The Taste Of A Warrior

Part 18

Posted: October 2003
Author: Dhvana

*****

I wake up the next morning in the vice-like grip of a vampire who continues to sleep peacefully despite my best attempts to remove myself from his arms.

This isn't making any sense. What is he doing with his arms around me in the first place? I don't think we've managed to reach the point where we should feel comfortable sharing the same sleeping space. At least, I know he shouldn't. In fact, I feel a rather persistent urge to just stake the blood-sucking fiend right here and now.

But he looks so beautiful when he's asleep. No, not just beautiful, but quiet, innocent, his expression one of complete childlike trust. It's clear he feels safe in my arms.

How can you stake someone who looks like that when he's with you?

I can't.

Fuck. What an incredible vampire hunter I'm turning out to be.

Before I know what I'm doing, my hand is moving towards his face. I trace a finger down the bridge of his nose, over the feathery eyelashes resting on his cheek, across his too-soft lips. As I touch his mouth, he smiles in his sleep and kisses my finger.

Wonder who he thinks I am to be molesting him in his sleep--another vampire, perhaps? One of his myriad of undead lovers? Or does he know it's me?

"Orlando," I whisper. "Orlando, who am I?"

He doesn't answer. He just buries his head against my chest and sighs contentedly.

Bastard.

How'd we end up here, anyway? I remember him and that bitch kidnapping me, our ‘conversation' through the door before he let me out, and when he did finally let me out. . . I didn't leave.

Why didn't I leave?

I wanted answers, I know that much, but I didn't want to look at him. I couldn't look at him and not lose my head. I knew that if I stared into his brown eyes for too long, I'd forget everything I wanted to say, so I made myself comfortable on the sofa and blocked him from view.

Must have been more comfortable than I thought, because I guess I fell asleep.

And that son of a bitch took advantage of my unconscious state to sneak up on me and. . . and what? I'm still alive, so he didn't bite me. Except for his arms, I'm not otherwise being held prisoner. He snuck up on me so he could sleep? That doesn't make sense.

Wait a minute--he didn't bite me.

I reach for the bandage on my neck, and it's completely dry. I carefully rip it from my skin to see there isn't a single drop of blood marring the white cloth. My neck doesn't even hurt like it usually does. In fact, I don't think we even fucked in my dreams. I don't think he was there at all.

Does this mean the only peaceful nights of sleep I'll ever be able to look forward to again are going to be the ones I spend sleeping with him?

Not bloody likely.

I am not going to put up with that. I don't care if he looks like a three year old right now, I'm staking the bastard.

If I could just fucking move. I guess the only way that's going to happen is if I find some way to wake the bastard up.

"Let me go!" I shout into his ear. Not terribly nice, but at least it's effective.

The brown eyes fly open and he leaps off the sofa, looking around with a startled expression, his body tensed as if ready for a fight. Seeing me lying in a heap on the floor, he frowns, but his body doesn't relax.

"Colin? Is everything all right? Are you hurt?"

"I wasn't until you dumped me on the fucking floor," I growl, standing up and brushing myself off.

"Oh," he says, his cheeks turning pink. "Sorry."

"It's all right," I sigh, for some reason feeling guilty for making him feel guilty. "Probably deserve it for yelling at you like that."

He gives me an odd look. "Why did you yell at me like that?"

"I couldn't move and you wouldn't let me go."

"And now that you are free?" he asks, his face growing sober as if he's preparing himself for the worst.

"I'm leaving."

Apparently, that is the worst.

"Oh." His voice is soft as he turns his eyes to the floor, all light seeming to fade from his face. "Okay."

"For gods sakes, Orli!" I exclaim, exasperated, annoyed by how this hurts us both--that I hurt at all. "What did you expect? You're a vampire. I'm dinner. It isn't like we were going to ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after."

"Of course not. I'd burst into flames if we tried that."

I narrow my eyes at him. "You have a twisted sense of humor, you know that?"

