My eyes flew open, and I sat bolt upright. "Patchouli?" I brought my hand to my mouth, and huffed a breath of hot air into it. Sniffing, I check the quality of my breath. Granted, it wasn't exactly minty fresh, but it was far from being as repulsive as he was acting. "You're one to talk!" I scowled at him to cover my hurt feelings. "I seem to recall you laying some lip-locks on me with breath so foul, it smelled like an old lady fart passing through a clove of garlic," I snapped, sniffing indignantly. Okay, so yeah, that was a rather low blow on my side, but come on...I had just woken up. Did he really expect my breath to be all sunshine and daisies?
He made an impatient noise in the back of his throat that sounded like he was gargling marbles. "I'm not talking about your breath, Red." The way he spoke the words expressed all sorts of annoyance, and hinted at a smidgeon of an eye roll. Though, I'll give him credit, his sockets stayed steadily staring into mine. Kind of creepy if you ask me, just saying. "Though, I seem to remember things a little differently. If you would like me to refresh your memory of my kisses, I'll be happy to oblige."
My stomach rolled at the mere mention of his lips coming that close to mine. Shooting him a glare that should have burned off every last silky strand of hair from his obnoxious head, I snorted. "You really think I'm going to let you near me after you just accused me of having patchouli breath? Dream on, bucko," I told him, crossing my arms over my chest.
He chuckled, easing himself gracefully into a beautifully upholstered chair taking up residents next to the bed. He was dressed in his typical skirt lifter leather pants with a half buttoned, crisp white shirt tucked in around his lean waist, but, unlike me, when he sat not a creak of leather could be heard. The big jerk.
"Patchouli is a fragrance, like a perfume. It has a sweet, spicy aroma, with a hint of muskiness. It is an exotic smell which leaves an imprint on one's senses, hindering them." His eyes narrowed suspiciously at me, the smile on his face turning sour and brittle. "Its history dates back thousands of years. King Tut had gallons of the oil entombed with him upon his death, but mostly...it is associated with the marking scent of an incubus."
Though Fang had a beautiful speaking voice, seriously mesmerizing with that sexy hint of an accent, he was none the less...boring me to tears. I felt like I was back in school trying to not slip into a coma during Mr. Larson's history class. Letting out a yawn big enough to almost cause injury to myself, I stretched my hands high above my head, and wiggled my fingers in the air to let my vertebra pop back into place before dropping them listlessly back down by my sides. Weirdly, I felt tired. Not sleepy tired, necessarily, but totally drained kind of tired. The kind where I needed something that's more than coffee, but just a tad less than cocaine to wake up. Another yawn popped my jaw open wide enough to make it crack. Smacking my lips, I tried to guessitmate how long I had actually been sleeping by the size of the puddle of drool. Looking down, I noticed there wasn't a damp spot to be seen on the pillow. Huh...usually when I sleep that soundly, I drooled like a Saint Bernard spotting a steak.
I knew I had to have been really out of it to dream of Bob. But, then again, I did have a tendency to dream some really offbeat shit. One time, I dreamed of George Michael. He was dressed in stonewashed, tight blue jeans, a black leather jacket with his hair all feathered back into perfection, and wearing a pair of brown lensed aviator Ray-Ban sunglasses. In the dream, he was busily shuffling through my sock drawer, taking all my good socks. When I asked him what the hell he was doing, he turned to me and sang, "Cause I gotta have socks. I gotta have socks. Because I gotta have socks, socks. I gotta have socks, socks, socks." It took me weeks to get that dumb song out of my head.
"Red, are you listening to me?"
I lifted my eyes towards him, because, seriously, it was too much effort to physically turn my head. "Yeah, yeah, yeah...history...mummies...whatever," I grumbled, scratching my stomach. "If you expect me to listen to all your blah, blah, blah crapola, then you should have brought coffee."
His jaw tightened, and a little muscle in his cheek began to jump. "What do you feel when you look at me."
I pursed my lips, slowly letting my gaze wander over his body as sarcastically as I could possibly convey without saying anything. The intriguing air of danger that surrounded him as he blankly continued to observe me, made my stomach do an odd little dance. I didn't know if it was butterflies or if I just really needed to fart.
"I feel that you're the type of person who puts the toilet paper roll on in the under position."
His icicle eyes glittered at me as he pushed himself to his feet to tower over me. Menace rolled off him in waves, pushing me further back against the pillows. I tried to give him my patented just-kidding smile, but it worked about as well as a marshmallow trying to stop a Sherman tank. I didn't care that he was as mad as a man welding a fork in the world of soup, if he was fishing for compliments, he came to the wrong boat, baby.
"This is no time for games," he said in a growl that vibrated around the room. With a move that was too quick for me to follow, he snatched my arms and hauled me off the bed. Before I could utter a sound, he had me pinned against his chest, one hand clamping around my neck. "It's time for you to come back to me."
