Chapter 57 Susenyos
SUSENYOS
I have something to tell you,” Kidan said, standing before Iniko in the living room.
Samson had left Uxlay yet again and it gave Susenyos an hour or so to discuss and stretch his legs. Kidan’s news must be big if she’d invited his friends as well. He rubbed his wrist where the chain had been, trying not to think about the cells of Lusidio’s camp.
“Where’s Taj?” he asked.
“He’s in a mood,” Iniko said, catching his eye. Susenyos suspected this was because June had disappeared from Uxlay without a word. Taj played a long game and always won over the people Susenyos assigned him to target. He’d never failed. Except maybe with June.
He turned his attention to Kidan. “What do you want to tell us?”
“Samson is still working with Lusidio,” she said, her expression wary.
Silence filled the space.
Iniko tightened her fist. “It makes sense now why none of the Lusidios have attacked the Nefrasi since.”
“You must have misunderstood,” Susenyos said. “Samson hates Lusidio just as much, if not more than I do. Lusidio killed so many of our…” He shook his head, fog filling his mind.
Susenyos would never forget the devastation wreaked on his people when they’d been captured.
His lovers losing hope, slowly and painfully as the sun shutting its eye, his warriors on their knees, powerless against the horde of Lusidios, his strategists defeated entirely in their planning, blaming themselves—he couldn’t bear to see them like that again.
And if what Kidan was telling him was true, then it was all an illusion.
“They think they’re free.” Susenyos paced, staring at the bloodstain on the carpet. “They think he saved them.”
“He must have struck the deal alone,” Iniko said, and he didn’t miss how her tone cleaved. “Arin would never work with Lusidio. Not after what he did to her girls.”
Susenyos winced at the memory. Arin’s girls. Six gifted girls she personally selected to train under her, fashioned into incredible warriors. Lusidio had horrifically murdered five of them. Iniko, the sixth, was the only one who survived.
Iniko touched her large flowered collar where the three marks scarred her throat. Her eyes were brimstone and fire.
“This is it,” Susenyos said slowly. “This is what we use to turn the Nefrasi to our side. We will expose that Samson is working with Lusidio.”
Iniko nodded, her burning determination matching his.
“There’s one more thing. The blade artifact…” Kidan cleared her throat. “He said he buried the blades with her.”
Susenyos’s eyes widened. “He really told you that?”
She nodded.
He could kiss her right now.
“Iniko,” he said instead.
They all knew where Talaa was buried.
“On it.”
Iniko moved to the door. Susenyos was still trying wrap his mind around the two valuable pieces of information.
She was delivering on her promise. Getting him everything he wanted.
Truly, he was lucky to have Kidan on his side.
When she turned that dangerous mind toward an enemy, he wanted to stand beside her, not against her.
Never again.
Spots of blood lingered on her wrist and he held his breath out of habit, like he used to when her presence overwhelmed him.
Kidan blinked at him now, noticing his stillness, unmoving chest.
“Are you all right?”
Susenyos released his breath delicately, half waiting for his fangs to emerge, but they didn’t. His brows drew together. For the first time, he was almost relieved to have lost something of vampirism.
He studied her punctured wrist, the bubble of red blood glistening, with fascination.
“It’s strange,” he confessed, eyes creasing, “to see you bleed this close to me without feeling hunger.”
She observed him from under thick lashes for a long time, and his pulse quickened. Another odd little thing his human body did.
“Are you saying there are some advantages to being a lowly human like me?” Her lips lifted at one corner, breaking the tension.
He almost smiled. “I’d rather die than admit such a thing.”
A soft laugh lit her face, making his ears perk up. Things that shouldn’t make his heart race did. The world was upside down in this house, and he felt ironically stuck in time. Back to the boy he was in his castle, new and learning everything for the first time.
Kidan went to the liquor cabinet, grabbed a bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip, making a face.
“I can’t wait until this is all over. Do you want some?
” she said, wiping the drops that were trickling down her chin.
A wild, disturbing urge to lick it seized him.
