Page 145 of Sky Song
“Pay me back, huh. You already have, neighbor, in ways that can’t be numbered.”
“Like what?” Cricket asked, amused.
“Like your friendship.”
Dressed in Ren’s flannel shirt and cap that hid most of her face, Cricket took a risk by going to Atticus at a busy time, armed with a membership pass Paloma gave her. The pass would allow her to come and go unrestricted, and it would work for the lower floor access.
She came in through the main door, shoulders straight and looking ahead, a tall willow woman with plenty of confidence, just like she always wanted to think of herself. And today, her fake-it-till-you-make-it tactic worked. She didn’t just feel like that woman; she was one. She had to be, for Lyle.
She found Ren in a downstairs poker room, dealing cards to a group of men, his own cap pulled down low. He no longer manned the bar as the position was too high in visibility, but here, in the back, his fear of discovery was low.
“I don’t advise a visit,” he said when the men finished the game and he was free to come to the dark corner where she waswaiting. How ironic that her life was now lived in shadow areas. Maybe she’d turn into a vampire.
“That makes me want to see him even more.”
With a hard look that clearly communicated his disapproval, Ren reached into his pocket and produced another card. “Lock the door when you finish. Don’t let him out.”
“You locked him up?”
“He asked for it. And he’s right, it’s better that way. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
With shaking hands, Cricket lifted the card to the beeper that kept the familiar mechanical room at the very back of the club locked with a new lock. It opened, and she slid inside, closing the door behind her.
The room was light, with painted metal cabinets neatly hiding electrical and communications panels and wires, heating and cooling equipment, pipes - the usual, all in excellent condition. In one corner, a table and chair provided a semblance of hospitality.
He wasn’t availing himself to the furniture. Sitting on the painted concrete floor with his hack to the wall, he stared at her without blinking. His unusual eyes, blackest black, were now tinted with a nasty gray film and… crazed. If one could transfer the expression onto such an alien creature as Rix.
“Lyle…”
His nostrils opened up as he drew air, and he moaned.Moaned.
Every single cell within Cricket’s body shrunk in panic. After just a few days, he’d gotten so much worse. Surging up in one powerful, fluid motion, he was on her in an instant. She could see the slitted irises expanding and contracting uncontrollably as he fought to focus on her face. His own was drawn in tight lines, a hungry wolf, and a sick one.
He hovered in front of her, without touching but wanting to, and still, he said nothing.
“Lyle,” she whispered.
And the pounce was on. He picked her up like she weighed nothing at all and took her to the table, parking her behind on the solid surface and stepping between her legs. Foreplay? He gave no indication he’d ever heard of it. Cricket fought him to pull off her clothes, afraid he’d shred them to pieces. He latched on to her nipple, hard. Shivering, she took hold of his wrists to… what? Hold on? Break his grip on her body?
He suckled her breasts only briefly before moving up, licking her skin and heating it up only to let it cool once he moved on. Her emotions mirrored this erotic progress, heating up and cooling down in a dizzying see-saw. She sensed a frenzy in his blood that manifested in desire but was not a true desire at its root. Her body recognized his body, and wanted it. But her brain saw a stranger.
He nuzzled and bit her shoulder like an animal gripped by mating fever, drawing blood. She gasped, and he fused his mouth to hers, plumbing it deep. Oh, his taste was still Lyle’s taste, lovely and sweet. Holding that thought, Cricket forced everything else out of her mind. He needed her, he couldn't help himself, and she was his. Even in the worst of it, when he took her hard, mindless of her pleasure or comfort or even pain, she was his.
He came hard, filing her, and went still. For one suspended, terrifying moment all traces of his energy disappeared. Like he died in her arms. Like he never existed at all.
But then he moved, sagging a little against her, and the disjoint energy was back, calmer than before, more subdued.
He moved away silently, and Cricket lowered her stiff legs, covering up her nakedness. She was uncomfortable, downright sore, and fighting to not show it.
“How… are you feeling?” A rather inane thing to ask, but so were their circumstances.
He blinked his otherworldly eyes that were back to clear black. “I can think. For just a short time, you gave me my sanity back. My hearts, I…” He couldn't go on.
Her heart was breaking into pieces. How could she live without him? “Lyle.” She walked up and hugged him, and finally, he returned her embrace, enveloping her in his cool strength, and it was tight and tender, like it should be. “What can we do?”
He shook his head with a hoarse sound, and finally said, “Nothing. You shouldn’t have come. I told you not to come.”
Cricket laughed. “Like that’s going to stop me.”
