Chapter Seven Driving up to the house, Bryn had the sudden urge to tell John to turn around and race back in the other direction. She'd only been to her parent's home various times since moving, none of them all that pleasant. She avoided holidays for this very reason...the queasy dread that coursed through her during the entire drive north. It was a little over a two hour drive...she just hoped she'd given Anton correct directions. If he didn't show up after dinner like he'd promised, she knew she was going to get sick. They hadn't called before going. She knew if she gave them ample warning, her parents would probably find some excuse not to be home. Pulling to a stop in the driveway, John gave her a glance before opening his door. "You ok?" "Yeah." She hopped down from the truck, letting the neighbors dogs run over to sniff her with tails wildly wagging. Walking slowly up to the door, she swallowed heavily. "Go ahead," she said, as John was about to open the door. Her parents paused in the middle of dinner, both of them looking shocked at their surprise guests. "John," her father said, standing up to shake his hand. When he noticed her standing behind him, his eyes widened slightly. "Mandy." She let her father pull her into an awkward hug. He'd never been as emotionally distant as her mother, but the embrace was still startling. And he still smelled like horses and leather. It was weird the way the memories came flooding back, making her want to cry. Noticing her discomfort, John decided to draw the attention back to himself. "You mind if we grab some dinner, too? I know you always make enough for a small army, Mom." Looking flustered, Bernadette nodded, pulling together the sides of her ratty old robe. "Go right ahead." Bryn followed closely as he made his way into the kitchen and started fixing two plates. She had to admit the fried chicken smelled good. Mashed potatoes and peas. It had been a long time since she'd tasted her mother's cooking. If there was one thing Bernadette Pruitt never slouched on, it was a good meal. Watching their parents through the open doorway, John whispered, "I'll sit down next to Mom. I think it might be more comfortable that way." She gave him a shaky smile. "Thanks." He walked into the dining room, sitting down on one of the vinyl chairs, grunting with pleasure as he bit into a juicy piece of chicken. Bryn looked in the refrigerator, and hastily grabbed a can of root beer. There was a bottle of Bud Light on the door, and she was tempted to take it, but she'd always hated the taste of beer...no matter how much it make take the edge off her flustered nerves. Walking back to the table, she sat down and noticed her father smiling at her. It unnerved her to say the least. "This is nice," Steven said. "We haven't had the family at the table in quite a while. You look well, Amanda. How've you been?" "Actually," John interrupted, emphasizing his next word, "Sabryn has some news for you." Her father looked flustered for a moment, but recovered. "Yes, Sabryn...what is it you wanted to tell us?" "Um..." she shifted her peas around on her plate, feeling like a seven year old again. Only, this time, a seven year old playing make believe. "I'm getting married." Her mother's mouth dropped open, and for a moment Bryn wanted to sock her in the chin. Until she said, "That's wonderful news." She couldn't help but be suspicious. "It is?" "Of course it is," her father said. She felt like she'd just entered the Twilight Zone. She looked nervously between them, expecting one or both to rip their face off. Next to her, John grinned, choking slightly on his mashed potatoes. "OK..." she said, hesitantly. "When do we get to meet him?" Steven put his fork down on the table, giving his daughter his full attention. "Or are you too ashamed of us to bring him around?" "Um, no, he's going to meet us here later tonight." "What's his name?" Bernadette asked. "Anton Rudenko." She saw them exchange a look at that. "What's going on here?" "Hmm? Nothing," her father said. "We're just curious." "Why? You never were before." Bernadette sighed heavily. "You see, this hostile attitude of yours is exactly why we never invite you over here." "No, you never invite me over here because you're ashamed of me...and the aliens, right, Mom?" "Don't back talk to your mother!" Steven hollered. Sensing growing tension, John backed up his chair slightly...but didn't stop eating. Sabryn could feel her face turning red. Damn it. It would probably be hours before Anton showed up. If she didn't kill someone, or herself, by then, it would be a miracle. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. "We haven't set a date yet, but we're probably getting married around September. But, before that happens, I wanted you to know that I'll be moving to San Francisco." Finally, John stopped eating. "You didn't tell me that." "I was going to, tonight." He looked slightly hurt. "Well that's nice to know. What are we supposed to do with the kids during the day?" "I'll be here for another week or so. And after that, you can hire Margie." "Margie is never home!" "John, we'll figure something out. I promise." "So you're moving in with this man before you marry him?" her mother asked. Sabryn sighed. "Yes, I am." "Living in sin?" She couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, Mother...but it really shouldn't make a difference because he's been sleeping in my bed for almost a week now." Her mother's expression was priceless. "And I had sex with him the first time I met him." She wasn't particularly surprised when her father got up and left the room. Nor was she surprised when her mother went back to her meal and ignored everything else. But she wasn't expecting the disappointed gaze John gave her before silently returning to his dinner. Pushing her plate away, she stood up and went in search of her father. She stepped out the back door, and saw her father sitting on the porch swing, smoking a cigarette. He'd never smoked when she was a child. It was only as she grew up that he adopted the bad habit. Maybe he needed it to deal with his disappointment in her. Or maybe the disappointment was a bad habit of its own. She stood there silently for a moment, just watching him. He still looked like her daddy. Maybe older and a little rounder, but he was still the same man who carried her on his shoulders when she was five. Still the person who joked with her, made her happy, and made her want to marry a man just like him. She wrinkled her nose at the thought, now. She prayed Anton never turned into this man. This miserable shell of a human being. He seemed to loathe life now. Sometimes she wondered why he kept living it...maybe he was just too scared there might not be a God to end it. He polluted his body, lived with an emotionally abusive and unloving woman, and worked himself raw for nothing. He had a beautiful farm...but farming wasn't his main occupation. He did it, she suspected, to keep himself busy so he wouldn't have to deal with Bernadette. She could feel her heart pounding as she stepped closer. Her parents never beat her as a child. She didn't suffer broken bones or bruised ribs because of them. But in some way the damage was done just the same. The result was the same. She felt unlovable. It was the same reason she kept inadvertently pushing