A character dies in this chapter. Cry me a river. Lol, nah.
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Suze's POV.
I didn't know what to say. It was like, I'd been asleep all this time, in this horrible nightmare, and now that Jesse was back, the puzzle pieces just fell back into place. He'd filled this emptiness that I'd been enduring, without even knowing it was there. He'd made everything very real again, and it was a reality that I knew I could now deal with, with him here.
'Dios . . . how I've missed you, Susannah,' he panted, lifting himself off of me, and sitting back, running a hand through that opulent head of thick, dark Latino hair. I sat up, feeling very feathery, fluffy. We both stood up, and walked to opposite sides of my room. We both knew that we needed to get some things straight before we went all makey-outy with each other. With the lips, and stuff. You know?
Shows how strong we are.
Within about five seconds, maybe four, we were in each other's arms again, kissing ardently. He gripped my back, and I pulled at his arms as we were fused together by this passion. It was very overwhelming, after what had just happened with Paul and stuff. I mean, WHOA. I was freaked out by the whole thing, okay?
But Jesse had a very good method of, you know, making me not so freaked out.
Tonguey, but effective.
. . . Okay . . .
. . . Even I know that that was gross. I'm sorry. I will keep my kissing details to myself.
But it's just so amazing!
Being kissed by Jesse I mean. Not grossness.
Our noses kept squashing together – in this totally cute, romantic way, mind – as we made up for all the lost time. His head was bowed down to meet me, me being a short ass and all compared to his tall architecture.
But me is single-minded, and dedicated. Yes, me good.
Oh, shut up . . .
With every working brain cell that I still had, I shoved Jesse away, struggling to breathe. What was I doing, hindering this little mind-blowing episode with this . . . this god?
Because that's what he was. I am serious. Try to envision here . . . A tall, dark, handsome man, with the most perfect black liquidy eyes, the ideal fashion sense – no New Jersey silken tees for my Jesse – firm washboard abs hidden beneath stylish manly tops – unfortunately – and those magical eyes that transported you to a world where nothing was wrong, and everything was so incredibly right . . . Ha, long sentence, I know. So sue me? My boyfriend is virtuous.
Hang on . . .
'Are we still going out?' I asked in a very small voice, breaking away from him. He looked down at me with reckless, invigorated eyes.
'Why, of course. I really must apologize for my way of going about that whole Querida thing, Susannah. It was extremely foolish of me to break it to you like that,' he said, and went to continue with the make out stuff, but I put my finger on his lips. I felt his muscles tense.
'Break it to me?' I asked uncertainly. Just the way he said it. Like, I dunno, there was something that had to be told to me very carefully in the first place. "Break" it to me?
His brow furrowed, and his mouth tugged into a small smile. Again, the how- did-I-end-up-with-such-a-ditz-for-a-girlfriend smile, I'll bet. Joy of joys . . .
'Susannah,' he said patiently, 'See here . . . ' He let out a sigh, and broke away from me for a second, his hands sliding down my arms pleasantly. My skin went, you know, all tingly and stuff. All goosebumpy, yeah? But I focused on Jesse again, because he was doing something . . . weird.
Jesse was digging his hand down the neck of his shirt. Um . . . huh? I mean, it was totally something I wouldn't mind doing, but yeah. Still, it was a bit odd.
But I stopped feeling so freaked when his hand resurfaced a split second later, clutching something in his hand, that was attached to a brown leather string around his neck. With an easy tug, the cord untied, and he pressed the object into my hands. It was rutted and warm. Like him, if you take those abs into account – sorry. But yeah, I stared at it.
It was a pendant of some kind. It was truly beautiful, about two inches long, and solid gold, but with an antique, rusted effect over it. It was triangular in shape with dark gold embossed symbols across the bottom side. There were five symbols, the first was like a paintbrush or something, the second was a falcon, the third an eagle, the fourth another falcon, and the fifth was this horizontal zigzag. Where had I seen these before?
I tried straining my brain, but it hurt too much. Giving up the whirlwind of thoughts, I surrendered to my ignorance.
'What is it?' I asked in calm frustration. 'What does it say? What are those symbols?' I gently skimmed the markings with my finger. The precious metal was quickly turning cold. The cord dangled loosely from the little loop at the apex of the triangle.
'Those symbols,' Jesse respired, his head very close to mine as he stared – wistfully? – at the pendant thingie, 'Are hieroglyphics, Susannah. They –'
'Oh yeah,' the concept dawned on me. I'd so seen them in History class, duh! 'What do they say?'
His smile twitched ever so slightly. 'I was getting to that,' he grinned. 'The hieroglyphs say, "SHAMAN." Do you know what a shaman is, Susannah?'
