moving. Wolfram and Hart had to be after us still. "But anyone can get a sunburn, you know, especially as pale as you and I are."
He glanced at me. "I didn't know." His lips pursed, his eyes dimming. "I'm sorry for hurting you."
"I know you didn't mean to. I know Lilah made you do it," I said, thinking for the first time that he might be sane enough to deal with. "How do you feel?"
Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned onto his side, making his penis fall down across his thigh. It seemed to like being in the sun, considerably longer now but still looking like an elephant's nose. I was suddenly struck by the ludicrousness of it all. Two naked teens talking like being nude was a normal everyday thing.
"Bad," he admitted finally. "Confused. I don't know you, but you seem to know me."
"Not really, just what little Lilah told me. I've never met you before. All I know is you're Angel's son."
That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. His face went ugly, full of hate maybe. It scared me. "How do you know him?"
The growl in his voice made me shudder. I had to calm him down or he might try to kill me or something. Maybe Hitcoga hadn't really cured all his insanity. I mean, can that even really be cured? Maybe if I just kept talking, I'd say the right thing since what I knew about psychology fit on the head of a pin. "I've known Angel since I was a little kid. My sister's the Slayer."
His brow wrinkled. "Faith?"
"No." I smiled. "Her name's Buffy. She's one of the Slayers, the oldest. Oops, she might not like me saying that. She's been the Slayer longest, I mean."
He shook his head. "I don't know that name." His eyes scanned the skies. "I don't remember much...not since...Jasmine." He swallowed his words, looking like he was in pain. His eyes went all empty and spooky.
"It might be better that you don't remember, Connor. It was an awful place they had you in, doing bad things to you," I said softly.
"I don't know where I am." He sounded younger than I thought he was, scared, like a lost kid at the mall. I knew how he felt.
"I don't either." I should feel more afraid than I did. Something, despite everything, I felt safe with him, like I knew now that he was free from Lilah he'd protect me. I knew it was foolish to trust so easily but I couldn't help it.
"How...how did they get me?"
"They tricked Angel. He thought he was giving you a nice normal life."
Connor hitched himself up on one arm, looking at me. A strand of his hair fell across his face, tracing the path of his nose, which was slightly off center. "What?"
"I'm not sure exactly." I shrugged, wondering why I wasn't more self- conscious about having him staring directly at my naked body. "Something about putting you with a normal family and making everyone forget you were you."
His eyes slotted. "Why?"
I shrugged. "I don't have the answers, Connor. He probably wanted you to be safe and happy. That's what Buffy wants for me. What I want is the family I already have, even if it is nuts. Maybe it's the same with you and your dad. You'll have to ask Angel yourself once we get out of here." I ruffled my hair to help dry it. "You are wanting out of here, right?"
He nodded.
"Don't you think we should go before they send someone after us both?" I asked.
He sniffed the air. "No one's around. Let the clothing dry more." With that, he flopped onto his belly. For his sake, I hope there weren't ants in the grass.
I've never been a patient sunbather and I couldn't get as relaxed as Connor. Maybe he was still exhausted from all he'd been through or maybe he was still a little mad. I remember the odd state of mind Willow had been in the few times Giles could coax her onto the phone when she was rehabbing in England. She had been apathetic and Connor seemed like that now.
Connor's eyes were shut as he seemed to soak up the sun. He reminded me of a cat, a panther maybe. My eyes roved over his butt, what little there was of it. I shouldn't be looking. The hormone overdose was doing strange things to me, or maybe it was regular teenaged horniness. I didn't have to imagine him naked so I was one step ahead. Of course, I still didn't know what it looked like erect. I've never seen that. Me and my friends were too shy to look at pornos. Just thinking about it made me feel tingly and I didn't want that. Just then my stomach growled loudly. When was the last time I had eaten? I looked over and saw the noise had caught Connor's attention. I flashed him an embarrassed smile. "Sorry. I'm hungry."
He nodded. "Me, too."
"They were drugging you with your food," I said, looking up at the sky. Black clouds were rolling in. Lightning hit trees a lot right? Oh great, I was going to get fried in a forest. "Connor, I don't think our clothes are going to get dry." I pointed upwards.
He sat up. "You might be right."
Without another word, he got up and started to dress. I did the same. It was next to impossible to get my wet pants up.
