Infernal Affairs (15 page)

“Should I shut up now?”

“I’d never say something so crass. Not to you.”

He kissed me.

Lord Nightingale hadn’t tasted like anything, just emptiness. Lucian’s mouth was a very different story.

I bit his ear, which was a favorite pastime. He sucked in his breath. I moved my tongue down the length of his neck. He smelled like clean sheets and vanilla.

I unbuttoned my shirt. He rubbed small circles on my back with his hands. I curled into him. I could feel my whole body starting to move to its own rhythm. He kissed me again. His fingers were in my hair. I could feel what my body was doing to him. I could hear it in his breathing. His legs were shivering.

He reached under my skirt. Everything got very warm.

We took off the rest of our clothes. Lucian folded his boxers, placing them off to the side. For a moment, he just sat there, bacchanalian, legs spread, grinning at me.

Then I climbed on top of him. I wrapped my arms around his neck. He took one of my breasts in his mouth, and I closed my eyes. It was the first time all day I’d managed to squeeze out the rest of the world. Now there was only the heat of his mouth, the drag of his tongue, the barest press of his teeth. My consciousness was slowly becoming a merry-go-round, or a golden comet, flying faster and faster until I could no longer make out its trajectory. It spun and threw off sparks.

He slid away from me, getting down on his knees on the carpet. His tongue found me, and I grabbed onto his shoulders for support. He pulled me closer to his face, while his hands stroked me from behind. I must have been vibrating at a high frequency. The whole living room had a pale, crystalline cast to it, as if I’d already become a waveform. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling him closer, deeper. For the first time, I realized that his black hair was touched with silver.

His breath stirred me. I felt like he might tear something out, and I wanted it to happen. I wanted to feel riven clean, every part of me exposed to the air, the sting of palpation, the threat of contracting something, anything. Like a body on a slab, open for viewing.
Take it all. We’re going out of business. Even the organs are for sale.

I pulled him back onto the couch, settling on top of him. I guided him in, and we froze for a moment, both trembling slightly. He drew me close, kissing me. I bit his lip. He groaned. I knew that if I pressed deeper, I could draw blood. And for a moment, I wanted to. Instead, I traced his mouth with my tongue.

It was my rhythm. I began it, moving my hips, and he responded from beneath me. His hands were all over my body. I reached behind me, stroking his legs, then his feet. I grabbed onto his ankles, using them for leverage. He arched his back, pressing against me, and I thought we might shatter because we ground so hard into each other, rendering our bodies to sweat, salt, and oil.

He moved as I moved. His pace quickened.

“Wait,” I said. “I want you against the wall.”

We rose. The concrete floor was cold on my bare feet, but I was also sweating, which evened things out. I lifted my leg, mounting him. My hair was in his face. He wrapped his arms around me, and I climbed, and climbed, wondering at how good he felt, and at how precise my need had become. I climbed until there was nowhere left to go, and then I felt everything contract, like laces suddenly pulled tight.

I moaned. Lucian buried his face in my neck. He shuddered. I kept moving, still on fire, every curtain lifted and exposed to the darkness that lay beyond.

“Tess—”

I felt him let go. His breath hissed in my ear. I wrapped my fingers around his neck, holding him still. He sighed.

My thumb brushed the lily tattoo, just above his clavicle. I felt a shock. It was slight, but still very real.

I put my mark on you,
the Iblis had said. But what had it really meant? I’d seen the creature melt into a pool of bloody wax, so I knew that it wasn’t about to answer any of my questions. Still, I wanted to know. I wanted to know more about the man who belonged to this body, his body, still locked inside mine.

We stood for a while, breathing hard, unable to speak. Finally, when he’d recovered his composure enough, he took my hand and led me upstairs. It was already like a dream. I slipped into my side of the bed and was barely conscious of him throwing the comforter on top of me. I closed my eyes. He laid his feet atop mine. His hand was on my back, still.