'Uh, maybe in my last life when I was Einstein,' I said sarcastically.
Jesse looked confused. 'But Einstein would not necessarily know this, Susannah. He was a mathematician. Specifically, a –'
'Okay, yeah, we got it, you memorized the guy's bio. So, what's a She-man?'
'A shaman,' he stressed, his teeth gritted slightly. His fingers touched mine as he, too, touched the markings upon the pendent. 'Shamans came from ancient Egypt. There, it was one acting as a medium between the visible and spirit worlds. There were also practices for sorcery of healing or divination. It was a very religious custom. Only these shamans, in the Ancient Egyptian world, above all others, had the gift of being able to see, feel and converse with the dead. Ghosts, spirits.' He looked at me eloquently. 'Are you seeing how this relates to you?'
I nodded dumbly. 'Er, yeah.'
He continued. 'Yet there was a whole other level of shamans, Susannah. These were people with the power to not only communicate with spirits, but actually cross over to the spirit world itself.'
'The Shadowland,' I breathed in wonder.
'Yes,' Jesse said. He looked very strange. 'You have learnt that you are not a medium, but a shifter, which is the closest translation that . . . anyhow. This – ' he stopped, and took my hand more tightly, pulling me a little closer to him. 'This was given to me when I was very young, by my . . . mentor, you may say. You need not know whom. It signifies that I am a shifter, and a powerful one, it seems. I have never taken it off since the day that it was entrusted to me. It would be my most valuable possession, Susannah.'
'Would be?'
He swallowed. 'Yes, would be, if you were not apart of my life.'
I went very still. What? What was he saying? That I'm better than his cool Egyptian necklace? Oh my God! That was so sweet!
I beamed at him, feeling very chuffed with myself.
Suze: 1. Necklace: 0 .
So suck!
'Susannah,' he said, his voice very serious again. His breath was ragged, and his eyes were searching me, my soul. 'I have never been in love like this before. It's a unique feeling, and it is very powerful also. I feel dead when you are not by me. You have this hold over me and I never want you to let go. I love you more than . . . than anything that I have ever known. I say these words, not to appear worthy of you, but simply because there are no truer words to escape my lips.'
I was rapt by these words that bound me in an enthralling spell. These words he was saying, it was like poetry of the heart. I just stared at him in awe. What did I ever do to deserve such blessed revelations? I think my mouth was kind of open in my shock at hearing what I had, but I didn't really care. I was so moved. I could feel my heart physically speeding up, and my face getting very hot.
It was wonderful.
'That was the most – ' I choked on the word. Yeah, me choked up? Not good. But this, this was a totally good choked up. Even if it didn't sound too attractive. I took a breath, which was unpredictably convulsive. ' – The most beautiful thing that anyone – ANYONE, has ever said to me, Jesse. Ever.'
He smiled down on me. 'I will never stop loving you, Susannah Simon. Mi amo . . . I'm giving you this because it means so much to me.' He slid the leather stringed necklace over my head, his knuckle brushing my cheek in this total provocative way. '. . . Because you mean so much to me,' he whispered into my ear.
I was too stunned too speak. I stuttered some incoherent words four a few seconds, but then realized the futility of it, seeing that my brain wasn't registering as fast as my heart was. I threw my arms around his neck, and pulled him into the deepest kiss that I have ever experienced. He was electrifying on my lips, and I felt passion like no other.
I loved Jesse.
He loved me.
Everything else wrong in my life? Piss off.
~*~
Jesse had explained to me that it would be extremely difficult for him to dematerialize back to Spain without the same motive as he had before. He told me, in fact, that it was impossible for him to do. His family, apparently, knew that he'd gone – he'd told him that his duty as a shifter was needed elsewhere, indefinitely. So they were fine about it. Well, they didn't know where he was specifically, or who he was helping, but yeah. Screw Cora, who cared what she thought anyway, huh?
'Where are you going to stay?' I asked him worriedly.
'My house?' he suggested with a "duh" smile.
'Oh yeah . . . but Jesse, there's no one there! What if some crazed guy comes in the middle of the night with an axe, and chases you and then locks the doors, so you can't escape! What if –'
But he started laughing, which made me pretty pissed. I mean, here I was worried about his well being, and he laughed at my concern? Not good.
'Fine,' I snapped, 'Get decapitate. See if I care.'
'I should think that you would,' he said dryly. 'That was almost three quarters of an hour of kissing, Susannah.'
I went very red.
'Um, yeah . . . ' I muttered. 'But how are you going to get to your house, Jesse? Mum's taken her car, and anyway, I so don't want you driving. There are so many people who speed at this time of night! You could get knocked off the cliff at the hairpin curves at the Point, you know? Where some people go to park on a –'
'Susannah,' he broke in, looking absurdly amused. He put one hand in his pocket, smiling. 'I'm getting the distinct impression you do not want me to leave. Are these feelings out of line? Or is there a genuine vibe that I'm getting from you?'
