She Knows Pt. 01

When I looked at Asher, all I saw was acceptance. It messed with my mind, muddled it into thinking this was okay and perfect and exactly how it should be. This was love and acceptance and right.

"Wrong!" I screamed, clawing at my arms like the pain could keep those obsessive thoughts away. Asher was in front of me in a second, licking at the cuts, holding me so I didn't hurt myself. Gentle. Loving. Mine.

His hand fisted my hair and the next second I was on the ground, spine bruised, head spinning. "You are right, Vera. I do want to kill you. So fucking bad," the words were delivered through gritted teeth."But if I think about it, a part of me rips open and it's the most excruciating pain I've ever felt."

"Same."

"I've done things that would make you want to tear off every inch of skin I've ever touched."

"Same."

"The crunch of your bone, the taste of your fear." He ground against me, rock hard and ready to go. "Gets me every time."

"Yes." I could feel it, see it, breathe it in. Not Asher's death, but death itself. His emotions rammed into mine, murderous and vengeful.

"Everytime I fuck you and come inside you, I want to scream. You are the cunt daughter of the demon who took everything from me."

He coughed and something wet hit my face. Asher was feral above me, smiling from ear to ear with bloody teeth. Biting my tongue, I painted the inside of my mouth and smiled back at him. My father always said I played with fire. It was only a matter of time before I burned.

Our mouths collided, teeth banging, cracking. Blood and thoughts mixing in a violent orgy of scenarios neither of us could inflict on the other. Bound. It wasn't a pretty word when you thought about it; it was limiting, restrictive, punishing. Bound beasts--shackled, locked, manacled to each other. Those bindings cut off circulation, made us numb, compliant--made us forget they were there.

Until that moment.

I felt Asher try to break them, hurt himself in the process and God, did I want to help him and God, did I want to kill him. I sunk my teeth into his flesh as he sunk his cock into me. Wanted to rip his heart out and devour it as he devoured me.

My rose-tinted world turned crimson as Asher's fangs brushed my neck, once twice, before digging deep and ripping out a chunk of my shoulder. He thrust into me, high, fast, brutal; I clawed at his back, tearing away ligaments and tossing them across the grass.

"If we ever get un-bound--"

His fist hit the earth next to my head, sending dirt and grass flying. His cock dragged out of me, clawed nails scraping against my clit. "I'm killing you."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Life never gave me lemons, so I didn't even try to make lemonade. Guns and knives, blood and souls. There wasn't much to make out of those other than a mess. A very hot one.

As I stared up at Asher's ceiling--or more aptly, the ceiling his sister had decided belonged in his room--I examined where I stood. A dozen Botticelli angels gazed down at me and I felt like the Devil.

My father took from everyone, killed everything. And while I as horrified--totally and completely scared shitless--a part of me acknowledged his strategy. Love was glue in a very complicated puzzle that extended far beyond the people in question. Remove the glue and all those large and small pieces came tumbling down, creating little shockwaves and after effects. Asher's loathing, Robin's obedience, and Daphne's reluctance were all symptoms of that fall. Even my own naivete was a result.

If my father hadn't taken my mother away time and time again, the person I became could've been different.

Could've been better, I thought.

Could've been worse, my inner voice tsked.

Asher rolled over beside me, pulling me close with needy fingers on my bruised hips. "Go to sleep."

"I can't."

He sighed and lightly bit my neck. "Sleep before I kill you."

That made me smile, though it really shouldn't have. I turned to Asher, lids half lowered over green eyes that weren't even the slightest bit red. "It's been four days." Four days. Four murders. Four victims.

"And?"

I think if I ever made lemonade it'd be sour and laced with arsenic. "I hope tomorrow never comes."

***

"I liked that garden."

I flinch hard at the words, said conversationally only a few feet away. Aside from Asher, few people can completely sneak up on me. Brodie and I trained hard so that the possibility of dying carelessly--say by a vampire trying to literally stab me in the back--was nill. It wasn't so much keep one eye open, so much as keep your ears tuned. Only with Asher did I feel completely safe, and I blamed that more on our bond that any sort of true feelings.

Opening an eye, I spy Luci lounging on a chair beside the table. I have a vague recollection of the chair being in the corner from when Asher and I had stumbled in from the pation sometime in the early morning only to collapse in a heap of dirt, blood, and utter exhaustion on the bed.

So not only did Luci sneak up on me, but she'd been here long enough to get the chair, move it, and be completely at ease. If the woman was anything like her husband, she didn't do stealth, which meant I was fucked royally.

It was as if the years of blood, sweat, and rage I'd build up blipped out of existence when Asher showed up. That bond, that fucking bond, it didn't just screw with my emotions, it screwed with my essense, everything that made me me.

"That's a lot of thinking and a lot of different emotions for 'I know and I'm sorry," Luci remarked casually.

A wry smile trists my lips even as worry and fear tug at me. "I know and I'm sorry."

"So how are you going to fix it?"

"I would say money, but I think the currency here is different. And it's not like I have my wallet with me anyway."

