The Blood Moon

Special

Dean directed me to Antonov's study without hesitation.  My past self noticed how he skipped his way down the hall, doing his best to be a dutiful friend by remaining at my side, while also tripping over himself to get me to move faster.  At the time, I chalked it up to exhaustion and perhaps alcohol, but the me that sat in the back seat, watching it all unfurl, knew that his job had always been to see me to the study and his giddiness sprung from the anticipation of his coming reward.

Internally I sighed.  A small part of me thought to worry, to fear what was ahead, but my soul was too torn to pieces, too tired to even bother with the anxiety.  It all seemed so clear to me now.  Antonov knew what Everett would be doing in those woods and knew that I still didn't know the truth.  He used the one person in town he could get to do his bidding that wasn't restricted by a blood link.  Dean was a tool.  One that Antonov wielded with precision to nudge me in the right direction so that my bond with Everett could be severed and his chances of securing me as his newest bride increased.  Part of me hated him.

Another part of me wondered if that would be so bad.

He might have been a lecherous vampire, but he was good to his wives.  Even Natasha was treated with care despite her behavior.  Plus, he had always been upfront about his intentions.  His wives all knew that he would live a polyamorous life and all, but Natasha, seemed to be comfortable with that arrangement.  Could I be comfortable with that arrangement?

Dean knocked on the study and a smooth, deep voice bid him entry.  With a concealed smile that threatened to burst into a blissful grin, my companion held the door open for me and ushered me through before closing it behind me.  My past self paid no mind to what became of my fellow Body after that, but I envisioned him sprinting down the hall at full speed as he made his way to whatever lounge Zelda was using as her own private blood buffet.

"My dear Delilah," said Antonov, who stood before his plush velvet couch and the roaring fireplace that provided the only light in the room, save for a few candles around the periphery.  "Mr. Showalter told me that you..."

I didn't even have time to muse over the possible techniques that Antonov would employ to coerce me into his arms.  Instead, I found myself already entwined, thanks to my own machinations.

As he recited what might have been a well rehearsed speech about what tragedy I witnessed, my past self sprung from the door and threw my arms around his neck, pulling myself up so I could reach the tall vampire's lush lips.  In my haste, and inexperience, I simply jammed mine upon his with ravenous hunger.  Inwardly I cringed, but to my relief, the very experienced vampire had the courtesy not to point out my sloppy offering.

"Delilah," said the vampire with a chuckle that hinted at the flicker of astonishment in his voice, "not that I am displeased with this display, but this is rather unexpected."

No kidding, I thought.  Thankfully Hen had the decency not to weigh-in on the matter as well.

As for the me of my past, after Antonov maneuvered his lips away from mine, my view of him disappeared because I'd closed my eyes and began pecking the skin of his neck.  Without visuals, my memories focused upon the way he smelled of spicy citrus with the sting of iron lingering in the background; on how his arms encircled me, resting against my lower back as one of his hands climbed up the bare skin of my spine; and on the flavor of his flesh as my tongue peeked out from between my teeth in an effort to further tease and tantalize his skin.

"Oh Delilah," he said with a deep resonating purr that I could feel vibrating inside his chest, "we can't continue on like this."

The hands that had been exploring my back, tensed for a moment before dragging across my sides and placing their palms onto my stomach.  With a subtle nudge he attempted to push me away, though that only made my own arms grow taut with indignation.