Hiliad's Special Gift Ch. 19-20

"No, no! Don't move! You're bare-footed. I've still got my sneakers on. Let me get that," Wilma said as she walked in.

"Wilma? Wha'—" Apparently my ears and brain weren't working together properly because I took a step onto a big chunk of glass. "OW! Fuck!" I didn't know which hurt worse at that point: my foot or my head.

"Oh, Connee. Hey, you're close enough to the counter. See if you can jump up onto it."

Without moving my feet, foot, actually, the other was in the air and dropping loads of blood onto the linoleum floor, I put my hands behind me pushed myself up onto the counter. I made it without dropping anything else. Miracles can happen.

"Where are your bath towels?"

"Hall closet."

Wilma left then came back in and handed one to me. "Let me see your foot."

With much difficulty, I lifted my foot up over my knee and saw the two-inch gash with blood pouring from both ends of the wound. "Oh, hell."

"You're going to need stitches."

"No, no," I whined, and couldn't stop a few tears from falling. "Where's our vampire boyfriends when we need them?" We both had a laugh at that, which calmed me down a little.

She removed the glass shard, with pathetic cries of pain from me, and the most amazing thing happened: the wound began to close up. "When was the last time you had Hiliad's blood?" Wilma asked.

"Um, two weeks ago, I think, maybe three. I had a lot ..." I had to shut up so as not to tell her too much.

When I looked at the bottom of my foot again, my mouth gaped open at the slice of skin that was then almost half healed. "Holy crap!"

"Let's give it a minute. Looks like you'll be fine," Wilma said, relieved.

And sure enough, within ten minutes the wound was completely healed. Wilma had already cleaned up the mess I made, with many apologizes to her. When she was done, I carefully slid off the counter and tested my foot. "Wow! This is amazing."

"Yeah, it's pretty cool. Do you have another carafe?"

"No. I think Aspirin is my only alternative."

Once I got myself together and took the medication, we settled in the living room. Heather was currently curled up in my Irish wool blanket. "I think I wore her out. We've been playing for a while."

"Oh, good. And thank you for your help." After a hesitation, not wanting to even think about what happened the night before, I told her, "Look, Wilma, about last night, I'm really sorry for the childish way I acted."

"No, Connee, don't worry about it."

"Why are you doing so much for me? You hardly know me."

"To tell you the truth, I don't really have any close friends that ... understand my attraction to Hugh."

"I owe you a lot, especially after last night. Let me make you my famous lasagna, and I won't put any garlic in it. We'll have a girl's night, um, well, afternoon."

And with that, we talked for hours. I got to know Wilma much better, and I picked up right away that she really was a good person.

Around five o'clock, I realized I needed something in my stomach, although even the thought of food made me queasy. I had to finish up the deli meat before it went bad, so I made us sandwiches. That gave me time to think about what happened after I got home the night before.

Spreading Mayonnaise on the bread with a dinner knife, I kept getting flashes of Hiliad pressing me against a tree for some odd reason, then me kicking Him away, seeing Daniel knock out Hiliad somehow, drinking, hearing a discussion of Minotaurs or Cemataurs or something weird like that, drinking, witches and weres or some funky creatures, then me telling Hiliad that I loved Him ... I said what?! The kitchen knife slipped out of my hand and fell into the sink, making a racket that sent my head clanging.

"Connee? What happened?" Wilma said alarmed as she rushed into the kitchen.

I was shaking so badly I had to put my hands on the counter just to steady myself. "Wilma, Wilma, oh, my god ... I ..."

"What! What did you do?"

"I ... oh, shit, no, no," I wailed, tears falling down my cheeks in sheets.

"Oh, honey, come sit down." I felt my body being dragged to the small table and she set me down in the chair. "You're as pale as Hugh."

I buried my face in my hands and cried, though I don't know why I was so emotional. I just told Hiliad I loved Him. What was the big deal?

"You did what?" Wilma asked astonished, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"I ... I told Hiliad, I think that ... I loved Him."

She placed her hand on mine and squeezed gently. "Oh, no, Connee, it's okay. There's nothing wrong with that."