"Pfft," she waves the words away. "I was thinking elbow grease."

"Sorry?"

She stood up, the chair scrapping against the floor loudly.

Asher was up in a second, crouching over me protectively, fangs bared at his sister. She didn't seem the least bit concerned, but I was terrified. It took a long moment for him to come down and his eyes to clear, when they did her blinked sleepily at his sister and dropped his head to my breast. "Is there a reason your here

***

Nope, I really could have, I thought as Lucienne's fist came flying at me, hitting me in the stomach and sending me back into a thick, wooden wardrobe. Her face was flushed, eyes flashing red with fangs peeking out from her bottom and top lips. She looked exactly like her brother.

"Explain this to me, because I don't understand it," Lucienne yelled, stalking around the bed to Asher.

The vampire didn't move from his relaxed position, hands folded behind his head, content smile on his lips. "You were tired. I assumed we'd discuss it in the evening."

"Discuss it in the evening?" She moved fast, had a hand wrapped around her brother's throat before I could blink. "This isn't a discussion about tea, Brivet. You just brought fresh meat into my home when you knew there were lions looking for it. This is a haven that you just damned! Do you understand that?"

"I didn't damn it," he rasped, eyes narrowed.

"No? What do you call bringing the President's daughter to my home? A vampire hunter, no less."

"A present."

She squeezed tighter, though I think it was less to it off his airway and more To crack his bones if the krr said anything. Asher never blinked. "I have entertained you many times, Asher. I won't in this. You can endanger yourself, but Not. My. People."

Asher's words were calculated, his expression smug even as she squeezed harder and his bone punctured through the skin and blood trailed down into the sheets. "Vera is one of your people now."

I'd become far too comfortable around vampires, or at least Asher. I knew he wanted to kill me, but he couldn't, so I'd turned down my defenses. I couldn't feel the shift in Lucienne until I was across the room, dangling from her hand around my throat. Asher was there, yanking her back, sending her crashing into the bed. She contorted herself before any damage was done, rolling off the bed in a move reminiscent of cats. "You've bonded to Redkin's daughter. Your stupidity astounds me."

Ha!" she scoffed. "I've never worried about you dying. You have more lives than a cat. But you're not going to lay there and tell me she didn't try."

The memory of me breaking off his bedpost and trying to stab him came back to me, and I winced as I rubbed my stomach. Struggling to my feet, I felt something brush my ankles and looked over my shoulder to see the wardrobe door dangling from its broken hinges, an assortment of clothes peeking out from the inside. I reached for one of Asher's shirts and tugged it over my nakedness.

"I did try to kill him," I interjected, limping over to the bed. My healing seemed to be taking undue time, and now that I thought about it, I was still sore from the previous night. "But that was before I knew everything."

Lucienne turned her frost gaze on me. "Knew everything? Well, Nancy Drew, what do you know? That your father's an asshole who kills for the sake of killing? Common. Knowledge." She turned back to Asher, ignoring me again. "You screwed us royally, Brivet. So you're going to fix it."

The laugh he let out was so chill I felt the temperature drop a few degrees. "When have you ever commanded me, Lucienne?"

The room suddenly felt like it was on the edge of a needle, suspended and waiting. Asher looked appraisingly at his sister while she stared him down, not giving an inch but not taking one either. When Lucienne finally spoke, the words were pushed out and jagged like Asher's hand was wrapped around her throat instead of the other way around, "You seem to be living in a fantasy world where shit comes up daisies. I might not command you brother, but your little succubus sure does. Don't forget, I'm bound too. And I've been bound a lot longer than you have. So I'll leave you with this: clean up your mess or I create a bigger one that's all for you."

Lucienne flashed out of the room, yet she left the message heavy in the air until it settled over us like a blanket. I continued to lean against one of the bed posts as my body finished healing. The vampiress's words left me chilled, with the warm aftereffects of our lovemaking freezing against my skin. This was the world Asher lived in, one with threats first thing in the evening and death as a side dish to every meal.

***

"You look better, Vera," Daphne commented as I walked, arm-in-arm with Luce over to her and Robin. Their room was a less ostentatious version of Asher's, almost an exact mirror. I'd taken hours to climb out of bed after the vampire had drained me and fucked me and did it over all again. Just thinking about it made my skin flush then crawl and finally settle.

I didn't even recognize myself anymore and I sure didn't know whose body I was in.

"I don't feel well," I admitted, burrowing deeper into the sweater I'd filched from Asher's wardrobe. It was a few sizes too big, but made an excellent dress.

Robin cast me a glance but said nothing. I wanted to tell her she was right, that Asher was all at once the worst and the best choice I never knew I'd made. But what would that do? Nothing could be changed.

"What happened?" Daphne asked softly, brushing strands of hair behind her ear. The succubus cleaned up nicely, hair washed and combed with just a touch of makeup on her face. The clothes weren't hers; the jeans a little loose around her hips, the top too tight around her bust. Still, the outfit would be something she'd wear, pastels that moved like water over her skin, with jeans white and bright. Robin was dressed similarly in clothes that weren't hers but a style that I could easily see her in. While neither demon looked particularly comfortable, the edge of panic and fear I'd seen in their expressions the night before had waned.