'Not sayin' a word,' I said in a sing-song voice, flexing my hands playfully.
'Susannah,' he warned, 'It would be . . . crude . . . for me to stay with you. I am, well, I don't –' he stumbled on his words. Even in the darkness of the power failure, I could see his embarrassment.
'God, will you relax? I'm so not that type of person,' I said, although I have to admit I was ogling that visibly defined six-pack very furtively. I am such a hypocrite. 'But yeah. Could you just go out while I get into some pajamas?'
He nodded hard, and left, kind of tripping over his own feet on the way out. Not my Jesse, but hey. At least he was "my" Jesse again, ha.
And being a further hypocrite – well not exactly, I didn't exactly preach anything to him, right? – I flopped on my bed, completely blissful. Jesse . . . said the 'L" word. Lots of times! Oh, people, this was GOOD. Shit, this was better than good, it was – well, it was VERY GOOD.
Oh cut the crap Suze, this was one of the SINGLE GREATEST MOMENTS OF YOU LIFE!
Jesse loved me! I had a little triangle necklace to prove it! YAY!
I think that I kind of squealed out loud then, doing this extremely mortifying dance that made me curse the day video cameras were invented, just for giving me a bad feeling that someone might have recorded it. Now THAT would have been embarrassing.
In a BIG way.
And Jesse would probably dump me for being such a loser.
Ha. He couldn't. He would "never stop loving me." It's one thing for me to be a hypocrite, but for Jesse, it's like, punishable by crucifixion or something.
It was just as I was sliding into a pair of silky boxer-shorts – having put a little pink tank top on already – and I opened the door of the bathroom, that I saw.
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! JESSSSSSSSSSSSSSEEEE!!' I screamed in horror, falling back. Still screaming.
Jesse came bursting into my room, panting. 'Susannah! What is wrong?'
With a trembling hand, I pointed to . . . oh, gross . . .
Jesse's face drained from all colour. 'Dios . . . '
'Look what he wrote,' I said in a very inaudible voice. Across the wall stretched the words "No more games, you bitch."
In blood.
Whose blood?
Ew . . .
Suddenly feeling VERY angry, I yanked the axe out of the wall. Yes, the axe.
The one that was fixing Spike there.
The cat.
I knew that I was shaking. I really was. The axe slipped from my fingers, into the bath . . . Spike, that stupid freak of a cat, was dead. And all I could think was, "Timothy's NEVER going to live this down." I guess I was freaking out. There had been a slaughtered cat axed to my bathroom wall. A bloody message was dripping down the white plaster threateningly.
'Jesse . . . when could he have done this?' I demanded. 'When could he have sneaked in and grabbed Spike and . . . eugh, you know? Whoosh, splat?' I shuddered, looking very reluctantly at the seeping blood down my wall, the message from – who else could it be? – Paul and the red stained, stiff dead cat in the bath below the wall, with a dark smudge following it.
'Oh God,' I shook my head in disgust. My mind was popping. This wasn't real. 'He killed an innocent animal, Jesse. Well, sure, Spike was kind of the Goliath of cats, but still. He was an animal. He wasn't doing anyone any harm, except maybe mental scarring. Nothing was wrong with him! So why did Paul have to go try and chop him up? It's –'
'Susannah, this is no time to prattle on. And certainly not at that speed,' Jesse said grimly, grabbing my shoulders and giving me a thorough shake. My hair shook in my eyes. This was weird. Why did I feel this scared? Why had my brain slowed right down, so I could barely see the whiteness of the bloodied bathroom wall? Everything was turning out so grey, so dark . . .
I knew why.
I knew exactly why.
"No more games, you bitch."
He'd had enough of the playing around. He'd done enough teasing, enough haunting. He was tired of chasing. He wanted the big kill. Paul wasn't going to play fair anymore. He wasn't going to mess around with that sick humour. He'd lost his patience. The mercy would disappear. The "love" would die. Even if it wasn't love, that's what he thought it was.
Oh God . . . I was so dead. Paul was going to kill me. He'd had it. I'd pissed him off once too many.
Spike's fur was clumped together by the moist red blood. This murder had been atrociously recent. The cat's eyes were grey, lifeless. They looked like a porcelain dolls, lacking that cute little fake twinkle. There was nothing cute there. Nothing remotely appealing at all. Blood stained the eyelids. Dark, red, thick . . .
'Susannah, listen to me!'
Jesse was shouting in my face. My thoughts had ensnared me, but I jerked myself back into reality.
