“Is it burnt?” you asked, even though it pretty obviously was.
I poked the top of the cake with a fork, and it flaked like ash.
“Just a little overdone,” I said. “You’ll still try it won’t you?” Your mouth opened, caught on a response. You looked completely panicked, and I grinned. “I’m joking, Henri. God, you must think I’m a monster.”
Your laughter broke the tension. I welcomed it. I didn’t want to coerce you into anything, and I really didn’t want you to disappear on me again.
“I wouldn’t put it past you to torment me in small ways,” you said meaningfully.
“Is that what I’m doing?” I dipped my finger into the tub of store-bought icing, then began to slowly lick it clean, plunging my finger all the way into my mouth before drawing it out again. You watched closely, eyes tracking my every movement.
“I need to get a few more things before our trip tomorrow,” you announced suddenly. Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.
“I’ll come with you.”
“No.” You cleared your throat again. “I’ll only be gone a little while. If you get hungry, there’s blood in the freezer.”
You practically sprinted to your bedroom to dress, shutting the door behind you.
“When will you be back?” I shouted through the door. I’d never seen you move so fast.
“Later. Don’t wait up.”
You practically ran out of the condo. I sighed and ate some more icing, but my craving couldn’t be satisfied by sweets alone. I stripped out of my pants and underwear, brushed my teeth, then slid between your cool sheets, even though I hadn’t been invited. I relived that kiss and many more from my dreams, masturbating on your pillow until I came. I fluffed it up and put it back where I’d found it, so you’d know what I’d done.
You couldn’t escape me.
THAT NIGHTI dreamed with Mater. Our last dream share had ended in a fight, when I’d told her about my remorse over what had happened with Carter, and she dismissed it entirely, then blamed you for my “overdeveloped sense of humanity.”
“You look different,” she said as her cool blue eyes scrutinized me closely.
“I dyed my hair.” I didn’t know if it looked silver to her too, or if it was only my own projection.
“No, it’s not that. Something else.” Her crafty eyes narrowed. “How’s Henri?”
Did she know, somehow, that we’d kissed? Were her divining powers that strong?
“He’s taking me on as his apprentice.” I wasn’t permitted to tell her my whereabouts—you were far too paranoid for that—but I could tell her this, at least.
“Whose idea was that?” she asked, hardly hiding her contempt.
“Azrael’s.”
“Of course, it was.”
“You hate him, don’t you?” I said.
“How could I not? He’s imprisoned me, starved me, and isolated me from my loved ones. Even you, my son.”
“Why?” It wasn’t the first time I’d asked. The question came up pretty regularly, and her answers had always been vague.
“I dared to defy him.”
“And Henri helped?”
She grumbled and crossed her arms in dissatisfaction. “Henri informed on me. Led Azrael and the Imperium right to my doorstep. I’d committed no crimes according to tribal code. Of course, the Thrones didn’t see it that way.”
You’d betrayed our own mother because of your loyalty to Azrael. Would you do the same to me?
