The Willing (14 page)

The man next to me murmured some things
too quickly for me to pick them up, but it sounded like an ornate
apology. I almost growled at the priest as the older man hurried
away. The heavy wooden door slammed behind him as he left, and my
irritation set in amazingly fast. The thrumming in my body would
have to wait to be satiated now.

I scowled at the priest and turned to
leave. His voice trailed after me as I made for the
door.

“Are you in need of help, sister?” he
asked with all the naivety I expected from his order. A plan coming
to mind, I let a slow smile cross my face as I turned on my
heel.

I walked slowly up to him, letting my
hips sway with the walk. Unlike the man from the service, he had
his body and his eyes under complete control. I stopped within two
paces of him and leaned up, letting my lips brush his
ear.

“I am in need of help,” I whispered in
my best seductive voice. “You see, I am completely and utterly
desperate for a man to be inside me.”

I felt his entire body stiffen next to
mine and he attempted, to no avail, to distance himself from me. I
was so close that I felt the heat from the blush in his cheeks and
heard him swallow nervously.

“Desculpe,
irmã
. This is God’s house. I think you are
in the wrong place if you are seeking that kind of comfort.” He
cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, attempting once more to
make room between us without stepping away from me. I suppose he
thought that would have been rude. “Let me offer you some
coffee.”

I gave a sexy gurgle and pushed my body
completely against his so that there was no space between us,
wrapping my arms around his neck. I felt his cock stiffen through
the loose robes he wore. He grabbed my wrists and pulled them from
around his neck, finally taking that step back to create a gap
between us. I tilted my head and looked obliquely down at the
swelling beneath his clothes. He, too, began to emit the pheromones
that told me his body wanted me, even if his will did not consent.
His eyes met mine, and they were dark and heavy with
lust.

“I cannot,
irmã
,” he said in a
desperate last attempt to keep me from my next move.
“
Por favor, compreenda-me
when I say that I cannot do this thing that you
want.”

I ignored his plea, putting one hand on
his chest and another around his waist. The hand on his chest began
to sensually slide down his stomach, playfully twirling and
twisting in the material. I slid even closer to him again. He did
not fight me this time. His breathing quickened and he closed his
eyes. When my hand reached his sturdy pants, I did not even have to
seek out a zipper. They were just soft breeches, built for utility.
My fingers easily found his manhood and began to make the same
twirls and twists they had with his shirt.

“Now doesn’t that feel good?” I purred.
“Why would you fight?”

He groaned in response, his body
starting to respond to my caresses, his hips involuntarily moving
against my arm.

“Por favor,
não
,” he begged quietly. “This is the
sanctuary of God. You must respect the
santuário
.”

I looked around at the wooden planks
surrounding us, the long rug beneath our feet, and the tiny altar
with the sacrament wine and bread. The soft lull of his randomly
inserted Portuguese only quickened the pulse between my legs. His
voice sounded so much like Luka’s.

“Shhhh,” I said, placing my free hand
over his lips while cupping his scrotum. His almost fearful look as
I leaned in to kiss him slightly amused me, but I found his lips
soft and pliant. When my tongue slipped into his mouth, he gave
another predictable groan and wrapped his arms around me. I let his
hands explore my upper body while keeping his mouth busy with mine.
Both of his hands found my breasts and did not stray. Instead, he
squeezed lightly as if he would hurt me and soon his squeezes
matched the rhythm of my ministrations to his member. I felt his
balls go tight and stopped.

“No, no, no,” I scolded gently. “Not
yet. A true gentleman lets a woman have her way first.” I giggled.
“At least, that’s what I hope.”

I pushed him then, hard. Taken by
surprise, he staggered, but did not fall. He looked up at me with
those wide, innocent eyes again. I suddenly had a
revelation.

“Are you a virgin?” I asked
bluntly.

He paused before speaking. I almost
laughed. It was such a delicious moment, to see a man being a
natural man—instead of a priest—and considering a lie to make
himself look more experienced, more virile. Finally, his morality
won.

