《Moonborn》13.2: fairytales of yesterday
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Slowly, reluctantly, Zoë pulled herself from a deep sleep. Her body ached and her brain felt wrapped in cotton as she blearily opened her eyes. The afternoon sun slanted through the sliding glass door around a familiar profile. It looked like a friend—but who? She had a dreamlike certainty that all her friends had turned against her recently.
Then Tyler ran his hand through his hair and memory came rushing back. She made a little sound, half-sob, half-whimper. His scent and presence permeated her room, as if he’d been there a long time.
He turned his head and took a step toward her, his eyes glinting in the light reflected from her dresser mirror. “Hey, babe. Did you have a nice nap?”
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice creaky. She tugged the cover to her chin, curling up under it. Tyler had cleaned himself and changed his clothes, but she could still vividly remember the blood running down his arms as he grinned at her.
“Aw, are you still asleep? Or just sulking?” He crossed the room to kneel down at her bedside. The instinct to kick him uncoiled restlessly, but ran up against the realization that her legs were bare; that she’d gone to sleep wearing nothing but panties and a camisole.
She closed her eyes and didn’t answer, as if she could go back to sleep. When his cool fingers brushed over her cheek, she couldn’t stop her mouth and eyes from tightening, but she didn’t pull away.
He stroked her forehead. “Don’t you know what I want?”
Zoë shook her head instinctively, her eyes still closed, and he laughed. Then he leaned down until his lips brushed her ear. “You.”
It was too much. She flailed at him, shoving herself to the far side of her bed, picking up her pillow and hugging it to her chest as she stared at him wide-eyed. “Stop it! You’ve won. I’m sorry your mind control doesn’t work on me. I wish it did. You don’t need to keep trying to mess with my head.”
Tyler sat on the edge of the bed, and the afternoon light illuminated the angular planes of his face. She could see his inhumanity now, and wondered how she’d missed it. Like Lucien, like... She shook the useless, scary thought away. But while Lucien’s human form had looked nearly ethereal, Tyler looked almost human, with all the softness time brought stripped away.
He pulled his mouth to one side, and it was another expression she knew so well. “Well, here’s the thing. I’m not trying to mess with you now. Not the way you think, anyhow. I want to keep you with me even if things go wrong.”
She kicked at him again. “Bullshit. You were never interested in me, just in Ainsel, right? You wanted her, because she’s—” Once again, she choked on the thought and stifled it. “I’m just a trophy in this sick game you’re playing. What did you do with Lucien?”
“Did he kiss you?” Tyler’s voice was notably cooler, and she thought about saying yes just to be spiteful. But that idea frightened her as well.
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“I don’t remember,” she said sullenly instead. “I doubt it. I was probably just a tool for him, too.”
Something flared in Tyler’s eyes. “He’s more dangerous than I expected. Ainsel would have been far less trouble.”
Zoë released her protective pillow to put her hands to her ears. He promptly took the advantage and pulled the pillow away, his gaze dropping to take in her barely clothed body.
“No—give me that back!” She grabbed at the pillow but he tossed it off the bed, catching one of her hands in his. With effortless strength, he pulled her away from the wall and across his legs, until she was sprawled in his lap. One hand held her hip, while his other hand was a cool pressure on the back of her camisole.
“I never touched you before, and that’s why you don’t believe me now, Zoë?” His fingers on her hip stroked across her bare skin. “But I was mostly just human Tyler all that time, and I liked you. Taking you away from Ainsel would have been easy, but then you wouldn’t have been Zoë anymore. Not for me.”
Zoë couldn’t process what Tyler was saying. The ease with which he’d yanked her into his lap had paralyzed her. He’d reminded her once again that she was utterly powerless. She looked up into his reddish-brown eyes and knew that if she tried to run away, he’d simply find her and bring her back.
“I hate you,” she whispered.
He smiled. “You’ve said. It’s very reassuring.”
Without conscious will, she smacked him hard in the face and scrambled away from him onto the floor, trailing her sheet behind her. She crawled to her desk rather than the sliding door, because she craved a place to hide over having her back exposed to the woods. When she glanced over her shoulder, she found Tyler leaning forward, his hands clasped between his knees, watching her as if she’d never struck him.
“That’s insane,” she told him. “You’re insane.”
“No. I’m a Night Master, and the world is… different from my perspective. You’ll see.”
Zoë pulled back into the footwell of her desk. She barely fit, which suited her just fine at that moment. He watched her another moment before saying, “If I had the time, I’d work to win your trust again. I should. I should have the time. Everything’s going well. We’ve got the unicorn, and I’ve given Bradley the pattern for the collar. But it bothers me that Ainsel and Remy are still missing. And there’s something else…” He fell silent a moment and then shook his head. “So I won’t wait. If this doesn’t work, I want to know you’re safe.” He flashed a smile, as if she understood his incoherent ramble. “It’ll keep me motivated.”