Anton away. She was afraid he might come to the same conclusion. Trying not to focus on anything but the present, Sabryn sat down on the porch swing with her father and quietly watched the night sky darken. He didn't say a word for a really long time. Just silently puffing away on his cigarette. She had the urge to cough, but settled with clearing her throat instead. "I don't know what you thought you were doing, coming here," he finally said, "but I don't appreciate being told like this." He turned to look at her, and for the first time she noticed the hurt lingering in his eyes. "All of this time, I wondered when you would come back. You never did, until tonight. And only to tell us you're leaving." She picked at a hangnail on her finger, avoiding his gaze. "You never invited me, Dad. Why would I come visit when I'm not invited?" He made a sound of disagreement. "You're always invited here. You know that." "Do I?" When she looked up to meet his gaze, she couldn't hide the tear that suddenly dribbled down her face. Pushing it away hastily, she said, "Why would I ever think you wanted me here? You certainly didn't when I lived here." "That's bull." He dropped his cigarette, crushing it under his shoe. "What makes you say that?" She got the sudden urge to laugh. "You're kidding, right? Do I have to name all of the times that you ignored me, or paid more attention to John, or just plain didn't believe a word I said?" "I--" He lifted up his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I don't know what to tell you. I guess I'm not very good at raising a daughter." "Maybe because you never tried." "That's not fair, Mandy." "Sabryn." "Fine. Sabryn." He put his arm across the back of the swing, pushing off with his foot. "I don't know why you've turned this all around on me. We were talking about you." "Because this is about you, Dad!" He looked a little shocked that she'd yelled at him. "God, I wish you could see what you've done to me. I almost pushed away the very best thing in my life because I thought I didn't deserve it. I thought I didn't deserve to be loved. That's what I learned, growing up here. That I was wrong, and a liar. That I was nothing." "You know that's not true--" He paused, leaning forward to brace his arms on his thighs. I was several minutes before he spoke again. "I never meant to make you feel that way, honey." She closed her eyes at that word. [God, Anton, where are you?] "Yeah, well it's over now," she said, softly. "Is he a good man?" She met his gaze. He looked genuinely concerned. "Yes, he is. He loves me very much." Putting his hand on her knee, ignoring the fact that his touch made her jump, he nodded. "I'm happy for you. You deserve to be loved, Sabryn. I never meant to do anything to make you think otherwise." She half turned when she heard the sound of a car door closing. "That will be him." "Go on, then. I'll meet you inside in a few minutes." "Thanks, Dad." Not wanting to face the people inside, she skirted around the house, intercepting Anton as he was about to knock on the door. "My dear, what are you doing out here?" He smiled, but looked concerned when she wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against her chest. "Bryn, what's wrong?" She sniffled slightly. "I think this has been the longest day ever." She looked up to meet his gaze, her eyes ringed with red. "I've never been so glad to see you in my life." He nearly gave her a smile at that, but bit it back. "What's going on?" "Typical parent crap. My mother's being her sweet self," she said, sarcastically. "At least my dad seems to be in a good mood. I hope, anyway." "Did you want to wait for a minute, before going in?" She shook her head, grabbing his hand and holding on with a surprisingly strong grip. "Let's go. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can go back home." She opened the front door, pulling him along behind her as she made her way into the kitchen. Her mother and brother were in the process of putting away the freshly-washed dishes, and her father sat at the table with a bottle of beer. He stood up as they came closer, seeming to assess Anton. Sabryn gave his hand a little squeeze, and turned to smile at him when he squeezed back. "Dad, this is my fiancé, Anton. And Anton, this is my dad, Steven Pruitt." Steven reached out and shook his hand, smiling. "Good to meet you." "The pleasure is all mine," he said, firmly returning to handshake. He let go of Bryn's hand as he did so, but quickly pulled her closer to him the minute his hand was free. "And this is my mom, Bernadette. Although sometimes she goes by Bennie." "Only your father gets away with that, Amanda," the woman said, stepping forward. She looked Anton up and down, as if studying a painting. After a moment or two, she held her hand forward for him to shake. "I'll be certain to make a note of that." He took her hand and shook it firmly. He thought briefly about trying to charm her the way he had the mothers of his other lovers, but decided it would not be worth his time. He had noted the way Sabryn slightly winced when her mother called her Amanda. "Hi John, I didn't see you standing there." John gave him a wave from the sink. "You want a beer, Anton?" "Yes, thank you." No one seemed to say anything for a beat after that. Anton murmured a quiet thanks to John as he handed him the open, chilled bottle. "This is a beautiful farm," he said, seeking to deflect some of the attention from Sabryn. "Has it been in the family long?" "Uh, no," Steven said, looking out the sliding glass door. "We can show you around the place, if you'd like?" "That would be nice." He took a slow drink of his beer, before following Sabryn and her father outside. Although it was growing darker, the moon was still full enough to see where they were going. They walked along the narrow path towards the barn, single file, stopping as her father pointed out various things along the way. The filbert trees growing along side the garden, which Sabryn had helped plant. Places where fir trees were ripped up by their roots during hard winter ice storms. The fence to the back pasture. As her father kept walking, Sabryn slowed down a bit and spoke so only Anton could hear her. "Are you nervous?" "What makes you say that?" "Well, if that bottle were any fuller, you'd be sloshing it all over yourself." He glanced down at his hand, giving her a sheepish grin. "Guess I am. Surprised, my dear?" Reaching out for his hand, she smiled. "You don't have to be the nervous one, Anton. I'm more worried about you liking them, than I am about them liking you." She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his jaw. "Come on, let's go see the horses." Threading his fingers through hers, he let her guide him to a barn with an attached fence. "Looks like they're out grazing," Steven said. He whistled sharply to attract the horses attention. Anton watched with an assessing eye as the horses trotted up. They were well cared for animals, built for pleasure riding. Not like the Great Horses he had grown up riding. "Which is the one that Lindy claims tried to kill her?" "That'd be Whiskey," Sabryn said, pointing at the palomino. "Beautiful horse." After allowing Whiskey to sniff his upturned palm, Anton patted her on the neck. "Is she registered?" "AQHA," her father said. "Although she tries to make you think she's a mutt, the little rascal." He opened the large stall door, inviting Sabryn and Anton inside. Bryn instantly walked over to the mare and hugged her neck, scratching her behind the ears. Looking at her belly, she patted it and said, "Jeez, she's getting fat." "She's pregnant." That caught her attention. "How? Moonshine is fixed." "Yup." Steven leaned against the wall. "Had her bred with the Van Horn's stud." "That big black horse? He'd kill her!" At Anton's sudden lip twitch, she added, "He's mean. He bites little kids when they walk home from school. He'll literally reach out of his fence and nip at them as they walk by." "Yeah, well, we made sure he couldn't hurt her. She's fine. And she's going to have one hell of a foal in spring." She turned her attention back to the mare, looking concerned as she petted her muzzle. