Kristin Cast - Kisses from Hell

H e had listened to her words, but could only focus on her lips.

They had barely moved

yet said so much.

Sol wanted to press his close to hers and feel. Block out words and let bodies rush together.

He let his fantasies mellow before speaking.

“Come with me.”

He led her deep into his home and gestured for her to sit at a table covered in papers. Musical dots and tails flicked across the pages.

He took a seat across from her.

“The people you are from, their bodies are luminescent, their pupils consume and reach out for light. That light that courses through them gives us something here, Above.

Something that we must drain.

Something that we must drink.”

His lips parted. A row of teeth revealed. All the same.

He pushed his eyelids together.

Wait.

Two, different.

He had released his canines. Carved to points. Sharp. Deadly.

And gone.

“I do it for this. My music. What you heard, what awakened you, I cannot create

alone.

Without your people, their brilliance

I cannot imagine.

I, we are absent

of feeling, touching.

Of having

true emotion.”

Sol fluttered his fingers toward her, daring himself to touch.

“I do not need it to live;

I need it to be alive.

But you, Aurora, you are extraordinary.”

Her heart crept toward her throat. She wanted to pull him to her and sob thank-yous into his chest.

Am I home?

“Your touch can fill me with the same life I would have had to kill for.”

Aurora knew she should, but could not be disgusted by him and could not fear him. She had felt the same hooded emotions in her cell Below.

Those are not my people now. They never were.

Without thinking, she slid her hand on his. It was cool stone beneath her fingers.

His eyes began to roll back and he closed them, inhaling.

“What do you feel?” Aurora whispered.

Sol smiled and opened his eyes. Aurora sat before him, waiting for approval.

“Everything.”

She is beauty.

Sol reached across the narrow table and led her face to his.

Warm lips touched, pressed. Exchanged new feelings.

Warm lips pressed, parted. Connecting secrets.

He had circled the table without leaving her and now tucked her body within his. He kissed her deeper and felt his fangs jut out.

He pulled his mouth from hers.

His first time

embarrassed.

Aurora smiled and slid her finger back and forth across the points of his teeth. “It’s okay.”

She accepted him, wanted him completely.

No more waiting.

She pulled him back to her.

Music, his music, fell through her body.

Desire loosened her hands as she fumbled with buttons, zippers, ties. She had never wanted, never meant, never felt so much.

Love, home, she has found you.

N ight awoke and stirred sleeping promises.

Moonlight crept into the hidden two.

Killer. Coward.

Wake.

You must wake.

We must hunt.

The man sprang up. Fueled by the decay of his bed and sick, sweet pictures of a blood-covered girl.

Killer. Coward.

He scraped his drool onto the knife, charging it for its upcoming task.

Find her.

Killer her. The freak. The whore.

We must kill.

Now now now now nownownownownownownownow-nownownownow. GO!!!!!!!

He skittered across the floor of Above. She would be easy to find. He knew her voice. He knew her smell. He knew she was close.

S ol lay next to beauty, love. Staring into her as she spoke of her past, her dreams, hopes, wants, needs, love.

Not touching.

Still feeling.

She had changed him.

He had emotion without her touch. Within her, he had found himself.

“O f course, the first thing she’s gonna go do is hook up with one o’ them Others and be some murderer’s slut. But he can’t protect you now, no sir. He can’t protect you at all.”

His deranged rants were heard and answered:

You must teach her.

She needs to learn a lesson.

Bleed her, taste her, lick her dry.

She asked for it. For us to kill.

He slithered up up up. Tearing clothes, scraping flesh. Unaware of pain. His knife calm, waiting nestled between wet teeth.

Killer. Coward.

He had reached her. Rough bark stuck to his hands, sweaty with desire, anticipation. Night cloaked him, but he still stood in shadow, drinking in the moments before he was realized by his prey.

She asked for it.

Kill her.

He released the blade from his mouth and painted his lips with its excess spit.

Kill her.

His breath quickened, revealing his presence. She quickly turned and his body began to tingle.

“Let’s see what’s under that blanket, girl.”

Before she could scream, run, fight, feel, process, he was on her. She landed with a thwack on the wooden porch. Her blanket torn open as he sat on her twisting bare stomach. Four spider fingers fought past her teeth and pinned her tongue.

“Shh, shh, shh, don’t cry. It’s gonna be fun.”

S ol awoke to find the space next to him empty and the sun silent.

Every room.

Vacant, alone.

But the front door

open.

“Aurora? Are you out there?”

New feeling flooded.

Panic, misery, denial, anguish tore from his stomach, splashed at his feet, and bought Sol to his hands and knees.

“Nononononononono.” Whispers.

He crawled to her.

Innocent, beautiful.

Her mouth, eyes open. Her body, too white.

Too changed.

Only two colors:

Dirt.

Blood.

Brown and red fingerprints painted morbid petals across her slashed frame.

So much blood.

Too much blood.

And a word.

He saw it as he bundled her back in the blanket.

She looked so cold, alone.

She looked so cold, alone…dead.

A word carved.

A word carved into a cheek.

FREAK

He touched the leathery lettering. She had left him one last gift. Images flicked through his mind.

Of a man.

Of a knife.

Of Below.

A new emotion began to breed beneath his skin.

Rage?

Yes.

Always.

He tucked her into his bed.

Keeping her safe.

And robotically exited his home and stepped off the edge of the deck.

Dry leaves crunched under bare feet as he landed.

Blood, her blood, had dripped a trail of success that led to Below.

Sol followed. Feet so fast, he flew.

This man was no more. This lover, friend, companion, shelter, home

no longer in existence.

He had died with her.

I will kill you all.

W here the hunters exited, Sol entered. Only one man on guard. Eyes closed, feet propped, watching.

The tall black figure twisted the guard’s head.

Off.

Surprise.

No noise.

Only rage. Always rage.

The Other proceeded to the doorway, feeling along the walls as he went.

Blind. This is how she felt.

His throat began to descend to his stomach, and he forced it back.

Only rage. Always rage.

He reached the corridor. No one. This was their night. Their time for rest. He possessed too much power, was possessed by too much fury for their sleeping numbers to affect his plan.