Chapter 43 #2
She was quiet, contemplating my response. It didn’t seem like she believed me. Maybe she wanted to, but she didn’t. I’d get her there. She would learn to trust me fully. With her life.
“You aced your exam,” I said, squeezing her thigh.
“You graded mine already?” Her eyes fell to my mouth for half a second, her tongue skating across her lower lip.
“I might have looked at it,” I teased.
“No special treatment?”
“Not with your grade, no. But I think you deserve some now. Yeah?”
A submissive flush blossomed on her cheeks.
━━━━━
A wicked storm was barreling down outside, bolts of lightning tossing sharp white flashes across the house, illuminating the walls in flickering beats.
Wind lashed on the windows, stinging droplets of rain smacking on the glass then pouring down in a watery sheet.
I navigated silently through the first floor, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end every time lightning struck and revealed the room in a series of motionless images.
I slipped into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinet then sticking it under the automatic spout on the fridge door. Water trickled into the glass, the sound of it lost to the pouring rain and rolling thunder.
A flare of lightning splashed across the room and I caught a silhouette in the corner of my eye, my heart rate spiking and my hand tightening on the glass.
Mason stood in the wide entrance, barely visible in the dark, wearing nothing but his boxers—same as me. He didn’t speak, but brushed past me to grab a cup of his own. I stepped back, allowing him access to the fridge, my fingers squeezing my cup so tightly now I thought it might break.
“Thirsty?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“And you thought you’d just help yourself.”
“Am I supposed to ask your permission every time I need water? The fuck are you talking about,” he muttered, raising the glass to his lips and taking several large gulps. I watched the strong column of his throat move with each swallow.
“Suspicious you’re down here at the exact same time as me,” I commented, irritation crawling over my skin. I didn’t like him staying here, infiltrating the space I’d specifically curated without him, but I wanted to deal with Aamon even less. Until he was dead, Mason owed me.
Mason finished his drink then slammed the cup in the sink. “Fuck off.”
“So polite.”
“I’m not a houseguest. I’m a prisoner. I don’t have to be nice to you.”
“Why haven’t you killed him yet?” I pushed, then took a gulp of my own water. The liquid was cool in my throat, soothing the dryness.
“I will,” Mason gritted, thunder echoing around his words.
“Yeah? When?”
“When I feel like it.”
“Sounds like a fucking excuse to me.”
“You always underestimate me,” he spat, flexing his hands. Sparks of electricity began dancing along his fingertips, the air crackling around him. A heated feeling stirred low in my gut. We were both quicker to fight now. I set my glass down, stepping closer to him, facing him fully.
“And you always let me in far enough to push you,” I countered, subtly tugging on a thread of rage in his mind, toying with it.
Another ominous flash of lightning grazed the wood floor, illuminating the tension in the room. The following thunder shook the whole house, splitting loudly across the sky. The glass rattled in the sink.
Mason’s chest heaved, anger and thrill blending into something dangerous, each surge of power between us feeling like a hot brush of skin against skin. I delved further into his mind, craving the rush in my veins, the pure, uncontested control I had over him if I desired.
“Maybe that’s only because I want to push back. To hurt you worse,” he said. A hint of a challenge lined his tone, electricity skating over his clenched fists.
With another flick of my mind, I tugged on a streak of lust he was desperately trying to bury in his brain. Too bad he couldn’t hide anything from me. I would always be able to draw out every filthy little secret.
“Are you sure that’s all you want to do? Hurt me?” I taunted, the air shimmering on the edges of my vision, tempting me with possibilities.
More thunder rumbled overhead, violent and explosive, sinking into my bones.
When I inhaled, I could smell his kapnos. Saltwater on bare skin, choppy waves, sheer oceanic darkness. He could probably smell me too. Dark in the same way, but traced with shadows, not storms. Forest, not ocean.
“Yeah. That’s all I want to do,” Mason said, surging forward a little, enough to make my blood pressure spike.
“Doubt it.”
“I really, really hate the fact that you dragged me back into your life. You don’t know how to stay gone. Leave me the fuck alone.”
“Trust me, I hate it just as much as you—”
“That’s goddamn bullshit, Micah,” he cut me off. “Let me go, then. Deal with Aamon on your own because I’m sick of seeing you. Don’t be a pussy.”
“That’s a lot of talk from the man who’s can’t seem to gather the courage to kill one singular demon,” I said, irritated, heart pumping. “You’ve lost your edge.”
“I’ve lost my edge?” He was standing too close. “How would you know that? You don’t know me anymore.”
