The Cat and the Bird Cross A Line
DELILAH
~ P lease come home soon, love. I n-need you. ~
My head lifts, staring off into space as I feel him calling for me.
His voice is morose and I sense the heaviness of his heart. Concentrating for a brief second, I get the picture of him sitting, fresh from the shower, draped over an armchair and staring out the bay window. It hits me that he might think I’m not coming home.
Fuck. That was not my intention.
I kick the last leg, doing a breather sweep to ensure that what happened here will not lead to me—at least, not at first. I suppose the Company will figure it out eventually, but an unsolved massacre in the woods in rural America won’t scream ‘agent’. It’s more likely to invoke a serial killer than anything.
Sighing, I apparate myself directly into our closet,. My stomach gurgles and I rub it, hanging up my duster. Pulling my hair back with the hair tie from my pocket, I ponder a shower. I’m filthy, covered in stickiness and underbrush.
Deciding I’m too tired for that, I grab a wet towel from the hamper and scrub the crud off my face and body. My clothes go flying into the hamper—write-offs unless Hex can work his own brand of magick—then I pull on one of his shirts, so exhausted I can’t even contemplate buttoning it.
Once I’m clean, I pad out to where he’s sitting, lowering myself to the floor at his feet with a grunt. My muscles are sore from the hunt, so I drop my head into his lap. Speaking into his mind, I sigh again. ~I heard you. ~
His fingers rub over my jaw and I feel his heart touch mine. He begins without preamble, his tone soft. ~I love you. I’m sorry. I was wrong. ~
He was—again—and I know it. I’m too tired to get angry right now. I want this horseshit to be over.
~ I freaked out, too. You’re back; I’m back. ~
I mumble, burying my face in his tummy, sinking back into our connection.
~I didn’t leave. I went into the other room to beat the hell out of the bag. We, uh, need a fresh bag. ~
I chuckle, groaning as it makes my chest muscles pull. ~Don’t worry. My clothes are shot. Good thing I left the coat in a safe spot. ~
Leaning down, he sniffs me and I feel the frown even though I don’t look up. “You killed?”
One shoulder lifts and falls. “I was hungry and in a foul mood.”
He doesn’t question my glib response, though I know he asked because I didn’t used to kill unless they left me no choice. The more connected my Beast is inside, the less concerned I am about human ethics—food is food. The line between eating a cow and, well, eating a cow has become completely blurred. I’m learning how to hunt, and since the changes in my biochemistry are ongoing, I’ve had to learn to save the rip and tear for emotional outlet rather than daily feeding. What I did tonight is far more significant than either of those descriptions does justice to.
Rural massacre fits. He’s going to wish he’d been there.
Tilting his head, he strokes my jaw. “What’s wrong? You feel uncomfortable.”
“I ate too fast and made a mess. I’m sore and I have a bit of indigestion. I shouldn’t have played with my food.”
He arches a brow and grins. “Lucky it wasn’t Thai, or you’d be a real mess. Come here, baby.” Holding his hands out, he reaches for me.
“Mexican,” I grumble, making a face. “It might have been worse.” Scrambling onto his lap, I curl around him. His hands rub over my tummy and he rests his head on my shoulder. I comb my fingers through his hair, purring softly as we nuzzle.
Suddenly, the doors slam shut, the air thickening as the cracks seal even more than before. ~No one. No one gets in. Not here. Not even primaries tonight. ~
His hand smooths over my stomach and his arm tightens around me, stroking my spine.
Smiling, I lean my head on his, agreeing. I close my eyes, looking inside myself to seal the doors and gateways as much as possible without severing the cords forever. They may bang on the doors, but I think with the energy I got from feeding tonight, I can keep them shut for at least a couple of hours without a slip.
I feel him calming by degrees, his lips brushing my forehead as he sinks into our connection. Letting the peace wash over me, I hold him and let the connection hum through us. The turmoil inside me wanes and my soul settles down. His thumb traces my eyebrows, down my nose and across my cheekbones, humming a soft tune in my ear.
~I love you so very much. I was so scared. ~
I blink, the scent of tears making me realize that he’s crying. Taurus never cries. I mean, everyone does, but I’ve not seen him this unglued yet. ~Scared? Why? ~
Brushing my knuckle under his eyes to catch them, I caress his cheekbones.