For a moment, Susenyos thought his vampire side had awakened, but this wasn’t mind-consuming hunger.
He was simply curious about how different she’d taste.
Kidan slid him a glance, blushed, and darted her eyes away.
“What?” he asked.
“Your eyes,” she said, playing with the bottle. “I could never read them before but now I can. And the room smells like the Bath of Arowa.”
He noticed it then, the sweet mist crowding them like a circle of clouds. “Oh.”
Her small laugh made his ears burn. A feeling he’d never had before. Or perhaps he had, when he was human, and had forgotten.
“I hate this.” He truly meant it.
Kidan’s brown face was glowing. “Now you know how I felt last time you sensed my… thoughts.”
“It’s not that you can sense it that’s bothering me,” he said slowly, trying to explain the complexities of what his mind was going through. “It’s feeling… embarrassed.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m never embarrassed.”
“I’ve noticed. Even when you really, really should be.”
“Even when I should be,” he said seriously.
She grinned and the full force of it nearly made him blink. “Well, that’s what being human is. Being self-conscious. It sucks.”
His mouth soured at the word. He’d never realized those emotions—embarrassment, insecurity, shyness—had all been taken away when he’d become immortal. It only made him want to break the house law even more.
Kidan regarded him seriously. “You can’t tell me to embrace my darkness when you hate your humanity, you know. It doesn’t work like that. You can’t love only half of yourself.”
It took him by surprise. The words reached a part of Susenyos he’d tried to destroy, flooding him with unexpected warmth.
Yet it was painful, like a gift he didn’t deserve, hadn’t earned.
The thought made him frown, peer into himself.
He expected his human self to prove his worth, to earn simple acts of kindness but placed no such pressure on his immortal self.
How cruel, he thought. How cruel to set himself up for failure like this.
He used to pity humans who fell into the same trap but here he was, caught.
Irritation grated on him in slow, condescending circles. He wished he could table these emotions to be dealt with at an appropriate time. Being human was inconvenience itself, the sum of pathetic ruminations and self-doubt.
And he told her so.
Surprisingly, Kidan’s lips quirked a little.
“You’re smiling?” he said.
Her tone was a soft murmur. “I just realized I like being inconvenienced by you. I can’t say that about a lot of people.”
His mouth parted, then shut, his dark brown eyes glinting. “Careful, that might be a love confession to rival the greats.”
Susenyos’s eyes roamed her brown face, trying to find hesitation. He could sense no trace of a lie. When had it happened? When had she considered him worthy of her time and attention?
“I hate that you know this part of me exists at all.” He sighed, took the liquor, and swallowed the burning alcohol. “What use am I to you like this?”
Kidan’s brows creased. Her eyes were an expanse of dark desert with a fire burning in the middle.
She traced her wrist. “Remember my bracelet? I think of that night a lot. Us on the tower… me wanting to let go.”
He said nothing, his blood cold with the memory.
“You wanted me to live. You kept saving me before I even knew I was drowning.” She touched her wrist again, the faint imprint of her bracelet still there.
Her honesty kept surprising him and he wanted more of it, to get as close as possible to the heart she shielded.
“Now, when I touch here, all I remember is your voice. Asking me why I should exist.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Kidan…”
“No, it’s okay.” She shook her long braids. “It’s a good question. And do you remember what I said?”
The lines in his forehead eased a little. “You want to live, so you will. It is your life to do so as you please.”
She smiled again, broadly this time. “Then want, Yos. Exist without a reason, without being of use. Exist however you were made, human or vampire.”
The incredible hue of a golden sunset drowned out the room. Her pupils widened, taking in the manifestation of joy crowding them.
A traitorous hope spread in his body. Could she truly want him like this?
Susenyos smiled and reached for his worn book, removed the pen tucked into it, flipped to page 27, line 4. Matir’s line.
I crave her like a sickness, knowing she would heal every part of me. She hunts all the weakness I possess. So I clean her face of blood and carry her to bed. She may murder me, yet I fear I will still savor her hands upon me.
He underlined the quote and scratched a note in.
“What are you marking?” she asked, studying the page.
