Thanks so much to
Jazzpunker and MaxsAntarianPrincessLiz~ I'm glad you're enjoying it. Writing is cool, but it is even better when people like what you do.
Genevieve 719 and sam me ~ Here is sort of what's going on with Liz. So much has happened to her that her identity is basically surround my massive scar tissue. She represses so much of herself that Max can't really get a feel for what's going on. He senses something, but isn't quite sure what it's all about it. This is my first POV fic so I have really gotten a hang on in adequately including the other character's perspectives very well.
Me~ Yep she remembered Maria but only for an instant. Liz's mind works by connections. Thinking about yellow, got her thinking about Tess, who is basically her best friend at the moment, which brought up Maria. Why she can access previous memories for a moment, she can't keep them. I hope that makes sense. It sort of like they exist in her head but she doesn't have a direct route to them.
ParkerEvanss~ ah you like angst. Me to. It's going to get a little more angsty, but I'm going to try and keep it from getting to out of hand.
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You have been mine before,--
How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that shallow's soar
Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall-I knew it all of yore.
~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Chapter Eight: Some Veil Did Fall
It begins in my chest.
Heart valves open and close in one steady beat. Blood rushes through tiny capillaries into larger arteries. Neurons open their sleepy eyes. Reason struggles to understand this renewal.
No one can get pass my shields.
Khivar can.
His gluttonous mind is back feasting on me. Sucking the juices out of axons and brain cells, he won't stop until I'm an emotionless void. Only then will I operate at optimal efficiency and see everything. Nothing will remain veiled not even Zan.
My eyes fly open.
His pale face hovers over me instead.
Relief settles into my weary body. I'm safe, but doubts still gnaw at me. Looking out at the lake, the sting of a phantom cold, once so real, pricks my skin. I was freezing. I should still be freezing. He warmed me up. Terror twists knives into my heart. He's an Antarian and just as powerful as Khivar.
Backing away, he grabs my wrist. In seconds, my tepid blood changes into a raging inferno that not even all the ice in the world could cool. "Let go," my voice begs, but my body wants something entirely different.
Dazed, he traces the scar just above my eye. "You're really ok," he whispers as if trying to convince himself. Raw emotions form in thunder clouds around him. The crimson hues of anger and vengeance collide with the deep blues of despair. Spinning at the eye of this disturbance sits love. He thinks I'm the woman he lost. Even with all his ice, he still feels too much.
"Run. He's off in his own little world and you could get away," prudence offers.
"You can't help him," caution seconds.
"You must help him," a voice inside me screams. One I know shouldn't be there, but after all these years still has a power over me.
Tentatively, I reach out and touch his face. Storms of pain swirl just underneath the surface. Running my fingers across his cheek, I pretend my touch chases away the darkness. A stupid school girl fantasy reality crushes within seconds. He has his ghost, and I have Khivar. Two demons that will haunt us forever, but maybe together we could forget if just for a moment.
"You're ok," he says again, but this time it seems more like a statement than a question.
"Yes."
His thumb leaves my scar and travels to my lips. They tremble in the novelty of the sensation.
Their reaction represents a potent sign of my dangerous expedition. Moving away from designated landmasses into the unknown, I have no experience with feelings.
Here there be a dragon. One who has cinnamon color eyes and a fire that runs through his veins. When he snaps out of whatever memory that holds him, he's not going to find my act amusing at all.
My fingers stop in their exploration to rest at his temples, where guilt spins its potent web. Growing tighter each day, he no longer tries to free himself from its cotton candy like contraption.
Air whooshes out of my lungs as a single image forces its way in.
Sitting alone, he slides his fingers over a gun. He admires its cold proficiency. In mere seconds, all the guilt and pain that whispers in his ear threatening to drive him mad would cease to exist because he would be with her.
My heart constricts," it wasn't your fault."
His head drops.
Antarian or not no one should have to feel this alone. Winding my fingers around his neck, I bring his face closer to mine. Self preservation screams to desist but an uncontrollable compassion drowns it out. "It wasn't," my lips brush across his, "your fault," I finish. Pulling back, the tiniest of spaces separates us. It teases me with the possibility of a union, but nothing happens. There is no great emotional catharsis or mutual fusing of our monsters. He wants the real thing not an understudy.
No man or Antarian will ever want you.
