To Kill An Angel (2 page)

“Bo, help me.  It hurts.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and wrapped my arms around myself, comforted somehow by the fact that, though I couldn’t see my body, it was still there.  I could feel it.

A finger at the corner of my eye wiped a tear.  Somehow he’d known they were falling.  He didn’t have to see them to know they were there.

“I know, baby.  I’m so sorry.”

There was an odd, helpless quality to his voice that shook me to my core.  When I opened my eyes to his, I could see that it was killing him to watch me go through this.

“I can’t live like this, Bo.  I’ll hurt somebody,” I managed to force out between sobs that silently wracked my body.

“No, you won’t.  I won’t let you,” he said softly, gathering me into his arms.  “I’ll be with you.  I’ll help you.”

Though his promises soothed me somewhat, his nearness was only aggravating that whirlwind of unbearable sensation that felt like it was ripping me apart.

I pushed at his chest.

“Get away from me, Bo.  Being so close to you only makes it worse.”  Just uttering those words was like purposely tearing a hole in my heart.  His love, his closeness was the thing I wanted most in life.  Until now.

“Ridley, I’ll help you, but you have to listen very closely and do exactly as I say.  Okay?”

I looked into his eyes.  He was earnest.  That much was clear.  He was also confident, so confident, in fact, that a glimmer of hope began to shine in my heart.  It shone through like a single blessed ray of sunlight peeking through a crack in the blinds.

I nodded.

Bo rose to his feet and held out one hand.  It was a silent plea to trust him, to go where he wanted me to go without question.  Of course, I slipped my hand into his and stood.  I would always follow Bo—wherever he went and forever without question.

Bo led me across the dusty floor in the long, hidden room of Sebastian’s house to the cot where Lilly had slept only a short time ago.  It was nothing more than a thin mattress covered with a single white sheet that rested on a support of bare springs.  It was pushed up against the wall in a corner. 

Bo released my hand and lowered himself onto the bed.  It creaked and squeaked under his weight.  My stomach twitched with anticipation, my body still alive with all sorts of sensual stimulation.  He slid into the corner where his back was against the wall and his legs were straight out in front of him.  He spread them just enough to pat the mattress between his knees.

“Come here and sit down.  Put your back to my chest.”

My heart was pounding loudly in my ears.  My breathing was coming in quick bursts.  Excitement was buzzing inside my head as I knelt on the mattress facing Bo.  As he suggested, I crawled between his legs and turned, settling my back against his chest.

“The first thing I want you to do is think of something that bores you.  School, a bad movie, a particularly tedious person, anything you have very little feeling about.  I want you to clear your mind of as much emotion as you can.  Can you do that?”

At the moment, I was finding it hard to concentrate on anything but the feel of Bo’s naked chest at my back, his hard muscular legs lying against my hips and thighs. 

“Ridley, can you do that?”

I could feel the rumble of his words reverberating through my own chest as he spoke.  The vibrations further excited the tiny jumping beans of desire that danced in my core.  They clamored for attention.  They screamed for satisfaction.  Mercilessly, I pushed them down deep, smothering them as best I could, determined to do as he instructed.

As my mind flipped through the internal catalog of my memories, it came to rest on a teacher I’d once had.  Mr. Hearst.  He taught geometry and I was convinced he was the most boring individual I’d ever met.  He far exceeded the put-me-to-sleep factor of even Mr. Dole, my Chemistry teacher.

I pictured the man—his sandy comb-over, his nerdy glasses, his coffee-stained teeth and yellow armpit rings—then I conjured his voice.  I was almost able to hear the nasal quality of it in the quiet of the room.

“Good, Ridley.  You’re doing great,” Bo encouraged.

He couldn’t see my face.  He hadn’t asked me any questions as I’d searched my mind.  I don’t know how he could’ve known I’d found something to concentrate on, but he did.

“How can you tell?”

Bo chuckled.  “I can just tell that you’re not thinking about me anymore.  You’ll just have to trust me on that.”

Though a little thrill went through me, I kept my focus trained on Mr. Hearst.

“Who’d you pick?”

“My ninth grade geometry teacher, Mr. Hearst.”

“Perfect.  Now,” Bo said as he leaned forward, “I’m gonna hold you so that you don’t get hurt, okay?”

Even as he spoke, Bo wrapped one arm around me, across my waist until he had both my arms pinned to my body.

“Okay.”

“I’m going to feed you from my wrist until you can learn to control your emotions, your hunger.  I want you to concentrate as hard as you can on Mr. Hearst.  All your focus, Ridley, okay?”

“Okay.”

I could feel excited anticipation rushing through me, but rather than give it one inch and then get carried away by it, I closed my eyes and pictured Mr. Hearst with as much detail as I could manage.

A snapping, squishing sound penetrated my vision of Mr. Hearst, but my hearing wasn’t the sense that threatened to undo me.  It was my sense of smell.  I gasped when one of the most delectable aromas I’d ever experienced flooded my nasal passages. 

I inhaled, pulling the scent deep into my lungs, the perfume so fragrant and so potent I could nearly taste it.  My mouth watered profusely and I felt something sharp rubbing my bottom lip.  My canines were stretched long with intent again.