"I found out what's under the iceberg," I mumbled on a laugh.

Robin stood up suddenly and rushed to me, ripping the sweater to the side and exposing my neck before I could stop her. Her eyes widened at the still healing wound, clotted with blood. "Why--Who--What the hell happened?" she sputtered as I tugged the sweater back into place and burrowed deeper into the chair, my clothes, myself. "Vera, did that half-breed do this to you?"

I said nothing.

"Fuck," Robin breathed as Daphne pushed her aside and moved my arms to fuss over the wound. She said something about getting help and ran into the compound, leaving me with Robin.

"Why are you with him?" She shook her head. "I don't understand it."

"I remembered your father, Robin," I said instead, looking out into the forest bordering the back of the property. It practically glowed from the light of the moon, humming with an unnatural cadence. "My father made me watch too, I just couldn't remember. He put my mother and me behind a curtain. I remember peeking through it and seeing you and hearing him."

Her eyed widened and she took a step back from me. "No."

"He cried out for you, for it to stop. My mother cried and sang to me. I think the song made me forget. But do you know what I felt, watching my father kill yours?"

"Vera, don't."

"Nothing," I laughed as I heard footsteps and voices flood into the room and spill out onto the balcony. "I'm not who you think I am, Robin."

She stepped toward me, dropping to her knees in front of me. Her hands shook as they landed on my thigh. "You're exactly who I think you are. My friend. So, you're a little fucked up, everyone is."

But her words came in a fog, thick and disjointed. I could feel the footsteps now, like thunder under me, but the voices were so far, the night so black. My body felt light, so light. And cool too. Fingertips pushed into my skin like ice, except--hiss--in that spot. That was fire, pain, pain, and more pain.

"... wrong with her?" Robin asked.

"Asher... son of a bitch... witch? It's a potion..." a female answered, maybe Lucienne.

Something pressed into the fire, hard, painful. Motherfucker that hurts. I screamed from it, howled in agony. It broke. I broke. My mind split wide open, and memories stampeded back in a hoard, trampling over each other. I remembered it all. Every joy and pain I never knew had been taken away from me. My mother was crystal clear in my mind, always there for me. Always.

Suddenly, I was sucked under, driven into the first memory I was robbed of. A bright sun is overhead of a gray landscape, warming me. I'm laughing, playing with schoolmates after our history lesson on the cleansing of vampires. They're bad demons that my father is trying to stop, and someday I'm going to help him.

I dance, arms swinging, legs knocking into each other. Three girls surrounded me, but there faces blend together. I can never tell the sprite triplets apart. One of the girls begins to sing as we dance in dizzying circles, kicking up dust in our wake. Others join in a cacophony of missed pitches and too high giggles. My lips part and I draw breath in, exhale a song that carries notes I didn't know I was capable of.

My eyes drift closed as the melody flows in words that aren't Balinese but instinctive. I like it. Somewhere in the distance I hear shouting, maybe, but it's drowned out in my song. The world is drowned by me, pulled down by my melody.

"Vera!"

I stop, my mother's biting tone cutting off my voice. "Mommy?" What did I do? She never uses that tone unless I've done something bad.

She looks at me and it's quiet, silence. My eyes take in her pursed lips, paler complexion, the fear clenching her muscles and turning her brown eyes black. All at once my mother snaps into action. She scoops me up, cradling me. But I'm not a baby, I'm ten now.

It's still quiet, too quiet I realize. My legs kick, arms winding and pushing. She won't let me go, but I slip out anyway, falling to the ground. It's not hard though, it's soft and warm and sticky. There's a smell too, and I lift my eyes to figure out why. Why it's sticky and why it's quiet and why it smells.

The park is red, coated in the blood and body parts of my playmates. "Don't look," my mother begs, reaching for me. Don't look at what you've done.

"What happened?" Tanya explodes as she reaches my mother's side. "Oh my goddess. Did she--are they--?"

"Tanya!" I cry, scurrying to her and tugging at her skirts. She's a witch, she can cast a spell to fix it. Fix me.

My mother's voice shakes, the only part of her that moves. "Bring what you need for a sealing spell."

The witch collapses to her knees as I continue to cry into her skirt, begging, pleading, apologizing for something I desperately wanted to believe I didn't do. Because I was a good girl. Because blood meant pain and pain was bad. "I can't fix this."

No.

"Tanya," my mother begins.

"I know. I know. Just--let me grieve."

My mother bends down to me and pulls me closer, but I don't want her love right now. There's blood on my hands, bodies around us. Oh god. I throw up in her lap. "Vera look at me," she says when I begin to dry heave.

I force myself to meet her gaze, but I don't see anger in her eyes. I see worry, fear, and resignation. Beyond her I catch another glimpse of my class and lose it. My mother closes her arms tight around me and begins to rock. She tucks my head under her chin and sings, and I realize it's the same. We're the same. My mother is a muse, one of tragedy; I'm her daughter.