Fingertips at the front of my throat. My hair smoothed to the side, the fingers falling to my chest and tracing down my sternum. Then the heat of a body in close proximity to mine, sharing the air around us.
I gasped for air, all I could see behind my eyelids was a dim red light, colored with my blood.
“Shh... you’re awake. It’s all right,” a deep voice whispered.
“What’s going on?”
“You were having a nightmare.” The words came out like a rattle, accompanied by a predatory chittering.
“Is it you? My nightmare?”
“What dares to haunt you but me?” Silas whispered, the words floating around in the dark, trapped with me inside my head. I could feel him close. His hands were warm; he wasn’t wearing his gloves. The smell of his cologne and tobacco clung to his clothes.
Every quickening breath was accompanied by small stammers. A cold sweat was heavy on my skin. I closed my fists and opened them. I could choke.
“Relax yourself. Listen to me...” His voice trailed off, hands on me, hot trails over my cold body. “Feel me...”
My breathing picked up, and it was hard to focus. I couldn’t move. I could twitch my hand, nothing else.
Warmth on my lips, his lips on mine. A gasp was captured by his kiss, like he wanted every last thing from me, even if it was my last breath.
“Silas.” I swallowed, and he kissed me again, harder at the utterance of his name.
“Will you tell me to stop or keep going after such a sweet call of my name, Alina?”
“You call for me so often,” I panted. I could move my arms now, my head feeling like it was finally resurfacing from the dream. “I’m beginning to think you just like the sound of my name on your lips.”
“Maybe I just like the taste.” His words manifested like a snake wrapping around my limbs, ready to devour me whole.
“Careful, cyanide tastes remarkably like almonds.” I reached up without opening my eyes. “It only takes a little bit of sweetener to pass an unremarkable death.”
“Then so be it, my sweetest demise.” His words were almost a purr before he wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me up to kiss me and touch along the back of my neck and down my back.
I kissed him back. As far as I was concerned, this was a dream, and I wasn’t going to open my eyes to make sure.
His hands smoothed down to my hips. “Will you let us be each other’s ruin?”
I silenced him with a long, steady kiss before resting my cheek against his, hugging him tightly. “May it be in another nightmare, my creature.”
I let go, sinking into the softness of my bed.
I didn’t know when he left, or when I went to sleep. I hadn’t the slightest clue of how many hours could have passed.
On my bedside table, he left me a small truce.
A small, simple bowl of sliced peaches, a glass of wine, and a cigarette. His mechanical lighter was placed neatly beside for lighting ease.
I rolled over, the scent of his cologne lingering on the pillow, the sheets, my skin. Or maybe it was just a sensitive nose from being ill.
Figures my one place of ease in a time of need is with the man who makes it his life mission to torture me.
35
THE FIXER
“Do you always smell like hickory and thyme?” I purred, brushing the dark strands of hair away from the Host’s neck.
“I . . . I suppose. I-I’m usually cooking?—”
