Scryer (12 page)

“That’s bad. Those were expensive. I’m
going to make you pay for them,” I hissed before going back in for his lips.

He gave a laugh, then, swiftly, I was
grabbed by his strong arms and twisted around so my face dangled near the floor
while my thighs were gripped against his lap and my bare ass up on display.
“And how are you going to do that?” he teased. “I’ve got you completely.” I
felt his hot breath against one cheek of my bottom before his mouth descended
onto my skin, and I felt his teeth nip down in a way that sent delicious
tingles through me while I gave a gasp of surprise and struggled. “No, no, no,
Ivy. I’m not finished with you yet.”

His hands changed their grip to either
side of my butt cheeks as he expertly pulled them apart, leaving me even more
exposed. His tongue trailed across his bite mark before dragging achingly down
the middle, across my anus, and down to my clit.

A moan escaped me, even as blood rushed
to my head. He licked at me with deliberate slowness and I could think of
nothing else but that tongue and the games that it played. I tried to thrust up
against him, to make everything harder and more intense. But he held me firm.
He was in control here. There was no question that my pleasure was in his hands,
and he wasn’t about to let me get any relief quickly.

“Fuck you,” I managed to say in a
strangled voice. “Fuck you, Caleb.” Every time the familiar sensations began to
tingle within me, he would pull his tongue away in the most frustrating of
ways.

He stopped. “Say it again.”

“Fuck you.”

“Say my name.” His tongue resumed his
lapping, more intense than before.

“Caleb,” I breathed and the magic
started. “Caleb, Caleb, Caleb,” I began to moan like it was some kind of
mystical chant that would keep these sensations rushing through me.

Without warning, he took hold of my hair
and pulled me back up, turning me to straddle him. I did not protest. I sank
down onto his waiting cock with impatience and began to move against him. I
gripped his hair for traction and slid him in and out of me with violent
motions. I treated him like my toy. I didn’t care if I caused him pain; I just
needed my relief.

“Oh, fuck, Ivy,” I heard him pant, and I
increased my speed as my nails dug into him. And then I began to jerk with my
orgasm rushing through me with such intensity that it was nearly painful.

I cried out, or maybe it was more of a howl,
a sound like a banshee screaming a warning of impending doom. And I laughed at
the absurdity of such a thought as I floated back down to a reality where we
were covered in sweat in the living room of the apartment that I shared; the
only other occupant probably in bed with her pillow over her head to drown out
the noise.

I laughed again. I didn’t care.

They
managed to keep the details of Danilo’s death a secret, and as a consequence,
there was no media fanfare at his funeral. In fact, there was hardly anyone
there. His father, who reeked of alcohol, had invited a few of his friends, who
were like clones of him and had certainly come only for the free wine and
sandwiches.

A few of Danilo’s stoner associates
turned up, and, of course, Ellen. She was a pale and pretty girl. Nothing about
her in particular stood out. Perhaps that was why Danilo cared for her so much.
She was the kind of person who could fit in, blend in as if camouflaged amongst
soccer moms, and lead a normal life. Had Danilo wanted that? A family? I had to
bite my lip to stop that thought from hurting.

The only other guests were Lake and, to
my surprise, Dorothea Corin.

“What are you doing here?” I asked
rudely as she leaned in close to air kiss me, and her perfume assaulted my
senses. She was out of place in her black designer dress and hat with its veil
that shielded her eyes.

She gave me her nauseating, painted
smile. “Why, Ivy. Danilo and I had become close recently. I’ll miss him terribly.”

I stared straight into her veiled eyes.
“I think you like funerals,” I said in a blunt tone. “I think that you feed off
of the misery of others like it’s an antidote for the poison that runs in your
veins. You couldn’t live in a world where others are content.”

I had expected her to laugh or sneer, to
brush me off like I was an annoyance. Instead, she looked directly at me. I
didn’t need to see her eyes to tell that they were boring into me. Her chest
moved under her black lace dress as she took a breath and then exhaled.
Finally, she said, “I don’t know what either of them see in you. I really
don’t.” Then she turned away and slid into a pew, adjusting her skirt and
trying to pull it down as if she just realized that short and sexy outfits
didn’t belong at funerals. Several of Danilo’s father’s friends threw looks her
way, but she kept her head straight as she waited for the sermon to begin.

I took a seat on the opposite side, and
to my surprise, Lake sat beside me.

“And why are you here?” I asked in a low
voice. “Can’t you give Danilo peace even in death?”

“I didn’t know him,” he said dryly.
“Don’t invent torment and make me into a devil when I’ve committed no
transgression against him.”

I gave him a furious look. “Why are you
here then?”

