Dark Solace (22 page)

“I am a little nervous,” I admitted.

Lash gave me a surprised look. “Are you
sorry?” he asked seriously.

“No,” I said, reaching out to take his hand.
“But you look so different; it’s still a shock to see you so young.
And you’re talking a lot more than you ever did before.”

“Snakes are quiet,” Lash said with a shrug.
“Now I can be completely human without the snake part of me being
present. I always liked talking to you, Sar.”

I gave him a smile, then sipped my wine.

“You know they have a pool table here. It’s
just over there,” he teased.

I kicked at him again. He evaded my kick and
laughed.

Well, I could tease, too. “They have a juke
box too,” I said pointedly.

Lash gave me confused eyes. “So? You want
some money to play something?”

“I want you to dance with me. I have change
in my purse.”

“No,” Lash said, pouring us the rest of the
bottle. “I don’t dance.”

“C’mon,” I said teasingly. “One song.”

“I can’t,” Lash protested. “I never learned.
I’ll step on your feet.”

“Then I’ll teach you,” I said, offering my
hand.

Lash looked at me with a wry smile that said
he knew he was going to be sorry for this. He downed his glass of
wine, probably for courage. “You had better keep this a secret,
too,” he said, getting up.

He followed me to the juke box. It was one of
the newer ones, with access to thousands of songs online. “What are
you going to pick? I’ve never used one of these newer ones
before—”

Letting him pick or even give input might be
a disaster. I hurriedly chose Joe Cocker’s “When the Night Comes,”
then motioned Lash to come over to me. As the music started, I put
his arms around me at my waist, and put my arms around his
neck.

Lash stood there, looking unsure. So I
shifted my weight from foot to foot and we shuffled together,
swaying awkwardly. He was right, he couldn’t dance. I was surprised
that he could be so graceful as a snake and be this uncoordinated.
All his grace was absent as he moved stiffly in my arms. It was
funny, and also sweet that he didn’t feel proficient, and was still
willing to do it for me.

We’d only danced for maybe a minute when I
noticed we’d garnered the attention of a bunch of jocks drinking at
the bar. They looked college age, maybe Ivy League, or maybe on a
research trip. They were shooting looks at one another and
laughing, then pointedly staring back at Lash and me.

I didn’t care. I was having fun. I hadn’t
been able to hear what they said anyway. But Lash heard it and his
eyes went flat instantly. He hissed in anger, then shot them a
nasty glance. At once, he escorted me back to the table.

“Stay here, Sar,” he hissed furiously. “I’ll
be right back.”

I sat down, watching Lash stride over to
them, then downed the rest of my wine in one swallow, suddenly
worried.

Lash stood in front of their table, then
folded his arms across his chest. “Fucking shut your mouths,” he
hissed in a cold, cold voice. “Or I’ll hurt you.”

Most of the group saw he meant business, and
went quiet immediately, looking away from him. But one decided to
mouth off instead. “Get out of here, loser! You think you’re
Indiana Jones or something, with that whip—”

Lash uncoiled his whip in a flash with a
flick of his wrist, and then he let it fly, shattering the light
above them. The glass showered down on them in a rain as they
covered their heads, yelling.

The bartender reached under the bar. Was he
was getting a shotgun, or calling 911? Shit, we didn’t need the
police here. The last thing we needed was to be on the news, or end
up in jail.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Lash snarled. The
group of jocks ran, slipping a little in their haste to get away
from him, their pitcher of beer falling to the floor to smash into
pieces.

Lash lashed out with his whip again, sending
the end to wrap itself around the bold kid. He yanked backwards,
the kid flying through the air to land at his feet. Lash dropped
his whip, then grabbed him by the neck. “You fucked with the wrong
guy, dickweed—”

The bartender cocked the shotgun, pointing it
at Lash from a few inches away. “Drop him!”

Lash held the kid up in front of him as a
shield. “Go ahead. Blow him away, old man. You’d be doing the world
a favor—”

I had to stop this. Someone was going to get
hurt!

“I said, drop him!”

In a dexterous motion, Lash grabbed his whip
from the floor. With a sharp crack, he jerked the gun out of the
bartender’s grip with his whip, and tossed it twenty feet behind
him. The bartender leaned on the bar, hissing in pain. God, was his
wrist broken?