I can’t remember anything else.

He walked with a slight limp, and there was still some bruising visible on his face. Other than that, he seemed his regular self. I kicked myself mentally for not pressing the matter with Miles when we’d last talked. Something had seemed wrong about the moment. And really, how do you bring up a question like,
Hey, do you feel like your boyfriend may have assaulted your mind lately?

Still, it might have been nothing but a hiccup.

He looked around as we stepped into the guest suite. “Hey, this place is swank. You should charge by the night.”

“It’s kind of a holding cell,” I said in a low voice.

Ru was sitting on the couch with his headphones on. When he saw us, he took out the earbuds. He looked Derrick up and down.

“You were at the morgue,” he said.

“I was. I like your pants. They’re a bit big, though.”

“Yes. They are voluminous.” He extended his hand. “I’m Ru. Am I doing this right? With my hand?”

Derrick took it. “Absolutely. Good shake.”

“Good shake to you, too. I assume you’ve come to read my thoughts.”

Derrick sat on the opposite end of the couch. “It doesn’t quite work that way. I might be able to get a blurry picture from your mind, but it’s not like reading an e-mail. If you don’t want me to see something, I won’t be able to.”

“I’m not sure that I believe you.”

“Ru—” I chose my next words carefully. “Derrick also has memories from that night, but he needs help recovering them. It’s not his intention to comb your mind for data. He just wants to try to reconstruct the events as faithfully as possible.”

Ru’s expression bordered on resignation, which seemed odd coming from someone who looked like a child. Then he shrugged. “You’re already digging into the earth. You might as well dig into my brain.”

“You must want to remember something about what happened to you.”

I felt like a terrible person as the words left my mouth. I was coaxing a young demon into reliving what was probably the worst night of his life.

“Remembering is hard,” he said. “But I guess it’s necessary. What must I do in order to assist you?”

“Just be still.” Derrick put his hands in his lap. “I don’t have to touch you. But you may feel something almost like a touch.”

Ru looked at me. “What’s your job? Do you guard the door?”

I sat in the wingback chair next to the couch. “I provide neutral energy. It lessens the chance that you and Derrick might cross wires.”

“And what does it mean to cross wires?”

“It’s nothing bad,” Derrick assured him. “Just think of her as a dehumidifier.”

Ru frowned. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Relax. I’m going to start now. If you feel uncomfortable, even a little bit, she’ll be right there. All you have to do is say her name.”

He nodded. “All right. Proceed.”

Derrick looked at the ground. As he began to draw slowly into himself, I heard his voice clearly.
If things get weird, grab him and close the door behind you. Don’t let me out of the room.

A chill went through me.
Is that really necessary?
I started to ask. But the conscious part of him was already gone.

All three of us were silent for about twenty seconds.

“What?” Ru asked suddenly. “I can’t hear you.”

Derrick said nothing.

Ru frowned. Then he swallowed thickly and made a face, like someone with a sore throat. “What is that? What are you doing?”

I wanted to ask the same question. Usually, Derrick was employed to read the minds of demons who were already dead. The last time I’d seen him read a human’s mind was when he was doing telepathy exercises with Selena. That was when he’d pulled a mysterious name from her mind.
Jessica.

“That’s a weird question,” Ru said, although now he wasn’t looking at either of us. “What kind of neighborhood do
you
live in?”

Derrick’s expression didn’t change. His pupils were pinned, and he stared at the carpet. His hands remained folded neatly in his lap.

Ru gave a small shudder.

His eyes lost their focus. He sank into the couch, seeming to wilt slightly. For what seemed like a minute, all I could hear was the sound of my own breathing. Then Ru spoke. His voice was the same, but his expression was almost vegetative.

“My dam’s name is Tyr. My sire’s name is Osh. We live in Four, under the cloud cover.” He was silent for a bit. Then: “I had a vapor-worm. He was my pet. One night he broke into the pantry and ate his way through my mother’s preserves. I wasn’t allowed to play with worms after that.”