'He's gonna kill me,' I told him, my voice surprisingly calm. It wasn't what I was feeling! I wanted to run, screaming. I was so scared! But I couldn't. I couldn't be scared! SUZE SIMON DOES NOT SCARE.
Unless Paul Slater was concerned. Oh God . . . He was physically going to kill me! Like Spike! He was going to shove an axe through my stomach!
HOLY SHIT!
'Susannah, please, you have to keep it together. I have no other option, I realize, than to guard you tonight. I refuse to leave you at his mercy this night. He . . . he's a murderer. I think he's realized that you would not only be a pleasure to kill, but a conquest, over me. I do not know. But I have some insight to how his mind works –'
'But he's gonna kill me.'
'No he's not! The day he kills you is the day I stop loving you, Susannah. Which is never!' Jesse shouted, pulling me into an embrace. So protective, so warm.
Oh God, Paul was going to kill Jesse too! If I didn't get away from him he was going to kill Jesse! And maybe even other people!
NOOOOOOOOO!!!
I stared at Spike's carcass, and my world began to shatter again. If I didn't do something, everything I knew, loved . . . it would all fade away . . .
I had to stop Paul.
'Jesse,' I said forcefully. 'We have to exorcise him.'
~*~
Jesse looked at me very suddenly. 'Uh, Susannah . . .' he said very slowly.
I blinked. Everything was hazy, and dark. I did not need his uh-Susannah's at the moment. Hell no! 'What?' I demanded.
Jesse wiped a hand down his face, still holding me. 'It has surfaced that Paul, well, he has an immunity to exorcisms.'
. . . What the hell?
I stared. 'But that's impossible. No spirit is safe from being exorcised. EVERYONE is affected . . . right?'
"Wrong. It is implausible, but real. Believe me when I say that I have tried. Susannah, he cannot be exorcised. Whether it has to do with him being a shifter or a new power he has come across, or even a shielding spell, I haven't a clue. But he is protected, nevertheless.'
Now I was panicking.
'Jesse,' I said, 'What do we do then? HUH? HE'S GONNA KILL ME IF –'
'Nombres di Dios, I'm AWARE of that!' he roared back at me, and promptly began pacing rowdily. I stepped back from him. Not real. I fell asleep while Jesse and I were kissing, and now I was having this horrible dream about axes and psycho cats and even more psycho ghosts using axes on psycho cats. This was NOT REAL.
GHOSTS COULD NOT HAVE IMMUNITY TO EXORCISMS!
They . . . they couldn't . . .
I began shaking violently. I don't know why. I don't usually shake. It's so not my thing. But I couldn't help it. My body was reacting to this horribly. The new blood in my veins felt as if it was acid beneath my skin. Shaking . . . with fear.
I was terrified.
'No, no, no . . .' I said over and over again. I staggered over to my bed, but my legs failed, and I crumpled to the floor in a mess. I knew already that Paul was going to kill me. He knew how to. He'd break me first, make my world not worth living, and then make me welcome death. I knew how he worked.
No I didn't. I knew nothing about Paul. I didn't WANT to know what was going on in his mind!
Jesse ran to me, and slid a strong arm beneath my knees, and the other around my upper waist. He hoisted me up, and then lay me on my bed. I was still shaking. This wasn't right . . .
Dream, nightmare? Hallucination, even?!
ANYTHING BUT REALITY.
Spike was dead! He'd been killed by an AXE! I'd only just met him! I'm sure he wasn't that bad, once you got used to all the coughing up of hairballs, but now I never got the chance to teach him that scratching was wrong. Spike was DEAD. Horrifically murdered.
Big "Ew Factor" there.
Spike was dead, and I was going to go next . . .
This was sick.
I wasn't crying. That was the only, ONLY thing that I was thankful for. Well that and that Jesse was here for me. How we'd been all close just a few moments ago, all warm . . .
And luckily, he didn't exactly let go when he set me down on my bed. He held me head close against his shoulder, his fingers meshed in my russet curls. We were still all close and warm. His hold was possessive.
I hate being protected, but if there was one thing I needed at that second, it was Jesse holding me like that, as if everything was going to be okay.
But it wasn't. He and I both knew that . . .
What with these stupid vampires, and Paul, I don't think that I'll get a second to myself to chuck on a little lipgloss even!
I was done for.
I must have fallen asleep, but when I woke up a little at about four in the morning, Jesse was still there, watching me closely. But he didn't see my eyes open a crack.
I went back to sleep.
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Me is going on camp for 3 days. Deal.
Don't be pissed with the Spike thing? Sorry, but I HATE the creature. And it seemed pointless to the story. Jesse isn't still living there, is he? Review!!!