He turned to look at me, his forehead
creasing. “For you. I’m here for you, and don’t act like you’re fine, Ivy. You
forget that I know you. I think that I’m the only one who you’ve ever really
let in.” His hand moved slightly so it was not even an inch from mine, yet he
did not touch me. I didn’t move my hand either; instead just letting it lay
there on the pew as the sermon began.

 It was a long-winded and boring speech
by a man who knew nothing about Danilo. As he finished, he asked if anyone
wanted to say anything. I knew that it would be the right thing to do, but I
couldn’t bring myself to do it. There was nothing that I wanted to say in front
of these people. With, perhaps, the exception of Ellen, I doubted that anyone
in the depressing room really cared that his life was lost and that they would
never speak to him again.

To my surprise, as the awkward silence
stretched on, Danilo’s father got to his feet and shuffled toward the
microphone. He wore a dark suit that may have once fitted him, but now it
sagged on his frame and made him all the more a sad figure.

He cleared his throat and his voice came
out as a gruff rasp. “Danilo was my son,” he began. “He had some…troubles in
life, but all around, he was a pretty good kid.” His voice was stilted and
awkward, as if speaking of someone that he didn’t really know. “When he was a
little boy, he was crazy about basketball. Absolutely nuts about it.” The man’s
face managed a smile as he thought of better times. “He would spend all day on
the court and I’d have to drag him off of it to get him to eat his dinner.” He
gave a laugh that quickly turned into a sob, and then he seemed to remember
that he had an audience and squared his shoulders. “That’s all I’ve got to
say,” he muttered as he walked back to his seat.

To my horror, I felt something prick at
my eyes and a lump form in my throat.
Oh, no, I wasn’t going to cry, not
here, not in front of people.
But my body wouldn’t obey. I quickly got to my
feet and rushed out the doors and into the corridor, searching for the bathroom.
When the door with the faded stenciled word of “ladies” came into view, I
pushed my way through it and began to take deep, rasping breaths to get myself
under control.

I heard the door
swing open and turned quickly to see who the intruder was. Lake stepped just inside
the door and let it bang closed behind him. He came no closer. “You okay?”

I brought my
arms around me. “No. This isn’t right. None of this is right. There’s no one
here. There should be hundreds of people mourning here, but there’s nearly no
one. All the other scryers should be here, but no one bothered to turn up.” My
voice was hoarse but not yet breaking, and for that I was glad.

“Scryers are
like that. You never stick together.”

“And it makes us
easier to pick off, one by one,” I choked out.

Lake stepped
closer.  “No one will hurt you Ivy. I’ll make sure of that.”

I met his eyes.
“You’re a liar. You can’t promise that. And when I die, who will be at my
funeral? Who will mourn for me? Do you think there would be more people than
there are for Danilo? Who would care? Who would care that I’m dead?” A sad
laugh came from deep within me. “And it’s his funeral and all I can do is feel
sorry for myself. When did I turn so pathetic and selfish?”

When Lake
reached out to touch me, I didn’t flinch away. Instead, I stood firm as his
hands gently rubbed against my bare forearms. The familiar warmth rushed through
me, and I forgot everything—about Danilo, about Caleb, about lies, and betrayal.
“You’re not selfish, or pathetic, Ivy…” he trailed off in a low voice.

I felt caught by
his kiss. Yet not trapped like prey about to be devoured, more like there was
no choice. That was where my lips were deigned to be. I kissed back hard,
clawing my hands into his back as I gave into the desperation to touch him that
I had tried to ignore for so long. Danilo’s last words about me being withered,
bitter, and old before my time played over and over in my mind as I threw
caution to the wind and gave in to what my body wanted and damn the
consequences. As I bit at his lips, he propelled me back against the bathroom
vanity, his hands sliding under my dour funeral skirt to lift me up to sit on
it.

My legs lifted
to trap him and draw him into me, hands going for his belt almost feverishly.
But his hands grasped mine, and he broke his kiss, instead panting heavily and
resting his forehead against mine.

“Are you sure?”
he asked, his voice hoarse. His eyes were shut as if he couldn’t bear to look
at me.

I couldn’t
speak. My body wanted him, my heart wanted him…but my head…

“This is wrong,”
I rasped.

His eyes
flickered open. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered, sadness evident. I
didn’t like that. I didn’t like the fallibility that I sensed about him right
at that moment, as if I could be his ruin. I wanted him strong and unfeeling.
It would all be easier that way.

“I just…”

He stepped back,
and I lowered my legs down as a weird ache went through me. Gone was the
feverish lust of before, now there was only loneliness and my eyes welled up
again with tears. He looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry that I upset you.” He
ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry that I tried to have sex with you in a
bathroom. I’m sorry that I stood by and let Michael just have you. I’m sorry
that I took advantage.” He raised his eyes to me. “And most of all I’m sorry
that we were both born as what we are. If I could change things…”

A sob escaped
me. It was a horrible sound and he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around
me while I cried, holding me tightly against his chest and stroking my hair
while tears and inhuman sounds ran from me uncontrollably.

