Chapter 18
Tonight, it’s just me and the madam, and she’s as entertaining as ever. Even more so, now that Mira’s made a few tweaks and got the audio intact.
Layla’s consistent in wearing her “work uniform”, and the sight of her proudly straightening her hat, like it’s a crown, has me holding in a laugh. It’s strange watching her now. After our encounter the other night—one in which she was as consumed by me as I was by her—she’s suddenly tangible in my world. No longer some unreachable object.
But… a woman. Made of flesh and blood, order and chaos, innocence and carnality.
And I’m addicted.
She rocks back in her chair, and my focus shifts to her legs, bare and smooth, perfect where they rest propped on her desk. A pair of dark underwear are barely visible from the side. I remember her scent, and my eyes fall closed as my cock hardens. But the sweet, sultry sound of her voice has them opening again.
She answers a call, giving her usual spiel to welcome her next customer onto the line. Then, she’s silent while she listens, leaving me curious as to what’s being said on the other end. Her head falls back, and when she rolls her eyes, the frustration becomes apparent, and I understand what’s brought it on when she reiterates the caller’s dilemma. A dilemma that starts and ends with a man named Norman wanting insight into why his cat’s been showing signs of depression in recent weeks.
Despite her annoyance, Layla gives Norman her full, undivided attention, asking question after question to get a feel for how to provide a response that will leave Norman feeling emotionally satisfied. That’s what her work seems to truly be about—reassuring people that their sucky lives will improve in time if they’re willing to make a few minor adjustments.
In a sense, what she does is less seeing into the great beyond, and more… therapy.
In that instance, I suppose she’s followed in her father’s footsteps.
She feeds Norman a few lines about how the spirits are telling her that his cat is merely projecting the energy within the home, and that Norman would be wise to look inward. She adds that self-reflection will reveal the deeper issue he needs to unravel, and when he does, his furry friend will likewise be free from negativity.
With the click of the button, the call is over, and Layla’s eyes are drawn back toward her silent television, seemingly only half-focused on the black and white images moving across the screen.
Her cell phone rings across the room, and her feet lower from her desk. For a moment, I’m solely focused on the perfection of her nicely sculpted ass, it’s tight contours. I haven’t known her to go to the gym, but her curves are accentuated by unusually toned thighs, adding to the long list of physical attributes that make her one hundred percent “wet dream material”.
“Hello?”
She listens to the voice on the other end for a second, then ends my suffering by switching to speaker phone.
“Hey, sweetie. Just checking on you.”
Layla takes a deep breath, and I’m laser focused as she paces at the foot of her bed.
“I’m fine. All things considered.”
“I still can’t believe that asshole kept you waiting alone like that. Did he even give you an explanation?”
“Nope. He promised he would once he got to the club, but as you know, things went a little sideways, so…”
A soft laugh on the other end has Layla smiling at the sound of it.
“Sideways is one way to put it, I guess. Only you can lose one guy and find another in the same night.”
My head tilts with curiosity.
“Are you ever going to reach out to… what’s his name again?”
A set of full, pink lips curve into a smile, and I wish I could reach through the monitor and touch them.
“Damien.”
I will never get used to the sound of my name leaving her beautiful mouth.
Ever.
“Right, Damien. So, will you call?”
There’s only silence as Layla paces, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “I’m leaning toward no.”
Her gaze lowers to her carpet and if I’m not mistaken, she seems torn. I’m not offended by her uncertainty. At her core, she’s good, but I know firsthand there’s darkness within her, too. It’s possible that whatever she senses when I touch her makes it feel like the darkness is winning.
And, if I’m honest, I pray that it does.
“Well, whatever you decide, you know I support you.”
Her smile is back. “I know. You, Dove, and Isha have always been there.”
“And we always will be. Get some rest and hit me up tomorrow if you get time.”
“Will do.”
She ends the call and lowers to the edge of her bed, staring toward the window, but I don’t think she’s really focused on anything. While I’d normally prefer she have peace, I enjoy the idea that she’s unsettled tonight. Because if that call was any indication, what has her in a state of turmoil… is me.
I want her to toss and turn tonight, remembering the feel of her pussy clenching around my fingers while she came.
I want her dripping, fighting the urge to recreate the moment with her vibrator.
I want her hot and uncomfortable, wondering what it’d be like to fuck me—the shadow in her closet. The voice inside her head.
The monster.
As if my thoughts have just crept over her skin, she shivers, and then rubs both hands down her arms. The throbbing in my dick intensifies at the sight of it.
My gaze lowers to my phone when my alarm sounds, and if it weren’t for a very important meeting scheduled this evening, I’d sit here, watching her until the sun rose. But there’s always tomorrow.
Because just like every other day, any moment I can carve out to observe this dark vixen disguised as an angel… I’ll be watching.
* * *
Long, silver hair shimmers beneath the moonlight as Vera stands poised, her head tilted back as she stargazes. Throughout the years, she’s one of few people I’ve allowed to know my true self, one of few I trust. Hence the reason she’s the original member of our flock’s Circle of Six—a group of respected elders within our community whose authority is second only to mine.
The sound of my footsteps has her turning to face me, and her eyes light up the same as they always have, for as long as I’ve known her. With genuine excitement simply because I’m in her presence.
“My boy,” she beams. As soon as I’m within arm’s reach, she draws me into a hug as though it’s been years since we’ve seen one another. While, in reality, we meet up to chat at least one evening every month.
Living on the same piece of land doesn’t mean much. Not with there being so many members in the flock. As we’ve grown, as maintaining and providing for our community requires more attention than in the past, it’s easy to go weeks without crossing paths. Which is why I’m intentional and consistent when it comes to Vera. A woman who, despite there being no shared blood between us, has been the only mother-figure I’ve ever known.