Love Lolly.
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Suze's POV.
I didn't know what to say. It was like, I'd been asleep all this time, in this horrible nightmare, and now that Jesse was back, the puzzle pieces just fell back into place. He'd filled this emptiness that I'd been enduring, without even knowing it was there. He'd made everything very real again, and it was a reality that I knew I could now deal with, with him here.
'Dios . . . how I've missed you, Susannah,' he panted, lifting himself off of me, and sitting back, running a hand through that opulent head of thick, dark Latino hair. I sat up, feeling very feathery, fluffy. We both stood up, and walked to opposite sides of my room. We both knew that we needed to get some things straight before we went all makey-outy with each other. With the lips, and stuff. You know?
Shows how strong we are.
Within about five seconds, maybe four, we were in each other's arms again, kissing ardently. He gripped my back, and I pulled at his arms as we were fused together by this passion. It was very overwhelming, after what had just happened with Paul and stuff. I mean, WHOA. I was freaked out by the whole thing, okay?
But Jesse had a very good method of, you know, making me not so freaked out.
Tonguey, but effective.
. . . Okay . . .
. . . Even I know that that was gross. I'm sorry. I will keep my kissing details to myself.
But it's just so amazing!
Being kissed by Jesse I mean. Not grossness.
Our noses kept squashing together – in this totally cute, romantic way, mind – as we made up for all the lost time. His head was bowed down to meet me, me being a short ass and all compared to his tall architecture.
But me is single-minded, and dedicated. Yes, me good.
Oh, shut up . . .
With every working brain cell that I still had, I shoved Jesse away, struggling to breathe. What was I doing, hindering this little mind-blowing episode with this . . . this god?
Because that's what he was. I am serious. Try to envision here . . . A tall, dark, handsome man, with the most perfect black liquidy eyes, the ideal fashion sense – no New Jersey silken tees for my Jesse – firm washboard abs hidden beneath stylish manly tops – unfortunately – and those magical eyes that transported you to a world where nothing was wrong, and everything was so incredibly right . . . Ha, long sentence, I know. So sue me? My boyfriend is virtuous.
Hang on . . .
'Are we still going out?' I asked in a very small voice, breaking away from him. He looked down at me with reckless, invigorated eyes.
'Why, of course. I really must apologize for my way of going about that whole Querida thing, Susannah. It was extremely foolish of me to break it to you like that,' he said, and went to continue with the make out stuff, but I put my finger on his lips. I felt his muscles tense.
'Break it to me?' I asked uncertainly. Just the way he said it. Like, I dunno, there was something that had to be told to me very carefully in the first place. "Break" it to me?
His brow furrowed, and his mouth tugged into a small smile. Again, the how- did-I-end-up-with-such-a-ditz-for-a-girlfriend smile, I'll bet. Joy of joys . . .
'Susannah,' he said patiently, 'See here . . . ' He let out a sigh, and broke away from me for a second, his hands sliding down my arms pleasantly. My skin went, you know, all tingly and stuff. All goosebumpy, yeah? But I focused on Jesse again, because he was doing something . . . weird.
Jesse was digging his hand down the neck of his shirt. Um . . . huh? I mean, it was totally something I wouldn't mind doing, but yeah. Still, it was a bit odd.
But I stopped feeling so freaked when his hand resurfaced a split second later, clutching something in his hand, that was attached to a brown leather string around his neck. With an easy tug, the cord untied, and he pressed the object into my hands. It was rutted and warm. Like him, if you take those abs into account – sorry. But yeah, I stared at it.
It was a pendant of some kind. It was truly beautiful, about two inches long, and solid gold, but with an antique, rusted effect over it. It was triangular in shape with dark gold embossed symbols across the bottom side. There were five symbols, the first was like a paintbrush or something, the second was a falcon, the third an eagle, the fourth another falcon, and the fifth was this horizontal zigzag. Where had I seen these before?
I tried straining my brain, but it hurt too much. Giving up the whirlwind of thoughts, I surrendered to my ignorance.
'What is it?' I asked in calm frustration. 'What does it say? What are those symbols?' I gently skimmed the markings with my finger. The precious metal was quickly turning cold. The cord dangled loosely from the little loop at the apex of the triangle.
'Those symbols,' Jesse respired, his head very close to mine as he stared – wistfully? – at the pendant thingie, 'Are hieroglyphics, Susannah. They –'
'Oh yeah,' the concept dawned on me. I'd so seen them in History class, duh! 'What do they say?'
His smile twitched ever so slightly. 'I was getting to that,' he grinned. 'The hieroglyphs say, "SHAMAN." Do you know what a shaman is, Susannah?'
'Uh, maybe in my last life when I was Einstein,' I said sarcastically.