"Hitcoga said to go that way." I pointed downstream. I'm not sure why I assumed we had gone from predator and prey to partners but he seemed content with the new arrangement.
He just nodded and started walking. I trailed after him. As we walked along, I noticed he was definitely a shade shorter than me. He was such a slight creature he conjured up images of Peter Pan in my head. Peter Pan with a really big knife. Then again I think Pan had a sword. Connor suddenly scooped up a good sized rock from the water's edge, cocking his hand back.
I flinched, thinking he was going to hit me. That's when I saw the squirrel. "What are you doing?"
He pointed at the squirrel. "You said you were hungry."
I grabbed for the rock. "You're not killing a squirrel."
"Why not?" He jerked away from me. "It's good meat."
"No, it's not," I argued and by then the squirrel was gone. He gave me a dirty look and dropped the rock. "We'll get to civilization soon and then we can eat," I added more optimistically than I felt.
He just glared and started walking again. I followed. It was a lot easier to walk in the forest in the day time. At least I could see the roots and rocks. Still, I was getting very tired. My butt and thighs burned, trying to keep up with him. Finally he asked me to tell him about my family. The way he asked it struck me as odd. The word family seemed to cause him pain.
For some reason I chose not to tell him about Mom and Buffy right off the bat. Instead I told him what I really was. I don't know why I did. No one is supposed to know my secret but something inside me told me he needed to hear it. Lilah had been right. We were somewhat alike, strange creatures with no real place in the world except the one we made for ourselves.
He listened as the rain started pelting down, making it miserable to walk. My feet got wet and blistered in my shoes. My pants stuck to me, chafing me, but talking seemed to take my mind off it. He listened to how the monks did the opposite thing Angel tried to do to him, how they had implanted me in everyone's memories. As lightning crashed, I told him that I really hadn't ever known Angel as a child, that I just felt like I had since that's the magic of me. We figured I didn't come into existence until Buffy was at college but if you asked him, Angel would remember me spying on them from time to time, like a bratty little sister would.
Then I told him all about Buffy. Connor was very quiet as I told him all the good things Angel had done. By now I was so exhausted, I didn't know how I was walking and talking at the same time. I slipped in the mud a few times but Connor always caught me before I fell. He was strong and sure- footed like a goat. I was just starting in on Angel becoming Angelus when Connor grabbed me, dragging me to a halt. He put a finger on my lips.
I shut up as he tensed, cocking his head to one side. His nostrils flared and I started to shake. Something was out there and from his body language, I knew it wasn't another hiker or fisherman or hunter or something nice and benign like that. Connor's fingers entwined with mine.
"Run," he whispered and started off, pulling me along after him.
"What is it?"
"Don't know," he replied. "They've sent something after us."
Connor dragged me through the blinding rain. If there was something behind us, I couldn't tell. My foot slipped on the wet leaves and I fell, taking Connor with me. He landed on me and we tumbled until we slammed into a tree. Our legs were a tangle. Connor got off me, drawing his knife. I shook my head to clear it then I saw it above me in the tree; a black cat, bigger than a panther. Red eyes, mere vertical slits, stared down at me. The end of its long, twitching tail was a knob of spikes like an Anklyosaurus.
"Connor, above us!" I cried as the tail came crashing down at me. I barely rolled out the way in time.
The cat leapt, letting go with that tail again. Splinters of wood flew, some nearly blinding me. Connor wasn't scared. He dodged the flailing tail and managed to get onto the beast's back. He tried to slit the cat's throat. The thing howled and crushed Connor's leg against the tree. He grunted as the beast ground his knee into the wood. The cat yowled again and now there were answering cries. There was more of them somewhere but I couldn't see them in the rain and through the thick trees. I couldn't tell how many were out there.
I scrambled to my feet, looking for a weapon; a heavy rock would have to do. I went to slam it down on the cat when its tail swept out, nearly nailing me. I jumped back and threw the rock. It slipped out of my wet hand and flew erratically right over the cat and hit Connor in the chest. Shockingly it didn't knock him off the cat's back. Leaning down, he picked the rock up, smashing the cat with it. As the beast snapped after the rock, he stabbed it with the dagger in his other hand. He shot me an irritated look, stepping around the beast's dead body. It didn't have the decency to dissolve.
