Black Christmas (Plus Bonus Story "Black Supper") (5 page)

Wrong and wrong,
Black sent, but his voice sounded calmer again, almost amused.

I finally got the box open, only to find tissue paper inside.

Look harder,
he sent, smiling at me through the space.

At the bottom was a felt bag. Lifting it up and hefting the weight a little, I opened it, and a pendant dropped out, landing in my palm.

I held it up to the candlelight, and immediately flinched, recognizing it.

Fingering the design compulsively, I realized I could feel him on it too and stopped, swallowing.
Where did you find this?
I asked him. Realizing tears had come to my eyes, I blinked them away, swallowing.
It was lost. It wasn’t on her when––

I know,
he sent.
And I can’t tell you how, not right now.

But it’s hers?
I sent, almost afraid of the answer.

Yes.
He sighed, and I felt grief on him, real enough and intense enough that it closed my throat.
Do you know what it means, Miri?
he sent, his voice softer, but lighter somehow too. I could feel him pulling on me softly, trying to pull me out of the spiral where I could feel myself going.
It was your mother’s once, wasn’t it? Before she gave it to your sister?

I nodded, wiping my face with one hand. I found myself clutching the pendant again once I’d done it, unwilling to let go of it with either set of fingers.

Yes,
I sent.
Yes. It was a wedding present. It was supposed to be about her and my dad.

I expected Black to be puzzled by that, to ask me what I meant.

Instead, he went completely silent again.

That means something to you?
I sent.

I felt him hedging, but not really in avoidance.

Maybe,
he sent after that pause.
I honestly don't know. But where I’m from, the original seers, it was said that the seer races first came from the ocean. Some of the original clans... older tribes I mean, where I was from... they believed some animals were the relatives of seers. They thought that even now, those same animals carried their souls. And humans, they were the third race, according to that myth. The third race is said to come from the stars...

He paused, and I could almost see him there, sprawled out on a couch, his arm slung over his head as he gazed up at the ceiling.

The main myth that people believed, they called it the Myth of Three,
he added.
It got distorted a lot over the years, and used by different groups for some pretty dark things, political and otherwise. But the original Myths, they’re beautiful, Miri. Like living light. It’s like music to hear them... especially when they were spoken by some of the elders.

I listened to him, realizing I’d never felt him like this before.

Looking down at the symbol in my hand, I nodded, thinking about his words.

Whatever it was to Black, to me it was Tlingit art, a Native American tribe from the Northwest. Some of my ancestors supposedly came from that tribe, on my mother’s side. My mom proudly told us she came from several different tribes––plains tribes, and those from the coast, a clan of warriors who lived on the sea. Her grandfather, who still lived in the Northwest, near Canada, had been an artist in that tradition.

The symbol in my hand was that of a Blackfish, or an Orca.

I’d never seen another one like it before, which is how I knew it was Zoe’s.

It was the same pendant she’d worn for as long as I could remember while she’d been alive, but that had been missing from her body in death.

According to our mother, our grandfather made it when she and my father were married. It depicted a Blackfish in silver in the middle of an arcing jump, with three bright stars below it, nestled in the curve of its body.

Ocean and stars. Water and sky––like Black said.

It was beautiful and ornate and it was
family
somehow, like a living representation of what I was. I’d been jealous that my mother gave it to Zoe and not to me.

Now I would give anything if I could hand it back to her.

Looking down at it now, I rubbed it with my fingers, trying to feel my sister and my mom through the metal. I felt Black instead, the warmth of him, as if he’d stared at it like I was now.

Merry Christmas,
he sent softly.

Wiping my face again, I nodded, clutching the pendant in my hand.

I’m sorry about Nick,
I told him
. I’m sorry I flipped out when you left.

I felt Black relax, even as a harder pulse of pain left him.

I’m sorry I left,
he sent, even softer.
You have no idea how badly I wish I could’ve stayed, Miriam. How badly I want to be there right now.

When are you coming back?
I asked.

It came out more like a demand than a real question.

He sighed, and I almost heard him making that clicking sound of his as he laid there, eyes closed where he stretched out on a couch on a different side of the world.

He didn’t answer me.

I HAD THE pendant around my neck when I slid back under the covers.

I felt him there still, almost felt the question on him when I realized he wasn’t going to leave.

What?
I sent.
Did you want to talk some more?

Talk?
he murmured.

There was a loaded pause, then I felt that heat intensify in my chest. Pain followed it, a pulling, aching kind of pain I associated only with him. It wasn’t really pain, not exactly, although he called it that, too. It was more like desire––an intense, frustratingly intense, longing kind of desire that I felt almost physically.