Jesse looked confused. 'But Einstein would not necessarily know this, Susannah. He was a mathematician. Specifically, a –'
'Okay, yeah, we got it, you memorized the guy's bio. So, what's a She-man?'
'A shaman,' he stressed, his teeth gritted slightly. His fingers touched mine as he, too, touched the markings upon the pendent. 'Shamans came from ancient Egypt. There, it was one acting as a medium between the visible and spirit worlds. There were also practices for sorcery of healing or divination. It was a very religious custom. Only these shamans, in the Ancient Egyptian world, above all others, had the gift of being able to see, feel and converse with the dead. Ghosts, spirits.' He looked at me eloquently. 'Are you seeing how this relates to you?'
I nodded dumbly. 'Er, yeah.'
He continued. 'Yet there was a whole other level of shamans, Susannah. These were people with the power to not only communicate with spirits, but actually cross over to the spirit world itself.'
'The Shadowland,' I breathed in wonder.
'Yes,' Jesse said. He looked very strange. 'You have learnt that you are not a medium, but a shifter, which is the closest translation that . . . anyhow. This – ' he stopped, and took my hand more tightly, pulling me a little closer to him. 'This was given to me when I was very young, by my . . . mentor, you may say. You need not know whom. It signifies that I am a shifter, and a powerful one, it seems. I have never taken it off since the day that it was entrusted to me. It would be my most valuable possession, Susannah.'
'Would be?'
He swallowed. 'Yes, would be, if you were not apart of my life.'
I went very still. What? What was he saying? That I'm better than his cool Egyptian necklace? Oh my God! That was so sweet!
I beamed at him, feeling very chuffed with myself.
Suze: 1. Necklace: 0 .
So suck!
'Susannah,' he said, his voice very serious again. His breath was ragged, and his eyes were searching me, my soul. 'I have never been in love like this before. It's a unique feeling, and it is very powerful also. I feel dead when you are not by me. You have this hold over me and I never want you to let go. I love you more than . . . than anything that I have ever known. I say these words, not to appear worthy of you, but simply because there are no truer words to escape my lips.'
I was rapt by these words that bound me in an enthralling spell. These words he was saying, it was like poetry of the heart. I just stared at him in awe. What did I ever do to deserve such blessed revelations? I think my mouth was kind of open in my shock at hearing what I had, but I didn't really care. I was so moved. I could feel my heart physically speeding up, and my face getting very hot.
It was wonderful.
'That was the most – ' I choked on the word. Yeah, me choked up? Not good. But this, this was a totally good choked up. Even if it didn't sound too attractive. I took a breath, which was unpredictably convulsive. ' – The most beautiful thing that anyone – ANYONE, has ever said to me, Jesse. Ever.'
He smiled down on me. 'I will never stop loving you, Susannah Simon. Mi amo . . . I'm giving you this because it means so much to me.' He slid the leather stringed necklace over my head, his knuckle brushing my cheek in this total provocative way. '. . . Because you mean so much to me,' he whispered into my ear.
I was too stunned too speak. I stuttered some incoherent words four a few seconds, but then realized the futility of it, seeing that my brain wasn't registering as fast as my heart was. I threw my arms around his neck, and pulled him into the deepest kiss that I have ever experienced. He was electrifying on my lips, and I felt passion like no other.
I loved Jesse.
He loved me.
Everything else wrong in my life? Piss off.
~*~
Jesse had explained to me that it would be extremely difficult for him to dematerialize back to Spain without the same motive as he had before. He told me, in fact, that it was impossible for him to do. His family, apparently, knew that he'd gone – he'd told him that his duty as a shifter was needed elsewhere, indefinitely. So they were fine about it. Well, they didn't know where he was specifically, or who he was helping, but yeah. Screw Cora, who cared what she thought anyway, huh?
'Where are you going to stay?' I asked him worriedly.
'My house?' he suggested with a "duh" smile.
'Oh yeah . . . but Jesse, there's no one there! What if some crazed guy comes in the middle of the night with an axe, and chases you and then locks the doors, so you can't escape! What if –'
But he started laughing, which made me pretty pissed. I mean, here I was worried about his well being, and he laughed at my concern? Not good.
'Fine,' I snapped, 'Get decapitate. See if I care.'
'I should think that you would,' he said dryly. 'That was almost three quarters of an hour of kissing, Susannah.'
I went very red.
'Um, yeah . . . ' I muttered. 'But how are you going to get to your house, Jesse? Mum's taken her car, and anyway, I so don't want you driving. There are so many people who speed at this time of night! You could get knocked off the cliff at the hairpin curves at the Point, you know? Where some people go to park on a –'
'Susannah,' he broke in, looking absurdly amused. He put one hand in his pocket, smiling. 'I'm getting the distinct impression you do not want me to leave. Are these feelings out of line? Or is there a genuine vibe that I'm getting from you?'
