Chapter the Fifth: In which our heroine forgets previous events.
“Blakey-boy never told you the story?” Dorian smiled. I shook my head. He was still holding me, and I didn’t trust my voice. “This is my owl. I caught her in the woods in my fourth year, but a few weeks later realised there was no way I could keep her in my dorm. She ate constantly, not only what she could hunt, but rampaging round the kitchen after hours and scoffing any scraps I brought back from meals. My friend Julio christened her; he used to do the most hilarious impression.” The vampire chuckled, white teeth showing. “He hopped round and round my room, flapping his elbows and pretending to eat dressers and clothes and bedposts, all the while squawking ‘Quisiera comida! Quisiera comida!’ The name stuck, but we shortened it when we made her the room up here.”
I only had rudimentary Spanish from my mother (she was determined I’d be tri-lingual by the age of six), but I managed to piece together - “I want food!”
“A please wouldn’t go amiss, Evee,” Dorian chided playfully. “Devil, if only you were a bat, I could show you a good time…” He trailed off regretfully, but I was indignant.
“What’s wrong with witches?” I demanded, but he batted away my outrage and slipped one hand into my skirt pocket.
He made an inquisitive noise, between a ‘hmm’ and an ‘oh’, as I wrenched myself backwards, shocked. My charm was dangling from his slender fingers, and he held it up to the light.
“I knew you’d have one of these. You seem sensible enough. Maybe you don’t need to be a bat after all…”
He slipped the charm over my head, trailing his fingers down my neck softly. I caught his hand in mine as he reached my collarbone and put it back by his side, then did the same to the hand that was still on my right hip. Dorian merely raised his eyebrows and picked up my hands instead, quirking his lips as he placed them. He gave a tug on my belt loops so I took an involuntary step forward, and whispered: “Finished…”
He’d positioned me just like a child would a doll with moveable parts; I was back in the circle of his arms again, but this time, I had one hand round his waist, one on the back of his neck, and I was stuck.
“Stop playing with me, Dorian.” I prayed he wouldn’t hear the drumbeat currently thudding out of my veins. Well, it was more likely he’d feel it, with the way he had me standing. I attempted to move, but my actions were limited; I could indeed move my hands, but not away from him. And I was joking about him being magnetic.
“I like playing with you. You’re cute.” He adjusted his stance, proving my wriggling even more inefficient. What was it with today and being manhandled by members of the Callahan family?
“But enough.” I’m not sure exactly what happened to Dorian’s voice. None of the humour left, but something caused me to look up again, instead of staring beseechingly at Quiz for help. “That’s more like it.” And oh-so-quickly, he brought his lips down to mine, for just a second, and took them away again. I stopped struggling, eyes wide. He chuckled again, and I felt the reverberations in my ribcage.
He kissed me again, deeper, longer this time. I responded just as ardently. I don’t know why. You know - a stranger starts getting way too friendly; a normal reaction would be at least a shove. But I was captivated. I wanted the kiss. It was better than kissing Blake, anyway, or at least I told myself it was, in light of recent events. I gave an unconscious mew as he pulled away.
“Want something better?” Better? My world was spinning as it was, filled with blue eyes and raven hair and blood red lips. Dorian grinned, and began to undo the top button of my shirt, kissing his way down my neck as he did so. I’d like to say I resisted, that I defended my maidenly honour and pushed him away, but I didn’t. There were no consequences in my head, only the moment. I inhaled deeply and he returned to my lips, finishing the last button. I shrugged it onto the floor and reached up bare-shouldered to undo his tie, discarding that too. My cami and his grey shirt joined the growing heap of haberdashery; I wriggled out of my skirt and started to loosen his belt.
“Now hold up there, sweetie,” he said in an undertone. “You sure?” I just nodded. Was I going to say no? Seriously? With his deliciously cool hands exploring the curves of my shoulder blades, and sliding down ever so slightly to unhook the clasp of my bra?
Dorian moved his mouth down my neck again, this time on the side that Blake had used, and I felt a slight twinge as his lips ran over the wound. “Oh,” he murmured, “You’ve been used recently…” And he sank his teeth into my skin, into the channels already made by his little brother. I felt dizzy, mind and sight cloudy with heady feeling. He stepped out of his trousers, exploiting the forward motion to push me back onto the bench where I’d sat with Quiz.
