Erasure and Affirmation (Hypernaturals 11)

New Problems

We were lazing around the house the next morning, talking. Denise is doing Crew Head stuff in the Living Room since Morgan said she did not care where she did it.

I am wondering if it is too early to drink.

Denise looked up from her work. "You are in a serious place."

"Shouldn't I be?" I asked.

"You, being you Adrain, cannot now kill your rapist, or let anyone else do it either. I understand. I still want to kill her myself, but I understand. She is an addict." Denise said with sympathy. Also some respect, I thought.

I leaned forward to look at my self-designated protector. "That is true. What: Did you hear us talking in bed last night?"

"What I did not hear from the bedroom last night is love as expressed physically. The revelations of yesterday sickened you, and I am guessing, again knowing you, that you wanted cuddling. I also note that Angel went to bed with YOU, not her fiancé. When you are getting Angel therapy, you are in need of soul-soothing, not necessarily sex." Denise pointed out.

I leaned back. Great. Another person who can read me like a damn book. "Now you know why you are head of Crew." I said.

"I never said I am not smart. Only that I do not enjoy the job. I compare my tenure on Crew as being in the same category as yours with Liaison. You hate it. You do it." Denise said.

"We talked about it last night. The four of them and myself. You should have crawled in. We would have had quorum, and there was no danger of nookie."

"Nookie is not a danger." Denise said. "I am sorry I was not there to talk. Cuddle even. You are not the only one that needs hugs."

"It as you say: I can't ask anyone to kill an addict. She is sick, but it's not merely rapist sick, though it is that too. That is a symptom. Moral people needing a cocaine fix have done worse than this before. I am not sure what to do with her. I think we need to study her, to understand this new thing. If Sirens evolved to be resistant to Juice, that there is a version that has this as a result is not a shock. I'd be willing to bet Sandy has Siren genetics in her."

"Yet you cannot now do anything with your personal violation. You were violated. It does not matter why you were. That she had an excuse does not take that away. It happened to you." Denise pointed out.

"You do understand."

"I was raped too, Adrian." Denise said gently. "When I was human. I became a prostitute in part because I was spoiled. No man would want me as a wife. My family could not afford me as it was, and then I was stained. Unmarryable. My parents tossed me out into the world, violated and alone, and the only way I could support myself was to let men enter my body. I understand."

"I don't. Not me, and not you either. How did you live with that? You love sex now. So I hear." I asked.

"I love sex. That is true. I turned. A female customer was a Vampire, and she chomped me. Her thing was that she liked my human self that much. This shape. This hair down to my ass. A teenage ass, or course. Not this one. For her it was something along the lines of how Helen came to turn Jessica, except she PAID me very well to be able to screw me. Better than any male customer ever did up to that point. By then, I was pretty good at sex: Experienced. Nothing like now either. Young. Sexy. Willing. Able. Human."

Sexy comes in a lot of flavors. I personally have never been attracted to 'young' as part of the equation. It is easy to see now, nearly six centuries later, the appeal. Denise is sexy. Not classic beauty, like Helen. Not Amazon, like Jessica. Not Morgan's dark good looks and stunningly intelligent cobalt eyes. Denise's apparent softness and honey-colored hair and matching eyes create their own set of promises. They are also deceptive as hell, like any other Vampire. Denise is head of Crew. The apparent softness a lie. I did not interrupt the story to comment.