Page 7 of Aberrant Monsters
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Jacob’s wordscircled my mind as I got ready for bed. What did he mean about taking risks and having adventures? What had he seen of my future?
I climbed into bed, shaking off the thoughts. I had enough to worry about without dwelling on the words of a centuries-old ghost to add to my to-do list.
The sun would be up in a few hours, and I wanted to be asleep before Telarion came home and merged with me again.
If I was asleep, I wouldn’t feel…it.
I’d barely settled when a shadow blocked out the moonlight. My skin pebbled. “You’re back early.”
“It seems evil is hiding tonight,” Telarion said.
My pulse sped up. “Oh…”
He drifted closer to the bed, his coattails flapping in the phantom breeze that tended to accompany him everywhere he went. It wreathed him, lifting tendrils of his inky hair so it rippled around his face.
His eyes were bright with hunger, his chest heaving with it.
My mouth dried up, throat aching, limbs growing heavy as he exerted his influence. “Telarion…Please…” I wasn’t sure if I was pleading with him to leave me be or take what he needed.
“You know the deal, August. You agreed to it, remember?”
My mind flashed back to that night beyond the rift. The moment where I’d been suspended between life and death. The moment the angel of death himself had hovered over me, his mouth inches from mine, promising salvation in exchange for a temporary home in my body.
Salvation for sustenance.
Drifting in and out of consciousness, I’d agreed.
Salvation was mine and I owed him. If he couldn’t sate his hunger with flesh, then he’d sate it with my blood.
He drifted to the end of the bed, then flew up to hover above me, his huge body shadowing mine.
My heart leapt into my throat and blood rushed to my head.
“Relax,” he said. “This won’t hurt much.”
No, it wouldn’t hurt, and therein lay the problem. “Make it fast.”
His gloved fingers brushed against my skin as he swept locks of my hair away from my neck. The impression of the weight of him pressed against the duvet, trapping me in place.
He dipped his head, his bare cheek brushing mine in a moment that was all too brief before his cool lips touched my jugular. I squeezed my eyes closed, holding my breath to stifle the groan that accompanied the initial pain of the twin punctures. The invasion was followed immediately by a rush of heat that radiated outward, spilling across my neck, under my jaw, and down over my breasts like a caress, holding me in place. Each draw of his mouth tugged at my nipples, urging them into eager peaks; each lap of his tongue slickened my core, forcing me to swell and ache for something that I didn’t want to claim.
I closed my eyes and endured the pleasure his feeding evoked, allowing my body to fall into his grip, because there was no other choice. Nothing to do but let him take his fill. I pressed my thighs together, quelling my need as he satisfied his.
Finally, it was over. He retreated, licking his lips with the tip of his monstrous tongue, eyes darkening as his gaze skipped across my face.
“Did I hurt you?” His words were thick and slightly slurred. Almost as if he was intoxicated.
Drunk on my blood.
I turned my face away, desperately needing him to be gone so I could be alone.
He remained for a moment longer before drifting away from the bed toward the moonlit window.
“I’ll be back at dawn,” he said, his tone cold and distant.
He slipped away and I waited for long seconds, my body twisted with need, before I finally caved and slipped my fingers into my wet heat to finish what he’d started.