“Yes,” he admitted a little harshly. My
question seemed to reinforce his nerve from earlier. “And I will
stay pure for God. Do not approach me again with your unclean
intentions.” Each word was spoken with something akin to
anger.

“Are you actually angry with me?” I
asked with a false pout. “Or are you upset because I hurt your
pride?” I laughed softly. “No one will ever know about this, so
just come here.” I beckoned to him with a crook of my finger. “Let
me show you how to please a woman.”

He did not come to me, nor did he
answer either of my questions. The irritation I had felt earlier
for him was starting to grow into anger. My body ached for release,
for the Change even. This stubborn priest had already denied me my
easy prey this evening. If I had to work any harder to use him for
my release, I would be seriously pissed. No man was worth this much
effort.

I continued to speak to him softly,
keeping my anger in check. “Come here,” I said again. “I already
know that you want me. There is nothing wrong with wanting a
woman.”

He crossed his arms, his
dark eyes glowing with passion, but whether it was for me or his
God—or both—I could not know. “You know nothing of faith then,
woman, and I pity you. It is time for you to leave.
Corra!
Go. And do not
return unless you seek penance for your sins.
Que Deus tenha misericórdia de sua alma
.”

I rolled my eyes. “I thought we had
established that I don’t speak Portuguese.” A sigh escaped my lips
in frustration and my voice rose in contemptuous anger. “Look. Just
lay down and let me fuck you. I’m completely positive it won’t take
long. It won’t hurt. In fact, it’ll feel very much the opposite. If
you fucking relax, you may even enjoy it.”

His look of disgust infuriated
me.

“You are an animal. Please
leave.”

I felt the growl rise up from my chest.
His eyes went wide yet again, but this time they shone with fear.
This time I did not sidle up to him, I closed the gap between us
with three angry strides and grabbed the front of his pants,
pulling him face-to-face with me.

Lycanti are not any stronger than
regular human beings. We are faster, and we are vicious, but it is
our fearlessness which frightens other humans while we are in human
form. When I spoke this time, my voice held none of the musical,
seductive cadence from before.

“Go ahead. Call me that again,
Father.”

His mouth hung open and his eyes had
glazed over. What confidence he had demonstrated earlier
disappeared as he stammered an apology.

The rage finally slipped over me like a
dark coverlet, my vision blurring at the edges.

“You should have fucked me when you had
the chance,” I snarled, feeling the Change possess me. “Because now
you’ll die a virgin.”

I left his blood as an offering that
night on the altar, a symbol of how my Lycanti blood had finally
ascended to the apex of my soul.

Shasta

Washington state was a nice place to be
that time of year. We moved quickly from our house in California,
opting to take the train instead of a flight or a car. We booked a
private car. If Emily Changed again, we would be the only ones who
suffered.

As it was, Emily felt pretty bad about
attacking Rachel and me. She kept saying something about hormones
and becoming “more Lycanti every day,” and how we had to hurry and
take her to Lenora. I got the feeling she was also tired of being a
buffet for Delilah, Rachel, and me, especially after Delilah
suggested we all get together for drinks (“A little whisky and
blood never hurt anyone, right girls?”). At least Delilah’s
drinking night didn’t come around; instead, we got on the train
that Saturday.

Rachel watched her closely, but Emily
put on some headphones and napped most of the way. Her pregnant
belly created a bump underneath her sweatshirt, making me wonder
where the father was. It wasn’t Will, I knew that much. The timing
didn’t fit. And it couldn’t have been Luka, even though she spoke
of him with a look in her eyes that I was coming to hate. It made
me want to claw her eyes out, but then I remembered that Luka hated
me for what I am. I had to swallow my feelings repeatedly and just
try to not speak to Emily. I was pretty successful for the most
part. She seemed nervous around me, and I was terrified of her.
Rachel was the one she turned to for comfort.

