Damphir - 9. Chapter 9

Taken by surprise, Sartorian falls backwards under my assault and we roll off the bed. Unfortunately, during the roll he somehow twists around and lands on top of me. Fireworks burst in front of my eyes as the breath is forced from my lungs and the still sore aripa caz complains loudly. Aw, aw, aw.

I try my very best to throw him off but he has the advantage and easily pins me down.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing you little wild cat? Keep still will you? I don’t have a problem with who you screw, that’s up to you. I’m not keeping you here to be a convenient fuck when I come home; and you are NOT my whore.”

“Then what the fuck is going on? Tell me the truth.” I practically scream in his face and an uncomfortable look creeps across his features. I know for sure that he isn't going to tell me the truth. How the hell did we get from the sweetness in the bathroom to this? Maybe it was my fault.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know? I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know why I brought you here or what happens next. I just don’t know.” Now he’s the one who’s practically spitting in my face.

“That’s not good enough. Maybe it is for the great Sartorian, master of the world: you don’t have to worry about the future: you don’t have to care about how it works out BUT I DO. So if you don’t know what’s going on you had better fucking work it out soon.”

“Do you think I haven't been trying? Do you think I have thought of one other thing since the night we met?”

“Oh well that makes everything alright doesn’t it?”

Having stopped struggling while I shouted at him I hope I have lulled him into a false sense of security... now’s the time to test whether I succeeded. Hopefully he won’t appreciate the fact that I am a lot stronger than I was last time and that he won't expect... this.

Wrapping my tail around his neck I yank it back while I throw myself to one side and slash at him with my claws. He topples over and I spring to my feet. He isn’t far behind me and I notice that he is bleeding from claw marks which have slashed his shirt from collar to ribs.

“If you don’t know what you want with me then let me go and...”

“Fucking bitch. I do my best for you and this is how you repay me?” He runs his hand across the slashes and stares at the blood on his fingers. I think his shirt is silk. It clings to him in places and gently flares in others; it’s matt surface looking soft and… well, silky. I long to touch it; to rub my cheek in it and inhale deeply the wonderful scent that is assaulting my sensitive nose. There is a moment when I almost do that.

The world around me is soft and indistinct. Cat is hissing and spitting, his hackles well and truly risen and his tail thrashing. Vamp, of course is far too proud to allow himself to do anything but face Sar down and defend his corner. Human doesn’t give a crap, but fey… fey is… There is the strangest feeling inside me, almost lifting me off my feet. It’s like soft fingers running over my back; over my… Uh oh, stop thinking about that. I fight down the feeling and it hovers in the centre of my being; a core of marshmallow that is muffling my mind and dampening my fire.

I falter and blink, drawing back a little… and then Sar gives me his stupid, patronising sneer and the marshmallow turns to flint.

“I didn’t ask you to save me. I didn’t want your fucking charity. I owe you nothing.”

“You owe me your life.”

“It’s MY life and you didn’t give me any choices. I don’t owe you ANYTHING.”

“Like fuck you don’t.” Now it’s me that’s caught unprepared. He moves so fast he blurs and his grip on my wrist hurts.

“Let me go. Let me go you bastard. Let me...” My words are cut off by his lips and, although he still grips my wrist with one hand, his other holds me gently and closely against him. “Mmmpfh.” I try to continue my tirade but I can't. I’m too lost in the kiss.

“God you drive me insane,” Sartorian murmurs against my lips, “like a drug. I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help myself.”

He’s not the only one. All my instincts are telling me to run but as long as his lips are touching mine, his hand is in the small of my back, his scent is in my nostrils, his heart is next to mine... I’m lost. I’m so lost.

Ooooh... Ooooh... he’s kissing my cheek, moving towards my...my... “Oooh.” My head falls back as he sucks on my earlobe. Little whimpers join the deep purrs that rumble in my chest.

“You’re so... so... Oh fuck you’re so sexy.” Still nibbling my ear he scoops me up in his arms and deposits me gently on the bed. This time he doesn’t give me a chance to change my mind and lies down next to me; half on top of me if we’re being exact. But I’m not being exact at all. My mind is lost in the thrill of his actions and cat is well and truly to the fore. Cat, unfortunately, is a complete slut and is throwing himself into this with indecent enthusiasm.

Sartorian is clearly a skilled lover and, even when he stops nibbling my ear he has me writhing and moaning under him in no time. My breathing increases in speed and heaviness especially when his hand finds its way to my crotch and starts massaging me through my trousers. The soft leather slides over my hot skin making me moan and lose focus.

