The Cherished One (11 page)

Dain took the sword, slowly at first, as if he thought that this might be some kind of a trick. 

Smart man, Max thought, although there was no underlying deception.

Then he started off through the forest in what he hoped was the right direction, looking back at the stunned young man and motioning to him.  “Well?  Aren’t you going to show me the way out?  It’s the quickest method of getting rid of me, you know.  I can see in the dark and call the animals myself, but unless I have something to scent I have a terrible sense of direction.”

When the vampire stopped short at one point on their way back through the dense trees, Dain went on alert, even though there was a huge, shit eating grin on his face.

“What are you smiling like that for?”

“She likes me.”

“Who likes you?” Dain asked, although he knew he probably didn’t want to know the answer.

“Your sister.”

God help them, she’d fallen for another blood sucker.  Would the girl never learn?  And this time, he wasn’t like Dag, who was at least trying to be a good person.  No, she’d fallen for the bad ass’s bad ass of vampires, who’d already tried to off her once, and had succeeded in holding her hostage.  “Stockholm Syndrome.”

“What?”

Dain explained the psychological theory on their way out of the forest, but Max thought it was a load of crap, like most psychology.

“She likes me.”  He could have flown home on the wings of what he’d learned about her, but instead, he accepted a grudgingly offered ride from Fawna’s brother, who was just as happy to know for a fact the vampire was well out of his sister’s realm.

He didn’t mention to Dain the more troubling thing she’d done right after she’d realized that she’d missed him that had made him want to run back to the house and hold her in his arms.  It had taken everything he had to keep himself marching forward, away from her when he felt her collapse into sorrow.

Max knew that some of what she was crying about was not about him, but a lot of it was, and he was heartily sorry for the pain and fear he’d caused her.  If it took him the rest of whatever remained of his existence, he would spend it trying to make that up to her as much as she would let him, and he would do his best to help her overcome her sorrow at the loss of someone she loved as much as she’d loved Dag.

***

Fawna treated herself for the next few days, going completely off any diet known to man.  She ate exactly what she wanted, when she wanted it, slept when she wanted to, stayed up when she wanted to, watched entirely too much TV and played too many video games.  She missed the Internet, though, and her cell phone, but the readily available amounts of junk food – and a certain amount of tequila - made up for a lot of that.

Dain favored various micro brews of beer, and there was a lot of Budweiser left over from her father’s days, but she simply could not stomach beer.  Flavored vodkas and or tequila, on the other hand, were right up her ally.  Since Hornitos was the only thing they had, then tequila was what she drank.

But she only allowed herself one night to get completely hammered, because she didn’t like feeling this out of control, especially when she was alone.  Max was gone, and she felt relatively safe, and she needed it, dammit.

With a little investigation, she found the makings for margaritas, salt rimmed glasses and all, and with impromptu barbecued chicken nachos and some double stuffed Oreos to go along with them, she was going to sit down and see what all the hullabaloo was about Avatar, and then she was going to watch some South Park, figuring that by that time, she wasn’t going to be able to follow much in the way of plot, and she already knew all the plots to all the episodes of South Park, thanks to Dag’s corrupting influence.

Her eyes filled with tears at the thought of him, before she’d even begun drinking, but she blinked them back.  Fawna set herself up on the comfy couch, where she and Max had sat together and he had spanked her and then brought her off. She almost started to cry again, and she nearly smacked herself for thinking of it.  Men.  Meh.  She could do without the lot of them.

With that, she toasted her lack of male companionship, and continued to do so throughout what she thought was a highly overrated movie, despite the whiz bang special effects.  The plot was no better than any western from the fifties.  She could see what was coming from the beginning and found herself bored almost immediately, despite the beauty of the planet they had created.  She switched to South Park – and tequila shots, which were a lot less of a fuss than margaritas - before the movie was even finished.  Luckily, Dain was also an addict, and he had all of the seasons on DVD, so she simply popped one in and toasted away.

When she got to the point that she started to feel sleepy, she moved her festivities, such as they were, and they had dwindled down to just the double stuffed Oreos by then, into her room, where she loaded another DVD and considered the damage to the fifth of tequila, which was nearly half-gone.