"You have to be a little twisted to be a vampire."

"Yeah, well, you have to be a little twisted to be a vampire hunter, also, and I'm still not anywhere near as twisted as you."

"Give it some time," he shrugs. "I'm sure you'll catch up."

"If you're trying to win me over, it's not working."

"If I thought I had a chance, I'd be trying. Does this mean I have a chance?"

I growl deep in my throat, wanting to give him an outright ‘no', but the word refuses to hop off the tip of my tongue. I'll have to settle for an evasion. "It doesn't matter, not so long as you are what you are."

"You said before I could act normal when I want to. What if I acted normal around you? No killing, no drinking--I'll find my vampire off-switch and use it."

"You can act normal all you want, but it won't change the fact that you're a vampire. And I seriously doubt you have an off-switch."

"No, but at least we can pretend that the vampire side of me doesn't exist."

"Not forever, we can't."

"Then for a little while," he pleads, his brown eyes filled with such sorrow that it makes my heart ache. "Please, Colin, don't leave. I don't have to remember you to know now that I don't want to lose you."

Oh, for gods sakes. That has to be the sappiest thing I've ever heard, and I'll be damned if it doesn't work.

But no. I have to be strong. I have to be determined. One of us has to be reasonable about all this.

"Orlando, I can't trust you. How do I know I won't wake up tomorrow missing a pint or ten? How do I know I'll wake up at all?"

"You did this evening. I didn't touch you once today. You've got all the blood you came here with. Not to mention, you were able to fall asleep with me here, and you continued to sleep with me holding you. You couldn't do that unless something in you trusted me."

"I was too tired to know any better."

"So you should have gone home instead of napping on my couch."

Damnit. He's got to stop blocking my meager excuses with logic. "Look, Orlando, it just isn't going to work, okay? Me, living. You, dead. Me, sunshine. You, moonlight. Me, meat and potatoes. You, AB negative."

"Me, Tarzan. You, Jane. I get it. We're different. So what? You want to spend your life with someone exactly like you?"

"That's not what I'm saying and I am not fucking Jane!"

"If you stopped being so stubborn," he says, looking me over with a seductive gleam in his eye, "you could be fucking me."

Evil fucking parasite. One look, one little turn of phrase, and he can make all the blood in my body rush into my dick.

"I'm leaving now." Before I do something stupid I'll either regret or really really enjoy.

"What if I say no?"

I turn around to face him. "What?"

"What if I don't let you leave?"

All playfulness is gone from his voice and I feel a twinge of fear inside of me. He can't keep me here, he just can't. The other hunters, Marton, Elijah, they'll come looking for me. Or I can fight him. I don't care how powerful he is--I won't be his prisoner.

"This is how you build trust?" I ask coldly. "With threats?"

"I don't want to threaten you, but I don't want you to leave, either."

"Then you're going to have to come up with something better than that."

"How about a bargain?"

"A bargain," I say, making no effort to keep the skepticism from my tone.

"Yes. Though you may not believe me now, I can be reasonable."

I pause, arching an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"I'd like a kiss."

Please, tell me he did not just say that. "A what?"

"I'll let you go in exchange for a kiss."

A kiss. He's got to be fucking kissing me. Kidding me. Not kissing--kidding. He has to be kidding, because I am not going to let his fucking mouth anywhere near mine.

Though those full pink lips of his are definitely made for kissing--kissing and sucking and leaving a moist trail across my skin. . . Damnit, Colin! Focus. Repeat after me: Vampire. Vampire. Vampire.

"You're trying to mess with my mind again, aren't you? Well, it won't work, because I'm not going to let you."

"I'm not messing with your mind, Colin. All I'm asking for is a kiss, a single kiss. How can I hurt you with a kiss?"

Does he really want me to answer that question?

"What if I say no?"

"I believe you're familiar with your room?" he asks, nodding towards the door where he incarcerated me before.

"No. I am not going back in there."