Lash stared into the kid’s terrified eyes.
“You see that woman, the one you were making fun of? You look at
her real good, because her being here saved your life, you fuck.
I’ve killed younger kids than you for less.”

He drew his knife, then held it to the kid’s
throat. The kid wet himself, urine streaming down his pant leg.

“You can’t hold your beer,” Lash hissed
scornfully. “Leave, jackass, before I give you another hole to pee
out of.”

He dropped the kid, who flailed on the floor,
crying, before he crawled for the exit, finally getting to his feet
by the door. He dashed outside, leaving the screen door wide
open.

Lash sheathed his knife, then walked over and
grabbed the bartender hard by the front of his shirt, pulling him
up and slightly over the bar. The bartender took one look at Lash’s
fangs, and cringed backward.

“We’re leaving,” Lash hissed. “Here’s a
hundred for a new light. You know what’s good for you, you won’t
call the police, or anybody else. Or I’ll come back and see you
some night. Got it?”

The man nodded. Lash shoved him backward hard
enough he fell behind the bar. After leaving some money in a pile
on top of the bar, Lash sauntered over to me. “Ready to go?”

I nodded. I was more than ready to go. Not
meeting his eyes, I followed him out, stepping gingerly over the
broken glass and spilled beer.

“Sorry about that,” Lash hissed, putting his
arm around me as we walked back to the hotel room. “Young people
today have no manners.”

I didn’t reply, too shocked at the ease with
which he’d gotten violent. While Devlin had just as much violence
in him, even he wouldn’t have trashed a human-owned bar. At least,
I didn’t think he would. Lash wasn’t sorry at all; he’d enjoyed
making that kid piss himself. That was the type of man he was. I’d
better remember that just because he’d been gentle with me didn’t
change that fact.

“What did he say?” I asked as we walked.
“That kid in the bar?”

“Never you mind,” he said, anger immediately
in his tone. “He was a no-good fuck.”

Okay, then. “I can’t take you anywhere,” I
said lightly, and hesitantly leaned into him.

“I’m bad company,” he said self-mockingly,
with a touch of pride. “But he deserved it.”

“Yes, but I wanted some more chocolate,” I
teased.

Lash nodded. “I’ll drop you off at the room,
and go get some, then—”

“Not so fast!” I teased, giving him a smile.
“You owe me a dance still, Mr. Lash.”

“Come with me then,” Lash said, and switched
direction, heading toward his truck parked a few feet away.

I leaned back against it as he rummaged
inside. “Aren’t you worried someone will report what happened?”

“Neither of them will,” Lash replied with a
sneer. “No man ever wants to admit he pissed himself, or that a man
took his gun without it being at gunpoint.” He cranked the engine
to life. Suddenly, loud music began blaring from the trucks stereo
system. I roared with laughter, holding onto the truck so I didn’t
fall down. He’d put on Thoroughgood’s “Bad to the Bone.” “Is this
like your theme song or something?” I said, laughing.

I looked up to see him sauntering toward me,
baring his fangs a little, his eyes flat. Abruptly I stopped
laughing, and backed up a little bit. Lash kept coming, his walk
purposeful, his eyes fastened on me. He reached out and grabbed me,
his hands sliding down my arms to grasp my hands. He planted them
on his hips, just below his knife and whip. “Move me,” he said,
slipping his arms upwards to hold me loosely

While the song was campy, it had a good beat.
I gripped his hips in my hands, and began to move. In a few
seconds, Lash and I were slowly swaying together to the beat of the
song, as he followed the gentle pressure of my hands. All at once
he seemed to get it, his movements in sync with mine. I slid my
arms up from his waist and held him around his neck. Lash slipped
his hand up from my waist to run his fingers into my hair, then
cupped my face in his hand. Holding my eyes with his, he swayed to
the beat with me, his hand on my cheek, caressing me slightly with
the tips of his fingers.

Lash’s eyes were dark, dark as the blackest
night, darker than Danial’s had ever been, and I wanted to lose
myself in them, as I’d lost myself in his arms earlier today. I
slid my hand up from his shoulder then, and put my hand on his
cheek. He faltered briefly, losing the rhythm, then found it again
quickly, his eyes never breaking with mine.

Lash leaned in closer, our faces just a few
inches apart, as we moved to the music.