"But I was drunk," I muttered, wiping my face and taking a deep breath to stop the tears. "It doesn't count, right?" She laughed, which made me feel a little better. "Oh, god, what am I gonna do? It's Hiliad! Do you see Him settling down ... much less with a human? He's a fucking vampire, Wilma! He ... He drains humans--"

"Look, I've told you before, Connee, that I think Hiliad's met his match with you. I have never, ever seen him this ... crazy over anyone before."

"Then I must be as crazy as Hiliad."

Wilma had to leave at seven, so I cuddled up in the blanket and stared at the blank TV screen. I tried to put more pieces of last night's puzzle together, but it was still all jumbled.

I was harshly woken up later when my front door slammed hard against the wall and Hiliad rushed in. Sitting down beside me, I exclaimed, "Geez, Hiliad. You scared me." Sitting up, I teased, "Never frighten a human with a hangover."

"What happened? You were hurt," He said alarmed.

"Huh ... oh, right. I broke my coffee carafe and sliced my foot, but it healed. It's no big deal, Sir."

He frowned. "That's it? That's all?"

I nodded, becoming frightened at His tone of voice. He ran His hand through His hair and threw Himself against the sofa cushion, calming down.

"You were ... worried about me? How did you know I hurt myself?"

"Yes. Remember, I can feel your emotions."

"Even from, well, what I assume is a fairly good distance?" He nodded. I was going to ask Him why He didn't just call me, but I was still feeling like crap, and I didn't want my ass whipped.

"Sir, can you tell me what happened last night? What did you and Daniel talk about after I ... um ..."

"After you got plastered and passed out?" He finished with a grin.

"Yes, Sir," I blushed.

"That reminds me ..." He went into the kitchen, with me in tow. "Where's your liquor?"

"Cabinet over the stove." I watched as He retrieved the bottle and poured the contents into the sink. "You are officially a non-drinker."

I didn't protest because it was a quarter empty, and I agreed with Him a hundred percent, or my head did. "Would you like a drink, Sir?"

"Yes. I'll get it."

We went back to the living room, and I threw myself on the couch, leaned against the arm rest and stretched out. Poor little Heather hissed at Hiliad and ran off into the bedroom. "Tell me, please, Sir?"

He took a sip of His sheep's blood before He said, "You were so emotionally wound up last night and used that energy to knock me on my ass. I have never met anyone—a human, that is—that could ... take me down. Daniel made his presence known by doing it again."

"I remember you being hurt."

"I was not hurt," He corrected harshly then softened His voice. "You are Bintaur, Bin, as is Daniel. Did you have any idea?"

"I've never heard of such a thing."

"Daniel explained Bins are drawn together ... it's like love at first sight, although I can honestly say I've never experienced that." He hesitated for a millisecond, but it was enough for me to catch it. "He lied about one little fact: Thomas Milton does not want to kill the remaining Bins."

"What? Just me?"

"Daniel wanted to protect you. When he knew he couldn't, he somehow knew you'd come to me."

"And you knew nothing of that?" I asked, though I didn't hear my disrespectful tone.

"You will think before you speak, Ms. Byers, so that you do not feel the need to apologize for what you say. Aside from us vampires there is a whole other world of beings out there. Bins are the only ones capable of ... defending themselves against vampires, werewolves, shape shifters, witches ..."

"Leprechauns?"

He rolled His eyes. "... and everything else for that matter. The Bins are dwindling in population, and for the last few decades Milton himself has been trying to procreate, but failed many times. For every successful conception, the fetus died either in-vitro or still-born, and every female died shortly afterward."

I took that as meaning I could never conceive. I was heartbroken. "There were no live births," I confirmed, more muttering to myself.

"No."

"So what the hell does that have to do with me?" I didn't get the significance.

"You are the last living female Bin."

Thoughts ran through my head, up and down, back and forth, left and right, through then back again. Then I understood. My head spun, and it wasn't the effects of the liquor. "He wants me?" Hiliad nodded. "That's suicide!"

"He won't have you," He stated resolutely.

I didn't hear His comment. "Daniel did love me," I said so quietly I didn't think Hiliad heard me.

"Yes, and for that and bringing you to me, I owe him."