"You may not have a choice," he says, his voice hard, then shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I know I'm not helping matters any. It's just. . . Colin, how can I feel this way about you and not try to keep you with me?"

A more pressing question for my mind is how can I feel this way about him at all?

"One kiss."

His eyes light up. "You mean it?"

"One kiss, and then I'm gone. Just. . . out of here," I say, trying to ease the alarm in his eyes. "For now. Until I can figure out what's going on."

"Okay," he nods. "Just out of here. I can agree to that."

He stands there, staring at me for a minute, and I start to wonder whether or not he's thinking of changing his mind. I just want to get this over with.

"Well?"

He stares down at his feet, his face almost bashful. "I'm a little nervous."

"For fuck's sake, Orli, we have kissed before."

Raising his head, he gives me a sharp look. "When did you start calling me ‘Orli'? Not that I object, but only my friends call me by that name."

Now it's my turn to feel a little bashful, and I stare at the wall behind him, not wanting to meet his eyes. "It's what I call you in my dreams."

"You do?"

His resulting smile is enough to make my heart want to burst with joy. He is too beautiful when he smiles. I'll have to get him frowning soon, or I truly will never be able to leave.

"Yeah, well," I shrug, trying not to let it seem like a big deal, "it's either that or ‘baby'."

"I like ‘baby'," he says with a saucy smile that makes my knees turn to custard.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Smile at me like that. It's cheating."

"How's it cheating?" he asks looking honestly confused.

"Because you're irresistible when you smile."

The smile returns with full force. "Then I'll try and hold back."

I just shake my head, rolling my eyes at him. "Would you just kiss me already?"

"How romantic. You really know how to make a man feel special."

Could he possibly be any more infuriating? "Orlando—"

Before I can even blink an eye, his arms are around me and his mouth is against mine. A volcano erupts in my veins and the world vanishes in a splash of crimson and flame. My dreams haven't done him justice--fantasies can't compare to the real Orlando, his body, his lips, his arms--wait, where'd his lips go?

He has pulled away, clearly prepared to end the kiss while my lungs gasping for breath, my heart pounding in my chest, my erection pressing painfully against my jeans--I am not going to let him do this to me.

Grabbing his shirt, I pull him back.

Wrapping a hand around his neck, I draw his head to mine, once more claiming his beautiful lips.

Thrusting him against the wall, I twine my fingers in his silky curls, tugging so fiercely, it must have hurt, but he doesn't seem to mind. He just growls, kissing me even harder so that his fanged teeth click against mine. I slide my tongue into his mouth, careful to avoid the sharp points this time. Our tongues slide back and forth across each other, and my heartbeat quickens a notch at the primal taste of him.

We need more.

He pushes a thigh between my knees, separating my legs, bringing our bodies even further into contact. Moaning, I can't help shifting my hips against him, needing the pressure against my groin, his own erection rubbing against my thigh.

And then he is gone. Again.

With a snarl of frustration, I narrow my eyes at him, trying to find the right words that will convince him to stay where he belongs.

"You've been more than fair," he says with his swollen lips, his hand grasping onto the back of the chair as if he needs its support in order to stay standing. "You're free to go."

"First, you lock me in a room, and now you can't wait to get rid of me? What the fuck is going on here?"

"I'm attempting to earn your trust, Colin. You gave me a kiss and, as promised, I will not stop you from leaving. I don't want you to think I'm trying to trick you into doing anything you don't want to do."

I don't know whether to strangle him or tie him to the bed until he comes to his senses.

No! I have to stop thinking like this. Take a deep breath, Colin. You don't want him. You certainly don't love him. So his kisses make you want to do back flips around the world and the need you feel for him is unlike anything you've ever known--a physical reaction is no reason to lose your head. I need to go. Now.

"You are right," I say, then walk past him and out the door. I pause for a second, to thank him for my release, but he is already turning away, his face twisted with pain. Not wanting to hurt him any more, I leave without saying another word.

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