Nudging my legs apart he shifts position so he is between them and bends over to flick at my nipples with his tongue. This time I’m clawing his back in a completely different way and he seems to like it. I can feel his heart beating and the vamp in me can smell the blood racing around his body. I can smell his arousal too, the hot saltiness of his body as it prepares for the experience we are rushing towards with almost unstoppable speed.

And then of course he has to go and spoil it all. Licking his way up from my nipple to my throat he bites me lightly and something inside my head says ‘No’. I wriggle under him but he thinks it’s with passion.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Glory, you smell... you smell so... so... I can't resist. You drive me insane. I’ve been afraid of it, so uncertain, but now I know; I know beyond doubt that this was meant to be.”

“Not this... not this.”

I gasp and squirm as his massaging of my crotch changes dimension when he slides his hand down inside my trousers. Oh fuck, oh fuck that feels good, so good. “Oh... oh... no... no... no... don’t...don’t...”

Bastard; he does. “Aargh... no... no. Get off; get out of me you bastard. Get out, get out.”

I know what it’s like when you bite. Initially there is a moment of pure intoxication before the real frenzy hits. I make the most of it and punch him as hard as I can to the side of his head, claws out. He releases me but doesn’t get off as I’d hoped. For a moment he rears over me, his eyes burning and I face him with equal intensity.

“Get the fuck off me. How dare you bite me! How dare you! I said no, you bastard. You just don’t do that.”

Sartorian continues to stare with glazed eyes, his fangs extended, blood staining his lips; my blood. “Get OFF me.” I slash at him with my claws but, before they connect he grabs my wrist and growls. And then... “No... no you bastard. Stop... stop...”

It hurts when he bites my wrist. It hurts more than when he bit my neck. Pulling on it only makes it hurt more but I am fucked if I will let him feed from me. I bring my other hand up and claw at the back of his neck making him lift his head. And then he hits me. It was totally unexpected and I gasp with shock as blood from a cut on my lip, made by my teeth, fills my mouth. That hurt. That really, really hurt. I’m in shock, I can’t speak. That was the last thing I expected. He hit me. He HIT me.

And then he does it again and I see stars. Goddamit I am not going to lie here and let him beat me up. He’s lowering his head again. He’s going to bite my neck. No way. No way am I going to let him do that.

Raising my legs I lock them around his body and thrust upwards with my hips giving me more leverage when I throw myself to one side, slashing across his face with my claws again. Caught off balance he falls sideways and I help him with a kick. This time I’m on top and he’s the one who’s winded.

Feeling battered but resolute I leap off him and onto my feet. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Leave me alone you bastard. One minute you’re kissing me and the next you’re hitting me. Just get away and leave me the hell al...”

I forgot how fast he is. I try to bolt for the door but he’s got my wrist again and he swings me round with the intention of trapping me in his arms but I’m having none of that. As I come round I knee him hard between the legs. Roaring with pain he flings me away from him and I fly backwards. I try to twist, to save myself but it’s too fast and too hard and before I know it I slam into the bedpost and connect with it all the way down my back.

There is no way to describe the pain. It fills me and possesses me. The only other pain that was anything like this was when I damaged my wing in the woods. Of course; that’s it. My wing is not fully healed and I hit the bedpost pretty much bang in the middle of my aripa caz. But that isn't the end of it. There in an intense burning pain in my side that I am quite familiar with. The bastard broke my rib.

I so want to claw his eyes out but I can’t move. I’ve landed in a crumpled heap face down on the floor and I couldn’t move if my life depended on it. I can hardly breathe. The pain is all consuming and I don’t know what to do. As much as I hate to show weakness in front of him tears are streaming down my face and keening noises bubble from my throat. A small part of me that is still capable of thought realises that the blow to my back brought fey out and the noises are his.

I am aware that Sartorian is standing over me and shouting at me but it’s not so much that I don’t hear what he is saying as I simply don’t care. I care when he grabs me by the shoulders and yanks me up into a roughly sitting position, though.

“Stop grovelling on the floor like a spoiled child. Get up and... Glory?”

I don’t lose consciousness, but it’s pretty damn close. Dammit, I can’t stop crying. Spoiled child? No way am I going to let him think that. I struggle to rise but it’s not happening; the pain is too fierce. “Glory, what’s wrong?”

His voice is not angry any more. It’s concerned; even frightened. Good, let the bastard worry. Maybe he’ll explode with it. Maybe he’ll... “Aah no... no don’t touch me, don’t...” But it’s too late. Sar sweeps me up in his arms and that was it. My body gives up and throws me off the edge of consciousness. Here we go again. How many more times?

“What the hell did you think you were doing? You could have killed him.”

“It’s as much his fault as mine. He’s impossible.”