"Whatever dude. I'm right here," I retorted, wiggling against him. Although, I didn't really mind being smooshed up against him, because, let's face it, they guy was totally hot, and had a body with all kinds of hard lines. But, I certainly didn't appreciate being manhandled by a vampire who had suddenly turned up his crazy dial a few notches too many. "Let me go!"
"Not yet. Do you feel anything?" With a gentle touch which completely contradicted the threat in his voice and anger in his eyes, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, letting his fingertips drag down the side of my neck.
"Actually, yes I am." I paused for a moment in my useless struggles to smile up at him. "I'm feeling extraordinarily...annoyed," I said, not bothering to tone down the snark.
Leaning forward, he plastered his lips to mine. A small sizzle singed my mouth for a moment, as if I had touched the tip of my tongue to the prongs of a 9 volt battery. Don't judge me, you know you've done it too. But as quickly as the sensations came, it evaporated, leaving me feeling about as turned on as when someone spits in their hand to wipe a smudge of dirt off your face.
"What do you feel now, Red?" he rumbled, seemingly pleased with himself.
"That you seriously overestimate the power of your kissing ability." I sighed, and tried to push away from his chest. "As much fun as I am having feeding your hyperbole of an ego, and answering the same lame question a million times, would you please put me down?" A yawn stretched my jaw, and I flapped my hand in front of my mouth making it sound like an Indian war cry. "I'm tired and going back to bed. Unless you happen to have anything useful like a double-shot of expresso in your pockets, I'm going to take another nap."
"Dammit!" he muttered, running a hand through his hair. Sighing heavily, he looked down at me like I had just told him his favorite cat had died or something. Which, to be fair, is a distinct possibility around me given my history with felines. "Come on," he growled. "There's only one way to fix this."
"Fix wha..." My sentence was cut off as he spun around and jerked me towards the bathroom, dragging me the whole way until we stood in front of the gargantuan shower. "Get your hands off me you overgrown blood-binger!"
Despite my best efforts at pretending to know martial arts, or at the very least, attempting to hit him in his junk, I didn't succeed. My Jackie Chan moves where more like Hong Kong Phooey, and the smooth moving devil managed to evade every single punch, jab and kick I threw his way.
"Stop that!" I yelled, slapping his hands away as he started to undress me. "No! Hey! Stop...don't take that off! Rape! Help! Someone call 911!" No matter how much I screamed, or wailed, nothing stopped him from stripping me down to nothing but my bare essentials. The maniac even took off my shoes and threw them roughly in the corner. The barbarian!
"This is for your own good," he said between clenched teeth. Keeping a firm grip on my upper arm, he reached in and flipped the rainforest of shower heads on and thrust me unmercifully inside.
"Aaaaarrrggghhhh!" I sounded like a firetruck about to reach orgasm as a deluge of cold water cascaded over me making me gasp in shock. I clambered and clawed at the tiled walls trying to get away from the freezing spray, but it was no use. Artic water hit me from every angle imaginable. With my teeth chattering like an old IBM typewriter, I was about to call him every rotten name in my long list of rotten things to call people when an odd sensation hit me.
Sliding down to the shower floor, I landed on my ass with an undignified plop. I tried to shake my head to clear away the dizziness, but it only made things worse. I could hear Fang saying something, but he seemed to be miles away and I couldn't make it out over the roaring in my ears. Then...things got really freaky. I started to shake and tremble violently, as if I had swallowed a pound of Mexican jumping beans. It started at my feet, the tremors moving swiftly to my legs and then through the rest of my body faster than foreign water through a tourist. Before long, I was twitching and bouncing all over the place like a plastic game piece in Perfection when the time was up. Just when I didn't think things couldn't get much worse, my body started to smolder.
Plumes of grey, swirling tendrils of smoke erupted from every pore, until a cloud of it hung in the air. When the last wisp released out of me, I stopped flopping around like a fish out of water, and weakly scampered to the farthest corner of the shower. Shivering uncontrollably, I could do little more than whimper as I observed it twisting and turning as if it was searching for something before it evaporated in a mind-boggling puff. Leaving behind nothing more but a faint sweet, slightly spicy smell, and a haunting sound of deep island laughter.
"W...w...wha....what kind of freaky-deaky crap w...wa...was that?" I asked between the constant jackhammering of my teeth. The cold water was still blasting me in an icy gush, turning me a lovely shade of blue.
Fang leaned in and flicked off the freezing water, saving me from becoming a vampy popsicle. "That was the remnants of an influential curse from a powerful incubus." He shot me a disgusted look, before turning and collecting a towel the size of a comforter. With purposeful strides, he walked into the shower stall, and scooped me up against his chest while wrapping me up securely in the thick towel.