I grew sick to my stomach and knew I had to get my ass back in bed. "So, what happens now, Sir?" I just had to ask.

"I've notified the Sheriff in Loudon County, Virginia. We're meeting next week. I must bring to their attention that Milton might get a little ... out of control when he realizes he cannot have you."

"We? You and Daniel are going to meet him, the Sheriff?"

"Her, actually. Francesca must be informed of Milton's intentions; it's not something that can be discussed over the phone. And we, as in you, me, Hugh and Wilma, are going."

"No, no. I can't get them involved."

Hiliad told me that Wilma's ability will be beneficial when we meet with Milton, to get his thoughts, and that they had some kind of agreement that she would help Him when needed.

Then I really knew it was time to go to bed. I stood and walked to my bedroom, with Hiliad close behind. At the master bathroom door, I turned around sharply. "Sir, if you don't mind, I need to be alone."

He sat on the edge of the bed. "Yes, I do mind."

I was becoming very agitated, but swallowed hard to control myself. Kneeling at His feet, my hands behind me, I peered up at Him. "Sir, with all due respect, I am tired, my head hurts, I've just heard some life-changing news, I smell, and I need a shower desperately. If it pleases you, I would much prefer to spend time by myself to take in all that's happened and been said."

A smile slowly rose on His lips, His fangs fully extended. I knew what that meant. Not that I didn't want Him, I just couldn't give Him my all, mentally, that is. He slid off the bed and put His hands out for mine. I cringed, but took His hands and He helped me up. He stared over my face, never losing His smile. "May I wash you?"

"Another time, Sir?"

He grew stern. "Why are you arguing with me?"

"I ... yes Sir." There was no strength in my body to fight Him, not even in my pinky toe.

Pulling me into the bathroom, He leaned against the counter, quickly unbuttoned my flannel shirt then swiftly pulled down the lounge pants, including my underwear. Without instruction, I stepped out of them, and He ran His cool, big, strong hands over my back, to my waist, to my stomach, then back to my ass, kissing the enclave between my breasts. I heard a sigh, and it came from me.

"Get the shower running," He told me.

When it was hot enough, I turned to ask Him if I could get in. My words caught in the back of my throat. Hiliad was standing there in His full glory, and so was He. "You like?" He said sheepishly, knowing full well I did.

"Oh, yes Sir. I owe you one," I gurgled.

"You owe me more than one. Go on."

I grinned and stepped into the tub, groaning as the water cascaded down my back. I closed my eyes, pretending I was somewhere else, when Hiliad began to touch me again. I never opened my eyes as I stood still. I heard Him take the bar of soap then gasped when the contrast of the hot water and His cold hands gave me shivers.

He took His time cleaning me, and with every stroke I whimpered from the back of my throat. His flat hands lingered over my breasts, my nipples greeting His skin instantly. Placing His hands on my hips, He swiveled my hips to turn around, which I did, and He lathered, caressed, and rinsed me from my shoulders to my ankles. My mind was gone, completely shattered. There must have been nothing but mushed-up brain matter squashing in my skull.

"Are you content now, little one?" Hiliad asked me, brushing the hair away from my face.

It felt like I was floating on a cloud, all warm and clean and dry. "Hmm, oh, yes Sir," I mumbled, opening my eyes. Hiliad was staring down at me, sitting beside me as I lay tucked into bed. I didn't even remember getting into bed. "When—"

"Shhhh," He cooed then kissed the tip of my nose. I closed my eyes, letting my body drift away. "Now, what was that you told me last night?"

Hiliad's POV:

I knew very well what Ms. Byers told me last night. My memory is carved in stone, and I heard her loud and clear. I just wanted to know if she could say it again—in her undrunken state.

Connee's eyes flew open, and she looked frightened. She should be. Trying to play stupid, but reading right through her, she told me, "I said a lot of things last night, Sir."

"I'm referring to the very last words."

She closed her eyes, and I fought the urge to force her to open them. I wanted to give her the chance to tell me the truth. Shaking her head back and forth, she muttered, "I ... I can't." Her face was incredibly strained.

"And why not?"

"Be ... Because I don't ..."

I put my hands on her shoulders, squeezing my fingers. Well, so much for controlling myself. She looked at me. "You don't what?"

