Once Dead Twice Bound Ch. 02

"Not at all." I was floating, anxiety murdered by the warm shower and Tara's tender care.

She was deft as she wrapped the towel around my neck and lathering up my skin with a dark mahogany bowl and brush. A cold razor followed shortly after, the sharp blade sliding across my skin, divesting me of the short hairs, leaving my skin smoother than a freshly waxed hotrod. Her arms curled around me, my throat nestled into the crook of her elbows. Her chin laid at the peak of my forehead and her throat rumbled with a pleasing sensation.

"Thank you for that. I've somewhat missed doing this. There is peace to be found in the silence between strokes of a brush and blade. It's almost as good as meditation. Making someone look and feel their best reminds me of being taught by Mr. Salem, the manager of this quaint tea and barber shop. He found me during one of my bleak spells, where I despaired of ever finding you, and offered to teach me what he knew. I think he was lonely in that shop and found someone who could use a little companionship as much as he did."

A strange feeling bubbled in my gut and, much like dinner with the guard, I couldn't stop the messy ball of jealousy and possessiveness that sought to disrupt my calm. A pulse of warmth and love pulsed through our bond from Tara's end, chasing away the smokey negative feelings.

"It wasn't like that, lover. He was merely a friend during a trying time. Plus, as a barghest, he was a little too wild for me. Great big teeth and entirely too much body hair. Also the sweetest man I've ever had the pleasure of meeting and a dear friend."

A guard entered after knocking. "The Lady is ready for you in the secondary dining room."

"He'll be with you in a minute, just finishing up here." Tara then did something exceedingly strange. She rubbed her neck up against mine, and continued down the shoulders before switching sides, repeating the process as she did.

"What was that for?"

"You aren't the only one who can be possessive. In this case, it's a subtle reminder that although I'm letting her dine with you, I'm in no way relinquishing my claim to you."

"Oh, so you're claiming me now?" I teased, the thought making me stomach dance pleasantly.

"Yes," she said bluntly, stoking the joy fairies that danced across my brain. "You are mine, Jack Reynolds in just the same way that I am yours. We are fated to be together and I will not relinquish you for anything. Now shoo. Go show that frigid old dragon a good time. She's nice, once you break through her court mask. Just be yourself and everything will be fine." As she talked she bustled me out the door and into the care of the waiting guard who immediately began leading me down the opulent hallways.

Wide bay windows overlooked a rose garden, where a pair of maids, in classical dress, roamed with silver watering cans. Rose gold light bathed the entire scene in warm colors, lending the scene a languid, magical quality.

"Welcome Mr. Reynolds, thank you for coming." Pausing, she gave me a once over. "You look handsome," Diana said politely. Dressed to kill, she wore a flattering silver dress that somehow didn't washout her already pale features. She wore limited jewelry, just two ruby studs in her ears and a matching necklace. The pieces were antique in design, but obviously well cared for and did a great job of drawing the eye without becoming the centerpiece of her ensemble. That was reserved for her striking violet eyes which took note of my unsubtle analysis, and returned one of her own. Obviously liking what she saw, she blew a glittering smoke heart that dissolved into a chrome flame. Her wings fluttered through the open backed dress. My shoulder blades itched with my own wings absence.

"Please call me Jack. Mr. Reynolds sounds far too dignified for a lowly college student like me. Although, considering my lack of attendance, I might not even be that anymore. What do you say Lady, care to slum it up with a college dropout?" I sketched what I thought a curtsy should look like, presenting her my hand.

Her laugh was loud and genuine. "Jack. It would be my absolute pleasure to, as you say, 'slum it up.' Most people are so intimidated by my title that they forget how to tie their shoes. Let alone see the woman behind the title."

"Ha. The woman behind the Lady," I chuckled at her inadvertent wordplay. "Don't get me wrong. It's only ignorance that prevents me from having the same fault. Ignorance and slip on shoes." Pointing my the toe toward her on my forward foot, I showed off the brown leather loafers Tara had set out for me.

"What wonderful wit." Diana walked around the small table, pulled out the chair, and gestured for me to sit.

Releasing my ridiculous pose, I did so with as much grace as I could muster, paying attention the spread in front of us for the first time. It composed of carefully cut meats, cheeses, and fruits. The single pronged silver poker befuddled me for a moment, as there were no visible plates or glasses.