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about the news. "Are you gonna have a baby, sweetheart?" she murmured, giggling as the horse seemed to nod its head. "You're such a good girl." She turned back to Anton, biting her lip slightly. "I've had her since she was two years old." Steven pushed himself away from the wall and headed for the gate. "Well, I guess that's about all we've got worth any interest around here. You two go ahead and take a look around. I'm sure she can give you a better tour than I can." He patted Anton on the shoulder as he headed out of the barn. "I'll see you up at the house." She waited until her father was out of earshot before saying, "He likes you. Anyone who likes Dad's horses is an immediate shoe-in." "I'm glad I'm a hit with one of your parents. I get the distinct feeling your mother doesn't particularly care for me." He gave Whiskey one last pat before moving on to examine Moonshine. "Pity we can't take them out for a ride." "Who says we can't?" She gave him a little grin, reaching for one of the bridles on the wall. "I've got to warn you now, though. He likes to run." "You think I can't handle that?" She laughed slightly, before shoving Moonshine's saddle in his direction. After his slight oomph at the weight, she said, "We'll see." "Anton! Slow down!" She felt like she was waddling after him on her fat little mare. Clucking with her tongue, she coaxed Whiskey into a gallop and hurried after him. It felt good to have the wind blowing in her face. As much fun as it had been riding with Lindy, she'd spent most of that time at a slow trot. Moonshine was not built to trot. Thankfully, Anton appeared to be a natural in the saddle. Both horse and rider moved with grace and ease across the flat pasture, racing across the moonlit ground. Letting go of the reins, she put her arms out and felt the wind whipping past. She kind of wished she'd been able to see Anton back when riding was his only mode of transportation. Well, other than carriages. He must have been magnificent on horseback. He looked over his shoulder to see her catching up to him and slowed his mount even more. "What's that look for?" "Nothing," she said, scooping up the reins once more. "You look good on a horse. Shame you can't ride one all the time." "I did. It's not good on your ass." She giggled. "Were you ever a knight?" "Something like that." He slowed Moonshine to a walk, pulling the gelding even with Sabryn's mount. "I was the son and heir of a lord, and expected to know how to ride and fight should the need arise. Thankfully, that didn't happen too often." "Your father was a lord? Why am I not surprised you're nobility?" He laughed at that. "That was a long time ago, Bryn. I don't think of myself that way anymore." A sad look came into his eyes with the next sentence. "And I wasn't Ivan's biological son, although he treated me as such." They rode on in silence for a few more minutes before he started talking again. "I was abandoned by my parents when I was two years old, Bryn. The villeins of my father's estate found me and brought me to the keep." "To find your parents?" "No, nothing like that." A faint trace of bitterness came into his voice. "Lord Ivan was not only the ruler of the estate, but a vampire as well. He ruled fairly, but with an iron fist. The villeins thought if they left me as a sacrifice, he would not take one of their own." "Is that how you..." "No. His consort, the Lady Katerina wanted children desperately. When she saw me, naked, dirty, and half starved, she begged Lord Ivan for a chance to raise me. He gave his assent, and eventually named me his son and heir." "Well, I'm glad you found someone to love you, Anton. You must miss them." He nodded quietly, looking over at her as she stopped her horse. She looked uneasy. Down a small slope before them, a shallow creek winded its way through the field, growing marshy at one point, before smoothly flowing into the trees beyond. It was very pretty sparkling in the moonlight, but he got the feeling she didn't exactly agree. "There something about this place you don't like?" "Well, I'm sure you don't exactly believe me, but this is where I was abducted when I was seven." He opened his mouth to respond, but she held a hand up. "It's OK...sometimes I'm not even sure I believe it." She was quiet for a moment, before speaking again. "This place gives me the creeps at night. And you know, the funny thing is, I can't remember most of. Hell, I could have been kidnapped by a Mafia men in a black helicopter and it still would have seemed the same to me. And maybe I'll get lucky someday, and find out it was something innocuous like that. But I don't...I don't think it was." She turned her head to look at him. "You know--deep down where it counts? I feel like whomever it was that took me did something to me. I wasn't the same when I came back. I might have looked the same, and the doctors found nothing wrong with me, but it just felt wrong. Then again, that could be all of the ridicule I faced in the following years." "Bryn," he said softly reaching his hand out to her. He wanted to hold her so badly, but that was impossible on horseback. He gripped her hand tightly, not really sure what to say. He hoped she could see the concern that he was feeling right now. "Do you want to go back?" She nodded, letting go of his hand. "I want to go home." "OK." Turning his horse around, he waited a moment for her to do the same. She stared up at the sky, shivering, before wheeling her mare around and giving it a sharp pat on the butt. She seemed to be racing him back to the barn. By the time they'd brushed down the horses and started heading back to the house, they could barely see the path in front of them. She held on to his hand tightly as they walked back into the house. Except for a few lights in the living room, the place was in total darkness. Seeing her dad sitting on the couch, she asked, "Where is everyone?" "John said he needed to go home, so he could get up early," he said, standing up. "And your mother went to bed." At Sabryn's angry look, he turned his attention back to Anton. "You'll have to excuse Bernadette for being so rude. She's--" "She's always like this," Sabryn interrupted. "She's probably feeling a little more shocked by the news of your moving than she let on," Steven finally said. "I think she might be a little hurt." "Fat chance." Steven heaved a sigh. "Anyway, she got this out...for you to take with you." He