Tears built up in her eyes. "I don't ... want you to be ... mad at me."

"I will only be mad if you don't tell me."

"Please. Don't. Make. Me," she cried, her body then shaking.

I let go of my grip on her, but kept my fingers there. "Why are you afraid?"

"Becau ... I don't find you the ... type of man to ..." Blinking, her tears remained on her eyelashes. Her eyes closed fighting them back. I reached out with my thumb, applied the gentlest pressure and wiped over her eyes, one by one. She sighed slightly.

"I'm not a man at all, if you think about it."

Her eyes fluttered open slowly and she looked at me. "You are a man ... to me."

"Hmm, let me rephrase the question. What do you feel for me?" I lie down beside her, put my right arm over her head, my left over her collarbone, and cradled her.

"I ... I find myself looking at the clock a million times for ten o'clock to come around. I wait for your voice in the hallway, and jump every time the phone rings, thinking it's you." She took a deep breath, her body still tense. "When I get home, I can't sleep because I'm wondering what you're doing, where you spend your days, wondering what you're thinking. God, it sounds like I'm emotionally dependent on you. But ..."

"But what?" At that point we were getting somewhere.

"I ... I don't know." Hell, just hit a brick wall. "How can I be in love with someone that ..."

"That what? Feeds off humans? Has a violent nature?"

"No!" She pulled back and looked over my face. "Someone that has as much power as you. You have women at your feet—sometimes men. They plead with their eyes for you to acknowledge them, look at them, want them. And sometimes they have my face. How does that make me any diff—?"

"I don't care about them."

She frowned. "That scares me." She settled back down, briefly closing her eyes. Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. I wiped them away. Her body shuddered, but not in a sexual way.

"Connee Byers, it's been a long time since ... I never thought I ..."

"Could you ... love me back, Sir?" She recoiled with fright.

I did the only thing I could think of to do: I ran my chin over her forehead, her cheeks, her chin. She grabbed my forearm and squeezed it, turning her head towards mine. I knew what she wanted. She didn't get that kiss from me, though. I grazed my bottom lip over her neck, traced up to her earlobe and flicked my tongue over it. She heaved a noiseless sigh. I wasn't giving that to her, either, although Viking Prince wanted to—badly. I kissed her over and over on every swath of skin I could find. Her fingers found their way to my neck and ran her nails over it, making me want to change my mind. I didn't. Her own lips found my ear, my one weak spot, and nibbled eagerly.

I pulled away. "No, no, little girl." She pouted. "Don't try that with me. It won't work." It would, but I wasn't going to tell her that. "Give me time?"

"You have more time than I do, Sir." She yawned with a little squeak.

I chuckled. "You're right. But vampires can speed up time, you know?" I told her seriously.

Her eyes widened. "Really? How cool!"

I laughed hard then put my hand on her cheek. "You are too precious. I'm teasing you."

"Huh? Vampires have a sense of humor?"

"Yes. Look at Liza." We both laughed that time. Connee's laugh was cut off with another yawn. "Now it's time for you to go to sleep." She nodded and closed her eyes. "You still didn't say it," I said, scurrying my thumb over her jaw line.

She sighed, defeated. "I'm falling in love with you." She grasped my arm and held it to her chest like it was a Teddy Bear.

The wall just crumbled.

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"Hugh Lewis, you will do it."

We were standing in his living room. He was none too happy when I told him he and Wilma would be joining Connee and me when we went to Virginia the following week.

He approached me and got right in my face, which angered me. "I will not be involved in this. I will not put Wilma's life in danger."

"You've already put her in danger with your little ... scheme," I spat, making my point very clear.

"That is none of your affair," he said, fuming then.

I called his bluff. Pulling my cell phone from my pocket, I hit speed dial. Looking him right in the eyes, I said, when it was answered by Arlene, "Wilma, please." I waited for his reaction, and was satisfied.

Stepping back, he said, "All right. But this comes at a price."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Mr. Lewis," I replied, closing the phone. "Liza will be in touch with the arrangements."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Before y'all blast me about Hiliad's behavior -- he makes restitution. He's not a bad guy...I mean vampire!