The Blood of Angels: Divine Vampires (6 page)

I sit on the floor with my back against the sofa, looking up at the tree. I’ve seen human Christmas decorations throughout my whole existence. I’ve seen them change over the years, from real trees draped with popcorn and dried fruit strings, littered with candles—oh how many lives I’d saved in those days from house fires!—to these artificial things with blinking, multi-colored lights, but I’ve never really paid this kind of attention before. Maybe because it’s never been mine—my own, personal experience.

Is that the thing about being human? Is it that personal connection to things that makes them so sweet? Or maybe, I think, looking up at the angel tree-topper, it’s the blink of time humans spend here in this realm. And even they have longer than I do, I realize, glancing down at my exposed legs, feeling my body, familiar and yet not. My skin’s flushed but feels cool.

“Still hungry?” Zeph carries out a tray loaded with food, putting it in the middle of the blanket. I clap my hands in delight, reaching for a handful of wasabi peas. Zeph shakes his head and says it’s a strange array of food, but I want to try it all. There’s liverwurst and little shrimp with cocktail sauce. The brie is warm and the crackers salty. Zeph’s put a bowl full of a colorful cereal called Fruit Loops in the middle of the tray that I eat by the handfuls—I’ve already made it clear I don’t want any more milk.

“Christmas isn’t complete without ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’,” Zeph says, turning on the television.

“What’s that?” I ask through a mouth full of marshmallows. They’re pillowy, soft and sweet.

“It’s a movie,” he tells me as the music starts and the title comes up on the screen.

But I’m already lost in the story of a man who wants to change his stars, alter his destiny. By the time the movie’s over, I’ve sampled everything, including the amazing stuff called popcorn that started as hard little kernels but magically exploded into something white, fluffy, and crunchy. It’s absolutely delicious with butter. And I won’t let Zeph tell me where butter comes from either.

“See, his life was exactly as it was supposed to be,” I say as Zeph turns off the television and we’re left under the blinking lights of the little Christmas tree. “You can’t change your fate. People don’t get to decide.”

“Sure they do.” Zeph’s arm goes around my shoulder and I rest my head on his. “They always have free will.”

“But what about fate?” I glance up at him. “That’s what we do. We push them in the right direction.”

“Or the wrong one.” His eyes darken.

“It’s never the wrong direction,” I protest, frowning.

He shrugs, turning an almond over in his fingers, studying it.

Something occurs to me, and I have to ask. I want to know.

“Were you one of us?” I whisper. “Is that how you know so much about us? That's it, isn't it?

“No, little one, I was never one of you.” Zeph shakes his head, a strange smile on his face.

“Then how did
The Maker
know I wanted to be here?” I ask. “I never said anything about you… about….”

“Maybe they can read your mind, like I can.”

The thought stops me cold. All fairies communicate telepathically, and the constant presence of
The Maker
is—
was
—always in my head. But I can’t read minds, I couldn’t even when I wasn’t human, not the way Zeph can. As a fairy, I can only know what someone wants to me know. But can
The Maker
hear my thoughts, the way I hear
The Maker’s
instructions? Has
The Maker
been listening all along, to my secret desires, my innermost thoughts?

“I… do you think so?” I cock my head at him, wondering if he’s reading my mind right now. The way he looks at me tells me that he is.

“What do
you
think, Sam?”

But he knows. He knows what I’m thinking. He knows everything about me.

“Who are you?” I whisper, not sure I really want to know anymore.

“We've got one night,” he reminds me softly, brushing soft, yellow hair out of my eyes, tucking it behind my ear. “Do you really want to waste it talking?”

But I don’t have to say anything, because he already knows the answer.

I don’t understand why humans get out of bed. Ever. Zeph tells me it’s to eat, and rehydrate, but as much as I love food, I love sex more. So much more.

“You’re so beautiful,” Zeph whispers as he unbuttons each button on the white shirt I’m wearing. I look down at it in wonder. This body is mine—I feel everything he’s doing, the way his hand cups my crotch, as if he could contain the heat radiating there, his tongue tracing my lower lip, his other hand kneading the soft flesh of my breast—but so unfamiliar to me.

“Am I?” I look up at him in the dim lamp light as he stands at the edge of the bed to undress, running my hands over my own body. My curves rise and fall, my fingers sending shivers through me as they pass over my hard nipples, dip briefly into my navel, then get lost in the soft, wet fur between my legs.

“Beyond.” His eyes say everything, the way they darken as they watch me touch myself. I remember the way Maya did it, how she rubbed in circles, and I do that, too, moaning softly at the sensation. Everything there feels swollen, hot.

“You’re beautiful too,” I tell him, admiring the way his broad shoulders taper down to his waist. He has hair on his chest, dark and curly. There’s a long, thick line of it that starts at his navel and trails down to a triangle just above his cock. He’s hard, standing at attention, and just the memory of him inside me sends waves of pleasure through my body. I reach for him but he shakes his head, taking a step back, his gaze still between my thighs.

“Not yet.” He pushes my eager hands away, taking his cock in his fist and squeezing. “Keep touching yourself.”