'Not sayin' a word,' I said in a sing-song voice, flexing my hands playfully.
'Susannah,' he warned, 'It would be . . . crude . . . for me to stay with you. I am, well, I don't –' he stumbled on his words. Even in the darkness of the power failure, I could see his embarrassment.
'God, will you relax? I'm so not that type of person,' I said, although I have to admit I was ogling that visibly defined six-pack very furtively. I am such a hypocrite. 'But yeah. Could you just go out while I get into some pajamas?'
He nodded hard, and left, kind of tripping over his own feet on the way out. Not my Jesse, but hey. At least he was "my" Jesse again, ha.
And being a further hypocrite – well not exactly, I didn't exactly preach anything to him, right? – I flopped on my bed, completely blissful. Jesse . . . said the 'L" word. Lots of times! Oh, people, this was GOOD. Shit, this was better than good, it was – well, it was VERY GOOD.
Oh cut the crap Suze, this was one of the SINGLE GREATEST MOMENTS OF YOU LIFE!
Jesse loved me! I had a little triangle necklace to prove it! YAY!
I think that I kind of squealed out loud then, doing this extremely mortifying dance that made me curse the day video cameras were invented, just for giving me a bad feeling that someone might have recorded it. Now THAT would have been embarrassing.
In a BIG way.
And Jesse would probably dump me for being such a loser.
Ha. He couldn't. He would "never stop loving me." It's one thing for me to be a hypocrite, but for Jesse, it's like, punishable by crucifixion or something.
It was just as I was sliding into a pair of silky boxer-shorts – having put a little pink tank top on already – and I opened the door of the bathroom, that I saw.
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! JESSSSSSSSSSSSSSEEEE!!' I screamed in horror, falling back. Still screaming.
Jesse came bursting into my room, panting. 'Susannah! What is wrong?'
With a trembling hand, I pointed to . . . oh, gross . . .
Jesse's face drained from all colour. 'Dios . . . '
'Look what he wrote,' I said in a very inaudible voice. Across the wall stretched the words "No more games, you bitch."
In blood.
Whose blood?
Ew . . .
Suddenly feeling VERY angry, I yanked the axe out of the wall. Yes, the axe.
The one that was fixing Spike there.
The cat.
I knew that I was shaking. I really was. The axe slipped from my fingers, into the bath . . . Spike, that stupid freak of a cat, was dead. And all I could think was, "Timothy's NEVER going to live this down." I guess I was freaking out. There had been a slaughtered cat axed to my bathroom wall. A bloody message was dripping down the white plaster threateningly.
'Jesse . . . when could he have done this?' I demanded. 'When could he have sneaked in and grabbed Spike and . . . eugh, you know? Whoosh, splat?' I shuddered, looking very reluctantly at the seeping blood down my wall, the message from – who else could it be? – Paul and the red stained, stiff dead cat in the bath below the wall, with a dark smudge following it.
'Oh God,' I shook my head in disgust. My mind was popping. This wasn't real. 'He killed an innocent animal, Jesse. Well, sure, Spike was kind of the Goliath of cats, but still. He was an animal. He wasn't doing anyone any harm, except maybe mental scarring. Nothing was wrong with him! So why did Paul have to go try and chop him up? It's –'
'Susannah, this is no time to prattle on. And certainly not at that speed,' Jesse said grimly, grabbing my shoulders and giving me a thorough shake. My hair shook in my eyes. This was weird. Why did I feel this scared? Why had my brain slowed right down, so I could barely see the whiteness of the bloodied bathroom wall? Everything was turning out so grey, so dark . . .
I knew why.
I knew exactly why.
"No more games, you bitch."
He'd had enough of the playing around. He'd done enough teasing, enough haunting. He was tired of chasing. He wanted the big kill. Paul wasn't going to play fair anymore. He wasn't going to mess around with that sick humour. He'd lost his patience. The mercy would disappear. The "love" would die. Even if it wasn't love, that's what he thought it was.
Oh God . . . I was so dead. Paul was going to kill me. He'd had it. I'd pissed him off once too many.
Spike's fur was clumped together by the moist red blood. This murder had been atrociously recent. The cat's eyes were grey, lifeless. They looked like a porcelain dolls, lacking that cute little fake twinkle. There was nothing cute there. Nothing remotely appealing at all. Blood stained the eyelids. Dark, red, thick . . .
'Susannah, listen to me!'
Jesse was shouting in my face. My thoughts had ensnared me, but I jerked myself back into reality.