"Sorry," I said with an apologetic wave of my hands.
"We need to move. More will come." He took off, his bleeding leg not slowing him in the least, and I raced after him. He glanced over his shoulder at me. "Is your aim always so bad?"
"I slipped," I shot back and he snorted.
"Should have hit you in the head," I muttered under my breath.
"And I would leave you here to those things," he replied, too calmly for my tastes.
"Yeah, like you would." Boy, I sure hoped he wouldn't. "How'd you hear me anyhow?"
"Ears like a vampire," he grunted then took a longer look at me. "You okay?"
"Yeah. You?" I asked needlessly. He was running like nothing had happened. He just nodded.
We ran for what seemed like forever before deciding that the cat's buddies weren't hot on our trail. We slowed to a walk and trudged on in the damn downpour that seemed to have settled in for the day. I wasn't used to storms like this. The sheer ferocity frightened me. I jumped almost every time thunder cracked. Connor started giving me aggravated looks after a while.
Connor didn't speak as we fought our way downstream. My wet clothing felt like it had developed teeth. Blisters, from all the chaffing, raised along the lines of my under pants. I almost wished he'd start a conversation but I wasn't sure if I could find the air to speak. I shook from fatigue and I was so hungry I was sure half the forest heard my stomach gurgling. All too soon, I was stumbling and slowing while Connor just kept chugging along. Finally, I flopped to the ground.
"I have to rest," I told him. "Just for a minute."
He came over, sitting across from me, staring intently like that would help me rest. What was going on behind those blue eyes? Was it the impatient look of a superbeing like my sister who rarely tired or something more sinister?
"I'm so hungry," I moaned, wringing out my hair which had twigs and burrs in it. Ticks? Did rain keep ticks away? What the heck did a tick look like?
"You wouldn't let me kill that squirrel," he replied, his gaze never wavering. Why couldn't he look away?
"And I'm still willing to wait until we reach civilization," I said, even though I despaired of ever doing so. He snorted, resting back against a tree. His eyes fluttered shut. So, he was just going to go to sleep on me? Actually that sounded good, but neither of us actually slept. We only sat for about ten minutes before Connor got up and started off.
I could hardly stand. I didn't realize I was so out of shape. Thin is one thing, having honed muscles is another, I guessed. I was used to short dashes through Sunnydale, not sustained hikes.
"Connor, slow down," I said, gesturing at the river. "At least let me get a drink."
He pointed skyward. "Safer water. Things can live in rivers."
I shuddered. I hadn't even thought of that but he was right. I've heard horror stories about brain-eating amoebas and dysentery. I tilted my head back and let the rain water flood into my dry mouth. It tasted odd but cool.
Time wore on. I was so tired of walking. All the trees and rocks looked alike in the rain. I wished Connor would wheeze a little, like me, act a little less robotic. Maybe I was expecting too much. He was damaged. I could sense it, like how Buffy had been damaged ever since Willow brought her back. I just wish he wasn't permeating my thoughts the way the rain was my clothing.
If he couldn't at least look tired, he could talk to me. He had been silent ever since the conversation about family got interrupted. One of my girlfriends in school said the best kind of boy was the silent kind. She was wrong. This much silence was creepy.
I was beginning to think we'd never find civilization. I couldn't tell what time of day it was. The sun was a blurry white disc, barely visible through the thick black clouds. Connor stopped.
"What? Are those cats after us again?" My head swiveled around, trying to find the hidden dangers.
He smiled, which was scarier than those cats. "You need a rest."
I didn't argue. There was a large rock by the river that had a nice flat spot. I sat on it, watching the water surge alongside my resting place. Connor climbed higher on the boulder, perching there. He reminded me so much of a cat sometimes, the kind if you go to pet its belly would tear your hand off.
The cool damp of the rock made my butt ache. I tried to take my mind off it. I stared at the water, bubbling white over the rocks. A howl punctured the air and one of those slit-eyed cats leapt out of the underbrush. Connor met its charge head-on while I tried to dodge the flailing tail full of spikes. My foot slipped on the slick rock and I went toes over head into the river.