picked up a heavy box, a little larger than a clothing box, and handed it to her. "You might want to wait until you get home to open it." "It doesn't have dead rats in it, does it?" Her father actually laughed at that. "No, it doesn't." She nodded, before awkwardly hugging her dad once again. Twice in one day. It had to be a record. "We should get going." "All right. You are going to write or call every once in a while, right?" "Yeah." "And a wedding invitation might be nice." When she nodded, he said, "OK. Well, I guess this is good-bye. Nice to meet you, Anton." "Likewise," Anton said, stepping back as Steven opened the door. Allowing Sabryn to walk past, he softly said, "Take care of her." "I have no intention of doing otherwise, sir," he replied equally soft. At her father's nod, he turned his attention to Sabryn. "Let me help you with that, my dear." She passed him the box and they heard the door shut behind them. He glanced at her as they walked to his car. "Are you okay, Bryn?" She pushed her hair away from her face, shaking her head. "No." Balancing the box on one hip, he put his other arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his side. He wasn't really surprised to see tears sparkling in her eyes, but it worried him all the same. "You sure you don't want to go up and say something to your mom before we go?" "No, let's just go," she said, the words half muffled against his coat. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head before opening her door for her. Once she was seated inside, he handed her the box. She settled it on her lap, staring at it as if in boredom. Walking around to the other side of the car, he slid behind the steering wheel, and started the engine, looking over at her as the car warmed up. "What do you think is in there?" "Probably just some of my old stuff that I mistakenly left in one of her closets." He reached across the back of their seats, stroking her cheek with his knuckles. "You never know, she might surprise you." She looked out of the window, listless. "Don't bet on it." She knew that this would be happening sooner or later. Anton had told her that he and Sabryn were discussing going back to San Francisco. Normally, she'd be relieved to be heading back home. But this time, there were other considerations. Lindy tapped the edge of her glass with a fingertip, wondering how she'd face Nathaniel. She wanted to go back to San Francisco, where she was more comfortable, her territory. But at the same time she did not want to leave here, not when things were developing with Nathaniel. [And speak of the devil,] she thought as she saw him enter the bar. He did look devilishly handsome dressed in black on black. The casual suit clung to him in all the right places, remaining loose enough to give a tantalizing clue in others. "Hey, gorgeous," he said, slipping into the booth besides her. He kissed her cheek. "What is it?" he asked when she didn't respond. "Um... I don't know how to say this..." Lindy stared at the lip of her glass. "The business my partner and I came here to conduct is just about complete. We'll be leaving soon, going back to San Francisco." His grin faded slightly. "How soon?" "Within a week." "That fast?" He shrugged when she nodded. "Well, that doesn't give me much time to get ready." "Huh?" Lindy looked him in his eyes for the first time that night. "You heard me, gorgeous." He smiled at her confused look. "I told you that I'm not going to back off. If I have to pick up and follow you across the country, then so be it." "You'd really do that?" she asked. "You're insane," she added when he nodded. "Yup. That's the general consensus." He put his arm around her waist. "You're not going to be getting rid of me that easily, Lindy. I'd follow you into the dawn if you asked it of me." He squeezed gently, placing a kiss on her temple. "So where would you like to go tonight?" She smiled a bit shyly. "Back to your rooftop hideaway." They drove in silence back to her home. Anton watched Sabryn out of the corner of his eye, worried about her. From her sad expression and slumping body language, it was clear that she had been deeply affected by her visit to her parents. Respecting the fact that she wasn't ready to talk about it, he placed his hand over hers when he didn't need it to drive. He pulled into the driveway and stopped the car. "Do you want to talk about it, Bryn?" "No." She unlocked the car door and opened it. He got out as well and hurried around to the other side to carry the box for her. Arm around her shoulder and slightly behind her, Anton followed Bryn into the house and up the stairs. Once in her room, he placed the box on a low table and walked over to the bed. "Come here, Bryn." He waited until she was standing in front of him. "I understand a little better why you think you're unlovable, Bryn. But I don't think that your parents stopped loving you, I think they just don't know how to show it. They blamed you for their inability to deal with the situation. And that," he said, kissing her lightly on the nose, "is truly tragic. "Now I'd say there's a few things we've got to get done tonight. You will open up the box, have a good cry while I hold you, and then I will make passionate love to you. Or I will make passionate love to you and then you open the box and I hold you while you cry. But either way, we get through this together and get you healing before the night is over. "So which will it be?" She smiled at him for the first time since leaving Pennsylvania. Leaning her head against his collarbone, she wrapped her arms around his waist. "I love you so much, Anton." Threading his fingers through her hair, he kissed her temple. "I love you, too, Bryn." Lifting her face, she met his gaze. "I think I'd rather open the box first. To get it over with." "OK." He walked over to the table and picked up the box, walking back towards the bed as she stripped off her jacket and shoes. Sitting down on the comforter, he pulled her closer and placed the box in front of her. "Whenever you're ready, my dear." She took a deep breath and lifted the lid. She wasn't quite sure what she expected, but it wasn't the homemade scrapbook sitting before. Covered in quilted material, with a cross-stitched flower bouquet in the center, it looked more like something her grandmother would make. Lifting it out of the box, she set it on her lap and scooted back next to Anton so he could have a better look. "This something you left behind?" "No, I've never seen it before." Untying the silk ribbon that held the scrapbook closed, she flipped open the cover. "Oh my God." Clustered on the first page were three things: a picture of her parent's wedding, her birth certificate, and a picture of three-year-old John holding his baby sister in his lap. She shook her head, turning another page. More mementos filled the following pages; a lock of baby hair, tied with a ribbon. Pictures of her first steps, and her first McDonald's french fry. Artwork she'd done in elementary school. Yet none of this was as surprising as the keepsakes from the age of seven to the present. Newspaper clippings about her "supposed" abduction. That made her cringe. Pictures of her as a gangly teenager, unaware of the camera. She flipped through the rest of the pages hastily, feeling tears threaten. On the very last page, there was a torn out article from her recent gallery showing. Pushing the scrapbook away from her, she leaned back against Anton and gave in to the tears that had been threatening all evening. He gently rocked her back and forth as she cried, stroking her hair. To be completely honest he was a little choked up. [Why do mortals insist on making things so difficult for themselves when they have so little time?] She took a shuddering breath, reaching up to wrap her arm around his neck from the front. She pressed her forehead just under his jaw, and struggled to stop the sobs. After a long while, it finally started working. When she was reduced to pitiful sniffles, she leaned over and grabbed a Kleenex off her nightstand, blowing her nose before throwing the wadded up tissue in the garbage. She boxed up the scrapbook again, placing it on the floor, before sagging back weakly against him. They were both quiet for a few minutes. