The Blood of Angels: Divine Vampires (5 page)

“Easy.” His hand reaches between us, guiding himself. There’s a wonderful moment when he’s finding the right spot, slipping the head up and down, making me moan and clutch at him. “I’ll be gentle…”

Huge! He feels enormous as he eases his flesh into mine, letting out a pent-up breath in my ear. There’s no pain, just that feeling of fullness, being spread wide. I hold him tight, my eyes wide, and he looks at me and smiles.

“Easy,” he whispers again, touching his lips to mine, just briefly. “Let go…relax…”

I take a deep, shuddering breath, and feel the gentle swell and pulse of him inside of me. Reaching my hand down, I feel where we’re joined together.

“This is sex?” I look at him in wonder.

“Almost.” He smiles, beginning to move inside of me, slow, short, gentle thrusts, moving his hips in easy circles. “This… is sex…”

“Ohhh.” I close my eyes and smile, wrapping my legs around his waist. “I like sex.”

“I thought you might.”

We rock together, our eyes locked, and I feel it, that connection. It’s rising and warm, like the sensation in my belly. I recognize it now, and I want more. His eyes half-close as I watch and he thrusts deeper, harder, making the bed shift beneath us.

“Look at me,” I beg him, and he does, my breath coming so fast, our bodies coming together, the thick pulse between our legs driving us onward. There’s a moment  so intense I can’t look anymore, I have to hide, and then he bites his lip, groaning and driving in deep.

“I’m gonna come!” And he is, and I am, too, the hot waves of pleasure rippling through us both at once, as if we’re one thing, and I wonder for a moment if we are. When he collapses onto me, I cradle him, kissing his brow. I’m smiling so big. I can’t help it.

“Thank you,” I murmur as he rolls next to me, covering us both with a sheet.

“No… thank you, little one.” His smile is sweet, but a little sad, as if he knows this is just temporary, that I will be gone soon.

Part of me doesn’t ever want to leave, but I know I can’t stay. I’m not meant to be human. My body feels like it’s singing or humming, and I like it. I also feel something else… as if I’m floating or drifting again.

“Zeph…” His hand caresses my hair, making me smile “I can’t keep my eyes open… what is this?”

“You’re just sleepy.” He chuckles, pulling me close and kissing the tip of my nose.

“I don’t like sleepy.” I yawn. It doesn’t seem to matter, though, because having a body is very demanding. It wants what it wants, and I don’t seem to have much control. My eyes close and I drift away.

“Zeph?” The bed is empty, but there’s an indent where he was when I run my hands over the sheet. The clock on the night stand says it’s just after midnight. So much time lost! I hate this thing called “sleep.” Why do humans need it? It’s so annoying!

My stomach isn’t growling but I want some more food. I want to
taste
. And I want more sex. More of his hands on me, his mouth, his everything.

“You’re awake?” He pops his head into the room, light spilling in from the hallway.

“Why did you leave me?” I pout, reaching my arms out for him.

He comes to me, enfolding me in his arms as he climbs back into bed. He’s wearing a pair of boxers and nothing else. I like it. My hands roam all over his body. I bury my face in his neck, liking his smell, even if I can’t identify it. As senses go, touch is amazing, taste is fabulous, but scent is the most interesting. The food, the soap, even the sheets, all have their own, distinct smell.

“I thought you’d sleep through the night,” he says.

“And you weren’t going to sleep with me?” I protest, running my hands through his thick, dark hair as he kisses my throat.

“I have insomnia,” he confesses, smiling at the way I shake my head at the unfamiliar word. “I don’t sleep well.”

“I don’t like sleep.” I wrinkle my nose. “Wastes too much time. Do you have more food?”

“Yes.” He smiles. “Are you hungry?”

“No, but I want more tastes!” I bite his shoulder, then lick it by way of apology.

“Then more tastes you shall have!” He laughs, getting out of bed and pulling me with him.

I find muffins on the counter and devour two. One blueberry and one bran. I like blueberry best. Those little blue bits are divine.

“We should get you some real blueberries,” Zeph says, rooting through the fridge. “And strawberries. Those are really something.”

“Where can we get some?” I ask, licking muffin crumbs from the paper.

“The store.”

Of course, I remember stores—those big, well-lit places with aisles were humans traded paper money for things. So many things. Humans seemed to have lots of needs.

“Let’s go to the store!” I stand, leaving my glass of milk Zeph has poured me. When he told me it came from the udder of a cow, I’d lost interest. When he told me I should hear where cheese came from, I stopped him. I didn’t want to know.

“You need clothes, little one.” His gaze sweeps over my nude form. I keep forgetting about clothes, although now that he mentions it, I am a little chilly. I’m not used to this whole temperature thing.