He stood up and stretched. “You’re very cute in there, you know. Like a snuggly turtle.” His hands behind his head, he walked to the sliding glass door and opened it. The breeze from outside carried the smell of cut grass and the sound of a distant lawnmower, reminding Zoë that somewhere not very far away, something resembling the real world existed. Perhaps, like the students at the school, the rest of the town had been brainwashed by Tyler—but if so, they seemed to still be doing normal things. She hated them, too.
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Tyler looked out the door for a moment, visible between the slats on the side of the desk. Puzzled, she wondered if he was about to leave, and what she’d do if he did. Then he turned to the desk, hooked his fingers between the slats and lifted the whole thing, computer equipment and all, off Zoë. As she cowered under a shower of desk miscellany, he tossed the desk out into her yard. The splintering crunch of pressed wood was much louder than the distant lawnmower.
While Zoë gaped, Tyler crouched down where the side of the desk had been. “This will be a lot easier if I don’t have to fight you every step of the way. But I will if I have to, Zoë.”
Bewildered, she gathered up her sheet, looking around. Without her desk (her computer, her screen, her printer, all smashed now) her room seemed strange and unfamiliar. Just like her life. Just like her world. The thought settled in her chest. It felt oddly liberating. Of course she couldn’t hide from a monster like Tyler in the shelter of her ordinary life.
“Come on. What do you have to lose?” he said encouragingly, holding out his hand to her.
“I still don’t know what crazy thing you’re talking about.” Her voice cracked halfway through.
He raised his eyebrows. “I want to make you immortal.”
And although part of her wanted to scoff and kick him away again, the part of her that had been liberated by the destruction of her desk instead asked, “How?”
He smiled in a way that exacerbated her discomfort. “It’s tricky, usually. But it won’t be for you. Your resistance gives you a natural advantage.” His fingers slid around her hand and he pulled her to her feet.
She resisted instinctively, which only made him slide his arm around her waist. Once again, she was vividly aware of how little she wore. Effortlessly he held her against him, her breasts pressed against his chest. Every time she inhaled, she could feel more than she wanted to. “That’s… not an answer.”
“Let’s sit down, and we’ll play a little game. You ask your questions and I try to convince you my way.” He looked down at her, but he wasn’t looking into her eyes. Then, with a little huff of breath, he sat them both on the bed, keeping one arm around her waist. Her body stiff, she leaned away when he touched her cheek. He leaned after her, catching her head. As he’d done before, his mouth was suddenly hot against hers—but he was far gentler this time, delicately moving his lips over hers as if toying with her. The stiffness drained from her spine, her resistance weakening against the teasing eroticism of his mouth.
His mouth moved up to her ear, where he spoke softly. “The usual way of intentionally making a new Night Master is by forging three crimson bonds between old and new Masters.” His tongue flickered along her ear’s curve.
Feebly, Zoë pushed at his chest. “You really don’t have to kiss me. Please. It makes everything worse when you do that. I feel like you’re punishing me and I don’t understand why. You were my friend.”
Both his hands curved around her waist. “Babe, babe… This is the only way.” His thumbs slid under her camisole, stroking the soft flesh of her abdomen. The shock of the touch rippled through her body. “I have to forge the first crimson bond, so you’ll be mine, no matter what happens.”
“I’m yours already, aren’t I?” she muttered bitterly.
“You’re only human right now. Once I form the bond, you’ll be just a little bit more. My power will be in you, growing.” His thumbs slid up, lifting her camisole and stopping just at the undercurve of her breasts. Once again he kissed her mouth, light and teasing.
Zoë struggled to think against the sensations presented by her body. She felt guilty and embarrassed that she couldn’t seem to completely convince herself that what he was doing was all bad. But that same part of her that had wanted to know how to become immortal pointed out that the way Tyler was touching her couldn’t be all bad because she was enjoying it.
A shudder ran down her spine. She couldn’t escape him. She wanted to, oh yes. His touching and kissing was a darkly pleasurable dream, but if she could trade him for Ainsel and her mother’s freedom, there’d be no question of her choice.
But that wasn’t an option. It wasn’t even on the menu.
Was it?
What if Ainsel was still out there? Trapped by Remy like Zoë was trapped by Tyler?
She broke away from his kiss, turning her head so he could nibble on her ear. “I’d have some of your power?”
“That’s how it works. Don’t worry. With the pack here, I’ve got plenty to share.” He nuzzled her hair and moved his hands higher. “Any more questions, or can I get started?”
The shock of the pressure of his fingers against soft, sensitive skin made Zoë gasp. Her heart was racing and fire scorched her veins. She was going to do this. She was going to let him do this, without fighting, because there was no point in fighting. Because in surrender she saw something more. Some of his power, in her.
“One more thing,” she mumbled. “You’re like a vampire, right?”
“I knew you understood,” said Tyler, and moved his mouth to her throat.
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