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice scratchy. "For what?" "Being here, whenever I need you." "I always will be." He kissed her forehead. "You feeling better now?" "I guess so." She took another one of those shaky breaths. She rubbed her cheek against him. "I just--it felt like she kind of cut me open for a minute there." "Yeah?" He looked at her face, tracing his finger gently under her puffy eyes. "You need to lie down a moment or something?" She shook her head. "No, I'm OK. I'm cold, though," she said, shuddering as if to prove her point. Her voice was barely a whisper when she added, "You gonna do something about that?" "Yeah, I'm gonna do something about that." He twisted around so that he now straddled her. "But you are going to need to lie down for that." Sabryn giggled softly and scooted backwards onto the bed. Anton crawled along her, forcing her to lay flat. Pressing his lips to hers, he kissed her thoroughly, pulling away only to work her long-sleeved shirt over her head. He looked down at her, and his heart swelled. She was luminous, eyes almost glowing in their half lidded arousal. His hands cradled her head. "So beautiful," he whispered, and leaned down to kiss her again. She surged up against his kiss, sealing her mouth more tightly against him. Her hands slid down his torso, rubbing against his chest, before tugging his shirt free from his waistband. Once the fabric hung loosely, she slid her hands around his waist and onto his smooth back. Pressing her palms against his heated flesh, she pulled him more securely against her. "Mmm, you're so warm. I've felt like I was frozen all night." "All you had to do was say something." "I was afraid if I opened my mouth too much, I'd bite someone's head off." She nuzzled his neck. "Besides, being cold wasn't exactly the kind of frozen I was talking about." "Well, then," he said. "Let's see if we can heat things up a bit." Sitting up, he pulled off his shirt, deliberately stretching. He grinned as he felt Sabryn squirm beneath him. He leaned back down kiss and lick along the line of her bra straps. "Feeling warm, my dear?" "Not yet," she said, biting her lip. "Better keep working." He laughed slightly, pushing her bra straps out of the way with his thumbs, tickling the sides of her breasts with his fingers. Placing open-mouthed kisses over her shoulders and sternum, he drew a barely audible moan out of her mouth. Still surveying his work, he flinched when she ran her fingers over the dusting of blond hairs on his stomach. "Ticklish?" "No," he said, but flinched just the same when she did it again. When her fingers slid inside the waistband of his pants, pulling the button free, he seized her wrists and pinned them to the bed. "Not yet, my dear. It's my turn now." He leaned down to nibble along her neck as his fingers slid around to her back. His tongue flicked along her shoulder as he unhooked her bra. "Mmmm..." he whispered, sliding her bra out of the way. Resting his cheek on her shoulder, he stroked around the nipple before flicking his thumb against it. She pushed herself more firmly against his touch, threading her fingers through his hair. Pressing her lips against his forehead, she closed her eyes. For the first time since early that morning, she felt perfectly content. It was amazing what he could do to her in just a few minutes. She couldn't even begin to imagine what she'd feel like after a lifetime of his loving. "Do you remember the first time we made love, Anton?" "Mmhmm." The sound was a low rumble in his chest, vibrating against her stomach. "I think that was my best time ever." He glanced up at her face and she smiled. "Of course, every time after that has been wonderful, too. But that time...was magical." She ran her fingers down the length of his arm, placing her hand over the one he had pressed to her breast. "What was your best time? Ever?" She licked her lips. "Even if it was with someone else. I won't get jealous, I promise." "You do like putting me in awkward positions, my dear." She pouted. "Come on, tell me." Her fingers hovered dangerously close to his stomach. "Tell me, or else we'll find out if you're really ticklish or not." He mock shivered. "That's blackmail, my dear." "I know," she grinned at him. "Now tell me." "My second lover," he blurted out. "It was our first time. It wasn't that the sex was good, but it was that for the first time, I connected with someone, both physically and spiritually. The way we connect." He pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Does that make any sense?" "Perfect sense," she said, leaning forward for a quick peck on the lips. "Lucky girl." He leaned in closer, for a more lingering kiss. "Yes, you are," he said, making her giggle. "And you're so modest." "I never claimed that." "Hmm...well I'm still not warm yet, so you must be slacking off." Giving her a devilish smirk, he pushed his hand under her back and lifted her breast towards his mouth. Lightly clamping his lips down around her areola, he sucked with firm constant pressure on her nipple until she was squirming beneath him. After a moment of the delicious torture, he drew back to trace his tongue around the sensitive puckered flesh, nipping softly with his teeth. She shuddered, trying to rub her hips against him, whimpering as he moved his lower body to the side. "Getting warmer," she murmured. As he gave her other breast the same loving treatment, his hand slid along her body to the fly of her jeans. He popped the button of her jeans open before lowering the zipper. He pushed them down far enough to expose her navel, which he lapped at eagerly. One of Sabryn's hands moved to tangle in his hair, trying to direct his movements. He gently moved it to one side. "Still my turn." "I thought men wanted their women active in sex?" "Not yet." She heaved a sigh, going limp on the bedspread. If he didn't want any movement, he'd get none. And as much as she wanted to touch him, she started to notice that the more relaxed she was the more she felt every single little thing he did to her. Hell, she could feel the calluses on his hands, the beard stubble on his face, the little hairs on his skin. She wouldn't be surprised if she had beard burn all over her in the morning, but it didn't matter. Without lifting her hips for him, she could feel the little ticklish flutters swarming between her legs, could feel