Chapter 5
chapter
five
Atticus
I refuse to touch my cock after leaving Vivian alone downstairs. I press my palm against my zipper, willing my nearly full hard-on to go away. I don’t understand what’s happening, and until I do, I’m not indulging in any releases.
Something strange occurred recently to a friend of mine and while he’s not a zombie, he has his own monstrous issues to deal with. So I decide to give him a call.
“Silas? You got a minute?” I ask when he answers.
“Uh, sure, Atticus. You don’t normally call. Everything okay?”
“I’m not sure. Something is different, changing. I can feel it. I know that after you met Juniper, you experienced some differences with her.”
“Yes,” Silas says, his voice unsure. “Why don’t you explain your situation.”
“I met a woman in the woods. I scented her first and it was the best thing I’d ever smelled. But then she screamed and by the time I got there, one of the ferals was attacking her.”
I take a deep breath because the same sensations are coursing through me right now, that boiling of rage that pumped my blood full of adrenaline.
Rage? Adrenaline?
These aren’t things I feel. I’ve felt nothing for two decades. Nothing. There’s a vague emptiness that tells me when I need to eat. A lethargy when I need to sleep. But that’s it. No hunger. No exhaustion. No amusement. Certainly none of the big emotions. Nothing even close to rage.
Until now. Until her.
“It’s been a while for me, but I’m almost positive what I felt was anger.” I struggle to find the words to describe what I felt. And that I felt anything at all. “I wanted to rip off that fucking moth’s wings.”
Silas chuckles. “That’s pretty violent coming from you, our normally mild-mannered zombie. Plus, I knew you before we all changed and you never had much of a temper. With people, that is. I have seen you throw a computer on more than one occasion.”
My lips twitch for what I think is the second time today. Humor? Am I amused? Angry, aroused and amused. And, evidently alliterative. I roll my eyes at myself.
“Tell me more about the woman,” Silas says.
“I want her,” I say, my voice raw. “It’s a hunger like I haven’t experienced since the beginning.
It’s different though. It’s not that kind of hunger.
I don’t want to consume her brains, I just …
” Again, words fail me. I just … what? I just want.
I can’t describe it. It’s like I want to absorb her through my skin.
To make her part of me. “I brought her to my house though, because I know that fucking moth probably won’t give up that easily now that he’s caught her scent. ”
“Interesting.”
“I don’t want to hurt her.”
“If that was your instinct, you would have done it already,” Silas says, his voice full of certainty. “Has it occurred to you that maybe you’re just into her? Like, dude, when was the last time you were with a woman?”
“Don’t be an asshole. You know the answer to that question. That part of my life is over now.”
“I thought so, too. But look at me now. So maybe your interest in her isn’t zombie hunger, but lust.”
“Yeah. Fuck off. That’s not any better. Because it’s not like I can act on that. Ever.” The thought of burying myself inside of Vivian’s lush body makes me hard as a fucking stone.
“Why don’t you just try it?”
“Because I could kill her, Silas. You of all people should know that.”
“Give her a weapon to protect herself. If things go sideways, she can end you.”
I’m quiet for a minute while I think on his suggestion. It’s not a bad one. I mean it’s still crazy because that’s even assuming that a gorgeous woman like her would want a pale, pasty monsterfucker like me.
“You’re considering it,” Silas says.
“I don’t even know if she wants me.”
“You know the only way you’ll find out if she’s attracted to you is if you ask her, right?”
“I am not asking her that.”
He laughs. “Stop being a fucking pussy, Atticus. Go find yourself some happiness. Don’t you think you’ve endured enough loneliness for six lifetimes?”
We hang up shortly after that and I pace for a while, restless and uncertain what to do. I desperately want Vivian, but if I hurt her, that would mean the absolute end of whatever humanity I have left. I couldn’t bear it.
I leave my detached workshop, that used to be assistant’s quarters when I had one I allowed to see me. I converted it after the first couple of years so that I could leave the house some and still feel like I had a job to go to. Silly, when you think about it.
As I jog up the old stone steps that are partially covered with moss I hear that fucking moth’s scream before I realize where he is. Climbing on the spire that tops one of several turrets on my house.
“Goddammit!” I take off at a full run. “Get off my fucking roof!”
The mothman turns and screeches at me, flapping it’s brownish-grey wings that somehow look like they’re made of wool. There is nothing human left in this creature and I wonder if I knew this man before the change. Were we friends, acquaintances?
