Fandom: Night World, LJ Smith

Disclaimer: Call me not LJ.

Dedication: To Nils, to Steph, to Joe, and to Jared. Glompage.

EDIT: Also to Zaki. Because he's of the cool. To quote Snow Queen – "Why is he worth it?" … IMDb it if you are curious.

Summary: The fourth and final Wild Power needs to be found, and time is running out. Circle Daybreak is taking more desperate measures. But is accepting the aid of a traitor to the Night World desperation or brilliance? And what about their own agent - loose cannon Belladonna Turner?

Author Note at the end.

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Where There's Moonlight, I See Your Eyes

Chapter Nine

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I found him in the room just opposite mine – although none of the inner circle stay in Thierry's mansion, there are rooms set for us whenever one of our meeting's goes overtime. I stayed in the same safe house, the same enclave as Jez and Morgead and a bunch of the Old Souls we'd found.

I didn't know how I knew he was in there – I just did. I could sense that strange wintry-warm aura he seemed to have, a presence that both warmed me and made me shiver.

Soulmate connection? Must be. Soulmates? Definitely. In love with him? Not by choice.

Without bothering to knock, I threw the door open, stomping in and slamming it closed behind me. Nick was lying back on the huge bed, in just his jeans. The sight of him shirtless threw me for a moment, but then I steeled my resolve. Sure, the sight of his perfect, lithely-muscled body might've thrown ninety-nine percent of the female population off-guard, and his bored-looking, flawless features would have taken care of the remaining percent, but Belladonna Turner was made of stronger stuff. Damn straight. I forced my face into a thunderous expression and glared down at him, hands on my hips.

Surprisingly enough, he sat up gracefully, lazily. "What is it?"

"What is it?" I repeated, taken aback. "What is it?"

"You seem to be repeating yourself," Nick drawled.

My mouth fell open.

"You infuriate me, you know that? I'd happily strangle you."

Of course, that was only because he could make me blush. And forget what I wanted to say. And stutter.

Nick rolled his eyes slightly. "If you've come in to bitch and yell at me, you can just turn around right now."

I opened my mouth to snap something snide back, but no sound came out. I swallowed and tried again, but I just choked. And then, to my horror, I could feel warmth tracking down my cheeks. Shocked, I touched the warmness, and my fingers came away wet.

Tears.

I was crying. Me. Nick caught sight of my glistening cheeks and sat up, his face completely alert.

"Tears." Nick said, his voice sounding stunned. "You're…you're crying."

"No I'm not," I vehemently denied, brushing the back of my hand against my face to no avail. The tears continued to fall, faster and faster, until I had to take a huge, shuddering gasp to catch my breath. It didn't help – sobs caught in my chest and I couldn't breathe well enough. Nick stood and wrapped me in his arms.

"What's wrong Belladonna? What – why are you…?"

I shook my head, holding him close and hiding my face in his bare skin. "I don't…I don't know." The tears came more furiously, until I was all-out sobbing, crying brokenly. I couldn't stop – the tears seemed to fall of their own accord.

"Belladonna…please, please stop crying. What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong? I can't fix it if you don't –" Nick's voice stopped for a moment, as though he was saying something strange and foreign. When he spoke again, his voice was full of wonder. "I can't fix it if you don't tell me. And I want to fix it."

I felt him running a hand through my hair, down my back, soothing me quietly. And at that moment, I knew for sure, with no doubts in my mind that not only was he my soulmate, but that I loved him.

I loved him. Me, who had always sneered at the touchy-feely crap I'd seen from my friends in Daybreak. Belladonna Turner, who…who was too proud and too self-reliant to ever rely on someone else.

How could I love him? It sounded ridiculous. I didn't believe in love at first sight, and certainly not with someone whose views were in direct opposition to mine. We were nothing alike, we had nothing in common. If winter had taken on a face and a voice, if snow and hail and frost had all gathered themselves together to form a person, they would have made Nick. He was elemental in his beauty, his ruthlessness, his indifference. But I did love him. I could even pinpoint the first moment it happened – when I first saw his eyes, they captivated me – luminous and knife-sharp, strong and intelligent, full of secrets.

What was love, anyway? What was the point of love?

"You knew, didn't you?" I whispered, once the sobs had subsided. I was still in his arms, although now we were sitting on the bed, our arms still wrapped around each other. "You knew I was your soulmate when you first met me."

"I didn't know for sure. But when I saw you…" Nick trailed off, gazing at me with those uncannily beautiful eyes the color of starlight and moonbeams. He switched to telepathy.

When I walked into that room and saw you, I knew there was something special about you. I just knew instinctively that you'd change my life. It was so hard to ignore you when you spoke, to not turn and answer you. That night, on the balcony – I was angry because I could feel you chipping away at my walls. It was all I could do to not turn and kiss you. I'd never felt this way about anyone before. So I suspected.

