She Knows Pt. 01

If looks could kill... "I have just flown your brotha and his group here. Waitin you go change 'er." His accept thickened about halfway through, leaving me to wonder at the meaning of the second sentence.

"Eh-he." Lucienne cocked her hip and made a hand gesture, East coast accent giving way to a Nigerian one that was completely at odds with her coloring. "Correct me if I am wrong," she rolled her r's heavily, "but am I not the motha? Did I not carry this pekin? Have I not fed her, and bathed her, and nursed her? And I ask you for a simple task and--and--and you behave in this way?"

"I am your husband--"

"Che! My husband? My husband?" She raised her hand and drew it back like she was about to slap him. "Get away 'fore I kill you! Idiot!"

He flushed red, and blew out a long stream of smoke. "I--I--I will deal with you, madam!"

"Deal with me? Che!" She flipped her hair, and said something that I couldn't understand. Asher laughed loudly and Ward looked slightly chagrined. He responded in kind with a far softer tone, before casting us a look.

"Good night, ladies," Ward said quietly before wincing slightly, bending down to kiss his wife on the cheek, and moving up the stairs.

As soon as he disappeared into the manse, Lucienne's whole body changed. Weariness tugged her arms down and lines I hadn't noticed etched deep grooves into her face. She pinched the bridge of her nose, and when she spoke again, I couldn't detect even the slightest Nigerian accent, "It's early, I'm exhausted, and my night's just beginning. How about we talk in evening."

I shrugged, suppressing a yawn. "Sounds good to me. Just point me to a bed."

She turned on her heel and started up the stairs. "Follow me."

We walked up the steps and entered the building. Inside was dimly lit with a wide foyer with twin staircases on either side of it. Dark wood floors, soft lighted sconces, and minimal furniture added to the relaxed atmosphere.

"This is my home," Lucienne explained, "but it doubles as staff housing. It's in the back of the property. I'll give you a tour of the grounds tomorrow evening, and see if we can make it into town too."

She turned toward us and clasped her hands in front of her. "The second floor is for magical creatures, the first for humans. The East wing is for friends, the South for children, and the West for family." Digging in the loose pockets of her pajama pants, she pulled out two keys with room number tags on them. "You ladies are in luck. We've had a number of guests flood in today, but we still have two rooms free with two beds in each. One of you will have to share a room, but I don't think that'll be a problem."

I could hear the question she didn't ask, and I flicked a gaze to Asher to see if he'd say anything. His mouth remained closed. A quick look at Daphne and Robin showed the same thing. So no one was going to tell our hostess that my father had called every demon back to Ectar. Fine by me.

"I'm just so glad you're hosting us at all." Polite. Polite. Polite. "Thank you so much." I looked between my two friends and settled on Robin; we were the least likely to get in a cat fight. "Mind if I crash with you?"

A warm arm wrapped around my waist and lifted me up against a hard male body. "You sleep with me."

I tilted my head back and glared at him. "I sleep with whomever I want."

The fanged smile he cast me held a hint of mischief. "Your friend is welcome in our bed."

"In your dreams."

"That's against the rules," Lucienne interrupted. "Men and women cannot share rooms unless they're married. It's Ward's archaic rule, but one that's heavily enforced as Asher knows," she drawled with a knowing smile, "But I think the room next to Asher's is free. Just let me check."

"Lem," Asher said after a moment.

Lucienne's eyebrows shot to he hairline. "Lem? Ne trilue ishk?"

"Ziznean."

She turned and took a longer look at me, rattling off something to Asher that I just couldn't catch. He laughed and she rolled her eyes. "Have it your way, Brivet. But if shit hits the fan--" she stopped, sighed, ran her hand across her face. "When shit hits the fan you better deal with it."

"I will."

"Uh-huh." She clapped her hands together and rubbed her palms. "Okay, ladies your rooms are to the left, 203 and 205. The doors are already locked so you're set. Asher, you know where everything is so I'm not going to bother. I'll introduce you all to everyone at sunset. Night!" Lucienne headed in the direction of the West wing, disappearing after a second.

"Is she really your sister?" I asked after a long moment. "She's not at all like--"

"Me?" He raised a brow.

I coughed.

His laugh curled my toes and warmed spots that should have been cold. Well, maybe not cold, but at least not burning hot like they were. "Let's go to bed, Vera."