“Like this?” I rub that sensitive little bit of flesh—it feels so much better than it ever looked!—a heat spreading slowly through my belly.

“Mmm hmm, just like that.” He nods, never taking his eyes off me. But his hand moves on his cock, up and down.

“I like watching you, too.” I lick my lips, fascinated by the motion of his fist, by the glistening bit of pre-cum at the tip. “But I like feeling you more.”

“Hungry little thing.” Zeph chuckles. “What part do you like best?”

“Every part,” I whisper, rubbing faster. “All the parts. All
your
parts.”

“I like yours better.” He smiles and kneels next to the bed.

And then. Then. Something I didn’t think possible. A new sensation, familiar but so much more intense. Zeph nudges my fingers out of the way with his nose, his mouth covering my mound, so hot and wet. I moan and reach for him, my hands finding his hair. Then his tongue makes those same, delicious circles my fingers had been tracing. Around and around, so good it’s almost painful.

“Oh! Zeph!” My hips rise to meet him and his hands cup my ass, squeezing and pulling me against his mouth. Oh my heavens, his mouth! I’m lost, writhing and moaning on the bed, unable to help the cries escaping my throat. I clutch and claw at him, begging him to stop, begging him not to, wanting it to last forever and wanting it to end in some final, ecstatic release.

I remember his words from earlier that night and they come out of my mouth, I’m not sure if they’re an exclamation or a warning, but I am, I’m coming. The wet lap of his tongue makes me explode with feeling, sweet surges of feeling, and I grip his hair and pull him as close as I can, grinding myself against his mouth.

I can barely breathe when he finally stops. I’m really begging him to stop now, the sensation so intense I can’t take anymore. He kisses his way up my trembling thighs, licking that little wonder, my navel, his tongue, that glorious tongue, pausing at each nipple for a taste.

“Zeph, that was…” I breathe, unable to finish the sentence. I’m not sure
what
that was—but whatever it was, I liked it. A lot.

“I thought you might enjoy that.” He smirks, but his smile fades and his eyes darken when I reach for and grasp his cock in my fist. Oh, so hard. It’s like steel.

“Do you like it too?” I tilt my head as I stroke him, the same motion I’d seen him do.

He nods, biting his lip when I squeeze. I like watching his pleasure, knowing I’m the one causing it. There’s something powerful about it. This thought leads to another question. One that fills my chest with heat.

“You’ve done this before?” I ask, knowing the answer. “Sex, I mean… with… other women?”

“Yes.” His hips move, all on their own, his eyes half-closed. “And this sounds like a bullshit line any guy would give you, but it’s true. Sam, it’s never been like this before.”

“What do you mean?” My eyes narrow. I’m suspicious. He’s probably been with dozens of women. The way he looks, probably more like hundreds. How can I be any different?

“I can’t explain it.” His mouth is right against my ear, sending sweet shivers through me. My wet pussy throbs to life again, just having him thrusting into my hand, imagining him inside of me. “I’m drawn to you. I can’t seem to help myself.”

“Why would you want to?” I rub my thumb over the tip, spreading sticky fluid.

“Because I can’t keep you,” he whispers, and there’s so much sadness in it, my heart feels like it’s breaking, and I finally understand that strange human phrase. A heart can’t really break, but I’ll be damned if mine doesn’t feel like it is. “I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. But I knew it was impossible. And then, tonight, coming in and finding you on my couch…”

“Naked,” I remind him, squeezing his hard length in my hand, remembering too. I’ve been human for just a few hours, but that moment feels like a lifetime ago. How is that possible? Time is a funny thing.

“Very fucking naked.” He groans, hips moving to match my motion. “So beautiful it hurt. It was like you’d been given to me as a gift, and I wanted you even more.”

“That’s why I’m here,” I admit, swallowing at the confession. “Because I wanted you so much. So very much.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be wasting time wishing for more time.” He nuzzles my neck, my ear. “But you make me so… hungry.”

“Hungry?” I smile. That’s a feeling I know.

“Believe me, I’ve been hungry before.” He lifts his head to meet my eyes. They’re dark with an emotion I don’t quite understand. “I’ve known hunger most people will never experience. But you… you make me ravenous.”

“Zeph—” I frown, trying to make sense of his words.

“Now that I have you, I can’t get enough.” His words override mine, and I let them. His are more urgent. The feeling in his eyes tells me that. “There’s something about you that makes my blood sing, little one. You’re like a fever that won’t break. I’m mad for you. I’m going absolutely insane wanting you, knowing I can’t have you…”

“But you can,” I insist, rolling onto him, pushing him back on the bed. “You can have me, Zeph. I’m yours. Right now, always. Time makes no difference. I’m yours. I’m yours.”

He cups my face in his hands as I slid him inside of me. I have to have him. I want all of him, deep. I want to feel him at my core, at the center of my being, the part that makes me who I am, the part that never changed.

Zeph kisses me, tastes me, drawing me in. I taste myself in his mouth, my tongue searching for more in the soft recesses. I don’t move on top of him. I just want to feel him, our flesh joined, but not just that. We’re connected completely, a perfect circle, linked endlessly together. And I know what he means about wanting me. It’s like I’ve always been missing a part of myself and have just found it here in his arms, but there’s no relief in it. Just a deep, profound ache. It reminds me of sex, a cycle of desire, cresting, peaking, and then starting all over again.