My head cracked against the rocky bottom. For seconds, everything went black. When my head cleared, I was being rolled along the river bottom. I couldn't breathe. My chest burned. I wanted to cough but didn't dare. I must have already sucked in water when I was stunned. I was drowning. The world was watery and whipping by so fast above me. I tried to get my feet under me. I knew I could stand in this river and at least get my head above water, but the current was too fast. I couldn't get a purchase. Rocks crashed into my legs, back, arms, everywhere.
The battering threatened to separate me from consciousness. Something snared my hair, yanking hard. The fresh pain cut through the blackness enveloping me and the last of my air bubbled out. Then I realized that whatever had my hair was hauling me out of the water. A hand flashed past my eyes and hooked under my arm. Now having a better hold on me, Connor dragged me to shore.
I curled up on the wet grass, sputtering out water. He knelt and looked at my head.
"Thanks," I managed to gasp. "The monster?"
"Dead. Are you broken?"
I looked up into his blue eyes, reading concern there. I guessed he was asking if I had broken bones. I hurt all over so badly it was hard to tell. "I don't think so."
"You're bleeding."
And so I was, especially from my scalp. Connor carefully probed all the places that were torn open. He ripped the bottom third of his shirt off and pulled it into strips. It took more doing than movies would have you believe. He bound me up the best he could.
"Can you stand?"
I really wanted to do nothing more than sleep, then I was terrified that was a concussion talking. How serious could concussions be? "I don't know."
Connor helped me up and the world spun. I gagged, nearly vomiting. It felt like fireworks were going off in my head. My legs seemed like water. His arms tightened around me.
"I think..." I squeezed my eyes shut. " I have a concussion."
"Lean back," he said and I did. He swept me off my feet. I didn't think he'd be able to carry me since he was so small but he did, effortlessly. My nausea grew as he walked. I shut my eyes, gritted my teeth and buried my face against him.
It felt like lead weights were anchored to my consciousness. They took me under. When I woke back up my whole body throbbed with each beat of my heart. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. I was lying in the grass. I couldn't hear the river. Connor was busy with a bunch of tree limbs but I wasn't sure what he was doing. I sat up and his head snapped around, his eyes pinning me.
"I feel terrible," I muttered. "You can't travel," he said.
I wanted to protest but I knew he was right. I still felt dizzy. "What are you doing?" I asked, glancing around at where I was. We were near a rock outcropping. Connor's branches were resting near one such spur of rock. Down the hill, he had some leaf wrapped limbs tied above a small fire, sheltering it, but it was still barely alive.
"Making a shelter." Connor sat back, giving the lean-to a satisfied look. "Go in." He cocked his head to the side. "Need help?"
He gave me a hand up. I took a few steps then shook off his hand. "I'm a little woozy, but I think I can go on my own." I wasn't sure of that, but I was sure of the pain and pressure in my bladder. I couldn't ask him to help me into the bushes to pee.
His eyebrows raised. "You're sure?"
"Yeah, I have to..." I trailed off with a blush. He nodded like he knew what I meant. I hobbled off. My right knee felt swollen. My vision didn't seem quite right, but still I managed to find a fallen tree to sit on. I wasn't good at squatting to pee as I had already discovered. Now with a concussion, I would be lucky not to fall down and whizz all over myself.
Once I managed it, I went back to Connor. He was feeding the little fire. He looked up and pointed at the shelter. I got on my butt and scooted in since my knees hurt too much to crawl. It wasn't too damp inside, the rock shelves above us providing cover even before Connor had started work. He had laid leaves over the exposed rock and the branches provided a tight, almost water-proof cocoon. I could cry or kiss him or both. This little shelter he made us felt like the St. Regis Hotel and Spa in L.A. to me at this point.
Connor poked his head in. "You'll be okay here. I have something I gotta do."
"You're not leaving me!" I didn't even care that I sounded panicked.
"Not for long." He handed me his dagger. "Rest."
And then he was gone. I guessed he actually trusted me since he left me a weapon. I curled up on the ground, listening to the rain pattering on the shelter. My fingers touched the hilt of his dagger. I was shocked he left it with me but I guessed, like Buffy, he was a weapon in and of himself. I fought with my exhaustion just in case one of those cats came back.