I didn't think he meant it in any other way than the sexual, but a hand on my arm stopped me from moving. Robin's eyes bored into me. "I didn't get you away from one psychotic, domineering asshole just so you could find another one. What are you doing, Vera?"

I was about to be doing Asher. But she had a point, a very crucial one. What was I doing with the vampire? He wasn't like my father, I knew that, but I was still guessing they were cut from a similar pattern. Did that make me my mother? Every time I saw my mom she looked fragile, wary, a forced happiness on her face that kept me on my toes.

But deciding the rest of my life at six in the morning wasn't the best way to go about things. Asher was safe... as long as I was bound to him, that is. And I trusted that connection a lot more than the one I had with Daphne and Robin.

Tugging my arm from the succubus's grasp, I faced her squarely. "I'm doing what I need to survive, and learning along the way."

"Learning, or repeating mistakes?" Daphne muttered under her breath.

I peered around Robin and looked at the other succubus. "Cut the Mother Theresa act, Daph, just makes you a bitch."

When I'd first met her, she hadn't been like this. The girl was a wild, untamable tomboy to the core just like Robin and me. We'd gotten along great, then one day she just changed. Dressed in pretty things that blended into everything, she was more like an ornament or piece of furniture than a friend.

I wasn't dumb enough to think my father wasn't at the center of her transformation too. It seemed whatever awful thing had befallen my friends and made them so... lifeless and bland was caused by my father, and, indirectly, me.

"I am who I am, Vera," Daphne said in that same infuriatingly quiet tone. I'd liked her better when she'd been calling me a cunt and trying to rip out my hair.

"You are who you choose to be." I looked back at Robin, letting all my uncertainty and fear and resilience show in my eyes. I wasn't claiming to know what the hell I was doing, but at least I was doing something. The shell I'd lived in was cracked, and there was no point in trying to force myself back into it. "I choose to be the succubus fucking a vampire tonight.That's the choice I'm making." I sidled up to Asher's side and let him slide an arm around my waist and lead me in the opposite direction of the girls.

"I hope he eats you!" Robin yelled after me, probably waking the whole damn house. "I hope he rips out your heart and devours it! Go to hell you stupid fucking bitch!"

I blew her a kiss over my shoulder and smiled from ear to ear. She lurched toward me but Daphne held her back. Her voice was a hiss through tightly gritted teeth, "I should have let you die."

CHAPTER TWELVE

I should have let you die. The words bounced around in my head with each step I took away from my friends. Which time was Robin talking about? When we were kids and I almost fell off the balcony but she caught me at the last minute? Two summers ago when I'd been in my wild-child rebellion phase and told a banshee to fuck off during the full moon? There were more times--stupid times--when Death and I'd played chess and I'd somehow won.

I should have let you die. I hated Robin and loved her at the same time because some deep, dark part of me thought she was right. My death would solve so many problems, least of all the guilt gnawing at me. Asher wouldn't be here, my father would've found another bargaining chip, and my friends would be safe.

Fuck. That.

The demon part of me that was all blood and fangs and sex laughed harshly. Life is a series of fuck ups. You either move past or let them swallow you whole.

Now even my conscience was starting to sound like Asher. Great.

The thought of the vampire walking next to me triggered something else. Not quite violence, but something that bordered on it--shook hands and laughed over wine while it fingered a knife under the table.

I shoved Asher into an alcove we were passing. "I need sex." Damned if I was batting my lashes, getting on my knees, and begging. I'd take it--take him and his everything.

His eyes didn't flash red, they bled it. Starting from the corners and moving toward the black of his iris. Blood flowed, scented the air, and charged it. "It'll hurt," he rumbled between fangs too big for his mouth.

The laugh that came out of my throat wasn't me. "I hope so."

My knees gave out, crashed to the marble floor as my hands ripped away his pants, fingernails breaking on the steel of his zipper. He was in my mouth before I'd freed him of the jeans, and my lips pushed the fabric of his boxers away, saliva forcing the silk to stick to his skin. His fingers scored my scalp, held me in place as his hips thrust into my face and he fucked my mouth.

"No teeth," he groaned, thrusting shallowly.