"Incubus?" I had a heck of time getting the word out from between my clacking teeth. Oh, the blessed warmth. Snuggling closer to his hot body heat, I burrowed my nose into the fluffy terry cloth. Breathing in the Downy freshness, I peeked over the edge up at him. "What's an incubus?" My voice came out muffled through the towel.
"An incubus or succubus, depending on the gender of the victim, are a small subset of vampires who are sexual energy feeders." He carried me back to the bedroom, and gently placed me back on the bed. "Incubus is the male version of this species," he said frowning down at me. "You've been touched by an incubi." Taking a seat back in the chair, he crossed one leg over the other and continued to watch me thoughtfully.
I shuddered hard under the towel, and not just from the damn near subzero shower. "But...but incubus-susses aren't real!" I sputtered, finally able to articulate full sentences without fear of biting off my tongue.
Fang snorted. "It's incubi. Incubus is the plural form," he corrected. "And they are indeed...very real."
"They can't be," I whined, slumping against the pillows.
"You didn't know vampires were real until you became one, did you?" He cocked an annoying brow at me. "This isn't something you can ignore and wish away, Red. You are in mortal danger."
A giggle of semi-hysterical laughter escaped my lips. "When am I not in mortal danger?" I asked, my voice rising to a panic-stricken squeak. Was he kidding me? Since the moment I got jabbed in the ass by a mad scientist in the middle of the mall food court, my life had become one constant brush with death after another. Seriously, at this point, I was one ominous warning away from having a full-blown nervous breakdown on an epic scale unlike anything ever seen before. "What would an incubus want with me anyway?"
"Incubi," he corrected again as he pushed himself to his feet, and started pacing around the room. "I am not certain why one has chosen you. They feed off sexual energy, the way a vampire feeds from blood. Generally speaking, they can receive their sustenance from sexual tension, or the energy created by sexual activity. But, in most cases, many prefer engaging in sexual acts with the victim while they feed."
Every time he said the word "sexual", my body did a delightful mini shimmy shake. Biting my lip to keep from moaning, I tried to focus on what he was saying. "But I haven't had...um...," I ducked my head, "you know...sex." I could feel my face turn a bright crimson, and I was surprised I didn't burst into flame.
Fang spun around on his heel, and pinned me with a laser beam glare. "Nobody knows that better than I," he growled. "But, in this case, consider yourself lucky. Sex with an incubi will result in the quick deterioration of your health, or even death. It's why you are feeling drained of energy."
He wasn't kidding about that. Though the wintry shower had perked me up some, I still felt unbelievably worn-out. "What was with the I Dream of Jeannie special effects?"
"Excuse me?" Fang looked at me as if I had spoken gibberish.
Rolling my eyes, I added yet another classic sitcom to the long list of crap he needed to catchup on. "The smoke. What was up with the smoke?"
"Incubi can turn into any form they choose, including smoke. It's how they are able to enter the victim's room. By turning into a mist, they can obtain entrance through the smallest cracks or keyholes."
Suddenly, I was picturing Bob in a blonde Barbara Eden wig and harem pants. "Is that how he got to me?"
Fang shook his head. "This compound is impenetrable. I vampire cannot ghost their way in nor could a low-level incubi enter without setting off security alarms, especially in the King's chambers." He let out a heavy sigh. "No, this incubi is old...and powerful. They possess the ability to control their victim through dreams." He lifted his eyes to meet mine, his filled with worry. "Which means, if he has set his sights on you, he is capable of spiriting you off at his leisure."
"Holy Moses on a pogo stick!" I threw my arm over my eyes dramatically. "What does he want with me?" The sound of adolescent male chuckling made me groan. "I know what he wants," I hissed. "But why does he want me specifically?" A thought suddenly occurred to me, and I jerked upright. "What if he comes and gets me now...when I'm all weak and stuff?"
"Relax, Red. He can only come to you in your dreams."
"Oh, that's really comforting," I groused, crossing my arms over my chest. Though I was beyond tired, any idea of taking a nap swiftly became very unappealing thanks to that little newsflash.
I felt the bed dip down from Fang easing himself next to me. "We will figure this out, I swear it." I felt his hand capture mine, entwining our fingers together. "I will not abandon you." Bringing our connected hands up to his mouth, he placed a lingering kiss on my knuckles. "We are not without hope. It appears you are somewhat immune to the incubi's powers."
A rush of heat flooded through me, and I found myself no longer cold. "I...I am?" I swallowed hard. The more Fang spoke, the more his voice danced along my sensitive skin. It seemed the last of whatever spell I had been under had finally evaporated, and my body was going back to its formerly scheduled programming of wanting to have the kind of sex with him that sounded like mac and cheese being stirred.