A snapping sound woke me up. I couldn't believe I had fallen asleep. I squirmed, trying to get the knife and turn myself so I could fight, only the knife was gone. My heart thudding, I poked my head out. It was still raining. Connor was back, sitting by the fire. I managed to crawl agonizingly out of the lean-to and walked down to him. He glanced up at me, cleaning his dagger. Something was over the fire on a thick branch, squirrel, rabbit, opossum, I didn't even care. It smelled fantastic as it roasted and my stomach growled loudly. "It'll be done soon," he said and I blushed, realizing he had heard that.
"Just don't tell me what it was." I leaned my head back and let more rainwater trickle into my dry, hot mouth. "I guess we're staying here for the night. Do you think that's safe?"
He shrugged. "No, but nothing I can't handle."
I should have his confidence. "But those cats..."
"Will find us either way if there's more of them. Wolfram and Hart won't just give up, but you're in no shape to go further. Maybe tomorrow, there won't be any rain and we can go faster."
Neither of us addressed the fact that if I had a bad concussion I wouldn't be able to go at all. I didn't think I did since my nausea was passing, but I'd be so sore come tomorrow I wasn't sure how I'd walk. I couldn't worry about it. There was no changing things. Soon enough, the roast whatsis was done and between us we devoured the poor creature.
Afterwards, Connor doused the fire and I went back to our shelter. Night was falling. I crawled inside and wondered if he was going to keep watch or should I. He came inside the lean-to with me, making me suddenly aware of how small it was. He laid down beside me, leaving me closer to the rock where I'd be better protected.
"Shouldn't one of us keep watch?" I asked.
"Probably. You hurt your head. You can't really do it. I'm used to being alone. Not safe but at this point, probably the best we can do." He looked over at me. "Try to sleep."
"I'm not sleepy just yet," I said, thinking how very odd it was that the first two times I've slept anywhere near a guy in the same room, more or less, it wasn't in a room at all. I never liked camping and yet the first time sharing space with a boy was in the great outdoors. Of course, there was nothing sexual about this but tell that to the hormones still racing around inside me. They were saying this was the perfect mate. He saved my life. He built me a home and he dragged home food bare-handed. What more could a girl want deep in her primal self? I answered back with thoughts of a good job, a nice car and a big house. God, I was sounding like Anya. "Talk to me," I said, hoping that would get my mind off his skinny body.
"About what?"
"I told you about my family. Tell me about yours," I said then regretted it. I knew that couldn't be a safe topic. "Or about anything, if you don't want to talk about Angel."
"Can I tell you about my father?" He shifted on the dirt, trying to get comfortable. "The one who raised me?"
"If you want." I listened to him telling me tales about the man he called Father and about how he grew up. I couldn't imagine such trauma and yet he seemed perfectly all right with it. I thought the things his father had done to him to 'train' him were cruel, but I could tell he didn't think so. I wanted to tell him to stop, that the night was scary enough without tales of life in hell, but I didn't. I just wanted to hear his voice.
I didn't know when I had fallen asleep but I had. A loud peal of thunder woke me up. I was on my side, facing the rock and Connor was wrapped around me. For a moment, I thought he was taking advantage of me in my sleep, touching me where he shouldn't then I realized he was asleep himself. He snored softly, his breath warm against my neck. One of his hands was tossed over my arm and the other curled up under his head. So what was poking me?
For a moment of blind panic, I thought a snake had crawled in with us then I realized it was him. His erection tented up his baggy pants. I bit my lip, remembering sex ed when they told us about how guys averaged two to three hard ons in their sleep. Mostly the class tittered about that and I'm not sure we all believed it. Even though I knew I shouldn't, I reached back and touched him lightly through his pants. I froze, wondering if I had awakened him but he snored on. I handled that rigid organ more curiously the second time and he shifted, pushing into my hand. Oh, God, he is awake...okay, no he isn't. Still, I moved my hand away. The last thing I needed to do was make him mess himself. I squirmed away a bit, so it wasn't poking me any more.
He murmured in his sleep, then rolled over the other way. With him gone from around me, I could feel the dampness seeping in. I wondered if he was cold. He was missing half his shirt since it was holding together the tears in my skin. I curled up along his back, slipping my hands around his chest. His spine dug into me. He needed to put on some weight, but at least he was warm. I shut my eyes and tried to go back to sleep and forget about what the raging hormones were telling me to do.