He was close enough to feel his heat mingling with my own, close enough to hear his breaths, close enough to reach out and grab his—
He slammed his hand against my bare chest, shoving me backwards while stabbing me with electricity. Every muscle in my body tensed up, excruciating pain searing along every nerve, leaving me raw and panting by the time my spine slammed into the edge of the counter and Mason took his hand off me.
“That’s all you got?”
I was viscerally aware of how blurred the lines felt at nighttime. Memories shook up all the thoughts in my head, slamming me with images of Mason on his knees, my cock deep in his throat and my hand on the back of his head. Images of us together, fucking around for hours every night. Insatiable.
My eyes cast downward. It was dark, but not dark enough to conceal the erection tenting his boxer briefs. My cock thickened in response to the sight of it. I gripped the edge of the counter, fingers curled around the cool granite.
“Stop fucking with me,” he said through his teeth.
“I’m not doing shit to you,” I said, my voice getting rougher.
I was fully hard now—as hard as Mason was.
He looked down at my own erection pushing at my underwear, hunger in his eyes. We were standing so close now. It wouldn’t take much to close that gap, to feel the hardness of Mason’s cock against my own, to grind my hips into his. Even though our clothes, it would feel so good.
“You’re in my head.”
“I’m not in your head now.”
Our eyes met, our abs expanding and contracting with every breath. So many goddamn memories were filling the air I could’ve choked on them.
Kapnos wasn’t supposed to affect other male angels the same way it would female angels, since males couldn’t procreate with each other. But I’d always felt like that was a lie. Mason’s scent made me feel absolutely insane. It was a drug, one I hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
And I was just now being reminded of how potent the high was.
“Having regrets?” he questioned, eyes dragging angrily over my body.
“I’d never regret leaving you. Every time you open your mouth I’m reminded exactly why I did it.”
He responded to my words exactly the way I knew he would—with explosive fury swelling in his skull. Lightning arced across the sky at the exact moment his hand slammed against my throat, fingers squeezing the sides.
I didn’t react.
Rain pummeled the glass, filling the house with a constant wash of heavy noise. He was crushing my windpipe. I could hardly breathe.
“That’s not what I meant,” he snarled.
Mason pressed forward still holding my throat, a new ferocity in his eyes. My hands ached from how hard I was gripping the counter, hatred raining down on me in stinging sheets.
Yes. There is one thing I’ll always regret, and you know that.
You know I can never change it.
Without hesitating, for the first time in my life, I took everything from him. Sight, speech, hearing, smell, touch.
He was trapped inside the confines of his own skull, and I could control him there, too.
It was easy to get away from him after that, which I did, stalking through the living room towards the stairs, fingers twitching.
I slammed the door to my bedroom behind me, releasing my control on Mason’s mind as the harsh sound echoed through the room.
I didn’t think he’d break in here to kill me for what I’d done, because he knew I could just do it again.
I screwed my eyes shut, my body too hot under my blankets, limbs tangled in the sheets.
Dakota should be here.
I craved her, needed to hold her in my hands.
Something to stop the out of control feeling spiraling through me.
Mason was hard to contain, and the more I tried to control him, the more it drained me, and the sloppier I got.
No, I didn’t require much neon to use my aspect, but holding every jagged piece of him wasn’t easy.
I fucking need her.
Her soft body, tucked against mine under the blankets. Thunder constructing a backdrop while lightning illuminated her pretty features. Big green eyes, wanting to trust me even when she knew she shouldn’t.
Dakota was it. She gave me the purpose I’d been so desperately searching for. My second chance at creating a life worth living.
Now that I knew she existed, I just…couldn’t go back to not knowing.
I rolled flat on my back, arms splayed wide on the mattress, head resting on the pillow.
I stared at the ceiling, attempting to remind myself that I was her literal professor—which meant something to humans.
She’d even brought it up today, as a point against me.
I’d done well at acclimating to human life, familiarizing myself with their systems of morality, but sometimes I forgot how I was supposed to be reacting to things.
If someone got too close to me having sex with Dakota, I’d just alter their hearing a little bit, cause some slippage in their memory, erase any suspicions from their mind. But Dakota didn’t know I could do that.
There were reasons I’d been able to stay at Blackpine so long without aging—nobody truly remembered me or what I looked like.
It was a conscious choice to pull memories of myself from the humans who saw me in passing, but I hardly realized I was doing it anymore.
People who didn’t see me regularly couldn’t remember who I was or what I looked like when they weren’t staring directly at me, and people who did see me regularly…
well, the mind was malleable. I couldn’t manipulate memories of things other than myself, and only in this vague way, but that was enough for my purposes.
I bent my arm, resting my palm flat on my chest. Tomorrow, I’d see Dakota again.
Tonight, I needed to try and rest while a reckless nightmare slept a few doors down.