~When you left. I read the note and didn’t think you were coming back. I didn’t leave the house. I didn’t know what to do. ~
Clucking my tongue, I shake my head. ~No, no, no. I would never leave a note to end a relationship and I would never leave for good over something that trivial. I don’t know if I even can leave you now. It felt like I was being punched in the gut just to leave the house. It’s gotta be something big before this reed breaks, baby. ~
He doesn’t know the level of inappropriate and painful things that people do to me, and I don’t leave them. I always think I can fix the problem. It’s a curse, I know, and part of why I haven’t disentangled myself from Sari and Wilde yet. But why was I able to cut it off with Rhea and Alistair then?
I don’t have time to ponder that oddity—though it bears much more consideration at another time—because he lets out a tremendous sigh of relief.
“Okay. Good. Because I wanted to do bad things to innocent people when you weren’t here. It wasn’t good. In fact, I’d like to lodge a formal request that you never leave me—ever.”
“Good thing I was out doing bad things to innocent people for you, huh?” I stroke his face, smiling. “I think you’ve infected me.”
He grins wickedly. “Christ, I hope so. I’ve been trying hard enough.”
“Maybe I was feeling some of your rage, too.” That is very possible. This is the only connection that I haven’t figured out how to seal off yet.
His face drops, and he gapes, sputtering. “Oh, Christ, I didn’t even think of that. Talia was unprepared and got hit with a wave. She went ape shit.”
I shrug. “Guess it could get attributed to a random serial killer or. Or the mob, maybe, or a cartel.”
“Huh?”
“A sizable group of people in the woods... Splat.” I sigh. “If they hadn’t run, I wouldn’t have been so pissed. I might have killed them. Maybe.”
Snickering, his eyes dance with wicked glee. “Have I told you that I love you, baby?”
“Yep,” I grin, “but you can tell me as much as your weak heart desires.” I peck his temple, my heart swelling with fondness.
~Love the killer kitty in you, baby. ~
His nose rubs against my skin as he nuzzles the mark on my neck.
Head tilted, my response is low and throaty. “I love the demon in you.”
“I wish I’d been there—killing, feeding, the blood of the innocents and all.”
Whispering, I correct him. “You’re always with me—all the time and everywhere.”
“I know, isn’t it neat?” His expression is boyish for a moment, then it grows wistful. “Here, though, I meant in a more bloody and physical way.”
“Yeah, but you would have leaned against a tree and watched me get pissed, running about. You’d be no help at all.”
“Bloody right, I would,” he growls. “More running equals more jiggle for the step.”
His priorities make me giggle and my eyes dance. “I see you leaning against a tree smoking and ogling me as I run around all smeared in blood and gore. You lech.”
I can tell he’s imagining it as his eyes swirl and the growl that rumbles out of his chest. “Hell, yeah, love.”
My arms tighten around him, grinning with mischief. “You’d get all worked up and end up doing it.”
He rumbles, grinding his hips against mine. “Christ, baby.”
Images fly through my head at light speed, followed by sensory impressions that rock my entire body. I groan, digging my fingers into his shoulders, barely able to hold on. Holy fuck. When did he learn to do that ?
I feel the Beast rising, lumbering to the surface. “Fucking hell.”
His grin is pure evil, and it makes me shiver as he growls. “Welcome to the life of a killer, baby.”
Rubbing my cheek on his with an answering rumble, I rasp, “We should do that.”
“Now?” His expression is indulgent, like he’s agreeing to go to a tea party with the Queen rather than hunting people to a bloody death.
“No, but sometime soon. I’m way too comfy here right now.”
He snarls at me with his fangs bared to provoke Her. My fangs drop in response and he yanks me onto his lap to straddle him. Hands scrabbling, he separates the shirt and squeezes my breasts hard. My thighs spread to hug his hips and red lines spring up on his chest as my nails rake. I hiss as his fingers and palms grope. His hips grind against mine and he lowers his voice to a rough, gravelly tone. “Yes—rough baby. Show me.”
Images slip into my mind and I feel him courting the Beast, drawing Her out. Without warning, I swoop down, tearing into his shoulder as my claws rip into his hips to hold on. He roars and we join roughly. His arms band around me and hold, holding me close enough to sink his fangs deep into my breast.
~Yeah, baby. Mark me up; I’m yours—your killer kitty. ~
I whisper into his mind as I slide the sharp claw tips down his back.