No. I don’t want to talk, Miri,
he finished.

Letting my weight sink into the mattress, I smiled in spite of myself, shaking my head as my eyes looked up at the dark ceiling. The pendant felt cold against my bare skin.

Is this like psychic phone sex?
I asked.
Is that what you’re angling for right now?

We called it Barrier sex where I’m from, but yeah,
he sent.
I want to fuck, Miri.
When I reacted, flushing at his words, that heat on him intensified, making my breath catch when he felt me thinking about it.
What about you?
he sent, his mind coaxing again, cautious.
Can we do this? Are you still mad at me, Miri?

Are you going to leave your clothes on?
I asked him, still fingering the pendant.

No.

I watched in my mind’s eye as he sat up. He pulled the shirt over his head, then reached for his belt, unbuckling the clasp with clumsy fingers. He was already breathing harder, even before he stood up, unfastening the front of his pants before he shoved them down, stepping out of them along with the boxer briefs he wore below and leaving them on the floor by the couch. I couldn’t help but notice that he was already hard, that his body was warmer where I felt it through the connection between us.

The urgency sparking through him caught in my throat, even before I saw him lay back down, his eyes closed as he settled on the leather couch.

Gaos...
 
he muttered.
I can already tell this isn’t going to be enough.

Whose fault is that?

Shut up,
he murmured.
Are you really okay with me doing this?

I smiled, puzzled.
I assumed we were just going to watch each other masturbate?

Not exactly,
he sent, cagier that time.

Before I could ask him what he meant, his presence flooded over mine. It was so intense that time I let out a low gasp, my back arching even as he pulled me out of my body, pulling me...

Black,
I sent.
Black... what are you doing?

Then we were somewhere else, and he was there too.

I felt his body against mine, shockingly real... his hands almost rough as he pinned me to whatever I lay on. Once I focused down on it I saw a bed––complete with sheets and bedposts and a silk comforter. I knew it wasn’t real, just like the stars above me weren’t real, the water I saw flowing by our bed, the long black dorsal fins gliding through the glass-like surface.

He had his fingers in me then and I groaned, arching against him.

I couldn’t slow down the intensity of feeling that washed over me.

I was clutching his back then, gasping when he kissed me, and I felt his tongue. My fingers fisted in his hair, pulling on him, my legs wrapped around his waist, but it wasn’t enough. I felt like I was trying to pull him inside of me, under my skin... I felt him trying to do the same. Those flickers of frustration were the only things that broke the illusion, reminding me that it wasn’t real.

A memory hit me, of what I’d wanted from him before he left, and his whole body writhed above me, right before he let out a deeper-toned, heavier groan than I had.

Miri... can I... can I... ?

I nodded to him somewhere in that and then...

He was inside me.

I cried out, feeling him there, but still not enough.

He drove into me harder.

Then harder, liquid heat swimming through me... through him.

I felt a near violence on him. A wanting so intense it made me want to hurt him.

It wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck...
 
His voice broke, even as he let out a longer cry.
Fuck... Miri... Miri...

My hands dug into his back, but it still wasn’t enough. I wrapped my legs tighter around him, gasping, pulling him further inside me.

Nothing was enough.

He arched into me again, harder, and I felt that frustration building on him too. I saw his eyes close in that space, got a glimpse of him naked and sweating on that couch.

I came... hard.

So hard I bucked against him, my jaw clenched, eyes closed. I lost track of both places even as I heard him talking to me, felt his hands on me... felt his frustration... his desire. I felt him wanting to have sex with me for real. I felt him fantasizing about it, even as his hands roamed over me in this unreal place, even as he kissed my mouth, slowing his body right before he slammed it into me harder.

He raised his head, his jaw clenched as he slammed into me again, letting out a low groan.

Gods...
 
he groaned.
This is making me fucking crazy...

Images flickered behind his eyes. Some of them were intense enough to make me flinch. On my knees in front of him, his fingers clenched in my hair, my body... gods. He had things in me, my wrists cuffed behind my back... then the image broke, shifting... and I was tied to his bed, his hands holding me down, his mind and his tongue, his cock and fingers learning things about me that made my skin blush where he held me. He started off coaxing me, seducing me... then he started making demands, forcing me with his body and hands. He pushed on me harder, looking for limits. Looking for where I would say no.

Right then, he didn’t hit very many, and I felt that pain on him worsen.

I remembered that he was built different.