Susenyos snapped the book shut. “Nothing.”
“Wait. Go back to that page. I think I saw something.”
“Yes, my intimate, secret thoughts. You’ll have to try harder than that.”
A line appeared between her delightful brows when he hid the book behind him. “You’ve read that book a thousand times,” she said.
Susenyos reached out with his thumb, smoothing the furrow on her skin.
She stilled and too late, he realized he was doing it again.
Touching her as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do.
He let himself linger, enjoy the reactions of her face.
He wished he could hear her heartbeat. Know if it was racing as much as his human heart was.
“That’s because I find something new each time,” he said, his voice growing rough. “It feels written to me in a way other books aren’t. Guides me, I suppose.”
“I never asked you. When did you first read it?”
“I was nineteen. Found it in the woods the day I almost died.”
“In the woods?”
“Yes, I like to think a goddess left it to me.”
Kidan raised a skeptical brow, then pursed her lips. “Fine, don’t tell me.”
He smiled. She thought he was lying. Reaching for her hand, Susenyos placed it on his cheek, shutting his eyes at the hesitant and then soft caress.
The scent of eucalyptus and rose oil swept over him, her desire matching his so perfectly, he was afraid to kiss her. Like bringing two twitching electric wires together.
She appeared frightened too, aware of how much control they had over one another, their connection had never been this intense, this intimate.
He leaned his head in, heart seizing. The sound of war drums echoed through the mist. Fear and desire circled each other in a dance.
“Fitting,” he murmured. “I feel like I’m about to die.”
Kidan let out a breath in agreement.
They were more nervous than ever. Susenyos licked over her lips, oh so softly, and felt every bone in him groan in delight. Kidan parted her mouth slightly and he slipped his tongue in, only a little, touching hers. A thousand jolts shot to his lower abdomen.
He gripped her bottom lip between his teeth, making her gasp. Susenyos applied firm pressure, turning her surprise into a low moan, and testing the soft skin, enjoying his lack of fangs. He didn’t need to be careful with her. Not anymore.
“I can bite you without losing control,” Susenyos said after letting go, as if he’d just come to the realization.
The light imprint he left on her swollen lip faded with each second.
Kidan’s hazed eyes shone, words sharp yet breath fluttering. “Or, you could not bite me at all.”
A pleased shine took to his pupils. Impatient, she inclined her chin so their lips brushed. A deep, hidden part of him sighed in relief.
Finally.
Kidan’s arms found their way around his broad shoulders and crossed behind his neck. His arm slipped around her waist and pulled her to her tippy-toes, pressing her chest firmly against his solid build.
When he still did nothing, she nudged him forward. “Come on, I won’t die if you kiss me.”
How brave of her.
“I might,” he said.
When she grinned, Susenyos crushed his mouth to hers with a hunger no monster could echo. He possessed her lips and parted them with such urgency, he felt drugged. It was a heady experience, and nothing could ever make this moment more alive.
They gasped free at the same time, too quickly. Their eyes met. Both wide. As if they’d both suspected it’d be good but never this good.
He hoisted her up, and her legs wrapped around his torso.
From the corner of his vision, the bulb flickered and exploded with a thrum of raw electricity.
Her fingers were working to remove his jacket and throw it aside.
It was remarkable she could do anything at all because he was quickly becoming useless.
His mouth was drunk with fire, and they’d made it to the bottom of the stairs but the bedrooms were still unbearably far.
“Remember,” he said, breath thick in desire, “when I said I’d want you in my bed?”
All he could hear was how deeply she breathed, her whole body ebbing and flowing. There was no air between them.
Her eyes simmered. “The day I stopped judging you.”
Susenyos wanted her to understand this was no game. This was real, different from their previous encounters.
“There’s none,” he whispered, staring deep into her open eyes.
She didn’t see him as a monster or some evil to vanquish.
A human to discard or a power to seize. A tender understanding settled between them, that neither was better than the other.
They were flawed, and impulsive and riddled with mistakes but there would be no judgment.
He kissed her until he couldn’t breathe. And then some more.