Shut up, Silas.
Instantly, his lips crash into mine with a heated intensity.
Passion and love pour into me. Drinking greedily every drop, my starving body craves for more, but reality serving as bartender cuts off the tap. These feelings aren't for me. They're for her.
His arms wrap around my waist in a possessive hold.
I forget my fears. For this brief second, I belong to him, and he belongs to me. Only together can negative numbers become positive. I deserve this one moment to experience life as whole and not as fraction.
His tongue finds mine, and they swirl together. Moving back and forth in some choreographed dance that I somehow know the steps to.
Leaving my mouth, he trails kisses down my neck. His teeth nip at my shoulder.
Goosebumps cover my skin. Vaguely, I wonder at the contradiction of cold and hot merging into one, but I soon grow tired of this idea. Finding a particular tender piece of flesh, my mouth latches on.
But I'm needed elsewhere.
Threading his fingers in my hair, he pulls me back to his mouth into the softest of kisses. Lightly pressing, we melt into one. Everything ceases to exist but us. Touching his forehead to mine, his brandy wine eyes stare at me. No longer dazed or in pain they wait for something.
I move my face across his enjoying the feel of his stubble on my skin, but he stops me. Bringing his eyes level with mine, he pulls me in with their molasses depths.
Electricity rushes through old circuits. Broken pieces slam back together in my head. The mist part to let one word through. "Max." I breath and then jerk back.
The picture breaks, and the haze returns. Ours becomes his and mine again, but the resonant remain. Like some kind of tuning fork, my body hums and his answers. Together they create a symphony of sound, but I can't read the music to it.
This shouldn't be happening. I was playing a role and nothing more. A glimpse at peace that was it all it was supposed to be nothing lasting or substantial. Nervously, I wet my lips. His taste still lingers there. With the back of my hand, I try to wipe it away, but a part of him refuses to leave. I know better. This is a game I can't play especially with an Antarian.
"Liz," so much love and hope spill forth from just that one syllable that I want nothing so desperately but to be his Liz.
However, a trio of screams erupts in my head ending that wish. I cover my ears, "don't call me that. I'm not her. "
He ignores my protests as if he expects them, "This is going to be hard, but you have to tell me the first thing you remember? I couldn't figure out the extent of it."
Confused, I look at him. What was he doing when we were kissing?
"The voice you hear whose is it?"
How could I have let him see that? Pretend it means nothing he'll stop, "I have no idea. I'm like Grand Central Station when it comes to voices."
Please just drop it. There are some things that need to stay forgotten.
"Come here poppet, it's time for your medicine," he recites.
My blood chills, and the ice returns in full force. They're all the same. Whether human or Antarian, show any weakness, and they'll use it to destroy you. He's not taking up where Khivar left off. I let him in, and now I'm going to kick him out.
Lies and snide comments form in my head. A potent missile of an insult longs to come out. One that will hit its target head on and prevent any more unwanted questions. Prepping for launch, I turn to fire, but without even saying a word he repels my attack. Lost in his eyes, all thoughts of mounting a defense fades away.
From within me, I sense her surface.
Five seconds, that's all it takes.
My mouth opens ready to tell him everything.
He doesn't throw me up against a wall or get me high on Crush.
All it takes is a look. One single flick of his eyes, and he has more power over me than Khivar and Silas combined. He's an Antarian, which means he's either violent, sexist, egotistical or all of the above. His kind break women for sport. I'm not going to let him break me. Confident in my victory, I forget one little thing.
My usurper tries to take control. "You need him," she screams in a mantra. As her voice grows hoarse, I realize it's my own, but this kinship does nothing to soften me. Needs like anything else can be ripped away at a moment's notice and then comes more ice and darkness. I'm already filled to capacity.
"Then you're a coward," she says before I force her back down.
"But at least I was strong enough to handle what they dished out," I bite back.
"Please snap out of this," he sounds almost frantic, "I won't ask any more questions."
His concerned face comes back into focus. "Sorry, I blank out sometimes." Grabbing my coat, I begin to button up the buttons. A mindless distraction to hide from his eyes, "it's been a bad week."
"I know."
"What do you know?" my head snaps up.
"You missed one," before I can stop him he fastens the button at the base of my throat. His face is level with mine, and once again I find myself caught in two burning pools of brown, "what's your name?"