As she lay there, staring blearily at Cartman as fire came out of his ass, she thought she heard someone talking to her.  But that was impossible, because she was supposed to be alone, wasn’t she?  Although it had happened lately that she had been supposed to be alone and ended up not being, due to that annoying vampire, whatzizname.

“What
is
my name, Cherie?”

Fawna sat bolt upright in her bed, which in her condition was quite a feat.  Damn it, it was him.  “Max?  Where the fuck are you?”  She made to get out of bed, but wasn’t sure she could.

“Stay right where you are, Fawna.  I’m not there.  I’m just in your head.”

“In my haid?”  She was looking at the ceiling of the room from various angles, as if he was there, but she saw nothing, and only managed to make herself horribly dizzy.

He was chuckling, laughing at her, and she didn’t like it one bit.  “Hmmmm.  Perhaps this isn’t the best time...”

“What are you doing in my haid, Max?”  She hiccoughed, then burped and slurred an “excuse me” as a distinct afterthought.

His voice still had that slightly amused tinge to it, like a father with a particularly bright daughter.  “I’m always here, Fawna.  You can’t get rid of me, just because I’m not with you.”

“Get out of my head, Max.”  She sounded a little more sober than she had a moment ago, but sober or not, there he was.  Fawna was on her knees on the bed, trying in vain to stand on the none too steady mattress when she was none too steady herself.  “Now you’re in it even more than you were b’fore!”

“Sit down, please.  I’m afraid not, Fawna.  I like it in here.  It’s quite cozy, and I like you, too.  A lot.  More than a lot.  And I intend to show you that, in the future, when you’re ready to face the world again.  I just wanted to check in on you. I know Dain and your Mother are worried about you, but they don’t want to disturb you.  I, on the other hand, have no such compunction.  I thought I’d let them know that you’re all right, if a bit tipsy.”

“You stay away from my family!”  She was endeavoring to stand on the bed, but all she managed to do was cause an epic oreo debacle that would have her brushing oreo crumbs out of her bed for the rest of her stay.

“Sit down!”  He’d never really yelled at her before, but that voice, that tone, demanded instant obedience, even in her inebriated state and especially since it was accompanied by something scorching hot across her bottom.  She had no idea what it was, but it felt like a someone was laying stripes from a cane made of fire across her rump , so much so that she kept reaching her hands behind her, as if to extinguish the nonexistent flames.  Finally, she collapsed, somehow managing tailor fashion, directly onto the package of Oreos, and the bite died down somewhat, although an unnatural, and distinctly uncomfortable glow remained.

“Good girl.  Does your bottom sting, I hope?” He couldn’t resist asking.  He’d never really tried to do what he’d just done to her, but it had worked amazingly well.  He could feel, sort of, remotely, what it felt like to her, and it had been highly effective.  He would have to remember that that weapon was in his arsenal when she misbehaved when she was away from him in the future – not that he intended to let her get away from him much.

Fawna’s hands were still clutching her non-blazing blazing butt.  “Yes!” she pouted indignantly.  “You can’t do that!  You’re not even here!  And that’s not fair!”

His laughter exploded in her head, making her that much more indignant.  He decided to distract her, not wanting her to dwell on what had been a small chastisement.  “You and I have some unfinished business to take care of when next we meet.”  Somehow, she had no idea how he did it, but he made her feel as if his hand was squeezing her now burning bottom.  It no longer burned from his previous chastisement, thankfully, but it had been red for quite a few days after his departure.

“Good.  I hope it hurt for quite some time afterwards.”

She became quite coy at that remark, trailing her finger around the bedspread.  “Welllllllll, not really.”

Max had to suppress a smile.  She was going to regret having indulged, in more ways than one.  “I’ll have to remember that and do a better job next time, now won’t I?”

“Nooooooooo,” she answered, then dissolved into a fit of giggles.  He liked it when she laughed.  She hadn’t done anywhere near enough of it during their short time together.

“Maaaaaaaaaaax?”