Diana smiled self indulgently, providing me no clarification for the unusual dining arrangements. Dragging the chair that was across from me to the adjacent side of the table, she arranged the seating to her liking. Sitting, she daintily smoothed imperceptible wrinkles from her dress as her tail wrapped around one of the chair legs. Taking pity on me, she decided to reveal her plan for the evening.

"Dinner dates, I have generally found, are incredibly stuffy affairs, full of roundabout talk that no one truly cares for with entirely too much safety and testing the waters until we stumble upon safe topics to discuss. This, is a much more intimate affair. I feed you and ask you a question, you consider it while you chew and answer it to the best of your abilities. Then you get to feed me and ask me a question in return. Sound good?" Her knee bumped against mine and I could feel my heartbeat approach the red zone while breaking out into a light sweat.

"I guess. But-"

"Good. I will start first." She looked at me from the corner of her eye before selecting what looked to be a piece of medium rare roast. It felt a little silly as she brought the piece of meat in front of my mouth. "Tell me about your studies? What is your major?"

The meat was delicious, savory and juicy in equal measures while I chewed and thought about my answer. "General studies, I was hoping some class or teacher would click but it hasn't yet. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up." Selecting a strawberry, I held it out for her, the end waving a bit with my nervous shaking.

Her teeth split the rip red fruit while her lips closed around the overly elaborate toothpick. Entrancing was the only word for it as she kept those violet irises locked on my face while mine were locked on her lips.

Those beautiful pale pink lips.

She smiled indulgently, and patted at her lips with a black napkin. "You are supposed to ask a question. That's how this works. Give and take."

"Pass," I said, shaking my way out of my presumably creepy stare.

"I'll let you off the hook this time." Patting my thigh with unforced conviviality, she selected a banana.

I looked at it with distaste as she set it against my lips. Parting my lips to accept the unappetizing fruit, she surprised me by taking it away and returning with a slice of mellow cheese I accepted gratefully.

"Do you find me attractive?"

I almost choked on the cheese.

Smiling she thumped my back a couple of times while presenting me a glass of water. I swallowed around a

"I think... Uhhh. I think you know the answer to that."

"Tsk. Tsk," she said, waving a finger at me. "That's not how this game works. Plus, it is always good to feel appropriately flattered from time to time." She waggled her eyebrows at me, her eyes glittering with expectation. Expectation, and a hint of uncertainty that hovered in the shadows.

Maybe the question isn't entirely the ego trip I first thought it to be.

"I think your very pretty." She fluttered her eyelashes at me coquettishly and I continued. "Ummm your bearing, its very regal, almost intimidatingly so. But not in a bad way. It's like... You seem to know what you want, and aren't afraid to go get it. I'm not like that. I want to be. I just... can't. You're confidence is a pretty big turn on, if I'm being totally honest."

My words seemed to stun her. Her eyes were wide and I thought for a moment I'd screwed it up.

"You also have very nice features, your eyes are very fetching."

Fetching? Who says fetching? Are we in the 1940's? Idiot.

Her lips curled into a sly smile and she seemed almost... embarrassed?... at my earnest praise. "You're a bit of a smooth talker aren't you? I'm excited to see what other surprises you have in store." She leaned forward onto her chin and brew another cloud of sparkles that flitted about the dining room before disappearing.

Her talk about the future jostled something in my head, and I decided to push whatever luck had me saying the right thing tonight.

Be bold. Didn't Tara say that honest communication is one of the most important things? Hope she knows what she's talking about.

"I don't think I'm ready for kids yet. I'm not even sure I want kids. This is important to you, I get that, as much as I'm able. It just... doesn't... feel... right..." I trailed off under the look she was giving me.

What'd once been amusement and a little desire had blossomed into naked lust as her claws scored the wood underneath the table cloth. Her presence seemed to expand as her thin tongue stretched over her lips, wetting them and drawing my eyes. Her smell of whiskey and heat billowed out around us, swaddling me in what felt like a lust that bordered on a need. Eyes that spoke far to strongly off possessiveness broke off, her nostrils flaring as she turned away.

"How long?" She asked, deliberately not looking at me.

I couldn't tell if she was angry or not. "What?"

"How long? How long until you think you'd be ready for kids?"

"I don't really know. I've never really been in the situation to even consider that it was a possibility until recently." I thought about it for a moment. "At least five. Probably between five and ten years. I'd want to have a stable job and at least be fiscally solvable enough to contemplate buying my own home."