I answer throwing him a crumb in hopes that he will back off. "It's from the myth. She marries Eros and then looses him," I jabber, "and then she...I don't know what happens next. I stopped reading because I knew it wasn't going to end well."
"Why?" comes the slightly amused question.
"She was human. He wasn't. They were doomed from the start."
He flinches.
Guess, I hit a nerve. "So that's me. And you are?" Immediately, I wish to take it back.
He looks as if I just punched him, "Max," he finally answers.
"That doesn't sound very Antarian."
"I'm not. Let's go." We're near the drop off point."
"But you healed--"
"I couldn't do anything," he says with a quite intensity, "it's always the same when it comes to the people that matter."
He nudges me forward.
Chat time obviously over for the moment. Sudden unexplainable mood swings, he's as an Antarian as they get.
Climbing a hill, headlights flash. Kyle emerges from the driver's side. How could I've been so stupid? To think, he actually cared for Tess. Obviously, they're really good at pretending. From the corner of my eye, I watch Max looking for some crack in his facade, but the haunted look he bares never falters. Instead, it seems to be growing.
Blonde curls peek out from the passenger window. Tess is alive.
Max takes off when he sees her. Pulling her out from the seat, he shoves her against the hood. "Whatever you did to her fix it."
"Max. Come on not here." Kyle says grabbing his arm, "the H&Ks can come back."
"Stay out of this. Fix her right now," he demands refusing to listen.
They never listen. Energy begins to build in me, but I push it back. Blasts won't be enough to bring him down. He's too strong. I need to do something dramatic. My eyes land on the gun holstered at Kyle's side.
"I didn't erase her memories," her forehead wrinkles as she tries to create a warp, but all the color drains from her face instead.
"What's the matter Tess. Loose something," Max hisses. "Maybe without your warps you'll do something you've never done in your life, tell the truth."
"It's encoded in me to protect her just as much as it's in you."
"Wrong answer."
He's angry, and Antarians only do one thing when they're angry. Using my mind, I reach out. Kyle's gun comes flying into my hand. I release the safety and place it to my temple, "You say I mean something to you. Prove it. Let her go or I'll do it."
It has the desired effect.
He releases Tess, "you don't know what she is Liz."
"THAT'S NOT MY NAME."
"Poppet losing your temper now are we?"
Whipping around, I see a flash of white behind some trees. I fire three shots, "You come near me, and I'll kill you. Do you hear me?" my voice shrieks, but it bares none of my patent reserve. Fear clings to every shrill syllable.
"Give me the gun," Max says quietly behind me.
Almost instantaneously my grip starts to lessen. Digging my nails into my palm, the surrender halts. I turn around. Releasing the safety, I point it at his chest. I want him just to go away and take this pull he has over me with him.
His hand lightly passes over the barrel until it covers my knuckles.
Coherent thoughts disappear as my new focus centers on the way his skin feels against mine. How his hand ignites a fire that spreads to the tips of my toes and up to the very ends of my hair. An angry buzz fills my head as each part of my body demands the same attention," I know how to use this. I could kill you if I want."
"I know you know how to use it because I taught you and as for killing me losing you basically did that already," his eyes blaze with a dark intensity.
"You're lying."
"I would never lie to you," his tone is adamant, "never," he repeats.
"Are you going to hurt Tess?"
His lips twitch, "no."
Yet, there's a second part to my question. One caution refuses to let me ask.
Are you going to hurt me?
Six little words that if they ever got out would mean the end. Permanent proof of the softness that still exists in me. Dormant pieces of a heart or soul that Khivar some how missed. Stimulated by some unknown force, I can feel their roots reach down into my permafrost. A tear falls down my cheek. This is his fault.
I press the gun harder into his stomach, "what did you do to me?"
"Why don't you ask the question you really want answered?"
Heat fills my face.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
"I don't believe you," the gun shakes in my grasp. Antarians can go from loving to psychotic in five seconds flat. Just ask Isabel.
"I promise that hurting you would be last thing I'd ever do."
"If you don't accept Silas I promise that me mind raping you will be least of your worries."
"I promise I can make you happy if you'd just stop making me hurt you."
"You have to let me put you down, and I'll warm you up. I promise."
I let go of the gun, and I have no idea why.