Time seemed to
stop. How long passed with me there in his arms? It seemed so right, yet was so
wrong…

 “I have to go,”
I managed to stumble out as I pushed against him. “I have plans.” It wasn’t a
lie. I did have plans with Caleb. I had formulated a plan to have him distract
me from any misery I might feel after the funeral with the warmth of his body
and his tongue on me. But right then, it felt wrong to think of him touching
me…

Lake arched an
eyebrow and slowly let me go. The moment his hands were gone, I missed them
instantly because he was right there yet I couldn’t have him. Not really.

“Ivy, please…”

I didn’t speak
or look at him as I fixed myself up. I kept smoothing my hair down as if it
were possible, but of course, it was just as wild as always. Once I was as
respectable as I could possibly be, I turned for the door.

“Does he know
what you are? Does he know what will follow you and probably ruin you for your
entire life?” I froze. His voice wasn’t cruel, it was merely factual. When I
didn’t respond, he continued, “You shouldn’t be with someone like him. You
should be with someone who understands.”

I gave a bitter
laugh, twisting to face him. “Understands? Understands what? That any daughters
we bear together will be your whores until you have everything that you want,
regardless of who gets hurt? That those girls will probably commit suicide
because they cannot bear the evil of humanity that they are forced to see each
day? Will you take my daughter as your whore, Lake?”

His hands came
up quickly to grip my wrists, spinning me around to face him, the anger on his
face clear. “I would
never
do that to you.” His fingers bit into my
flesh as if he were pouring all of his anguish into my blood.

And then, just
as suddenly, he released me and looked away.

I wanted him to
say something, although I didn’t know what. The look on his face was unreadable
now. I gave a sigh and headed for the door. “He’s safe,” I muttered. “You’re
not safe. You’re dangerous.” I yanked the heavy door open and stepped through
it, letting it bang behind me and create a physical division between us. Only
then was I able to breathe properly again.

Only Danilo’s
father and his girlfriend were left. His father looked drunk and kept taking
sips from a hip flask as he stared at nothing. He didn’t look sad now. Instead
he just looked uninterested in anything around him. He had probably just come
for the sandwiches and cakes. Ellen, on the other hand, still had tears flowing
down her face. She sat in a chair in the corner, hunched over with her arms
around her thin figure. Her face was contorted with grief, and the way she
shuddered with silent sobs made me think that she could break a rib if this
continued.

At first, I just
walked past her and averted my eyes. I didn’t need her to make me feel guilty
that I wasn’t howling with rage and injustice at Danilo’s cruel death. But then
I stopped. This wasn’t about me. I turned to her, and she lifted her swollen
eyes to see why I had come to a halt in front of her.

I swallowed and
took a breath before speaking. “I know it seems like the end of the world right
now, but you’ll love again. You will meet a nice man, and you’ll have babies
together. A boy and two girls, and they’ll be chubby and cute, and sweet,
really sweet.”

Her mouth
dropped open in surprise, a thousand questions in her eyes, but I wouldn’t help
to answer them. I spun on my heel and continued on my way, pushing through the
doors until I was out in the sunshine that shone too brightly for such a
miserable day.

“That was a nice
thing you did,” Lake said from behind me. I hadn’t realized that he had
followed me.

I shrugged.
“Well, sometimes I’m nice.”

He gave a nod.
“Let me give you a ride home, or to your ‘date’.”

“I don’t think so.”
I scanned up and down the street, looking for any sign of a taxi, but there was
nothing.

“Ivy.” He took
hold of my wrist lightly and that touch alone made me lose my breath, as much
as I hated to admit it. “Let me do this. It would make me feel better.”

If he hadn’t
touched me, I would have easily refused again, but I felt weak under his light
caress, and it wasn’t long before I was sitting beside him in his car, silent
as he drove me home. He made no further attempt to talk. When we pulled to a
stop outside my apartment building, I shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

“Thanks for the
ride,” I finally managed.

“Ivy,” he said
sharply, and I stopped before I swung my legs out of the car. “Michael wants
you to have bodyguards until we find out who killed the others.”

I arched an
eyebrow at him. “Is it Michael or yourself who’s worried?”

In a sharp,
swift motion his hand gripped my face, forcing me to look directly at him. “If
it were up to me, I would lock you up so no one else had access to you.”

I shook my head
at him, pushing his hand from me while I gave him a withering glare. “There’s
another reason for me to hate you.”