"Those are unnecessary guideposts. For so many reasons they are not applicable to our unique situation. You're still so young, you have adventures unseen just waiting for you to grab them, and I won't shackle you to me and my post in a measly six months time."

Six months? What is she talking to me?

"Even if you managed to inseminate me today, my baby... Our baby. Still wouldn't be ready to great the world for a full fifty two seasonal cycles, as is right and proper. For now, all we need to do is focus on each other and how we feel. I promise I will not force you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with." She took a sip from a glass of wine. "Well... nothing too uncomfortable. I do have this interesting device, it has bindings that wrap around your..." She smirked at the bug eyed look that generated and left her thought unfinished.

"It's nine months."

"Hmmm?"

"Human pregnancies take nine months," I said, focusing on a fact I could wrap my brain around. I took a sip of water as she waved off the fact as inconsequential. "You are all so casual about sex it... It makes it hard for me to feel comfortable. What with my inexperience," I admitted.

"Honey," she said, wrapping my hand in her cool to the touch scaled one. "We won't hurt you. Not intentionally. Everyone ever born has at one time or another been out of their depth, in both personal and business matters. The only thing that should be done, is to accept chances when they come until such situations become commonplace. I say this as a person who clearly has no bias whatsoever for giving you this advice," she said with a wink.

"Really? Fifty two years?"

"As is proper." She took another sip of wine.

"Damn. I'll be an old man by that time."

She scoffed. "Hardly-"

Whatever was going to be said was interrupted by a commotion outside of the room as the guards were harangued by a blustering voice.

Diana huffed loudly and immediately started rubbing her temples as if to fend of a particularly virulent migraine. "Of all the times..."

A large, intimidating man pushed through the protesting guards.

"It's fine Chauncy, Phillip, let him in," Diana said wearily.

He appeared to be a dragon much like Diana, but where she favored cold whites in her coloration, this man possessed orange red scales that looked like sunset roses, with the color gradient running down each reptilian plate. While naked, he fortunately seemed to have the same concealed genitals I'd woken up owning. I don't know if I could keep my composure while staring down a one-eyed-willie.

"You! How dare you come in here and attempt to steal from me. She's mine!" He hissed, and seemed to loom larger, ominous smoke spilling from the side of his mouth, smelling of ginger and soot.

Is this Antonion? Can someone be both a dragon and a liche? That just doesn't seem fair. Not realizing the irony of that thought.

Tipping over and clattering to the ground, my chair suffered from my haste as I rose to my feet and assumed a defensive stance. Opal's instructions scrolled through my brain like a wallstreet teleprompter, faster than I could follow. I addressed the intruder with as much steel in my spine as I could muster. "She wasn't yours to steal. People aren't objects to be traded like favors or possessions."

"Hello Vincent. How wonderful to see you again," Diana said in a voice that clearly indicated anything but.

Not Antonion? Then who have I stolen? And how does this guy know me?

"Diana dear. I've given you the space you asked for, but it's been so long between visits that the sun has seemingly lost its luster. The moon cries out for your absence from my heart-"

"Save it Vincent. What are you doing here?" Diana asked with a clipped tone.

"I heard there was an... interloper..." His eyes darted toward me and he spoke with naked vehemence. Like the word would stain his mouth for even uttering it. "Encroaching in my territory, and I came to demand recompense. Or, upon refusing that, an honorable duel." He sneered at me. "If such a cur even understands such lofty ideals."

What is this guy's deal? What beef does he have with me?

"Look, Vincent was it? I think-"

"He has no intention of apologizing," Diana interrupted me, a strange gleam in her eyes, the weariness suddenly sloughing off her like water from a duck's back.

"Is that so?" Vincent growled, growing even larger and more menacing.

Is that so?

I looked to Diana and I saw her calm calm collected mask. Her tail, on the other hand, wrapped around my ankle and I felt a pulse pleading desperate desire thrum faintly through the air.

"Yes?" I said, more to Diana than Vincent.

She nodded, small enough to be barely noticeable.

I turned to Vincent and spoke more firmly. "Yes."

"Very well. It seems I have no choice than to challenge your honor, duel to be held on the morrow. When the suns rays first crest the horizon."

The scent of whiskey and heat spilled through the room, accompanying an echo of Diana's unbridled joy.

What the fuck is going on?