herself getting wetter with his every touch. Biting her lip, she closed her eyes and released a low moan as his mouth dipped even lower. He smiled to himself when he heard that moan. Gently lifting her hips, he stripped her jeans and socks completely off of her. Leaning down, he licked at her hips before burying his nose in her pubic hair and inhaling. Gently he parted her and licked at her, shuddering as he tasted her. [Face it, Anton, old boy. You're addicted to her.] She gasped, her eyes still closed, and arched off the bed, before seeming to remind herself to keep still. Sinking back to the bedspread, she let her legs go limp against his arms. But her breathing didn't slow in the slightest. [She's certainly warm enough now.] "Open your eyes," he said, quietly. "You're missing half the fun if you aren't watching." He grinned at her heavy-lidded stare, before returning to the task at hand. God, she was wet. Practically overflowing with arousal. Lapping firmly at her clit, he saw her fingers tighten in the bedspread out of the corner of his eye. Pulling back slightly, he could see the small opening of her sex contracting and he pushed his tongue in to tease the quivering muscle. She cried out again, but managed somehow to keep still. Amazing. He was having trouble keeping his hips still, himself. He slowly traced his tongue around the rim of her opening. He felt her quiver, and his own body twitch in response. He was having a hard time holding back his own urge to rip off his jeans and impale her. [You can hold out for a few minutes,] he admonished himself. However, if she kept tightening around his tongue like that, coming in his pants was a distinct possibility. "Uhhh...Anton--" She was having a hard time keeping still. Her entire body shuddered at once, vibrating with each swipe of his tongue. "Oh! Fingers?" He grinned, watching her face contort in agony as he pushed one long finger inside of her. Nipping lightly at her clit, he swirled his finger inside of her. Her hips lifted slightly, rocking back and forth against him. "I thought you were going to keep still?" She flopped back to the comforter, groaning. "You're killing me!" "Not yet," he murmured. Moving his hand out of the way, he covered her with his mouth once more. The moment his tongue pushed inside of her, she jerked against him, violently slipping into orgasm. She was contracting around his tongue, spilling tart juices as she cried out. Blindly she reached out for his hand, grasping his fingers in hers and holding on tight. He crawled his way back up her body without breaking her grip on him. His jeans felt impossibly tight. He settled on his side, waiting for Sabryn to come back to her senses. "Hey there," he said when she opened her eyes. He guided the hand that still gripped his tightly to his groin. "Think you could do something about this?" Sabryn smiled serenely. "I thought you didn't want me to move." "I've changed my mind," he growled back. "In that case..." She let go of his hand, scooting down on the bed, attacking his zipper with both hands. The moment his jeans were unbuttoned, she was tugging all of his remaining clothes off, throwing them carelessly to the floor, and wrapping her hand around the solid length of his cock. "Definitely does look like you need some taking care of, Anton." He opened his mouth, a loud moan caught in his throat as she seemed to swallow him whole. She licked delicately at the precum dripping out of him, her own moan vibrating down the length of him. He tried to thrust forward, but she pushed against his hips, canceling out the movement. "Oh no," she said. "Now it's your turn." She couldn't help but grin wickedly as he groaned. "Payback's a bitch, Anton." He grabbed a fistful of sheets when she resumed lapping at him. "Tell me about it." She sucked firmly at the head of his cock, swirling her tongue around him like an ice cream cone, sliding down every once in a while to press sucking kisses along the shaft. Curling her fingers around his ass, she felt him flinch...and suddenly got an idea. Slipping her hand even lower, she slowly caressed the smooth surface of skin behind his balls, pressing a bit harder when she took him into her mouth, and lightening her touch when she released him. She could tell by the sound of his breathing that he was getting close to climax, and she wasn't quite sure what to do with him next. "You want to cum in my mouth, or inside me?" A shudder passed through him at her words. He gave a hoarse cry as Sabryn resumed sucking him. Arching up despite her attempts to hold still, he came hard in her mouth. Quivering, he relaxed back against the mattress. It was a few minutes before he slid his eyes half open to look at her. "I think I may have to take back what I said earlier about my most intense sexual experience." She wiped off the side of her lip, before popping the finger in her mouth and sucking it clean. Giving his softening cock one last light kiss, she crawled back up the bed and sank down next to him. She felt boneless and exhausted, but still zinging with arousal. She combed her fingers through his hair, meeting his gaze. "You're just saying that, 'cause you're sweet." Pressing her lips to his forehead, she added, "But I'm not complaining." "Hmmm..." he rumbled, pulling her closer before giving a big sigh of contentment. "I wish we were already in San Francisco," he mumbled. "Then I could hold you through the day instead of having to return to that lonely couch downstairs." "We will be soon, Anton." She pressed a sleepy kiss to his shoulder. "Soon." Lindy giggled at the exaggerated sway of Nate's hips as they slow danced, spinning around to the sound of Sting's "She Walks This Earth." It wasn't exactly a slow song, but he said the words matched his mood, and she had to admit she was charmed. She'd had no idea he felt so deeply about her. That he was "restless and burning with desire." But she supposed she should have felt that much. He was sporting quite an impressive erection in those tailored black slacks. He'd removed his jacket and her blouse, leaving her clad in only a silk tank top. His large hands slid over her back, caressing, tracing the outline of her bra...every once in a while dipping lower to linger on the curve of her ass. With his hips tight against hers, he twirled her around once more, making her giddy and dizzy, especially when his lips descended on her neck. She wasn't expecting the sharp nip he gave her, barely a dot really, but enough to draw blood. And when he started lapping at that spot with his tongue, she got weak in the knees. "I thought you said you didn't feed on women." "This isn't feeding. This is foreplay." "Foreplay?" she said, pulling back to look him in the eye. "Just what are you planning on doing to me?" His hands slid down to her ass, giving her a quick squeeze. "Don't worry...when I finally get inside of you, it isn't going to be on a rooftop. It's going to be on a king- sized bed in the middle of a honeymoon suite." He flashed her a devilish grin before returning to her neck once more. She stayed stiff beneath him. "Are you asking me what I think you're asking me?" "You got it, gorgeous." He licked under her ear before whispering in it. "I know you can't answer that right now. But I'm patient. I can wait." When she still felt tense against him, he