'He's gonna kill me,' I told him, my voice surprisingly calm. It wasn't what I was feeling! I wanted to run, screaming. I was so scared! But I couldn't. I couldn't be scared! SUZE SIMON DOES NOT SCARE.
Unless Paul Slater was concerned. Oh God . . . He was physically going to kill me! Like Spike! He was going to shove an axe through my stomach!
HOLY SHIT!
'Susannah, please, you have to keep it together. I have no other option, I realize, than to guard you tonight. I refuse to leave you at his mercy this night. He . . . he's a murderer. I think he's realized that you would not only be a pleasure to kill, but a conquest, over me. I do not know. But I have some insight to how his mind works –'
'But he's gonna kill me.'
'No he's not! The day he kills you is the day I stop loving you, Susannah. Which is never!' Jesse shouted, pulling me into an embrace. So protective, so warm.
Oh God, Paul was going to kill Jesse too! If I didn't get away from him he was going to kill Jesse! And maybe even other people!
NOOOOOOOOO!!!
I stared at Spike's carcass, and my world began to shatter again. If I didn't do something, everything I knew, loved . . . it would all fade away . . .
I had to stop Paul.
'Jesse,' I said forcefully. 'We have to exorcise him.'
~*~
Jesse looked at me very suddenly. 'Uh, Susannah . . .' he said very slowly.
I blinked. Everything was hazy, and dark. I did not need his uh-Susannah's at the moment. Hell no! 'What?' I demanded.
Jesse wiped a hand down his face, still holding me. 'It has surfaced that Paul, well, he has an immunity to exorcisms.'
. . . What the hell?
I stared. 'But that's impossible. No spirit is safe from being exorcised. EVERYONE is affected . . . right?'
"Wrong. It is implausible, but real. Believe me when I say that I have tried. Susannah, he cannot be exorcised. Whether it has to do with him being a shifter or a new power he has come across, or even a shielding spell, I haven't a clue. But he is protected, nevertheless.'
Now I was panicking.
'Jesse,' I said, 'What do we do then? HUH? HE'S GONNA KILL ME IF –'
'Nombres di Dios, I'm AWARE of that!' he roared back at me, and promptly began pacing rowdily. I stepped back from him. Not real. I fell asleep while Jesse and I were kissing, and now I was having this horrible dream about axes and psycho cats and even more psycho ghosts using axes on psycho cats. This was NOT REAL.
GHOSTS COULD NOT HAVE IMMUNITY TO EXORCISMS!
They . . . they couldn't . . .
I began shaking violently. I don't know why. I don't usually shake. It's so not my thing. But I couldn't help it. My body was reacting to this horribly. The new blood in my veins felt as if it was acid beneath my skin. Shaking . . . with fear.
I was terrified.
'No, no, no . . .' I said over and over again. I staggered over to my bed, but my legs failed, and I crumpled to the floor in a mess. I knew already that Paul was going to kill me. He knew how to. He'd break me first, make my world not worth living, and then make me welcome death. I knew how he worked.
No I didn't. I knew nothing about Paul. I didn't WANT to know what was going on in his mind!
Jesse ran to me, and slid a strong arm beneath my knees, and the other around my upper waist. He hoisted me up, and then lay me on my bed. I was still shaking. This wasn't right . . .
Dream, nightmare? Hallucination, even?!
ANYTHING BUT REALITY.
Spike was dead! He'd been killed by an AXE! I'd only just met him! I'm sure he wasn't that bad, once you got used to all the coughing up of hairballs, but now I never got the chance to teach him that scratching was wrong. Spike was DEAD. Horrifically murdered.
Big "Ew Factor" there.
Spike was dead, and I was going to go next . . .
This was sick.
I wasn't crying. That was the only, ONLY thing that I was thankful for. Well that and that Jesse was here for me. How we'd been all close just a few moments ago, all warm . . .
And luckily, he didn't exactly let go when he set me down on my bed. He held me head close against his shoulder, his fingers meshed in my russet curls. We were still all close and warm. His hold was possessive.
I hate being protected, but if there was one thing I needed at that second, it was Jesse holding me like that, as if everything was going to be okay.
But it wasn't. He and I both knew that . . .
What with these stupid vampires, and Paul, I don't think that I'll get a second to myself to chuck on a little lipgloss even!
I was done for.
I must have fallen asleep, but when I woke up a little at about four in the morning, Jesse was still there, watching me closely. But he didn't see my eyes open a crack.
I went back to sleep.
**************************************************************************** ***************
Me is going on camp for 3 days. Deal.
Don't be pissed with the Spike thing? Sorry, but I HATE the creature. And it seemed pointless to the story. Jesse isn't still living there, is he? Review!!!
Love Lolly.