“What, Cherie?”

She sighed heavily, and he knew the giggling was over.  Apparently, alcohol made her moods quite mercurial.  “You won’t hurt my Mommy or Dain, will you?”

He swallowed hard, knowing that was a very valid question, and was touched at her care for her family, even when she could barely think for herself.  “No, bebe, you have my word of honor from when that used to mean something.  I will never again be a threat to you or your family.”

“Or Dag?”  Her voice was high pitched again, as when she had giggled, as a child’s.

“Don’t push it, Fawna.”

She was rolling on the bed, as if dipping herself in Oreo crumbs before dropping herself into a fryolator.  “Okay!” innocently, completely without malice.

He couldn’t be mad at her when she was like this – it would be as useless as being angry at a baby.  “Don’t you think you should be getting to sleep?”

“Nope!”

“I could help you along those lines...”

Instantly, the legs she had let fall apart while she was rolling were held gently apart as invisible fingers crept between her legs. 

She was alone, and thus only wearing those useless scraps of undies and a t shirt left over from her mother’s days as sometimes a Russian language student.  It said something to the effect of “No, I won’t translate what this T shirt says for you.”

Chapter Eight

Something lovely was happening to her lower parts, and she wasn’t quite sure exactly what it was, but it was very pleasant, but it was making her have to move her head back and forth very fast, and breathe very heavily.

“Max?”

“Yes, my Fawna?”

She couldn’t answer him immediately because of what was happening down there, where someone who really knew what he was doing was touching her, even though she was alone and there was no one there, and she just had to groan.  “Max?”

“Yes, my Fawna?”

“Max, the room is – is spinning... or am I spinning?”  She really wasn’t quite sure which it was.

Unsure whether what he was doing might contribute to a stomach upset, Max withdrew his attentions immediately.  “Bebe, I want you to listen to me.”

“Yes?”  She responded all right, but her attention had been caught by the blasted cartoon.

“Turn off the DVD player.”

She pouted very prettily, but did what she was told.  The recent stripes across her bottom serving well to remind her that she didn’t want to disobey him.  “Good girl.”  Then she reached for the bottle of tequila.  “No more tequila.  You’ve had enough, Fawna.  I want you to quit for the night and try to go to sleep.”

“I can’t yet.”

Max sighed and tried to keep a hold on his temper.  “Why not?”

“Because I need to have a big glass of water and an aspernin, so’s I don’t get a hungover.”  Luckily, she had been prepared, and had put a bottle of water and an aspirin on her nightstand at the beginning of this adventure, so that she didn’t have to go anywhere when she finally decided to nod off.  She drank most of the bottle of water, and swallowed the aspirin, then lay back on the bed and turned the TV back on.

“I thought I told you to turn that off?”

“It helps me fall to sleep.”

Max liked silence when he slept.  He had never gotten into the modern idea that something needed to be on in the background to facilitate sleep.  “All right, but I want you to sleep, not watch TV.”

Fawna snorted, suddenly more adult again.  “Yes, Dad.”

Silence.

“Are you going to get out of my head now?”

“I’m going to go away, yes.  I’m always here, if you need me.”

“How come you never told me you could talk to me like this until now?”  She seemed to be sobering up almost annoyingly fast.

He took his time responding.  “I’ve always been able to do it; but I blocked it from you at first.  I’m trying not to now, because I want to be more open with you.  Eventually, if you want to learn, you’ll be able to read my thoughts, too.”

Now that sounded intriguing.  She wished she was more sober, because that was something she really wanted to explore.  But another thought intruded, and she frowned in concentration.  “Are you really going to tell my family I’m all right?”

“If your brother doesn’t kill me first for darkening his doorway, as he promised to on our way out of the woods.”

Fawna didn’t say anything.  She just sighed.  Sometimes the complicated relationships in her life just seemed entirely too hard to work out.  Why everyone just couldn’t friggin’ get along, she’d never know.  It was because she kept picking damned dominant men, and they always clashed.  If only she had been gay.

It was Max’s turn to snort.  “Right. And women always get along so well together, right?”