The Nightlife: New York (The Nightlife Series) (14 page)

CHAPTER 17

Michelle watched Aaron as he kept his distance from her,
cold and sterile, going along to get along.  After three nights like this, she
reached the limit of her patience for his brooding silence.  She had attempted
to engage him in conversation but he blocked her, refusing to speak unless
asked a direct question.  His mind remained closed off, not a hint of his
thoughts.  Only the slightest taint slipped past his barrier once in a while. 
These small glimpses of his thoughts never contained anything positive.

He was going sour fast.

Something needed to change soon before they reached an
impasse where she might be forced to take action.  She might have to kill him.

She learned more from his aura than from their psychic bond. 
It was streaked with bold colors of anger and resentment.  She’d never seen this
side of him before.  His cold negativity saturated everything.  Their time
together had become mechanical, holding no elements of friendliness.  They went
through the motions of meeting their basic feeding impulse then returned to
Michelle’s apartment in silence.

Michelle briefly considered ending it now.  She’d done it
before.  It wasn’t impossible to kill a vampire.  Maybe difficult, but not
impossible.  With her authority of compulsion she held the advantage despite
his superior strength and speed.  It would be quick, painless.  He wouldn’t
suffer.  Perhaps that was the humane thing to do.  He obviously wasn’t happy
living under her domination.  He looked like he was ready to take her head off
at any moment.  Maybe it was wise to strike first before he turned on her.

He sat at the kitchen table in front of her laptop, his
attention absorbed by the Internet.  She flexed her razor sharp claws and
reached for him.  He had his back turned, his beautiful shirtless torso exposed
to her attack.  She could do it so quick he’d never see it coming.  She
envisioned the move in her mind’s eye, marshaling her nerve to do it.  Then he
sensed her there right behind him, his breathing quickened, his heart rate
elevated.  His aura bled through with colors of anxiety, angst, frustration,
lust, and there it was, faint but still recognizable, love.  He was fighting
with the fact that he still loved her despite everything she’d done to him. 
His internal battle slipped past the crack in his mental vault.  It confirmed
what she saw in his aura.  He loved her, and resented the fact.

And he was hurting.

It occurred to her that she had become the cruel master,
abusing her power over him.  She remembered being in the same position, enslaved
by a sadist.  And what was the difference?  She had turned sex into a torturous
form of punishment.  What made her any better than her former master?

She realized she was the one to blame for the situation
between them.  She would need to make the effort to repair the breach.  It was
her responsibility.  She owed him an apology.

But what if he remained cold and aloof?  Had she created a
monster?  Was it too late already?  What if she’d led him too far down the path
of cruelty?

She wanted the old Aaron back.  The one who looked at her
with such adoration, not the cold resentful bastard he’d become.  She enjoyed
him in her life.  They were good together.  The few nights they had spent in
her bed were fantastic.  The most invigorating moments of the past five
decades.  She decided to take the initiative to break through to him.

“We need to talk about what happened the other night.”  She stepped
around to face him and looked directly into his eyes.  “Things cannot remain as
they are between us.”

He didn’t answer.  He continued giving her the silent
treatment.  His emotions boiled behind the door to his mental vault.

* * * *

Aaron felt like a dumb animal who still loves its master
regardless of whatever abuse it must endure.  No matter how angry he was, he
still loved Michelle.  This made him even angrier.  He felt like tearing
something apart with his bare hands in frustration.  The sad truth:  he ached
to be near her.  But what good would it do to behave like an affectionate sop
when dealing with a mercenary who uses sex as punishment?  And so he bottled it
up.  Anger, resentment, love, lust, desire, it was becoming quite a toxic
blend.

Part of his problem was the extreme sexual frustration of
being so close to her without intimacy.  He’d slept on the floor of her bedroom
for two days in a row.  If it were possible he would have slept on the couch,
but her bedroom was the only room sealed against the daylight.  Lying near her,
knowing she was there but so distant, had become an especially agonizing form
of torture.  He wanted to hurt her, love her, fuck her every which way and
leave her, all at the same time.