Despite the haze of passion, I found enough brain cells to defend Blake. “Blake doesn’t use me! He drinks, but he doesn’t use me.” Dorian shushed me with another kiss. I acquiesced.
“Unlike you, brother.” Every word was filled with spite. Dorian lifted his mouth from mine to glare in the direction of the stairs, where the interruption had come from. Blake stood, barely visible in the dimness, but visibly furious. I shrank back onto the bench, scared. The last time I saw Blake this angry, I had to talk him out of throttling a third year. I dreaded to think what was going to happen to me!
Dorian just laughed again, utterly unfazed. “Wait here,” he muttered against my mouth and rose to stand opposite Blake. Even in only his boxers, he seemed more collected and sophisticated than his brother, who was playing the hero card for all it was worth.
“You worthless playboy. So you’re back, are you? What right do you have to be treating Evee like that?” Blake’s eyes blazed. I sat up on my elbows, as Dorian shook his head.
“Like what, Blakey-boy? Like she wants?” Blake took a step forward, fists clenching, then seemed to think better of it. “ My life is none of your business, and it seems like hers could be better without you. Now, have you finished your little rant? Because in that case you can leave us to it.” He raised his eyebrows pointedly.
Blake just ignored him, and walked over to me. I was more self-conscious now, and I curled my arms protectively across my body; I know Blake had seen me with less on than my underwear, but this was different, somehow.
“Are you okay, Eev? What’d he do to you?”
“Nothing I didn’t ask him to! You never could mind your own business, could you? Why don’t you just go, Blake? Go and see Nick, or Venexia, or one of your other whores!” He recoiled as if I’d hit him. The fury in his eyes was replaced with hurt, but he stood up so quickly I wasn’t sure if I’d seen right. He strode over to Dorian and spoke coldly and quietly: “You don’t belong here, brother. I wouldn’t make any long term plans.”
He left. I watched his figure descend the staircase, then sat up and turned to Dorian, who was gazing at me in a frankly lecherous way. I wished I was wearing nicer underwear.
“Well,” Dorian said. “I guess after that little outburst, I’d better go make sure there’s no garlic in my bed.” His lips quirked again. Devil, he was handsome.
He bent to whisper in my ear as he crossed to the window. “If you can deal with that (a jerk of his head towards the stairs), you might want to leave your window open tonight…”
Standing now on the stone windowsill, a shadow against the light like the first time I saw him, he smiled. “I had fun today. Shame we got cut short...” A wink, and he jumped.
I rushed to the window, but there was nothing save an echo of his cynical silver laugh.
This is all my own work, so any mistakes are mine. The plot, characters, and actual text all belong to me as the author.
I only had rudimentary Spanish from my mother (she was determined I’d be tri-lingual by the age of six), but I managed to piece together - “I want food!”
“A please wouldn’t go amiss, Evee,” Dorian chided playfully. “Devil, if only you were a bat, I could show you a good time…” He trailed off regretfully, but I was indignant.
“What’s wrong with witches?” I demanded, but he batted away my outrage and slipped one hand into my skirt pocket.
He made an inquisitive noise, between a ‘hmm’ and an ‘oh’, as I wrenched myself backwards, shocked. My charm was dangling from his slender fingers, and he held it up to the light.
“I knew you’d have one of these. You seem sensible enough. Maybe you don’t need to be a bat after all…”
He slipped the charm over my head, trailing his fingers down my neck softly. I caught his hand in mine as he reached my collarbone and put it back by his side, then did the same to the hand that was still on my right hip. Dorian merely raised his eyebrows and picked up my hands instead, quirking his lips as he placed them. He gave a tug on my belt loops so I took an involuntary step forward, and whispered: “Finished…”
He’d positioned me just like a child would a doll with moveable parts; I was back in the circle of his arms again, but this time, I had one hand round his waist, one on the back of his neck, and I was stuck.
“Stop playing with me, Dorian.” I prayed he wouldn’t hear the drumbeat currently thudding out of my veins. Well, it was more likely he’d feel it, with the way he had me standing. I attempted to move, but my actions were limited; I could indeed move my hands, but not away from him. And I was joking about him being magnetic.
“I like playing with you. You’re cute.” He adjusted his stance, proving my wriggling even more inefficient. What was it with today and being manhandled by members of the Callahan family?
