Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
LAITHOG
Muffled curses escape me as I watch Paisley’s golden eyes roll and her body go limp.
I quickly, yet gently, reach forward and catch her delicate little body. She has been through enough, and my matriarch raised me better than to let a female fall after she swoons. My purple skin and black scales are a stark contrast to her pale, freckled laden skin that is not covered in bruising, that is. I do not like that her wounds mimic the color of my hide.
“ Now , what in the blazes do I do?” I ask, my voice rife with exasperation. “ I don’t know where you live, don’t know where I am, or even what time it is. Let alone the fact that I have not eaten or drank in centuries. As delectable as I am sure that you taste, I sincerely doubt you would permit me that liberty. Furthermore , I do not trust my self-control right now either,” I finish with no small amount of self-recrimination.
I pause in the process of scooping my female up, removing her from the hard bench as I realize I’m talking to myself, somewhat like a being that has lost his mind. Scoffing , I ease myself down onto the bench where Paisley has spent so much of her time, careful not to jostle her maltreated body. Hissing at how uncomfortably cold the bench is the moment my rear touches it, I surge back up.
With a quick glance down at the precious bundle in my arms, I ensure that my actions haven’t caused her any undue pain. Her face remains smooth, nary a frown to be seen. Standing there frowning at a bench in the middle of a cemetery is not my finest moment, I must admit.
My ass is not touching that frigid bench.
I refuse.
With my hands full of soft female, I use my tail to smooth the back of my kilt close to my thighs as I re-descend, gingerly easing myself down, ensuring the fabric is between my flesh and the mercilessly chilled bench. I am shocked that she has sat here repetitiously without complaint. I have known warriors with less fortitude than she.
The sensation of holding someone after so many years of being stone is something I never thought I would ever again have for myself. It is entirely wanted at this point. I have spent so much time listening to this woman pour out her heart that being able to touch her is ambrosial.
Methodically , I scan the surrounding area with every sense available to me. My body is finally acclimated to being flesh, with all the consequences that come with having a fleshly body. Sight , scent, sound, and taste could be a blessing and a curse, dependent upon how one looked at it.
A faint heartbeat at the edge of the cemetery catches my attention as my stomach cramps with hunger. The rhythm of the heartbeat tells me it is a human. It has been so long since I have had blood that being around Paisley without finding someone to drink is foolhardy. My species is not one that is permitted to lose control. The results of such a happenstance are… deadly.
But … the feel of her in my arms is not something I want to give up, either. Nor do I want to leave her lying here defenseless when, obviously, someone is lurking about.
I take a moment to assess my physical body, trying to ascertain if I have enough energy to glamour myself long enough to reach the whomever it is intruding on my time with my female.
Reaching deep within myself to where my magick dwells, I prod it and roll my eyes when it ignores me. I really should not be surprised; I have done nothing to nurture it for some time. Magick is dependent upon my kind drinking regularly.
No blood, no magick.
Snarling under my breath, I prod my magick again and am delighted when it finally responds to my call, and I watch my body, as well as Paisley’s , fade. The magick is doing its job to obscure us from sight.
“ If you will last just long enough for me to reach the foolish human across the cemetery, I will be able to feed and replenish part of my energy levels,” I grumble, ignoring the fact that I am speaking to my magick as if it is a sentient being.
Apparently , I have been alone far too long and have lost what little mind I have to begin with. Ilayahan is probably laughing her ass off at me right now, watching me from the afterlife. Assuring myself that my glamour is in place and that Paisley is just as fully covered as I am, I stand on silent feet and stalk towards my evening meal.
My attention fully on the mortal I am hunting, I miss the whispering caress along my jaw. A caress that I had begged, pleaded, and wished to feel for many centuries.