Instead he did nothing and said nothing.  He didn’t have a
clue how to talk to her without blowing up in her face.

“I fear I have made a mess, and I must explain.”  She paused
considering her words carefully.  “My only experience with the male vampire was
very disturbing.  He was my master, extremely violent, with no control over his
passions.  The night he turned me, he did horrible things to me.  When my body
was completely broken and I bled almost to death, only then did he feed me his
blood.  I soon learned this was normal for him.  He abused the frail women all
the time.  He said this is the vampire’s way because our passions consume all
reason.  He claimed is worse with the males.  They are always mixing sex, blood,
and violence.  It was a very long time before I realized he was simply
justifying his monstrous behavior.”

Aaron felt disgusted and compassionate with her confession. 
He wanted to reach out to her, but did not.  The hurt and resentment hung
between them like a wall.

He broke his silence.  “You believed I would behave this way
with Rosalie?  Yes, I suppose you did, considering what happened with Lisa.” 
He still felt ashamed about what he’d done to the dancer.  His guilt weighed
upon him.  And then there was Rosalie, who he’d also hurt inadvertently.  He
began to see the danger he posed to women, how Michelle might view his
indiscretions.  He knew with certainty he could have killed Lisa or Rosalie,
and he might have even enjoyed it.

“Lisa was nothing compared to what I have seen, what I
experienced through my master.”  She reached out to him, caressing his face and
hair, trying to impart some affection.  “I assumed you did something terrible
to Rosalie.  I never imagined you could have the caution and compassion you
showed her.  I felt your thoughts and experiences with her.  You tried very
hard for control.”  She stepped closer to him, looking him in the eyes while
she continued touching him.  He finally stood up and faced her.

“What you did was beautiful.  In a way she loves you for this
gift you give her.  I must apologize to you.”

She hadn’t come to shove it in his face like he’d expected. 
She was asking forgiveness.  The dam of emotion started to break, resentment,
anger, and hopelessness leaking out.  “What difference does it make?  You can
force me to do whatever you want, whenever you feel like it.  Why does it
matter what I think?”

“It matters to me.”  She opened her own mental privacy block
to let him feel the truth of her words.  Her sincerity seemed at odds with her
behavior of the last two days, he struggled to believe it.

His rancor overflowed, pouring all over her.  He laughed
bitterly.  “I shouldn’t really complain, the sex was awesome.  A bit painful,
but still phenomenal.”

He stuck her with his nasty, sarcastic barb, but she let it
slide, reaching past the negativity, trying to find the other side of his
emotions.  Michelle stepped up to full body contact nuzzling his neck.  She was
cheating again, using the power of his attraction for her to wash away all the
spite and resentment.

She whispered in his ear brushing her lips across his skin.  “Yes,
it was wonderful.  Yet I hurt you.  I fear I have done something you will never
forgive.  I was wrong.  My only excuse is that I was very angry.  I assumed you
abused Rosalie.  I wanted to punish you, to abuse you.  And I did.”

Her body language unraveled three days of loneliness and
frustration.  The physical power she held over him with her touch was so
complete she didn’t even need to speak, but she continued with her apology
anyway.

“I understand how you feel, but I must beg your
forgiveness.  I promised I would not abuse you, and I broke my promise.” 
Michelle began kissing his neck and stroking his back and shoulders and chest.

She cheated hardcore.  Impossible to remain angry when she
poured on the affection.  All his resentment and pain drained away at the touch
of her warm wet lips and fingertips.  Second by second, he lost each and every
reason he held for being angry.  All that remained was love and forgiveness. 
He could never deny her forgiveness.  He couldn’t think of much else when she
did this to him.  He had no defense for her secret weapon.  Her seduction was
irresistible.

“You promise you’re not gonna do that again?  You promise
you won’t judge me based on assumption?  You promise not to abuse your power?” 
He tried to hold her at arm’s length to give her a serious look.

