Page 7 of Harbingers

Wrapping my arm around his shoulder, I bring him toward me, giving a half-hug but leaning down to whisper in his ear, “Do I need to tie you the fuck up and take everything from you? Push you to the limit until you’re a drooling, mumbling mess underneath me?”

His shivers tell me my words hit their intended target. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Khi needs to be deprived of everything until every sense and thought he possesses is solely focused on me and the pain I cause him.

The tension grows as the night goes on and it crackles between us. Our obsessions and deep desires meshing into a volatile mix that we cannot ignore.

It’s been a while since our last kill, and the bodies in the basement of Westin Hills did nothing but incite us further. The bodies were sloppy and unrefined. No art to be had, just wastefully throwing them down there. Useful not to get caught, but predictably boring.

Slowly, and without meaning to, our conversation shifts, veering off into talking about our childhood, or some warped version of it. Some tale we’ve spun as Julian and Adrian about how our parents were loving and caring. Showed up to every back-to-school night and always had a home-cooked meal.

Spinning back to reality that is more accurate and how they tragically died years ago when a home burglary went awry, and that’s what sparked our descent into the lives we currently lead.

A vulnerability undercurrent leaks out thinking about the what-ifs of aperfectupbringing. Something we were never destined to have, not in this life or any other.

The death of our parents is at least pure fact, no fiction in sight on that one.

It snapped any remaining control we had on our lunacy.

The way Khi’s eyes linger on mine, along with the subtle brush of his fingers against my own as he reaches for his drink, needs no explanation. Soon. He’s ready for us to leave soon and to fuck. Imagining sinking into his tight, lithe body has my cock starting to grow beneath the dark denim encasing it.

Generally, I keep a tight rein on my desire while in public, so I’m not popping wood every time I look at him, but tonight is proving to be a test of my restraint.

“So, brother, do I get to fuck you tonight?” Khi quips at me, that damn half-smirk on his face.

He’s asked countless times and is relentless in his inquiry. I have no qualms about letting him fuck me. Sex is sex whether I’m penetrating or being penetrated. My thrill comes solely from denying him.

“You haven’t earned it, and judging by the way you’ve been acting lately, you’ve got a long road until you even get close. But I do need a good fucking. Maybe there is someone here I can pull into the bathroom quickly. I’ll even let you watch.” Dark desire bleeds out of his eyes immediately. That blue-green turning until he looks almost demonic.

I’ve never mentioned another before, but with our connection, I can tell he’s both intrigued and homicidal. Youngest child syndrome rearing its head. Khi thinks everything and anything should belong to him.

The last call chimes from the petite, fiery woman who's been giving us suggestive glances all night. It's as if she wants to be the filling in this particular sandwich. The thought crossed my mind once, but only on the condition that she doesn't lay a finger onJulian. But just as fast as I thought it, I knew that I couldn’t do it even with that condition. No one touches him but me, but the little brat would lose his mind so there’s no point in entertaining the thought past the fleeting trek it streaks.

The night draws to a close, and we get up to part ways with the stools attached to our asses, and glancing at each other, I see a reflection of my own desire and yearning.

We step out of the creaky, weathered door and into the relentless sheets of rain that have been pouring down since hours earlier. We walk side by side, unshielded from the elements. No coats, no umbrellas. Just my hand on the small of his back, guiding him as I always have, and as I always will.

I’m only happy when it rains, and luckily for me, my brother feels the exact same.

CHAPTER4

KHI

“Where are you, baby boy? Come out, come out wherever you are.” Dominic’s stern and mocking voice vibrates throughout the woods of our home.

The first thing Dom did when our parents died was collect money from a life insurance policy and buy this big ass house with some land. It looks like a goddamn gothic haunted house, and it breathes life into me every time we pull up. I questioned him about the policy because that was so unlike something they would do, but he just shrugged at me and told me he’s been playing chess, and everyone else plays checkers. I decided it really didn’t matter how or why, just like Dom sweet-talked the courts into letting him be my guardian.

I just know violence was involved, somehow. There’s no way an unemployed eighteen-year-old would get custody of a minor, even if it was his teenage brother.

The moon is bright in the night sky, casting a glow over the wooden landscape anywhere it can. The soil is damp from the rain, and the earthy smell invades my nose and takes root, and I inhale deeply. Dirt and water. Two elements that are continuous and I can always count on.

I move as silently as possible, trying to avoid Dom as he tracks me. Like a predator and its prey, but this prize wants to be captured. He’ll make me hurt, and then he’ll make me hum.

“Come on, little tulip. I’ll pluck your petals and make you tell me all your truths. One by one until you and they both lay at my feet.” His voice is velvety and coaxing, and part of me wants to give in now, but I keep pushing through the thick, damp foliage.

It feels like an hour goes by, but in reality, it’s only another five minutes or so before I come upon the old, decrepit crypt of the family that used to own these lands. Its crumbling walls lay spread out while a lone tombstone is set away from the crypt. Someone wasn’t worthy to be laid to rest with the others. How fucking tragic.

I can feel him emerge from the shadows as I look at the destroyed graves. His presence is a commanding force that draws my attention away from what’s in front of me until I am zeroing in on where he’s standing. Shrouded in darkness and shadows, small streams of pale moonlight dance across his face here and there.

"Malakhi." Dominic's voice is a low murmur infused with an intoxicating blend of intrigue and anticipation.

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