Don't tell me what to do, I said through our mind link as I raked my teeth ever-so lightly along his length. He swelled and his hips bucked in response, fingers tightening until they drew blood and his nails turned to claws. I returned in kind, scratching his thighs until his blood coated my cheeks and his pre-cum dripped from my chin.

There was an edge of brutality to the way beasts mated, and we were fucking beasts. Animals dragged from the primordial soup and forced into staunch, restrictive clothing, then given a language that always paled to actions. Asher's hips thrust faster, his pelvic bone grinding against my jaw with his pubic hair tickling my nose. I took him so deep in my throat until I felt him in my stomach.

"I'm coming," he warned.

I switched quickly, drew my head all the way back until only the very tip of him was between my lips and I bit down. He roared as he came, jerking uncontrollably, nails ripping at my scalp and hair. I moved my hand to my head and crushed his fingers in my grasp while I used my other hand to grip his length. He expanded, contracted. When I felt his body go lax, I used my index finger and pushed him to the ground.

Rising to my feet, I stared down at his flushed, pale face. Give and take. Pleasure and pain. Lines in sand that blurred with rain or blood. Asher and I would always spray blood.

I stared down at the vampire, chest pumping like he'd run a marathon, sweat leaking from every pore and saturating our small space with his scent. He was thoroughly drained, replete. Mine. I understood it now, the weird connection between us. Asher was mine just like the clouds were the sky's. There was no separation, no escape. And in that total confinement there was peace, a sense of place and being and knowing. With my vampire I didn't have to be anything other than what I was: A killer, A naïve daughter, A shitty friend.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as I shed my clothes. "If there was another way--"

"It's fine." He smiled wanly, looking the weakest I'd ever seen him. "You need. I give."

So simple. Perfect and uncomplicated and fucked up to the nines. My smile was brilliant and devastating, mocking me in my reflection against the cool marble. I could feel his pain through the bond and he could feel mine. I should have let you die.

die.

Die.

DIE.

I sank down onto his cock, still red and crusted with blood. Tears streamed down my face as I planted my hands on his chest, dug my nails in, and rode him.

Words weren't supposed to hurt anymore; they didn't have that sort of power. Words were ineffective unless a movement, an action, a finger tightening around a piece of curled metal propelled them.

Gasping, I clung to him, knees bruising on the floor; his fingers dug into the flesh of my hips, yanking me down until I felt him brush my cervix. I scratched, bit, and clawed at him, trying to rip off his skin and wear it. Asher growled savagely, grabbing my hair in a tight fist and flipping me over. "You need release? I'm giving it to you. Giving everything."

"It's not enough." God, would it ever be enough?

"I have to be," he gritted, teeth on my throat. "It's just you and me."

I could hear the word he didn't say: forever. He'd never share me and I'd be damned if I'd let another living creature within five feet of him.

"Harder." I wanted to feel him in my throat.

He shifted his hips and lifted my leg so it rested on his shoulder. Then he thrust. It was just the right amount of pleasure-pain mind melding I needed. "More or less?"

"Yes" was a hiss between teeth. My neck arched, eyes going cross. Asher fucked with total confidence, every dig from his claws, bite from his fangs, and glide of his cock a confirmation that not only would I not be able to walk in the morning, but I wouldn't want to. All I'd want was more of this. Him. Us. A fuck. A--

Tap, tap, tap. The steady thrum of heels on tile washed over Asher's conscious and tumbled into mine. Shit!

"Ash--"

His hand covered my mouth, red eyes boring into mine. I gasped into his palm as the back of his shirt tore open and revealed those stunning gray wings. He wrapped his other arm around me, hooked my legs over his, and lifted an inch off the floor. His wings extended the width of the hallway, brushing the paintings on the walls before snapping back and propelling us forward.

We're flying! I didn't have time to comprehend it as his wings flapped again, harder, before shifting and covering us. We hit something brittle, a window. Glass sliced my thigh and shattered on the floor of the hallway. I could hear an alarm sounding in the house, but found it increasingly hard to pay attention and care. Sunshine washed over my skin, birds chirped near my ears, and wind rushed between the places where Asher and I weren't touching. Extending my fingers, I let them glide against the breeze, be warmed by the sun. They curled when Asher thrust again. Mid flight, touching the sky, he fucked with the same patience he'd had in the hallway, the bedroom, against the door. He was in the moment with me and nothing short of a bullet grazing our heads was going to stop him.