pulled back to meet her gaze. "Look, don't even think about it now. This is just a statement of my intentions. When you've put what's-his-face out of your head permanently, I'll ask you properly...and then, and only then, you'll give me your answer." Cradling her face between his palms, his large hands nearly surrounding her head, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Coaxing a response, he ran his tongue along her lower lip before thrusting it inside her mouth. And as he made the kiss deeper and more intimate, she felt like she was floating. There was a scary pounding in her chest, combined with a surge of adrenaline...as if her body couldn't decide to jump for joy and run screaming out of the building. He resumed swaying to the music, guiding her hips with his. She leaned against him, relaxing a little. "In that case," she said softly, "I was thinking of taking a day or two to go down to DC and visit my family. Wanna come along?" "Absolutely." He waited a beat and added, "It'll be nice to meet the in-laws." She shook her head, laughing softly. They continued to dance for a few minutes, until the next song ended, and then he stepped back, still holding her hands. "I have an idea." "Oh?" "Yeah...you trust me enough to take your shirt off and lay down on the air mattress, face down?" She gave him a suspicious, leery gaze. "I promise I won't try anything...and believe me, you'll enjoy this." Still a little indecisive, she hesitated. "Nate, I--" "Wait here," he said, hastily. "I'll be right back." She watched as he walked to the stairway, shifting nervously. [What the hell does he have in mind?] She swallowed and walked over to the bed, wondering what to do. She sat down on the mattress, resting her chin on her knees for a moment. [What am I worried about? I'm a werewolf! If he does something I don't like and won't stop, I Change and rip him to shreds.] [But what if he does something you do like?] Ignoring that question for the moment, she pulled off the tank top and folded it neatly before placing it on top of her blouse. Taking a deep breath, she laid down on her stomach on the mattress. It was several minutes before he returned, carrying something hidden behind his back. He gave her a joyful grin, happy to see that she'd complied. Sinking down near the bed, he sat on the edge and leaned just into her sight. "You're going to have to trust me a little more, gorgeous. Think you can handle that?" She took a deep breath, and finally nodded. "OK. Close your eyes. In a few minutes I'm going to touch you, all right?" Licking her lips, she did as she was told. Seeing that her eyes were closed, he went to work with whatever he was doing. She could hear a small snapping sound, and a second after that, she could feel his fingers unclasping her bra. She flinched a bit at that, but settled her breathing as he laid the sides of her bra down on the bed. A second later, she felt something slightly warm dribble down her spine and her eyes popped open. "Uh-uh..." he said, making sure he was out of sight. "Close your eyes." She shuddered slightly, but did what he asked. "I'm going to touch you now. If you're uncomfortable, all you have to do is say stop, and I will." His fingers dipped into the slippery pool on her back, spreading the moisture under his palm, rubbing the pads of his fingers against her flesh. She could feel the slightly rough texture of his hands and released a shaky groan...especially when he started massaging the oil into her back. She couldn't hold back a moan, once she realized what he was doing. He was giving her a back rub, forcing her tense muscles to relax, acclimating her to his touch. "Once of these days, I'll be able to touch you anywhere--and everywhere—and you won't even have to worry about trusting me. It will come automatically." He paused. "No pun intended." "Mmmm." Her muscles eased into his touch. "What are you using, anyway?" "Olive oil, extra virgin." She snorted a little at that, shaking in silent laughter, and Nathaniel smiled. Lindy was relaxing under his hands as he found each and every knot in her back. In fact, she may have been becoming a little too relaxed... He leaned down and licked a trail up her spine. Lindy gave out a little yelp and almost turned over to glare at him before remembering she was nude from the waist up. "What was that?" "Sorry," he said, not sounding too apologetic. "I slipped." She arched her eyebrow, before resting her head on the mattress once more. Only, she noticed that he kept slipping more and more often. Sometimes it was the brush of his fingers against the sides of her breasts, lingering too long to be a mistake. Once or twice it was the unmistakable bulge of his erection, pressing heavily against her ass. A few more times it was a sly lick to her back. All the more disconcerting was that she was starting to get aroused by it. A lot. As he leaned forward to work on her neck, she could feel his hot breath against her ear. She turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze, surprised by how much passion and heat was written all over his face. His voice husky and low, he said, "You can turn over, or stay just the way you are. Either way, I think these shoulders need more work." She took a deep breath, and swallowed. Closing her eyes, she pushed up on her arms slightly. Nathaniel backed off enough to allow her to roll over onto her back. She heard his gasp, but his hands moved to her shoulders, not her breasts as she expected. He was shaking above her. Trembling just slightly, but she could feel it all the same. His hands tightened on her shoulders, fingers working the tense muscles, and she was afraid to open her eyes and see the expression on his face. She knew exactly where he'd be staring. Yet, when she did open her eyes, she was amazed to see that his were closed. His face contorted with a mask of bittersweet pain, he breathed heavily as he kneaded her shoulders. Glancing at his pants, she could see why. The crotch of his well-fit slacks was stretching at the seams. She had a feeling that closing his eyes was the only defense he had against tearing off her clothes and mounting her like a beast. [He wants me, but he's not trying to take me!] was her first thought. A warm shudder passed through her, displacing a trickle of unease. