He'll have to break all the rules to keep her, but first she has to break just one and let him in...
It's taken four years, but Anna Fray has finally put the past behind her. Mostly. She fills her days working in a bar and her nights watching bad ro...
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This was nothing like the kiss from seconds ago. It wasn't feathery and tingling. It was slow, sensual, and intense. The way he kissed was in complete contrast with my pounding heart. I was racing at too many beats per minute, frantic and flurried, even though our lips moved in slow, exploring motion. My fingers buried themselves deeper in his hair as I pulled his face closer, needing something to hold onto as pure want shot through my body.
Aslo coughed obnoxiously.
"I hate to be a buzz kill-" he said in a tone that showed he didn't hate it at all, in fact I'd bet he was positively giddy at interrupting. "-But we still have this little problem to deal with," he finished, lifting Olivia's unconscious hand and waving it in some macabre puppet show.
I stemmed a shiver as Atticus released a low grumble of frustration and slowly unwound his grasp. With each inch he retreated, I felt the need to follow him with a hold of my own. As if my hands could follow his like seabirds chased the ebbing tide.
His eyes fixed on my lips as he hovered close enough for me to feel the heat of him emanating into the space between us. I could almost taste him on my tongue. His own slipped across his lower lip before he pulled it between his teeth. All the while, his eyes burned like a starving man in front of a feast.
With an aggravated huff he stepped away from temptation and ran a hand through his hair, leaving me to daydream about what it would be like to one day be devoured.
With a smirk, Aslo hauled Olivia into a chair similar to the one R had strapped me to and bound her tightly.
"Will that hold her?" I asked as I eyed the ropes running rings around her wrists and ankles.
"It will while we have this," Aslo replied as he grabbed Olivia's book from where Atticus had thrown it. I had thought the Watcher might have had some variation in what their books looked like, but it seemed black leather was the standard issue. Olivia's wasn't as worn as Atticus', or half as full, but it still had that soft, supple, quality that made me want to run my fingers over the cover.
Aslo flared the worn pages with a bored expression, before holding it firmly against his chest and wrapping two thick arms across it.
"Thoughts, feelings, emotions?" he asked Atticus lightly.
"I could try to wipe her memory." An uncertain crinkle appeared between his eyebrows as he spoke.
"We can't glamour another Watcher."
"That's because we can't see their memories to change them." Deep in thought, Atticus looked over Olivia, wedging his hand in his hair, as if that small amount of pain could spark something.
His face brightened as he looked to Aslo and pulled his book from his back pocket. "I don't need to use her memories to build new ones, I only need to remove them."
A gleam of dark wonder lit Aslo's eyes as he murmured, "why change when you can obliterate?"
He glanced down at Olivia with a momentary flash of compassion. "What about the Order of Chaos bullshit?"