"And the belladonnas?" I asked quietly.

"You worked your way into my mind. How could you not? You were beautiful, you were brave, intelligent and defiant."

And then, in my mind. You were everything I could ask for and more.

"Why did you help us?" my voice shook slightly, I didn't know why I was even bothering to ask these questions. Nothing he could say could change the way I felt. And it's a terrifying feeling, not the beauty and joy you think it'd be – you feel…trapped. But at the same time, you don't care, because you're somewhere you want to be. And there's your head and your heart warring every moment, each telling you different things.

"It felt like something I had to do." A standard Nick reply – noncommittal, aloof, explaining nothing. And yet, I loved him for it.

"I thought you hated me."

A silence. And then – "I kept asking you if you were scared. Do you remember?"

"I do."

"I kept asking because I wanted to know if you were scared of me, the same way I was scared of you and how you made me feel."

I kissed him. I couldn't help it, I didn't even plan it. But I did, a long kiss that turned wild. I felt as though electricity was flooding my every nerve, sending a mass of sweet shocks throughout my system. Hands moved, arms held, and I heard myself moan as his lips moved against mine.

"How do you do this to me?" Nick whispered breathlessly once I'd pulled away. I answered him with another question.

Nick, does it make any sense that the universe would pick you to be my soulmate? Do you think it's planned, that our personalities have to match, or it's done randomly?

I had to ask. I had to know, to understand whatever it was that had been taking me over since I'd first met him. It wasn't fair, the universe wasn't giving me a choice. We were basically incompatible, on every level – and yet…

Nick brushed his lips against my cheek, trailing down to my neck, leaving a burning sensation that made me close my eyes against the pleasure. We do match. I don't care what the universe thinks, but we do. We complement.

I must've looked skeptical, because he continued. I'm cold, you're warm. I anticipate, you precipitate. You never shut up – he nipped my neck, sending a thrill through me, and I reached my hands up to tangle in his hair, pulling his lips against mine and reveling in the dizzying sensation. And you never speak? I threw back, feeling him smirk against my lips.

That smirk annoys me.

I know, Nick returned. I loved seeing the expression on your face whenever I did it – it was sexy. I rolled my eyes. It was. Don't you realize how beautiful you are?

Well, I wasn't about to correct him.

Not to mention waking up that morning with you all over me, he said in a slightly more sardonic tone. I gasped, from both the shock the statement brought and the tingling feeling that Nick brought on as he inched his hand up under my top.

I thought you were asleep!

I'm lamia, Belladonna. You thought you were that sneaky? He kissed me again, this time on the forehead. I was at this point completely lost, lost in a flurry of thoughts and kisses – the pleasure of being completely open to him, having him see my thoughts and being able to see his; and the physical pleasure of his expert lips on various parts of my body. He slowly lowered me down onto the bed so I was on my back, his lips going from my neck to my stomach as he slowly pulled up my shirt, baring a small sliver of stomach.

It was torture, having you that close to me. Not to mention the bike ride…he trailed off wickedly, and I made a sound of protest, reaching up and yanking his head down to mine in a rough, hard kiss.

You were so cold. I had no idea that you were this…I trailed off.

I am cold. But if winter comes, can spring be far behind?

I grinned. Everything I'd said earlier – about Nick being passionless, cold, arctic – it was true on a level. But deeper inside, like the blue flame at the centre of a fire, he was full of passion. He was ardent, fiery, intense. Like the core of a flame – it didn't appear as hot as the yellow or red or orange, but it was even more consuming.

I lose myself when you're around. Nick told me, caressing my face delicately.

Me? What about you? I have to hold on for my life to keep from drowning in your eyes, I teased, my hands roaming up and down his hard body – from his abdominal muscles to his shoulders and back down. I watched his face in fascination as I moved my hands just a little lower and began fiddling with the waistband of his jeans. A curious mix of pleasure and pain, and a groan escaped his lips.

Belladonna –

Why do you always call me that? I asked, mildly annoyed but much too preoccupied with tracing my fingers torturously gently down his torso.

Because it means beautiful lady.

My vision blurred as Nick moved his weight on top of my body, his eyes and mine locked in a trancelike stare.

I'm not beautiful, I told him. You know, I always thought love was meant to happen to other people. Special people. Not me.

You are special. You are beautiful. He leaned his head down and captured my lips again, the skin-on-skin contact strengthening the mental bond between us. Why wouldn't you find love?

I'm just…me. Boring. Average.

You are you, and she's someone amazing. And that's all I want, he told me, shifting his attention to my clavicle. And you are anything but average.

A whimper escaped my lips by way of answer.

I love you, I said honestly, not sure what else to do. I don't know how or why, but I do. Is it even right?

Does it feel right?