“But enough.” I’m not sure exactly what happened to Dorian’s voice. None of the humour left, but something caused me to look up again, instead of staring beseechingly at Quiz for help. “That’s more like it.” And oh-so-quickly, he brought his lips down to mine, for just a second, and took them away again. I stopped struggling, eyes wide. He chuckled again, and I felt the reverberations in my ribcage.
He kissed me again, deeper, longer this time. I responded just as ardently. I don’t know why. You know - a stranger starts getting way too friendly; a normal reaction would be at least a shove. But I was captivated. I wanted the kiss. It was better than kissing Blake, anyway, or at least I told myself it was, in light of recent events. I gave an unconscious mew as he pulled away.
“Want something better?” Better? My world was spinning as it was, filled with blue eyes and raven hair and blood red lips. Dorian grinned, and began to undo the top button of my shirt, kissing his way down my neck as he did so. I’d like to say I resisted, that I defended my maidenly honour and pushed him away, but I didn’t. There were no consequences in my head, only the moment. I inhaled deeply and he returned to my lips, finishing the last button. I shrugged it onto the floor and reached up bare-shouldered to undo his tie, discarding that too. My cami and his grey shirt joined the growing heap of haberdashery; I wriggled out of my skirt and started to loosen his belt.
“Now hold up there, sweetie,” he said in an undertone. “You sure?” I just nodded. Was I going to say no? Seriously? With his deliciously cool hands exploring the curves of my shoulder blades, and sliding down ever so slightly to unhook the clasp of my bra?
Dorian moved his mouth down my neck again, this time on the side that Blake had used, and I felt a slight twinge as his lips ran over the wound. “Oh,” he murmured, “You’ve been used recently…” And he sank his teeth into my skin, into the channels already made by his little brother. I felt dizzy, mind and sight cloudy with heady feeling. He stepped out of his trousers, exploiting the forward motion to push me back onto the bench where I’d sat with Quiz.
Despite the haze of passion, I found enough brain cells to defend Blake. “Blake doesn’t use me! He drinks, but he doesn’t use me.” Dorian shushed me with another kiss. I acquiesced.
“Unlike you, brother.” Every word was filled with spite. Dorian lifted his mouth from mine to glare in the direction of the stairs, where the interruption had come from. Blake stood, barely visible in the dimness, but visibly furious. I shrank back onto the bench, scared. The last time I saw Blake this angry, I had to talk him out of throttling a third year. I dreaded to think what was going to happen to me!
Dorian just laughed again, utterly unfazed. “Wait here,” he muttered against my mouth and rose to stand opposite Blake. Even in only his boxers, he seemed more collected and sophisticated than his brother, who was playing the hero card for all it was worth.
“You worthless playboy. So you’re back, are you? What right do you have to be treating Evee like that?” Blake’s eyes blazed. I sat up on my elbows, as Dorian shook his head.
“Like what, Blakey-boy? Like she wants?” Blake took a step forward, fists clenching, then seemed to think better of it. “ My life is none of your business, and it seems like hers could be better without you. Now, have you finished your little rant? Because in that case you can leave us to it.” He raised his eyebrows pointedly.
Blake just ignored him, and walked over to me. I was more self-conscious now, and I curled my arms protectively across my body; I know Blake had seen me with less on than my underwear, but this was different, somehow.
“Are you okay, Eev? What’d he do to you?”
“Nothing I didn’t ask him to! You never could mind your own business, could you? Why don’t you just go, Blake? Go and see Nick, or Venexia, or one of your other whores!” He recoiled as if I’d hit him. The fury in his eyes was replaced with hurt, but he stood up so quickly I wasn’t sure if I’d seen right. He strode over to Dorian and spoke coldly and quietly: “You don’t belong here, brother. I wouldn’t make any long term plans.”
He left. I watched his figure descend the staircase, then sat up and turned to Dorian, who was gazing at me in a frankly lecherous way. I wished I was wearing nicer underwear.
“Well,” Dorian said. “I guess after that little outburst, I’d better go make sure there’s no garlic in my bed.” His lips quirked again. Devil, he was handsome.
He bent to whisper in my ear as he crossed to the window. “If you can deal with that (a jerk of his head towards the stairs), you might want to leave your window open tonight…”
Standing now on the stone windowsill, a shadow against the light like the first time I saw him, he smiled. “I had fun today. Shame we got cut short...” A wink, and he jumped.
I rushed to the window, but there was nothing save an echo of his cynical silver laugh.
This is all my own work, so any mistakes are mine. The plot, characters, and actual text all belong to me as the author.