“Ridley,” Bo cautioned.  “Focus.  Don’t think about how it smells.  Think about Mr. Hearst.  Only Mr. Hearst.”

Pulling my attention away from the smell of blood in the air felt like pure torture, like one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do.  But, after what felt like an eternity, I did it.  I finally did it.

Although my eyes remained closed, I still knew the instant that Bo brought his wrist around to my face.  The scent was so strong that it stung my nostrils and burned my lungs.  Without thinking, I tried to lunge toward it, as if my body would happily defy my will in order to get what it needed.  Luckily, Bo’s hold on me was so tight I barely moved.

“Focus,” he said, his voice right at my ear.  I could hear the hiss of the S.  I hadn’t considered how hard it must be for Bo.  “Mr. Hearst.”

With teeth clamped tightly shut, I struggled for another eternity to resist my most basic urge.  I fought it until the smell of the blood was no longer quite so painful, quite so powerful.  I fought it until I could concentrate on Mr. Hearst rather than the crimson heaven so close to my tongue.

“Open your mouth,” he said softly.

My trembling lips parted.  For a moment, Mr. Hearst was lost beneath the consuming anticipation of what I was about to taste.  But Bo must have known that because he paused. 

“Mr. Hearst,” he repeated.

When I was once again adequately distracted, Bo brought his wrist to my mouth.  Slowly, purposefully, I wrapped my lips around the   warm flesh and drank my first sip of blood as a vampire.

CHAPTER TWO

The taste of Bo’s blood was indescribable, a thousand times better than it had tasted as a human.  It was like sunshine and summer, midnight and silk, sex and chocolate all flowing over my tongue in thick waves. 

It exploded in my throat like a blast of intense heat.  I could feel it spreading through my body, working its way into my tissues, bringing them back to life, back to being.

After the first few gulps of liquid bliss, the excruciating thirst ceased to be the dominant sensation.  Another element in the tornado of feeling rose to supremacy.  It was desire.

I’d fought my overwhelming craving for Bo practically since we’d first met, but it was nothing like this.  Now it seemed magnified a thousand times.

As Bo’s blood bathed my flesh from the inside, his skin scalded it from the outside.  It seemed I was enveloped in Bo, surrounded by his flesh, filled with his tangy scent, a scent that now seemed to overpower even that of his blood.  I was hyper aware of his body at my back and I could feel the tension in his muscles as he wrestled with his own demons. 

Yearning poured through me, a physical desire stronger than anything I’d ever felt.  I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and fought the groan that lurked in the back of my throat. I couldn’t stop my body from squirming against him as my skin tingled with awareness and the need to be touched. 

As I moved, I became aware of just how much this was affecting Bo.  I could feel his hardness pressed against the small of my back.  With that knowledge, warmth gushed through me and set my core on fire.  I throbbed with want of him, with a carnal need so intense I tore my mouth away from Bo’s wrist just so I could breathe. 

I panted and fought for control, leaning my head back against Bo’s shoulder where he was folded around behind me.  I searched my surroundings for anything, anything at all that I could focus on to take my mind off the feeling that I needed Bo inside me more than I needed to live. 

I inhaled deeply, straining to maintain control of myself, but that was the biggest mistake of all.  There was something delightfully forbidden permeating the air.  It brought to mind images of damp skin and tangled limbs, of arched backs and open mouths. 

It was desire I smelled.  Bo’s desire.

His blood was hot with it.  It scented the air like a musky bouquet that made my skin feel sticky and warm.

“Ridley, please,” Bo groaned from behind me, his voice thick with a passion that matched mine.  “Think of something else.”

My head still rested on Bo’s shoulder.  I opened my eyes and turned my head just enough so that I could press my lips to his jaw.  I saw Bo close his eyes as he struggled to bridle his need.

“Ridley,” he repeated, his voice breathless and tortured.

I knew Bo was fighting and it was a testament to his control when he turned his face toward mine and pressed one gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth.  I wanted to dive into him, but he pulled back.  After several tense seconds, I felt his tongue. 

Bo licked at the blood that was smeared around my mouth and then he breathed my name.  I could smell the heavenly scent on his breath.  And then he kissed me. 

Bo drove his tongue deep, swirling the residue of his blood inside my mouth.  I felt a stab of something primal in two places at once—somewhere in my soul and somewhere south of my bellybutton.

When Bo pulled back, I could’ve cried.  I ached for him, but I knew before he spoke that we couldn’t let things get out of hand.  I was in deep and turbulent waters, and I knew that adding a new dimension to our relationship would not be wise.  There was too much at stake to make any mistakes.  We had to proceed with caution.

Though my thirst for blood was somewhat less, I felt frustrated in another way.  But despite that unfulfilled feeling, my head was clear enough to be grateful for and appreciative of Bo’s restraint.

“Sit up,” Bo gently commanded.

Obediently, I did as he asked.  Bo slid around me and off the bed.  When he offered me his hand, I saw that his form was looking weaker than it had before he’d fed me.  When I put my fingers in his palm, I saw that I was in virtually the same state—somewhere just shy of completely visible.