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Chapter 3
3 weeks later
They were in bed again, her scent was driving him mad. He needed to give her a bath. He lifted her arm, nuzzling his nose into the cave of her armpit. She smelled so good. He gave her a lick and she giggled squirming away from him half-heartedly.
"That tickles." She blinked at him sleepily and yawned. He let his face fall into the hollow of her neck, she was intoxicating.
"If you're too tired I can go to the Luna Mesa." He offered.
"No!" she gripped him with surprising strength. "I'm not too tired, stay. Please stay." She pleaded.
She was lying, he should go. He licked behind her ear. But she tasted so good and she smelled like heaven. He didn't want to go to the Luna Mesa, whatever his father had found would be disappointing, but Zia needed to rest.
He propped himself up on his elbows and pushed a lock of hair away from her face. She blinked up at him, her face strained with hurt and worry. He had found her, nobody had given Zia to him that made all the difference. She sat in his seat on her own, he questioned her on his own, his father had given his approval but that had been just a formality, Zia had already accepted his offer, the devil himself couldn't have stopped him from fucking her by then.
Just one more time, then he'd bath her. It would be easier when her sent wasn't so damn strong.
4 weeks later
He was fucking her too hard, her cries were loud enough to penetrate the high he was riding. He looked down at her, her face was red, she was pushing him away. It didn't make sense, she hadn't felt pain in months, it was only pleasure for them now. He gripped her by the back of the neck, bringing her mouth to his. He swallowed her cries, her tears wetting his cheeks. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, it was so good, if she could just cum it would be better. He drank her tears and let himself go, he couldn't wait any longer.
He rested a bit, his face in her hair breathing in the sweet bouquet of her locks before he pulled out of her. The amount of blood on his dick was disgusting. She rolled onto her side and pressed her legs together to ease the pain. His mind cleared, he could have killed her. The scent of her fresh blood floated up to him, making his mouth water, Mac threw a blanket over her to hide the aroma. He sat at the edge of the bed and stared at his blood stained member. The blood was drying it's smell changing from hypnotic to nauseating. Zia's dead blood was revolting.
He remembered the woman he killed, a mouthy heroin addict. He'd shoved his cock in her mouth and kept it there, he fucked her head so he wouldn't have to hear her yammering, and by the time he was done, she had suffocated.
He felt nothing when she died, just like he'd felt nothing when he'd lost the rest of them, but Zia's blood was an accusation. The stench was a punishment. He went to the shower, then to the store, he knew what he needed to do.
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Mac was wrestling Zia into the tub. "Get the fuck in!"
"I don't want to! I don't like that soap." She was throwing a tantrum and he was reminded again of a child. She angrily slapped the water, intentionally drenching him. He lost patience and punched her, knocking her out. He washed her quickly with the most perfumed soap he could find. He wrapped her in a towel and threw her over his shoulder. She smelled awful, there was not a hint of her natural scent in the air, he threw her down on the bed and wiped his hands on his legs.
He paced the room until she woke up.
"I'm leaving, I'll be back later."
"I told you not to wash me with that." She pouted. "Now you're going with someone else aren't you?"
He grabbed hold of her neck and slammed her into the bed. "It's for your own Goddamn good. Don't you get that? What the fuck is wrong with you?" he screamed into her face, the lavender smell of the soap assaulting his senses and making him even angrier.
"Can't you wait Mac? Can't you wait till I'm go..ugh." He slapped her before she could finish.
"Shut the fuck up. You don't tell me what to do." His voice low and menacing, he let her go. She tried to reach out for him but he jerked away. She let her hand fall, eyes filling up with tears again, he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
He stormed around the house, the wind outside picking up to matched his temper. The windows were shaking, a tempest raging around his home and in his soul.
No one would go out in this weather, he could go to the Luna Mesa, he could go anywhere and he wouldn't find a bitch. He threw open the door and stepped outside, his rage was taken up with the sand, it filled him and surrounded him.
2 weeks later
He hadn't wandered again. Zia waited for him, once she knew he wasn't going out, she stopped crying and waited. For two days he stayed away, on the third he took her outside. The storm was still going strong, three days and it hadn't let up, he let the wind take the perfume from her skin. She was happy, she hugged him tight as the canyon sand whipped around them.
Now they were back to normal, three days had done wonders for her and the positive effects had lasted. ….So far.
3 weeks later
Zia was moaning underneath him, stretching her neck to give him long languid kisses. Everything she did now was slow, like she was perpetually under water. Mac caressed her body as he moved inside her slow and hard, his favorite way to fuck now. She sighed into his mouth and he inhaled deeply, her warm breath spreading inside his lungs, filling him up.
She shuddered and was still, he debated on whether to continue but it was no fun when she was unconscious. He sped up to find his release, her involuntary twitching spurring him on, he filled her with his cum and relaxed, keeping himself sheathed inside her, he laid his head on her chest. He listened to her heart beat, it was slow, too slow. His head snapped up.
"Zia?" she didn't stir. "Zia!" her eyes fluttered open and she gave him a lazy grin.
"I love you Mac." He's heart skipped a beat, he began fucking her hard and fast. She immediately responded, wrapping her legs around him and arching her back to press her breasts up against his chest.
"God I love you so much." she yelled as another orgasm ripped through her. Her muscles clenched keeping him firmly in place as she rode out her pleasure. He brought his mouth to hers, sucking in her breath, tasting her tongue. The absolute need to just devour her never having been so strong. He wrapped his arms around her thin body and licked and sucked and fucked until he exploded.
He awoke a few hours later with Zia curled up in his arms, she looked pale and spent. He reached over to the night stand and grabbed the cup of water he'd begun keeping there.
He shook her awake, "Zia drink this."
She reached slowly for the glass but her arm lost strength half way there and fell back onto his chest. He put the glass down and sat up, dragging her with him so her body was propped up against his. He brought the glass to her lips so she could drink. He could tell she tried but the water just dribbled down her chin. His heart began pounding in his chest, he let the glass fall, wetting them both, he didn't care and Zia didn't even notice. He dragged her onto his lap and held her tightly, burying his nose in her hair.
"It's time isn't it." she whisper into his chest. He squeezed her tighter. She placed a soft kiss on his chest and that was the last time she moved. He held her until she was cold, then he bathed her and dressed her, he chose the outfit she wore when he met her, baggy jeans that were enormous on her now, the blue t-shirt that was practically a tent on her small frame and he left her feet bare. He laid her out on the bed and walked outside, lighting a cigarette in the hopes that the hot smoke would warm the ice in his chest.
Mac puffed away and looked out into the canyons, right about now he'd be driving into the desert to dump the body, a lazy breeze blew around and around his backyard but it brought him no comfort tonight.
"No, not this one." he said to the sandy mountains, he flicked his cigarette watching as it rode the soft wind out into the night. He grabbed a shovel and began digging.
He covered her grave in flowers, every desert flower he could find. Zia slept under the most beautiful blanket the canyons had to offer.
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Mac had been out of control since the death of Zia. Walter didn't even bother pointing out drifters to him anymore, especially since the last two after Zia had run from the Luna Mesa restroom half naked, bleeding and screaming, Mac's maniacal laughter chasing after them.
Walter didn't know what to do with him, all Mac did now was work and fight, a small entourage had formed around him, the worst of Cainsville drawn to his angry energy. Then Devon and Regina showed up.