And I love it.

I love
him.

I’ve never experienced such an overwhelming human emotion before. Is this what love is? This incredible, euphoric, scary feeling, like falling or flying? It’s exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. I’m not afraid of feeling it, of soaring with him like this as we rock together, I’m just afraid of the ending. I’ve never had an ending before, not one all of my own. Being human is just as amazing as I thought it would be, every feeling, every sensation, everything is intensified—but it’s far more dreadful too.

I understand now why humans seek pleasure, happiness, the ecstatic feeling of joy, even in their darkest addictions and obsessions—because their time is so short, and every moment precious. This moment—looking into Zeph’s eyes as he runs his big hands over my breasts, the hourglass curve of my waist, settling on my hips to rock me faster—this moment is the most precious I’ve ever experienced. I can look into him, through him, into myself, and we’re no longer two beings. We are one, complete, whole.

“Come here.” Zeph pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, as if we could possibly get any closer.

And then we are. His mouth is on mine, his cock buried deep in my womb, our skin damp with sweat as we slide together, working toward some final release. Every moment of being human is just like this one, the sweetness, the passion, the longing for more. Zeph whispers in my ear, words that set my body on fire.

“You’re mine.” His teeth graze my earlobe. “I won’t give you up. I can’t. You’re mine forever, little one.”

“Yes!” I gasp, grinding my hips, meeting his driving, upward thrusts. I can’t deny it. For as long as I exist, for infinity, forever, I will remember this, and I will be his. “Oh, Zeph, yes, yes!”

“So sweet.” His teeth graze my throat, shockingly sharp, sending an electric zing down my spine. “So fucking sweet.”

He groans and buries his face in my neck, my hair, hands slipping down to my ass, squeezing as he fucks me—and that’s what this is. I’ve watched hundreds, thousands, of humans copulate, wondering what it might be like, but my imagination hasn’t even come close. As divine as our coupling is, it’s also raw and animal. With every growl and thrust, there’s a primeval heat. This is the very friction that created the universe.

“Zeph, I…!” But my words are lost in the sound of us coming together, the final shudder and explosion of it, like hot lava bursting from the center of the earth, the center of everything. We are nothing and everything at once. His body is so hard and rigid, arid desert plains against the soft, wet, wild curves of my own as we ride one glorious, fiery wave of bliss into infinity.

“Holy fuck.” Those are the first words he says afterward and they make me smile, bringing me back down to earth. “What in the hell was that?”

“Us.” I link my fingers with his as I slide off him, shivering now. My body is wet with sweat, the air cool.

“Us.” Zeph smiles too, pulling the covers around us both, making a little Zeph and Sam burrito. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” I swallow and try not to sigh, because now all I can think about is how little time we have to be “us.” I’d made a simple Christmas wish—I wanted to have a human experience for one day. No more time was ever allowed, or I would have asked for more. But one day, I had reasoned, would be enough. I was wrong.

“Damnit.” Zeph groans and reaches for his cell phone buzzing on the nightstand. “It’s the middle of the night. Who—?”

I slip out of bed as he talks on the phone. My bladder’s so full it aches. This having a body is so strange, so demanding! I can hear Zeph talking from the bathroom, not the words, just the sound of his voice, low at first, then rising. Angry.

I walk naked down the hall toward his room, listening.

“I told you no! Why can’t you handle it?” Zeph snaps. I’ve never heard him angry before. I feel a chill go through me. “Look, you know I would, but Sam is here now and I can’t waste any time…”

I frown, hugging myself as I lean against the wall. Who is he talking to? Who could possibly know about me?

“No, Char!” Zeph explodes. “I can’t do that to her. I won’t.”

He’s quiet for a moment and I know the other person—Char—must be talking to him. But who is Char, and what is she saying to my Zeph? How does she know about me? And what won’t Zeph do? To whom? My mind is awhirl with all of this, when I hear Zeph sigh.

“Fuck, Char. I don’t know what to do.” His voice sounds hoarse, choked. “I’ve never felt like this. It’s worse than anything I’ve ever experienced… yeah, worse than that… worse than the fall… worse than starving… I feel like I’m dying…”

I can’t make any sense of what he’s saying. Is he talking about me? About being with me? Or is there something else, something I don’t know? It makes me realize I know so little about this man, even though the feelings between us are so strong.

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it. But we can’t be long. I need to spend this time with Sam before…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but I know what he’s thinking. Before I’m gone. Before it’s all over. I don’t want to think about that.

Instead of going into the bedroom, I turn and walk the other way down the hall, turning left and heading into the kitchen. Zeph finds me standing in front of the fridge, licking cream cheese off my finger. I’ve been scooping it up from the tub. It’s whipped, light and velvety smooth. It takes my mind off the fact that time is passing, much faster than I want it to. Much faster, I could swear, than it’s ever passed in my entire existence.

“Hey, my little glutton.” He wraps my arms around my waist, his hands moving low over my belly. “Thought I might find you here.”

“Want some?” I offer him the cream cheese container.