I came suddenly. Screamed as it tore through me like a timed bomb detonating. Arching my back, I gasped as his feathers brushed my over-sensitized skin. His hand moved to my neck--my breasts--my clit. I came harder, burning from the inside out.

"I-I can't," I whimpered as his fingers glided around the place we were joined, circling, teasing to the point of pain.

"You will."

The next orgasm eclipsed the first or maybe it never ended. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

"That's what I'm doing," Asher laughed gruffly. Pressing down on my clit, he pulled out slightly and thrust all the way in. I clamped, harder, hotter, the best cunt he'd ever had--was ever going to have.

"Vera, stop." Asher nipped my ear, scenting the breeze with blood. "If I come again, we'll--"

I tilted up and pulled harder. Come. Now. Asher's eyes pierced mine, that startling green cutting through everything. He looked good in the light, highlighted like an angel instead of the demon he was. It made him way more dangerous.

He jerked inside me, his forehead brushing mine. His thoughts tumbled fast into me, like a dam breaking. Sadness, joy, secrets, loves. I saw through his eyes to a million lifetimes ago, until I became him. He wasn't just fucking me, he was fucking every person he'd ever had, their faces blending and swirling in a torrent of color that stopped suddenly on one image. Me. My face and body and eyes staring up at him, back at him, as we made love in beds I'd never seen, with ripped clothes I'd never worn dangling from sweaty limbs.

Then I was seeing Brodie and me in a Jeep; my first time in the backseat of a stolen car. Asher's vehemence seared me, branded me, and suddenly my first time was being torn apart. Brodie was dripping blood, thrusting in, splitting in half, being reborn, and Asher was making me come hard and fast in the back seat of a Jeep.

Vera. His voice always had that sexy incubus bedroom quality, like he'd just got done going down on someone for hours. I tugged his head closer, felt my hands glide over his shoulders, the ridges of his back that broke away and became wings. I felt what that did to him.

Ashermine.

The next second, we were falling. Torpedoing to the ground. We crashed, his wings half shielding us, into a garden of lilies before rolling a few times and coming to stop at the edge of the lily patch as they bled into roses. Thank God for that. Asher was breathing hard beneath me, chest rising and falling in breaths I wondered if he even needed to take. I lounged on top of him, head in the crook of his neck, breasts flushed to his chest, legs twined around his.

"That was--" I started.

"Intense."

"Crazy."

"Hot."

"Very hot," I agreed, licking the blood that leaked from small cuts around his neck and shoulders. Hmm... Something about Asher's blood left me dizzy, floating. It was sweet and thick and heady like his cum.

In the distance I heard a door close and female laughter. Asher sighed deeply, lifting a hand to rub it over my sore, bruised back. I hissed at the contact and he kissed my shoulder gently. "I was too rough."

"I should be saying that." I'd nearly killed him and we both knew it. "You didn't feed from me."

"It wasn't about me."

That made my head rise. Our eyes connected and I saw something in there I hadn't seen before: me. I shivered. "What the hell are we?"

I didn't love him. Fuck, most of the time I didn't even like him. And yet, I couldn't imagine myself without Asher. Couldn't think of a future without him in it. When I tried, it was like I was rending myself, tearing away everything essential. But he wasn't supposed to be essential, wasn't supposed to be mine.

"We're Asher and Vera," he said quietly. "Vampire and succubus."

That was just the tip of a very large, sunk-in iceberg.

"When we first met you snapped my neck. Vampires and succubi are enemies. It's not like riding your cock would make me forget that."

"I don't expect you to forget, I expect you to get over it. That was before and this is now."

I pushed off him, but he pulled me back down. Always pulled me down. "You can't pick and choose what you want to remember, Asher."

"Says who?"

"Me!" I wrenched myself away and it was pain that was equal parts mental and physical. The ground was soft and cool on my feet, the morning air hitting my warm skin and freezing it. "You know I've killed your kind for years and I can only imagine what you've done. Just because we're bound doesn't erase those transgressions. If anything it intensifies them."

He folded his arms behind his head. "How so?"

"Where do you think that rage is now? Think it just said, 'Well, they're bound. Time to head out'? No." I barked out a laugh and shook my head. "We can't hurt each other even though we want to, so that bloodlust is directed at other people. I've known you for barely three days and you've killed four people."