It feels…perfect. Beyond right. I hissed as Nick pulled my top up farther, just below my bra. He kissed his way up and down – to just below my breasts to back down, at that spot just below my belly button.

It's meant to be. I love you, he said, returning to my lips. I love you.

I love you too, I replied, surprised at how right, how…perfect…the words felt. So I hadn't known him for long. I already knew him – I'd been into his mind. Perhaps finding your soulmate lacked the mystery and twists and turns of actually falling in love, but the feeling of knowing someone in and out, of belonging completely, was exhilarating. I placed my hand over the place in his chest his heart was – entranced by the steady beats, the way it harmonized with my own.

Nick broke the kiss and moved his lips languidly to the hollow of my throat. I arched my neck, exposing it like both a lover and a victim. Slowly, reverently, he pulled off my shirt, gently tugging the soft fabric over my head and tossing it to the floor. I guided his hands to my back, and he easily removed the clasp of my bra, adding that to the floor. I pulled him closer to me, enjoying the sensation of his hard, flat-muscled body against my own softer one. Heat moved from his body to mine, from mine to his. We were slowly scorching each another with our passion, with our fire. Cold? Nick? Never. His hands moved over my body, a curious heady mix of gentle yet demanding, possessive yet awed.

Our skin-on-skin contact made my thoughts reel, all my faultless logic escape my mind. This girl here was my other side, the one I'd seen that first night I'd encountered Nick – brave and bold and daring. And yet, she was thoughtful, controlled, deliberate.

I reached down and unbuttoned Nick's jeans, tugging them down as best I could.

Belladonna…are you sure?

I said nothing but let him into my mind, so he would see the answer for himself. I love you, I replied simply. What is there to wait for?

With a heart full to bursting and a passion I never suspected he possessed, he kissed me again, fully, deeply. I felt myself opening up to his light, to his strength. I wanted him, wanted him like I've never wanted anyone else. I wanted to completely bury myself in him, entirely and completely. It was perfect, because I knew that he was made for me and me for him. I pulled off his jeans, fumbling and tugging until they came off, and he kicked them off the bed, refusing to lift his lips from my own. Wherever he touched I felt fire and ice, and I knew he felt the same. I could feel his ice-bright mind and crystalline thoughts around me as well, touching me as intimately mentally as he was physically. His long, elegant fingers wandered down, leisurely taking their time. I wriggled a little, impatient, burying my hands in his silvery-blond hair. He smirked against my lips.

Nick, if you don't –

Hush. His fingers started pulling on the waist of my jeans.

I hushed.

Once the remaining articles of clothing had been ridded, Nick looked at me, simply looked.

Belladonna – you're sure? I just…I want this to be perfect.

It is perfect. Because it's you.

He sank down beside me, trailing his hand down my body, his lips following. I felt tiny shudders whenever, wherever he touched.

You're my first, I admitted, as he kissed my eyelids, my forehead, and finally my lips.

I'll be your first, and I'll be your last, he promised me, our limbs instinctually embracing each other. I was clinging to him as though he was my salvation, my heart and soul, my everything. He was the thunder and I was the lightning. I was clinging to him desperately, wanting more and more. He made me shiver with ecstasy, moan with pleasure, gasp with rapture. Everything I saw and felt was starlight and wonder, and when I began spiraling into that starlit oblivion, our minds and bodies were perfectly melded together, joined as one.

What's the point of love?

Maybe it's one of those pointless things that we just can't resist. Maybe it's something – the only thing – that compels us to give our all.

I suppose the beauty of love is this: it doesn't have to have a point. You don't love for a reason, because then love becomes conditional. You love because you do. There's no set explanation, no logical process to it. It's a shifting blend of colors, each one more beautiful, more heartbreaking, more joyful, more painful that the last.

Must love have a point? Loving when there is no point is far more beautiful, far more glorious, far more heroic than loving because there is a point. The fire and the joy that come from love come from those two people who can connect on a level not explainable by science, psychology, logic.

And I knew that no matter how dark the future would become, whatever terrors the night would bring – I'd always have tonight. I would always remember tonight…for it was the beginning of always.

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Huh. That was your author, breaking new ground. 0o Anyway, please read and review.

Sorry for the delay, I've moved countries and I have no computer yet. is for some unknown reason blocked from my college computers, and so I have to hijack my friend's laptop. Go read her, she's arashimine on Leave her a review, she's a sweetheart.

Anyway. Sorry again. Leave a review! Many hearts.

Notes

All thoughts regarding love – must have full credit given to my dearly beloveds, namely, Stephanie K, Nils L, and Joseph E. Oh, and also Jared H, but he is certainly not a dearly beloved. And oh my God, if you know any of them and mention this, I think I just might shoot myself in humiliation. I think I'm going to delete their last names and just use their initial. Done. Okay. Good.

Remember tonight… - this line is a very famous quote from Dante Alighieri.

- WalkThruTheFire.