“You can’t have that woman!” I yell as I continue to run towards him.
“Mate,” he screeches back at me, then launches off my roof.
He lands on the ground not too far from me. And I’m ready, so fucking ready for this fight. I don’t have built in weapons like some of the others in town. My teeth aren’t like razors. I don’t have claws instead of fingernails. I’m just a man who looks different and now consumes animal brains.
“Atticus!” Vivian yells, then she’s running down the slope of my yard towards me, towards the mothman. She’s carrying something in her hand. A can or bottle of cleaner, maybe?
“Vivian, go back inside,” I say.
“Mate!” the mothman squawks and turns to face her.
“The fuck she is!” I yell.
Then Vivian is spraying something directly into the mothman’s face. It squeals and screeches and then flies straight up into the sky. I grab her hand and together we run inside my house.
“Vivian,” I breathe. “What were you thinking?”
She turns her wide icy blue eyes to me. “I could hear him scratching and screaming up there. Then I heard you yelling. I went out to protect you.”
I hold up her hand and see the can of industrial bug spray that I had forgotten all about. She must have found it under one of the sinks. I release a chuffing sound.
“You’re brave and amazing,” I say.
“Well, you can’t do all the rescuing,” she says. “Why is he still here?”
“I told you, he thinks you’re his mate.”
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t really work for me,” she says, her voice rising with a nervous giggle. “How do we get him to not think that.” She frowns. “Do I have to leave town? I just got here.”
I consider the question. Selfishly, I don’t want her to leave. Not ever. But if I genuinely thought it might keep her safe, I would send her away. Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.
“I don’t know if that would be enough. Most of the ferals are territorial, but the drive to mate and to feed are probably stronger than that. If you leave town to return home, he might simply follow you.”
She frowns, thinking, and then says almost absentmindedly, “Well, I’m not going home, at any rate.
I’m sort of a professional nomad. Which means the closest thing I have to a house right now, is that cabin I rented for the next two months.
And that clearly isn’t going to work.” She nods like she’s making up her mind. “So I’m safer here with you.”
I would make sure she’s safe no matter where she goes. I won’t keep her here, though it would be easier if I do. If she had insisted on leaving, I would have followed to keep her safe, even if it meant exposing my secret.
Not wanting to scare her more than she already is, I merely nod.
She takes a step closer to me, looking up at me with wide, trusting eyes. “There’s got to be some way to convince him I’m not his mate.”
“If you smelled like another monster, he’d probably leave you alone,” I say. I step closer to her, leading her back into the study.
“Do I need to just put on a shirt that you’ve worn or something?”
I stare at her, confounded by the innocence in her gaze. “That’s not the kind of scent that’s needed,” I say.
She frowns. “I’m confused.”
“You need to smell of another monster’s release.” I swallow hard and try my damndest not to lower my gaze to stare at the tempting cleavage she has on view.
“I see. Oh, OH!” She takes a shaky breath then pulls off her shirt in one go.
The she asks, somewhat breathlessly, “Can you do it? Can you just mark my boobs or something? Will that work?” Then her hands are reaching behind her back and she’s unhooking her bra.
It slides off her shoulders then to the floor.
It’s been twenty years since I’ve seen a pair of breasts in person, but I don’t recall ever seeing any this perfect.
“Fuck me,” I murmur.
“You can still function that way, right?” she asks.
Her eyes drop to the front of my jeans where my dick is desperately trying to drill a hole through my zipper. Her teeth bite into her lower lip and then she looks back up at me with a look in her eyes that’s almost …
It can’t be hope, can it? Anticipation?
No. It can’t be.
There’s no way she actually wants this. Does she?
“I mean, can you …” She lets the question dangle between us, the gleam in her eyes getting brighter.
“Yes. It doesn’t normally work quite like this.
” I swallow. “Normally I have to manually stimulate myself before I can even get an erection. I’ve had this though since I first smelled your cookie dough scent in the forest.” I take a step closer, and lift my hand to reach for her tit, then stop myself.
“What?” She blinks up at me.
“Vivian, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Why would you hurt me?”
“Because my desire for you is so damn strong.” I squeeze my eyes closed and shake my head. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you.”
“Atticus,” she whispers. “Open your eyes.”
When I do, she’s still standing there like a miracle—my miracle—shirtless and staring up at me with wonder in her expression.