His nails are blunt, but they dig in deep, gripping my waist as he meets my thrusts with his own. Ripping his fangs out of the curve, he strikes again, letting the blood flow. Stars explode behind my eyes as the pleasure rockets through me and my blood mixes with the trickles of his from the bite on his shoulder. I keep rocking on him, eyes swirling with green and gold as I moan low and dark. Leaning down, I scrape the four points across his other shoulder from neck to bicep, watching the droplets well up.
“That’s it, baby, slice me, bleed me like the demon kitty you are,” he mumbles, doing the same to me from the shoulder to elbow. His eyes flash as he throbs inside me, almost high on the scent of the blood. ~Fuck, you’re good at this. ~
The throaty chortle that echoes makes him growl and I bend in an impossibly fluid manner to rake my incisors over the peacock’s neck, then his chest. ~Only for you, baby. ~
His eyes roll back and he grits his teeth, shuddering hard.
I feel him steeling against the end. My tail drops in response, stroking over his slick skin as I yowl, teetering on the edge. ~Fuck baby. Going to—soon. ~
The bottlebrush tip of his tail flicks out, wrapping around mine and tugging as he stiffens from head to toe. “Fuck! It’s going to happen… now !” He jerks my head back, tearing into my throat as he explodes, roaring into my mind.
My screech echoes his and I bury my fangs into him, suckling, jaw working to get a better flow. Release flows over me like a crashing wave and it knocks me out. We’re both drinking greedily, blood loss heady and dizzying. Connected down to our cores, the primal fades, and our tails chase, playing and stroking over the hurts.
Sighing as we whisper back and forth mentally, my hands weave into his hair, holding him in place as we feast. I feel how close to the danger zone we’re getting, and I lap at the wound. He takes notice of my caution and I sense him pondering going over the line before he whispers. ~Can’t we do it—once? It probably won’t kill us. ~
~What would it do? ~
I whisper, a war between curiosity, excitement, and concern starting within me.
A few seconds go by as he considers, leaving me to float in a sea of sultry sensations. ~Well, it might kill us. We’d drop out of consciousness for a bit. We’d have drunk more than anyone else I know ever has—and lived through it. Since we’re mated, I’m not sure what it’d do. I’ve fed more from you than I ever have before. Sometimes even that’s not enough.~
His lips turn down and he stops to think. ~I don’t know. The baby tosses the mix a bit. We should be on a bed if we try. ~
He nuzzles as he suckles, still drawing on the wound.
Purrs rumble out of my chest and my tail tugs his, my voice tremulous as I respond. ~Can you get us there? I’ll try to help you. ~
He nods and my magick opens for him, letting him access it to help apparate us to the bed. In a blink, we’re on the satin comforter, staining it as we suckle and bleed from various wounds. Groaning, I slide a hip on his, pressing close. ~Feel you. Taste you. Want you. ~
~You sure? ~ he croaks. ~It’s supposed to be utopian, but I’m no t s ure I’ll stop bleeding when we pass. You will, but I’m not sure about me. ~
~You will. My blood’s in yours more than anyone else. You can do it. Since the night I healed you, you’ve got the power. ~
~I should have thought of that, but I’m so lightheaded. I have never hungered like this before… ~
~I know; I can’t ever get enough. I crave you. ~
~It feels hot… tight… colorful. ~
The sensations flow from him to me and my head swims. I suckle more, eyes slipping closed and everything hazy inside. ~Sweet... warm… soft… ~
Our breathing gets shallower, tasting and floating in a place with no pain, only peaceful softness. Limbs turn to water and our bodies seem to connect deeper than ever before as we whisper endearments. Passing warning level after warning level, instinct takes us further and further as spots dance in front of my eyes. My consciousness seems to shimmer like the air of the desert in the day’s heat. Our hearts flutter. Like a dying waltz, they echo slowing beats until they stop.
After that, there’s nothing except two bodies entwined and a glimmer of hope that our strength would save us both.
A spark of light and energy dances inside them, untouchable by their actions, and it reacts instinctively to strengthen them. The light kick-starts smaller things first, healing superficial wounds and pulling the feral faces back. The cuts seal, stopping the blood flow. A small, magickal push engulfs them in a warm glow, the baby inside guiding them gently first to life and then to reawakening.