“You look well,” I say, letting her fawn over me like she tends to do. Her hands warm both sides of my face before she lets go.
We turn and fall in step with one another, taking an unhurried stroll through the garden.
“Despite the wrinkles and creaky bones, I’d say I’m even doing well,” she teases.
“Ah, don’t be silly. You’re as young and beautiful as ever.”
Her smile brightens. “And you’re as good a liar as ever.”
I laugh a little, but I meant every word.
“Slow down,” she warns, sweetly reprimanding a small group of what I assume to be preteens. Then, her gaze shifts to me. “It’s a little late for them to be out and about unsupervised, isn’t it?”
I shrug. “We were that age once. A little extra freedom out from under Mom and Dad’s wings won’t hurt them.”
“Until they start burning shit down,” she mumbles, and I laugh.
“Touché.”
“But oddly enough, this is exactly what I hoped we’d discuss tonight.”
I glance toward her, arching a brow. “Burning shit down?”
She nudges me with her elbow. “No, smartass. Family.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Well, more specifically… your family.”
The statement has me circling any number of things she might mean by that, but my first thought is of my father. A father we both loved dearly. Had it not been for him, his legacy, none of this would have been possible.
I feel the heat of Vera’s gaze on me, and I glance down toward her as we approach the rose bushes.
“You’re not getting any younger, you know. Twenty-seven may seem young, but in the big scheme of things, time’s getting away from you, Damien.”
Now, I’m starting to get her meaning, but I don’t respond.
“Most people might not know this about you, but you’re complex,” she says.
“How so?”
“Well, you’re a force all your own, but you do need companionship.”
The breeze blows through, rustling the tall trees surrounding the property, and it’s the only sound to be heard as I consider her words.
“And… what if I’m not so sure that exists for me. Not truly. Where someone can completely accept who and what I am? My past? What’s woven into my DNA?”
She glances up at me, and I meet her gaze. Without me coming right out and saying it, Vera knows what I mean. Acting on my rage, taking lives… it isn’t a phase for me. It’s more than a craving.
It’s a need.
Always has been, and I suspect it always will be.
“And what about all of this?” I say next, spreading my arms wide as I scan what we’ve built here. “You honestly believe there’s a woman who’d accept the weight of the mantle I carry? The lives I’m responsible for?”
“I think you’d be surprised.”
The certainty in her tone has me laughing again. “Interesting.”
“Well, what would you say if I told you I believe I’ve already found her,” she says, but then corrects herself. “Or should I say… we’ve already found her.”
My gaze lowers to meet hers, and our steps halt. An image of a certain raven-haired girl fills my head, and my interest in this conversation is suddenly piqued. The Circle of Six are aware of my… side project, so it’s not so farfetched that Vera might have drawn this conclusion. So, for a fraction of a second, I think the name she’s about to speak will be Layla’s. But then, she knocks the wind right out of me when she says…
“Aria.”
A deep breath lifts my shoulders, and when I exhale, I hold my tongue to avoid saying the wrong thing. After all, Aria is her niece. Mostly, I try to separate the two in my head, for fear that I’ll subconsciously hold the familial relation against Vera, but it’s hard to compartmentalize the two now that she’s brought it up in conversation.
Apparently, my face gives away more than I intend for it to, and she reads me.
“You object?” she asks.
Weighing my words, I pause before speaking. “Aria is… not someone I see myself with.”
Vera crosses her arms and shoots a questioning look my way. “Well, she’s certainly been someone I’ve seen you with. On several occasions, might I add. Am I missing something?”
I’m not quite sure how to express just how hollow my connection is with Aria. But what Vera andAria have both seemed to miss is that… I’m just not that fucking into her.
When I fail to answer, Vera turns, and we begin walking the grounds again.
“You should know this has come up within The Circle more than once. It’s believed that if the flock sees that you’ve settled down, being a family man, it’ll make you a more stable leader in their eyes.”
“A family man,” I laugh, and Vera glances up with a smile.
“Damien, I’m dead serious. I think this would be good for the flock, and I definitely think it would be good for you,” she adds, sounding hopeful. “Just a short time ago, I caught wind about one of our men nearly assaulting a woman because they were engaged to be married, and he got it in his head that he had a right to her body.”
My thoughts go back to that very incident. The one that ended with the blood of the man she speaks of on my hands.
“They’ve got the wrong idea about what commitment and family look like in a place like this, Damien. We function by different rules, enjoy certain liberties not widely accepted by the rest of society, so some of that blame falls on us for not showing this flock the way. But now that we know, now that we’ve identified the problem… who better to be that example they so clearly need than you? Was it not your vision to build a family here?”
Again, I fail to answer her question, but only because it has me deep in thought.
“I can only put the bug in your ear,” she says. “These are your people, and they trust no one to lead them but you. However, bear in mind, more often than not, being a leader requires sacrifice. I will go no further than to at least get a feel for whether Aria would be open to the idea, but the next steps—should you decide to take them—will be yours to make.”
The problem with my love for Vera is that her words bare weight. Not only does she have my best interest at heart, but also the best interest of our people, and for that reason, this request weighs heavily.
And while I can now bet on this not being the last time this conversation will arise, I also know I’m taking her concerns into consideration.
As we continue the rest of our walk in silence, her voice echoes in my head—being a leader requires sacrifice.
I know she means well, but as rage surges through me at the thought of being expected to settle with Aria… I can’t help but wish Vera had kept this shit to herself.