And amazingly, Rachel responded. They
would talk for hours about nothing and about everything. Rai had a
soothing effect on Emily now. It was as if those scars on my best
friend’s arm were from some old bike accident instead of a vicious
mauling by the werewolf sharing a train car with us. I tried not
to, but I overhead their conversation about what was going on in
Luka’s life anyway.

The idea that he was still hunting down
Lycanti for the Clan satisfied me. In a way, we were connected by
our hunting of pack members who had gone astray. When Emily
offhandedly mentioned that Luka had married an utter Lycanti bitch
named Brooke, then shot her eyes to me apologetically, I wanted to
throw up, but acted like I had heard nothing. Rachel didn’t even
look my way. Overall, the train ride was pretty boring and
uneventful. I felt almost normal in a way that I hadn’t felt normal
in years—almost human again.

It was only my emotional state that was
in tatters by the time we got off.

Lenora wasn’t sitting on throne or
anything when we arrived. Jesus, people, this isn’t The Queen of
the Damned. Her house in Seattle sits in the suburbs, and while
people may not like the idea of a vampire living in their
neighborhood, everyone loved Lenora, whether or not they knew her
special dietary needs.

She opened the door, hair streaming
down her back in a waterfall of red-gold waves. Her dimpled smile
and slightly crooked nose were scenes of comfort for us. She
enfolded both Rachel and me into her arms. Lenora was a
pure-blooded vampire; that is, she was born to two Lycanthrope
parents in Italy and her first Change killed her with its
intensity. She rose the next day as a Child of Dacre, confused as
to why her Clan, her own parents, suddenly treated her like a
pariah. She is the oldest of the Children and has been wandering
the world for almost a thousand years. Since then, she’s been
making sure the Children of Dacre prosper. She’s no queen, but when
people say the name ‘Lenora,’ it is generally with sincere warmth
and reverence.

When she released us from our hug, she
sniffed the air and looked at Emily, who stood at a respectful
distance behind us. The accent Lenora had picked up from living so
long in Rhode Island came out nice and thick. “Oh, a guest!”
Another sniff. “A very…unique guest.” Completely unfazed, Lenora
gestured for us to enter her home.

As usual, she had pumpkin spice candles
burning. My stomach rumbled at the smell, and I was overwhelmed
with the urge for some human food.

“There’s a pie in the oven,” Lenora
said knowingly with a wink. I could only smile back at her. “The
kids are at Chaz’s house, but you know that when they get home,
they’re as hungry as miners.”

Lenora’s “kids” by the way, are foster
kids. She’s been fostering children even before the current foster
system went into place in America. Apparently quite a few
generations have called Lenora ‘Mom’ over the years. Chaz is short
for Chastity, a vampire Lenora met during her time in Puritan Rhode
Island. Anyway, sorry, I just thought you should know. Lenora is
just like a mom to all of us, and she’s the one we go to when we’re
in trouble. Her whole aura seems to pull you towards her when you
first Change and suddenly there you are on her doorstep: no idea
what you’re doing here, but knowing that someone inside this house
loves you no matter what you’ve become. That’s especially
comforting after your entire life gets turned upside
down.

We sat at her small dining room table
like old friends. Emily fidgeted uncomfortably, even scratching at
her neck at one point.

Lenora put a comforting hand on Emily’s
shoulder, her long reach taking Emily by surprise. “You can calm
down, honey. I ain’t gonna bite you.”

Rachel smiled wanly and I
giggled.

“I’m sorry,” Emily said immediately,
looking embarrassed. “I just…um…well, I’d like to leave here
alive.”

Now Lenora laughed loudly, withdrawing
her hand from Emily’s shoulder and laying it on her own heaving
chest. “Sweetie, you ain’t got nothing to worry about on that
account. Seattle is packed with Lycanti who never know what hit
‘em!” Her obvious delight made me laugh, too. “Are you hungry,
Emily? Oh, what am I saying? Of course you are, with that baby and
everything. Here, let me get you some pie. Would you like some
milk?”