"You did not succumb to his charms," he said, smiling down at me wide enough I could see the points of his fangs. "That was a very potent incantation he had placed over you, it should have been unbreakable. No one, not even I, could resist the call of an ancient incubus." Cocking his head to the side, he looked down at me puzzled. A little line of confusion marred his perfect forehead, and I wanted to run my tongue through the crease. "Are you feeling all right?"
Everything inside me was firing back to life. Zinging, buzzing, clanging, and lighting up like a pinball machine about to hit tilt.
"You're alive," I said, awe filling my voice as the realization finally hit me.
He looked as if he was taken aback for a moment, but then his eyes grew warm. "Indeed, I am," he chuckled. "Thanks to you." His voice was better than I remembered, profound and rich, and soft as silk.
I shivered as I received a full undiluted shot of the sound mixed with his glowing gaze. "I thought you were going to die."
"For a moment...so did I." He moved closer, and every nerve ending in my body screamed out a mighty hallelujah to the heavens. "Your blood saved me." Without taking his piercing stare from mine, he opened his shirt, showing me his chest. Right there, just above his heart, was a small, pink, puckered scar. The only trace left of Druilla's arrow.
I tried to keep my thoughts as pure as the snow, but they drifted. They drifted in an I-want-to-experiment-with-duct-tape-and-peanut-butter sort of way. A low growl vibrated up my throat, and before I could stop myself, I was on top of him, fitting all my soft curves into the hard planes of his body. It was like laying on top of a hot, sexy, great-smelling chunk of cement warmed by the sun, but I loved how it felt. The luminosity of my eyes shined down on his gorgeous face, washing him in a green glow. I was unable to look away...unable to think...as I stared into his radiant eyes, seeing the flickering of his desire burning deep within the depths.
"Welcome back, moya solnishka," he purred, his hand slipping up my bare arms, causing me to shudder and him to groan.
I leaned closer to catch the wonderful earthy scent that always clung to him. As I did, my fingers did a little naughty traveling of their own. He hissed and closed his eyes as I glided my hands down the smooth contours of his chest, swirling lower and lower beneath the material of his shirt. His stomach contracted hard as if he was doing a crunch when I teasingly swept them along the waistband of his leathers.
With a sexy snarl, he cupped my face and roughly tugged my mouth to his. Then...his lips were covering mine. Our tongues greedily wrestled with one another while he pressed me tighter against him. The coolness of my still soggy bra and underwear were a relief against the heat building inside. A small, virtually impossible to notice, warning invaded my mind, but it was quickly consumed by the fire blazing between us, and I was glad. I was tired. Tired of fighting my attraction to him. Tired of pretending I didn't almost dissolve into a puddle of goo at his smiles. Tired of denying I wanted to have more sex with him than rabbits during mating season.
I had been aching for this. Dying to touch him, kiss him, and taste him. My breathing became choppy, my pulse skyrocketing into a frenzied pace while my hands moved frantically over his chest, across his shoulders...getting tangled up in his damn shirt. With a hiss of impatience's, I shredded the thing off his body like a cat attacking a set of drapes. Bits of tattered material floated around us like snowflakes.
"I have dreamed of this moment," he groaned. "I feared it would never come. That I would never hear the words..."
"Your Majesty! Ve need you desperately!"
Yelping in surprise by the unexpected third party uninvited voice, I shoved myself off Fang as if I had been burned. In my haste, I accidently threw myself off the side of the bed, and landed on my back like a stunned beetle.
A very out of breath twin from the Swedish fish twosome came barreling into the room, almost falling flat on his face in his haste to stop when he saw what he had interrupted. Quickly, he slapped a palm over his eyes, his pale face blazing with as much mortification as mine.
"I...um...I'm sorry, you Majesties," he panted. "I vas told to come and fetch his Majesty immediately."
"Who sent you," Fang bellowed, peeling me off the floor, and throwing the forgotten towel over my semi-naked body. Turning, he loomed over the still self-blinded Olaf...or Sven. Seriously, I needed to remember to get name tags for those two.
"Sinclair, your Majesty. He fears dat Dr. Kleinrosebroom is near death!"
Author's Note:
Hello my FANGED Fiends!
I know, it's incredibly late, but hey...it's still FANGED Friday where I'm from. :)
Now...before you all get pissy with me over the fact they were interrupted in mid-coitus once again, I need to remind you this story has a lot of younger readers following along and it is NOT rated Mature. But, never fear, I have finally decided when they do...ahem...do it...then I will set that chapter to private. I will give you plenty of warning beforehand. Unfortunately, do to Wattpad rules, the only way you will be able to see it, is if you follow me. Yeah, I know...but those are the rules.
Anyway, now that's out of the way, if you enjoyed this latest installment of FANGED, please consider giving it a vote. I always enjoy your comments, so keep them coming.
If you don't see any updates here, feel free to check out my other works Bending Steele, When Roses Collide and Steal You Away.
As always, thank you for reading!
Sincerely,
K