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him against her, taking him in an open mouthed kiss. He eagerly returned it, resting full against her, until her hands slid down to squeeze his ass. As if shocked by a bolt of lightening, he tore his mouth away from his, pressing his groin more firmly to hers. Nathaniel gave a series of twitching shudders, and then melted against her, burying his face in the side of her neck. Lindy was still trying to puzzle out what just occurred when he sat up enough to look her in the eyes. "My God," he whispered. "Do you have any idea how many centuries it's been since *that's* happened?" She cocked her head at him, clearly confused, and he blushed. "I've had a little accident," he murmured. "Give me five minutes to go change, gorgeous." Now it was her turn to blush. She rolled onto her stomach as he climbed out of bed. He didn't look at her again as he walked to the stairs, but judging by the shaking of his head, he was probably too embarrassed to. Watching him go, she couldn't help but smile. [He wants to marry me.] "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Stomping down the stairs, his shorts gooey and sticking to his skin, Nathaniel smacked his forehead. [Smooth move, Valentino.] So much for trying to charm and impress the girl. Oh yeah, she'd want to marry him now. She no doubt thought this happened all the time. And what a great wedding night that would be...he could climb on top of her, hump her leg a little, and be done and enjoying a cigarette within three minutes. He wouldn't even have to take his clothes off! He groaned, pushing his way through the door to his apartment. He was so relieved to find the front room empty. He was in no mood to deal with Natasha right now. Closing himself into the bathroom, he went about stripping out of his pants and cleaning up. He shook his head in disgust at his nearly ruined Hugo Boss slacks. Tossing them carelessly into the hamper, he walked into his bedroom to look for something to change into. Clad only in a black dress-shirt and socks, he was busy sifting through his closet and didn't hear the slight clearing of someone's throat. "That's an interesting look for you, Nathaniel." "Jesus!" He spun around, glancing down to make sure the tails of his shirt covered him to some sort of decency. Just barely. "Natasha, get the hell out of my room!" She pouted at him. "You've never told me to leave before. Or at least not for long." She sauntered over to his bed, draping herself over the comforter. "Things not going well with Anton's pet bitch?" His eyes flamed at that. "Don't you dare refer to her like that!" he hissed, fangs protruding. Her eyes went wide before she let out an icy laugh. "Nathaniel! Don't tell me you've fallen in love with her!" Natasha sat up on one elbow. "How do you think she'll feel when she finds out you're Anton's much hated step-brother? Using her to spy on him? Especially if she's still in love with him?" "Fuck--" At a loss for words, he threw his hands up in the air. "Why the hell do I let you stay here? I know it sure as hell isn't for the company." "Must have been the sex," she purred. "It still could be?" "Not a chance in hell." He stalked over to the dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out of pair of dark blue sweat pants. Pulling those on and stripping down to his white tee shirt, he took a moment to compose himself before turning to face her. Although he felt like strangling her, he sat down on the bed and pushed her coppery hair out of her eyes. "Do you think I'm a complete idiot?" "Do you really want me to answer that?" He gritted his teeth. "What would you do to get revenge on Anton, Natasha? How far are you willing to go?" "I'll do anything. You know that." "Exactly. Even if it means being 'faithful' to a mortal. So if you know what's good for you, you'll back off, shut up, and leave me the hell alone. I know what I'm doing." She smirked, rubbing his stomach...she knew all of his sweet spots, and it sickened him. "I do so love it when you're snarky, darling." "Yeah. I know." He got up and started out the door. "Better not keep her waiting." "Whatever you say, Nathaniel," she smirked. He kept his hand from fisting while she could still see him. [Damn her and her obsessive revenge.] For too long it had been his obsession as well. He walked up the stairs to the roof, wondering why revenge didn't seem to matter so much anymore since he met Lindy. Pushing open the door, he didn't see her on the bed. "Lindy?" "Over here, Nate." She was sitting on the swing, making it sway back and forth. She had pulled her tank top back on. He walked over to her and sat down beside her, not sure what to say. She grinned a bit shyly, leaned against him, and sat back up almost immediately. Her eyes narrowed, and a predatory growl echoed under her words. "Who is she?" [Fuck!] He belatedly realized that she could smell Natasha on him. "What she?" he said weakly. Lindy deliberately inhaled noisily. "Her. Female. Vampire. Start explaining fast, Nathaniel Adrik. Or else you can forget meeting the 'in-laws.'" "Wow, you sound like a jealous wife, already," he joked. She didn't find it funny. "She's my roommate, Lindy." She started to stand up, not wanting to hear any more when he grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. "Damn it, listen to me before you jump to conclusions. Why is it that everyone seems to think I'm so stupid?" He didn't expect an answer...or at least not a nice one. "Do you really think I'd be screwing around with some other woman, when I know perfectly well that you have a nose like a bloodhound?" Judging by her glare, she took exception to that. Hurriedly, he continued. "I know you can rip me apart, Lindy. You may think you're this weak little flower, who needs to protect herself against all of the monsters in the world...but you seem to forget what you are. I wouldn't make it five steps before you could take me down to my knees and devour me whole." Suddenly his sweats were awfully tight. [Damn it, not now!] She looked at him skeptically as she inhaled again. She could smell his 'roommate' as well as the fact that he wasn't being absolutely truthful. She believed him when he said he wasn't screwing her, at least not now, so it was puzzling her. Instead she thought about what he said. "So you really think I could take you down?" "I know you can!" He flexed his muscle, which was actually pretty impressive she didn't mind admitting. "I'm a weakling. And I wouldn't put up a fight. I don't fight girls." Relaxing slightly, she crossed her arms. "Why is she your roommate? Couldn't you find a place of your own?" "Actually, this is my place. I let her stay here...out of compassion, I guess. There aren't a whole lot of vampires around here..." She stopped listening when he was in mid-sentence, realizing she wasn't being completely truthful herself. "...It's safer for us to stick together." "Yeah, safety in numbers and all that." She shuddered to think what would have happened if she hadn't been taken in by a compassionate werewolf once she escaped her molester. "How many other vampires do you know?" "A few," he answered. He put his arm along the back of the seat behind her. "Are you finally going to ask if I know what's-his-face that you're stuck on?" "Yeah." She looked up into his eyes. "Do you know Anton Rudenko?" "Yes, I do...and not on good terms. Nothing nefarious, mind you, but I think that's a story for another time. But I'm sure I won't have to remind you to ask me again later." He paused, glancing at the door to the stairwell. "It should please you to know that I'll have my own place in San Francisco. Without baggage." She released a sigh. "Actually, it does make me feel a lot better." "Good. Of course, it will take me a while to secure a place and arrange to have everything moved. So, I may be a week or so behind you." He nuzzled her neck. "Don't know what I'm going to do with myself for seven long days." "I'm sure you'll come up with something to do.." She brushed her cheek over the top of his head. "I also have my own place in San Francisco." "Hmm...guess all the remains is deciding whose place to keep when we move in together." He gave her a sly grin, which she returned with a shake of her head. "Just being optimistic." "Uh-huh..." End Chapter Seven <- Previous Chapter | Home | Next Chapter ->