“How am I doing?” he whispered, putting his
cheek alongside mine.

I didn’t answer him, lost in enjoyment of his
strong, lean body against mine moving to the beat of the music.

“Sar,” he said, pulling back from me so his
lips were an inch from mine. “Answer me.”

“Good,” I whispered hungrily, looking into
his dark, dark eyes. “You’re doing good.”

Lash looked at me, then slowly opened his
mouth, his hooked fangs growing before my eyes. “I can be better,”
he hissed softly, then kissed me consumingly, twining his tongue
around mine, still swaying to the music with me.

By the time the song was over, I was panting
with desire, and we were no longer dancing. Lash had me backed
against the side of his truck, and we were kissing each other
ravenously, his erection pushing into my groin eagerly through his
straining jeans.

“I want you,” I said hoarsely, breaking the
kiss. I reached down into his jeans, cupping his swelled flesh.

“You’re getting me,” he hissed with a groan,
pulling away from me. “But I’m not doing you out here, where
everyone can see us.” He shut off the truck, locked it, then took
my hand, walking fast towards the room.

We made it to the room in record time. Lash
swiped the card, then kicked the door open. Grabbing me, he undid
his pants, then tackled me on the bed, pulling off my jeans as he
wriggled out of his own. Then he was inside me, his lips everywhere
kissing, his forked tongue tweaking and teasing as his hands
caressed me. I was frenetic beneath him, moaning and writhing, his
every motion within me both bliss and torturous tease. We came
together screaming, clutching one another, our bodies
shuddering.

“God,” Lash panted, rolling onto his back. “I
should’ve learned to dance decades ago. I had no idea it was such a
turn on.”

“Maybe you just needed the right instructor,”
I teased, stroking his still stiff penis.

He put his hand over mine, caressed the back
of my hand gently, then let go. “I did.”

I rolled on my side, facing him. “I have to
ask; why didn’t you want to, outside? You’ve...I mean, we’ve done
other—”

“You mean me,” Lash hissed tiredly. “You’re
right, I’ve done stuff that wasn’t private at all. But that wasn’t
my choice, ever.”

“Lash,” I said sarcastically, withdrawing my
hand. “You tried to raise The Lust in front of Theo in a parking
lot.”

“I know, I know,” Lash said, holding up his
hand. “What I did was bad. But I wouldn’t have let you be
embarrassed that day, even if you had reacted like I wanted.”

I gave him a skeptical look. “There’s no way
I wouldn’t have been.”

Lash turned his head. “I’m not stupid. I knew
that the window was closing, that soon you wouldn’t want me
anymore. I had to try, if there was even a chance. It was too good
with you not to.”

“That wasn’t me,” I said softly. “The real
me.”

“I didn’t ask you for lunch trying to get
sex,” Lash hissed wearily. “I wanted to spend time with you, like I
do now. But you’d practically given me permission to raise it in
you. And so when our walk was done, I was going to try to raise it
one last time.” He squeezed my hand. “I had rented us a room
earlier that day, Sar, in a hotel across from the Japanese
restaurant. If things worked out, I was going to take you there. I
was furious with Theo for spoiling it, when I wanted you so much
and it was so close to happening. So I kissed you and hoped for the
best. I knew he’d forgive you after, even if he’d want to kill me
for what I’d done. And if I could raise it, he’d let me have you
until it was sated, even if he waited outside the door with his gun
so he could try to kill me right after.” He squeezed again. “I
wanted to be with you again, however I could.”

“You have been,” I said, hugging him. “You
got your wish.”

“That and more,” Lash said, kissing my hand.
“But you wished for chocolate. You still want some?”

“I’ll eat whatever you bring back,” I
replied, stretching. “But chocolate would be nice.”

Lash returned shortly with some hamburgers,
French fries, and dessert for us. He devoured his, then fed me my
fries, missing my mouth purposely, so he could kiss the ketchup
away. We shared the towering quarter wedge of moist chocolate
cake.

“I’m glad you can share this with me,” I
said, feeding him a piece.

Lash chewed, then gave me a smile that
contained a little pain. “The flesh and blood diet was tedious,
even if it was a normal snake diet. That’s why I enjoyed the sushi
so much, and the other things you made for me. Seeing and smelling
food I couldn’t eat was awful.”