“He’s a child, Sartorian. Maybe not in age, and he’s been on the run all his life so he knows how to fight, but he has no experience of relationships. He was snatched off the streets, the only home he knows. I know...” Fougue held up his hand to ward off Sartorian’s exclamation. “I know it’s no kind of home but it’s the only home he knows, and you took him away from it. Alright, I understand that you saved his life but you confused the hell out of him with your behaviour, took him out of his comfort zone and then just left him here. What did you expect? That he would say ‘thank you sir; your wish is my command’? Don’t forget he’s part vampire and far too proud for that.”

“He said I made him feel like a whore.”

“Isn’t that pretty much what you expected him to be?”

“What? No! No, of course not.”

“Sartorian. You abandon him for almost a week, then you come back, give him clothes to wear that make him look like a tart and don’t even wait until he’s fully dressed before you try to take him. I presume that’s what happened.”

Sartorian turned his face away. “He wasn’t complaining by the end.”

“Clearly, he was.”

“He took offence to me biting him.”

“Biting him? Vampire biting him?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how stupid that was.”

“I...”

“Sar, you can’t do this to him anymore. You really hurt him and it could have been so much worse.”

“Is he going to be alright?” he asked anxiously.

“It’s a bit late to worry about that now isn't it?”

“Fougue...”

“Yes, he’s alright; at least as alright as he can be in the circumstances. His wing was damaged already and you haven't done it any good at all. He can’t manifest it so I can’t tell how bad the damage is but it’s not so painful now and that’s a good sign. He hasn’t broken his rib, but it is cracked and he’s going to be in a lot of pain for a while. He seems to heal very quickly but it’s still going to be a few weeks before he’s completely sound again.”

“That’s good.”

“How did he get the cut lip and bruises on his cheek? That wasn't the fall.”

“No. I... I’m... He’s so infuriating, Fougue. I try to be patient with him but he’s so confrontational. I try to talk to him and it turns to accusations. I try to touch him and he responds and then withdraws. He fights me at every turn and I just can’t get the measure of him.”

“Then you had better get the measure of him Sartorian, preferably before you kill him.”

“I would never do that.” He snapped.

“You came damn close tonight Sartorian. If he’d landed differently he could easily have broken his neck.”

“I... Ah shit. What am I going to do, Fougue? It’s way too late to turn back, to even try to break the bond. He makes me crazy but... He possesses me. I dream of him, I think of him every spare moment of the day. And when I hold him in my arms...”

“This is very unwise, Sartorian. He’s too young: too inexperienced.”

“He was experienced enough to take on the wolf,” he snapped.

“Rover is his friend. He was the first person in the house he trusted. He felt safe with him. Besides, Rover loves him and he knows it.”

“But I... I...”

“No, Sartorian, you don’t love him. You have imprinted, been bonded to him in ways that are unbreakable and undeniable... but you don’t know him and you certainly don’t love him. If you did you would never have hurt him like this.”

“He wants the truth, Fougue. He wants to know what happens next, what I intend for him and he won’t accept when I say I don’t know.”

“Sartorian, what the hell do you expect of the boy? He’s incredibly vulnerable, especially after what happened with Valentine. Rover is the only person he trusts, his only friend and you swan in and expect him to throw himself at your feet... it’s not going to happen.”

“But he... he responded.”

“Of course he responded. He’s as imprinted as you are; as much subject to the bonding... but he doesn’t know what it is, what it means. He is filled with feelings and emotions he doesn’t understand and is fighting against. You have to back off and give the boy some space, slow it down and above all be totally honest with him as far as you can. He will accept that you don’t know what happens next IF you are honest about what has happened so far, about the way you feel about him.”

“How can I tell him about the bond when he is already fighting me like this?”

“Part of what he is fighting is the fact that he doesn’t know what’s happening and what is going to happen. You owe him an explanation of as much of it as you can. Then he can decide what he wants to do and you can decide what you want to do... but it will all be in full knowledge. It’s the only way. As long as you keep things from him he will know and he won’t trust you.”

Sartorian sighed deeply and shook his head. Striding past his friend and into the bedroom he paused at the side of the bed. Glory was asleep, his hair spread out, silver and black; his lips bruised from kissing and the blow which had split one. Bruises were already coming out on his cheek and around his eye and there were bandages around his chest holding a poultice in place over his aripa caz.

Slowly he reached out his hand and touched the pale cheek. Glory stirred and sighed. For a moment the lashes fluttered and Sartorian was blessed with a flash of silver. Incredibly, on seeing him Glory smiled and then slipped away again. Gently Sartorian bent down and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you,” he whispered softly; so softly that no one, even Glory heard him. Then he turned and strode from the room and from the house.