You flattened your hands on the table in front of me. Passion flared in your eyes as you growled, “Do you even remember what it was like when you were my age?”
It was agonizing, exhilarating, and terrifying all at once. The memory that came to mind was of me crouched over a freshly dead corpse, feeding with reckless abandon. But that was a different time and place. We’d sheltered you from violence and conflict. I prayed that was enough to temper your bloodlust.
“It was hard,” I admitted.
You studied me closely. I reminded myself to blink, just in case you were attempting another seduction.
“There are so many ways I could get into trouble,” you said and licked your lips, then trapped your plush bottom one between your teeth, tearing it just a little before releasing it. Blood beaded up on your velvet skin, and I smelled it from across the table.
“Wouldn’t you feel better knowing I was channeling all of my cravings toward one purpose?” you asked, collecting the blood with the tip of your tongue.
I cleared my throat and told my body not to react to your suggestive words and gestures. Foolishly, I asked, “What purpose would that be?”
Your knavish eyes widened, and your nostrils flared, clear signs of arousal I recognized even if your scent wasn’t already overpowering me, so heady I had to sit back and take a breath.
“You should see what a cucumber looks like after it’s been in my mouth,” you said with a wicked grin.
I exhaled slowly and tried to banish that image from my mind.
“I’m going on a trip for work,” I said stiffly. I’d made the decision before this meeting, and it was reaffirmed by my body’s response to your provocation.
“Where?” you asked with a panicked edge to your voice.
“South America.”
“Seriously? For how long?”
“A couple of months. A particularly bad actor I’ve been trying to pin down for a while has surfaced again. I’m going to attempt to locate him and bring him in.”
“Is this a punishment?” you asked with a wounded expression.
“No, this is an opportunity for you to expand your horizons and initiate a relationship with one of your peers.”
“I don’t want that,” you said fiercely. “I don’t want anyone but you.”
“It’s for the best, Vincent.” I had to hold firm. I didn’t want to break our soul bond, only give you an opportunity to pursue intimacy with others. It wasn’t right or honorable for me to claim you when you had hardly experienced life. I’d done it to you once already, to disastrous results.
“You’re trying to escape me,” you said with a vicious edge to your voice and bared your teeth. I caught a glimpse of the god you’d one day become, ruthless like Lena, stronger than me in every way.
I borrowed one of your Papa’s metaphors. “I’m giving you space, Vincent, physical and psychological, so that you may grow beyond the size of your container.”
“Youare my container,” you said passionately. “I’ll never outgrow you, Henri. We’ll grow together.”
We stared at each other in a tense standoff. How you tested my resolve.
“You said you’d never leave me,” you pleaded, your voice a minor note. “You promised.”
You couldn’t have known how deeply that would cut.
“It’s only for a couple of months,” I said again.
You sat back in your chair and crossed your arms, refusing to look at me. When I tried to engage you on other topics, you ignored me entirely.
“I can’t fake it with you, Henri,” you said at last, razing me with your glare. “I won’t pretend nothing’s wrong.” You sighed and dragged one hand through your thick hair. “God, I’m so pissed at you right now, but I love you so much.”
I said nothing. You were far braver than I, to declare your feelings so openly and without reservation. I envied your courage. I always had.
“I’ll call you every Sunday,” I said like the coward I was. “And I’ll be back before you know it.”