“I’m not so little anymore,” I protest as he comes over and puts his arms around me. His body and mine seem to fit together like puzzle pieces.

“No, but you still feel little in my arms.” He kisses my neck, sending those little shivery feelings down my spine, making the hair on my arms stand up. “Oh, damn, it’s Christmas Eve. The stores are closed.”

“There has to be something open,” I protest.

“Maybe a gas station.” He sighs. “But they don’t sell blueberries.”

“What do they sell?” I ask, curious. I’ve never paid that much attention to human consumption. Fairies don’t need anything.

“Gas.” He laughs. “Cookies, chips, soda, Slurpees…”

“What’s a Slurpee?” I perk up.

“Do you really want to know?” He smiles, planting a kiss on my nose.

“I want to know
everything!”
I announce, throwing my arms wide, my head back, letting him catch me and pull me back to him. “I want to
see
everything. I want to
do
everything.”

“You’ve only got twenty-four hours.” He reminds me of this with a wistful smile.

“I know, so we better get started now!” I don’t like to think about how short our time is. I just want to make the most of it, and even if I feel sleepy, I don’t care. I don’t want to waste a minute with my eyes closed.

“What do you want to do most?” He kisses the top of my head, hands roaming over my back.

“You mean, besides you?” I slant a smile at him, sliding a hand into his boxers.

“Yes, besides me.” He grins but doesn’t stop me.

“Let’s do Christmas,” I say, feeling him stir in my hand. I don’t know what doing Christmas looks like, exactly, but I know how it makes me feel, and I like it. I’ve also found a few other things I like here in the human world. “And food. And sex. And more Christmas. And more sex.”

He laughs, tilting my chin up so he can kiss me. I feel him stiffen in my hand as our kiss deepens, his mouth exploring mine. He groans when we part, then gives a resigned sigh.

“Oh the hell with it, let’s get you dressed and go see what’s open.”

It looks like we’re doing Christmas first.

I wear a pair of Zeph’s boxer briefs and one of his button-down white shirts tucked into a pair of black sweatpants with a drawstring I can pull tight. They’re far too long, but I tuck them into a pair of winter boots he gives me. Also too big, but I wear two pairs of socks.

“There, that should do it,” Zeph says, zipping up a leather coat over my clothes. “It’s supposed to go down below freezing this weekend. Might even snow.”

“But my wings!” I glance behind me, forgetting again that they’re gone.

He smiles at my forgetfulness, shrugging on his coat and pulling keys out of the pocket.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

The snow’s been falling for hours already. There’s a good six inches on the ground already and the flakes are thick and heavy—the sort that make flying difficult. Driving too, I suppose, because Zeph is going slow, the windshield wipers slapping back and forth. The whole world is white.

“Hey, look at that, Wal-Mart’s open.” He pulls into a nearly empty lot, parking close to the door. “Twenty-four hour convenience, even on Christmas.”

“Does this mean I get blueberries?” I perk up, peering out the water-beaded window. It’s fogging up because it’s so cold outside.

“You can have anything you want.” Zeph’s hand caresses the back of my neck, fingers massaging gently. I sigh and shiver, feeling my body melt under his touch.

“Not everything.” I look over at him in the orange glow of a streetlight, feeling the weight of it, time ticking by, relentless, the digital clock on the dash glowing ghostly blue on our faces.

He just looks at me, a little sad, and then leans in to kiss me. His mouth is soft, his lips cool, like kissing rain, and I drown in him, putting my arms around his neck, feeling everything, just everything, all at once, the sadness of losing him, the joy of having him, the sweet ache of wanting him. It’s all too much.

“Sam,” he whispers, a hand in my hair as we part, his eyes searching mine. “I want you...”

“I want you too.” It’s become a constant throb in my belly.

“No.” He shakes his head, his voice hoarse. “I want you… to stay.”

“I want it too.” I nod, feeling a quiver in my lower lip. Of course, it’s impossible. I’m only here for a day, such a brief blink in time. It’s unimaginable to think about. I don’t want to leave him. “I want to but…”

We both know.

He closes his eyes, pressing his forehead to mine. We stay that way a moment, listening to the ticking of the cooling engine, snow falling softly, blanketing the car.

“Let’s make this the best Christmas you’ve ever had.” Zeph gets out of the car and I follow him, tripping along in the snow in my too-big boots. He laughs and catches me as we go through the automatic doors. It’s bitter cold. The wind is like a knife, even through my clothes.

The store is eerily quiet. It’s all decorated for Christmas, with candy and last minute wrapping paper and scotch tape near the registers. The only ones open are the self-serve lines and there’s a lone woman standing there, looking morose.

