Page 75 of Heathens

There’s sadness in his eyes.

“Do you live in a cage, little dove?”

He takes my hand and leads me toward a set of beautiful french doors that open onto the large balcony. The moon hangs high in the sky, giving off a vibrant silver glow. Sometimes I catch it in the daylight, or in the midst of the odd run to the Blood Bank. RarelyI spot its reflection in the window during a shift. It’s like a ghost in my life, always in the corner of my eye. I wonder if Dominic feels the same about the sun.

I lean up against the massive stone wall and look out at a landscape that’s long since lost its warm familiarity. There used to be beach parties with massive bonfires and dancing. People wandered around with portable radios at night, and there was always laughter in the air. The Santa Cruz of today is a hollowed out husk of its former self.

Dominic’s arm wraps around my waist, his free hand pushing my hair to the side, pulling the strap of my dress down as he lays kisses along my back.

“What do you think?” He asks.

“It really is beautiful.”

He sucks on the side of my neck, surely leaving a dark bruise behind as his hand travels upward to cup my breast.

“When’s the last time you saw the sun?” I ask.

“October 25th, 1851. I was 34.”

He didn’t even hesitate.

“Do you miss it?”

Everything comes to a stop, and he nods. His hands linger on my body, unmoving, holding me like I’m all the warmth he’s lost over the years. I look back to see him staring up at the moon, sadness eclipsing his eyes.

“I don’t know how much you can miss something you barely remember.”

He’s reliving nearly three lifetimes right in front of me. I wonder what he’s seen, how many people he’s lost, how many he’s loved over his 170 years on the earth.

“Who… who turned you?”

I think I know the answer, but I need to know for sure.

“I’d been working for him since I was a teenager.” His hands move up and down my body again, almost absentmindedly. “I was so happy the day he turned me. I was dying.”

“Of what?”

“Cancer. Rene gave me a gift.”

“Is that what it is? A gift?”

“Yes,” he breathes. “And you get a hell of a lot from it.”

“Like what?”

He groans against me, and I can feel him smile against my skin, followed by the gentle nick of a razor-sharp fang.

“Life. Power in the palm of your hand.” His hands glide over my breasts and I shiver. “I think it must be what God feels like.”

Fire burns deep and low in my belly, and my knees are shaking as I hold onto the concrete wall with everything I have.

“I need to fuck you,” he begs.

One of his hands slides down, pushing my dress up my thigh as he grinds his cock into my ass. A soft growl ripples through me as his fingers glide along the hem of my panties. I spread my legs a little wider, arching my back as he flicks his tongue along my neck.

Suddenly, the knife attached to my thigh is dangling in front of me. Panic surges through my body; I got so caught up in the moment I didn’t even notice him remove it from its hiding place.

“You still don’t trust me.” He mutters, kissing my shoulder gently.

---