I could see the dendrite materia gathering around Derrick’s body in white pops and flashes. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rising.

“I see him in the mirror,” Ru said. “I see his room. The walls are dark and made of wood. The floor is plastic, melted in places. The light makes it hard to see. My head’s spinning. But then it passes. I pass.”

Derrick’s hand moved slightly. I felt something cold and heavy brush past me.

Ru stood up, his expression changing.

“I don’t want to.”

I tensed. “Ru,” I said. “If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.”

But Ru wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at something invisible, something that brought tears to his eyes.

“There was blood,” he said, his lip trembling. “On my shoes. And his eyes were closed, but he knew that I was there. He said my name. I put my head in his lap, and he touched my hair. I could feel it.”

“Derrick.” I rose. “Stop. He needs a breather.”

He didn’t react. His eyes were glued to the carpet. His hands moved slowly up and down his jeans, as if ironing out creases. His mouth remained slightly parted, and I almost thought he was going to break into a smile. But there was nothing behind his eyes. They were wide, unlit rooms.

“He keeps telling me to go,” Ru whispered. “He keeps saying the same thing, over and over. There’s blood on my shirt, too. I don’t want to leave. What if I can’t ever come back? I don’t want him to be alone. I don’t want to be alone.”

I snapped my fingers in front of Derrick’s face. “Quit it.”

He grabbed my wrist.

His grip was surprisingly strong. I tried to yank my hand away, but he held on. His eyes narrowed slightly.

I felt an echo stir in my mind.

Derrick’s fingers were like ice. Colors danced at the edges of my vision. I raised a psychic defense. He leaned against my wall, gently at first, then with renewed vigor. The foundation started to crack.

“El!” Ru screamed. “Don’t! Please! I want to stay with you!”

I drew my athame, reversing it so that the hilt was extended. Derrick’s mind was scrabbling for purchase within my own. He was tugging on the substrate of my consciousness, shining light into the dark corners. His grip intensified, and I felt him pulling up threads of memory and desire, their root systems exposed.

I touched the hilt of the blade to his neck.

Light flared between us. I smelled smoke and pulled the blade away immediately. The pressure in my head dissolved.

“Did you just
burn
me?”

I winced as I saw the red mark already forming on his neck. “Sorry, hon. You were kind of trampling through Ru’s brain. And mine.”

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” He looked at Ru. “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I?”

Ru didn’t answer. When Derrick stretched out his hand, the demon flinched.

“I think we should leave Ru alone for a bit,” I said.

Derrick nodded slowly, rising.

“I’m really sorry,” he said again. His voice was broken. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to—”

Ru stared at the ground. He couldn’t look Derrick in the eyes.

“You can page Selena if you need anything,” I told the demon. “You know the number. We’ll be right outside.”

He was frozen for a moment. Then, like someone waking up from a dream, he slowly retrieved the remote from the arm of the couch. He turned on the TV and began watching a food documentary. He didn’t look at either of us.

I followed Derrick into the hallway. Once the door was closed, I started to say something. But his look of utter devastation stopped me.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he whispered.

He was shaking. I hugged him close.

“We’re going to figure it out,” I said.

 

 

The Sawbones was packed when we arrived. I
hadn’t been to the paranormal bar in quite some time, but tonight, it seemed like the perfect place for Derrick. He didn’t have to worry about violating any minds here. Nobody was going to open their dark, dirty thoughts to him, and some of them didn’t even have what could properly be called “brains,” at least neurologically speaking.

More important, alcohol deadened his powers. Until I could figure out what we might be dealing with, I wanted to keep his ESP as dull as possible. It lessened the chance that we’d have a repeat of his session with Ru.

We sat down at the only remaining table. There was no point in looking at the menu, since I already knew I was going to order the zucchini sticks, in spite of their dubious reputation. I also wanted an ale.

“So, this is how we’re figuring things out?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”