She snaked back into his arms, whispering in his ear,
flicking her tongue.  “I promise.  I am forgiven?  You still love me?”  She
wrapped her arms and legs around him, thighs wide open in invitation.  It felt
heavenly.  He could never deny her anything when she did this to him.  “Now we
can have make-up sex. 
Oui
?
  I will let you be on top
this time.”

He couldn’t help but grin like an idiot.  “Yes, Michelle, I
still love you.  I’ve always loved you.  But you knew that already.”  As they
reunited together with the pent-up passions of three nights of abstinence, it
didn’t escape his notice that Michelle never once mentioned how she felt about
him.

* * * *

In bed together, after several rounds of lovingly
affectionate sex and mutual biting, Aaron sensed Michelle still had something
more to confess.

“Come out with it.  There’s something else on your mind.” 
He propped himself on his elbows, looking her square in the eyes.

“
Oui
. 
There is another reason I feared sending you out into the night without my
guidance.”  She paused and caressed his back and thighs, collecting her
thoughts.  “There is a
problème
I encountered when I was awakened to this life and my control was not very good.” 

She hesitated.  He sensed she was unsure whether or not to
continue.  She had never spoken of this before, and it had happened so very
long ago.  He cupped her breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb as he kissed
her on the nose.  “Please go on.  I’d like to hear more.”

She nodded and kissed him on the lips while caressing his
chest.  A very effective distraction.  “You know this word
feral?
  You
know what it means?”

“I think so.  It has something to do with a wild animal?”

“
Oui,
is like that.  This can happen to us.  We are truly predators with instincts to
hunt and kill.  Vicious killers.  When we lose our reason, when we are consumed
in strong emotion, is possible to become feral.  Is like a mindless wild animal
hunting on instinct, attacking anyone who comes near.”  Michelle paused.

He waited for her to continue.  Suddenly her confession
seemed very important.  He had never considered the ramifications of what she
described.  But it was all too easy to imagine how it might happen.  He had
felt a certain
wildness
lurking there inside him recently.  It scared
him to think such a thing was possible, or that this might have happened to the
wonderful creature cuddling with him.

“In France at the end of the war, WWII, something very
traumatic happened to me, and I was lost for a time.  I roamed the countryside
like a wild animal, hunting at night and hiding in basements or holes in the
ground by daylight.  I don’t recall this time very clearly.  Is like
remembering a dream.  I know this can happen to you … if it happened to me.” 
She drew circles on his chest with her fingertips, avoiding direct eye contact. 
He sensed her embarrassment, she had never admitted this to anyone before.

She must be over eighty years old!

He couldn’t fathom this beautiful woman caressing his body
roaming across France in the middle of the war.  Michelle had never told him
anything about her life before they met.  He was fascinated to learn more.  “Please
go on.”

“There was a man who found me.  Luckily, I did not kill him.
 I think I was wounded and unconscious, or else I would have attacked him.  I
spent several weeks with him.  In this time I regained my sanity and returned
to civilization, after he died.  His story is very sad.  He died because of me.” 
She paused in solemnity, a powerful sense of regret and loss still there after
all those years.  She continued, “Someday I will tell you more, but not now.”

She looked him in the eyes with her chin on his chest, fingertips
stroking his shoulders, and finally got around to the point.  “When you came
home after your date and I smelled the blood and sex all over you, it brought
the memories of this wild life.  I became very angry.  Because of my assumptions,
I wanted to hurt you, as I said before.  Also, I was angry with myself.  I let
you go out without guidance, without an anchor to keep control of the predator. 
I felt it was my fault you hurt Rosalie.”

She paused for a second, considering, then continued.  “I was
wrong.  You did not hurt her.  Not really.  You have very good control.  You
cared about this woman.”  Michelle looked like she was about to cry.

Her vulnerability was arousing.  That and her constant
stroking up and down his body while she spoke.  He rolled her over, pinning her
beneath him, and teased her wet entry with his erection, holding her gaze.  “You
are so damn sexy when you take the blame for me.  I’m gonna show you some of
that wild animal you’re so worried about.”