“Blueberries!” Zeph picks up a plastic container, showing me, as we enter the produce section.

“Gimme!” I’m already eating them, bright blue flavor bursting in my mouth.

“We have to pay for them first,” he says, but I shake my head, giving him a blueberry smile as I turn away, hoarding my fruit.

“Strawberries!” I exclaim, grabbing those too. “Don’t these only grow in summer?”

“They ship them up from down south somewhere.” Zeph has a basket swinging on his arm and I put the strawberries in. “What else do you want to try? We’ll have a Christmas picnic.”

“That’s not a Christmas tradition, is it?” I laugh, putting more food into the basket.

“We’ll make it one.”

“So how come you don’t do Christmas?’ I ask, unable to resist the rows of delicious fruit, adding apples and pears to the basket. “I mean, no tree, no lights…?”

“I’m not big on holidays.” He shrugs.

“Any of them?” I cock my head, a green apple in my hand. “Humans seem to like to celebrate. Even the fey…”

“I know.” He smiles as I put the apple in his basket. “One wish.”

“You were my wish,” I breathe, putting my arms around his waist. We have far too many clothes on, I decide, wiggling to try to get closer. My cheeks are still stinging from the cold.

“And you were mine,” he whispers, nuzzling my ear. Then he pulls back to look at me, eyes bright. “So do you really want to do Christmas?”

“Yes!” I exclaim. “I love Christmas! And sex and—”

“Shh!” He laughs, kissing my words away.

Zeph abandons his little basket for a big cart when I choose a table-top tree and flashing, multi-colored lights. I add box of shiny ornaments and an angel for the very top of the tree to our haul. Something about this makes me happy, but I don’t quite understand it.

We also stop by the women’s clothing section so I can pick up something to wear. I know I won’t be here long, but it’s nice to have something to wear that fits. And I like the way Zeph looks at me when I’m modeling—even if it’s just a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

Zeph uses a card at the checkout and we pack everything into the backseat of the car, except the strawberries. I take those with me into the front seat.

“We could build a snowman.” I reach down and grab a handful of the cold white stuff before getting into the car. It holds no danger to me anymore. No worries about wet wings!

“Whatever you want to do, little one.” Zeph starts the car as I watch the snow melt in my hand. It’s like magic, leaving just water behind. And so cold! It makes me shiver.

“I want to be with you.” I look over at him, opening the strawberries and putting one into my mouth. There’s a sweet tang to them that explodes on my tongue

“You’re not supposed to eat the stems.” He laughs as he pulls out of the lot.

I put one up to his lips but he shakes his head.

“You eat them. I like watching you enjoy them.”

Strawberries are even sweeter without the crunchy green stems. I leave the stems in the container and have polished off all the berries by the time Zeph pulls into his driveway. His house is small, inconspicuous, tucked away between two other houses, a whole row of them, all alike, except his is the only one that’s dark. The rest are strung with lights.

“Let’s go do Christmas!” I hop out of the car and help him carry in the groceries and our impromptu tree and decorations, bracing myself against the cold.

I kick off the too-big boots and we take off all our winter gear and leave it drying on the foyer. Zeph puts the food away in the kitchen while I unbox the tree in the living room. It’s wholly unsatisfying. It smells harsh and opens like an umbrella. I clear a table beside the sofa and put it up, frowning at the strangeness of a plastic tree in the room. It isn’t until I start wrapping the lights around it that something starts to happen.

I keep tripping over the sweatpants I’m wearing so I take those off and continue decorating wearing just Zeph’s white, button-down shirt. In the kitchen, Zeph is humming a tune. He’s turned on the radio and Christmas carols are playing. I hum along—I’ve heard enough Christmas carols to be familiar—while I hang the ornaments.

“Zeph, come see!” I call as I unpack the very last thing, the angel tree-topper.

“I like you in my shirt.” His eyes light up when he comes around the corner and sees what I’m wearing. I feel my cheeks fill with heat at that hungry look in his eyes. My body does things all on its own, especially in relation to him. Right now it’s heating up like a tea kettle set to boil.

“You want to do the honors?”

He takes the angel from me, looking at it thoughtfully as he sets it on top of the tree. I turn out the light in the living room and gasp. From the time I’d opened the box to the time he put the topper on, something’s happened. It’s been transformed into something bigger than the sum of its parts. Instead of something artificial, it’s become magical. And I don’t even believe in magic.

“Like it?” He smiles, taking my hand as I approach the little tree. I just smile and nod. “Now I just have to find a present for you to put under it.”

“
You’re
my present.” I squeeze his hand.

“I do have
something
to put under it.” He reaches for the blanket on the couch, the one he’d first covered me with, and spreads it out onto the floor. “Have a seat.”