The Nightlife: New York - Chapter 17

Michelle watched Aaron as he kept his distance from her, cold and sterile, going along to get along. After four nights of this, she had reached the limit of her patience for his brooding silence. Every time she engaged him in conversation he blocked her, refusing to speak apart from a direct question. His mind remained closed, barely a hint of his thoughts. Only the slightest taint slipped past his barrier once in a while. These small glimpses never contained anything positive.

He was going sour fast.

Something had to change before they reached an impasse where she might be forced to take action. She might have to kill him.

She learned more from his aura than from their bond. He had bold colors of anger and resentment streaking through his emotions. She’d never seen this side of him before. His cold negativity saturated everything. Their time together had become mechanical, no elements of friendliness.

Michelle considered ending it now. She’d done it once before. It wasn’t impossible to kill a vampire. Difficult, but not impossible. With her authority of compulsion she held the advantage, despite his superior strength and speed. It would be quick, painless. He wouldn’t suffer. Perhaps that was the humane thing to do. He obviously wasn’t happy living under her domination. He seemed ready to take her head off at any moment. Maybe wiser to strike first, before he turned on her.

He sat at the kitchen table in front of her laptop, his attention absorbed by the internet. She flexed her razor sharp claws and reached for him. His back was turned, his beautiful shirtless torso exposed to her attack. She could do it so quick he’d never feel a thing. She envisioned the move in her mind’s eye, marshaling her nerve. Then he sensed her behind him, his breathing quickened and his heart rate elevated. His aura bled through with colors of anxiety, angst, frustration, lust, and though faint, she recognized the true colors of his soul … love. He was fighting with the fact that he still loved her despite everything. His internal battle slipped past the crack in his mental vault. It confirmed what she saw in his aura. He loved her, and resented the fact.

And he was hurting.

She had become the cruel master. She’d abused her power over him. She remembered being in the same position, enslaved by a sadist. And how was she any better? She had turned sex into a torturous punishment.

She had only herself to blame for the situation between them. She needed to repair the breach. It was her responsibility. She owed him an apology. Her fears reared up. What if she’d led him too far down the path of cruelty? Had she created a monster? Was it too late?

She wanted the old Aaron back. The man who looked at her with adoration, not this cold resentful bastard. She enjoyed him in her life. They were good together. The few happy nights they had spent in her bed were fantastic. The most invigorating moments of the past eight decades. She had to break through his shell of bitterness.

“We need to talk about what happened the other night.” She stepped around to face him and looked directly into his eyes. “Things cannot remain as they are between us.”

He didn’t answer. He continued giving her the silent treatment. His emotions boiled behind the door to his mental vault.

* * * *

Aaron felt like a dumb animal who still loves its master regardless of the abuse endured. No matter how angry he was, he still loved Michelle––which made him even angrier. He felt like tearing something apart with his bare hands in frustration. The sad truth: he ached to be near her. But what good would it do to behave like an affectionate sop with a mercenary bitch who uses sex as punishment? So he bottled up his feelings. Anger, resentment, love, lust, desire, a toxic blend.

Part of his problem was the extreme sexual frustration of being so close to her. He’d slept on the floor of her bedroom four days in a row. If possible he would have slept on the couch, but her bedroom was the only place sealed against the daylight. Lying near her, knowing she was there but so distant, had become an especially agonizing form of torture. He wanted to hurt her, love her, fuck her every which way and leave her, all at the same time.

Instead he did nothing and said nothing. He didn’t know how to talk to her without blowing up in her face.

“I fear I created a mess, and I must explain.” She paused, considering her words carefully. “My only experience with the male vampire was very disturbing. He was my master, extremely violent, with no control over his passions. The night he turned me, he did horrible things to me. When my body was broken and I almost bled to death, only then did he feed me his blood. I soon learned this was normal for him. He abused women all the time. He said this is the vampire’s way because our passions consume all reason. He claimed it is worse with males. They are always mixing sex, blood, and violence. It took me years to realize he lied to justify his monstrous behavior.”

Aaron felt disgusted and compassionate with her confession. He wanted to reach out to her, but did not. The hurt and resentment hung between them like a wall.

He broke his silence. “You believed I behaved this way with Rosalie? Yeah, I suppose you did, considering what happened with Lisa.” He still felt ashamed about what he’d done to the dancer. His guilt weighed on him. And then there was Rosalie, who he’d also hurt, inadvertently. He began to see the danger he posed to women, how Michelle might view his indiscretions. He suspected he could have easily killed Lisa or Rosalie … might have even enjoyed the violent act.

“Lisa was nothing compared to what I have seen, what I experienced through my master.” Michelle reached out to him, caressing his face and hair. Her touch seemed affectionate, understanding. “When you returned from your date, I assumed you did something terrible to Rosalie. Then you showed me your thoughts and experiences with her, and I never imagined your caution and compassion. You tried very hard for control.” She stepped closer to him, looking him in the eyes while she continued touching him. He stood and faced her.

“What you did was beautiful. In a way she loves you for your compassion. I must apologize to you.”

She wasn’t shoving it in his face like he’d expected. The dam of emotions started to break, resentment, anger, and hopelessness leaking out. “What difference does it make? You can force me to do whatever you want, whenever you feel like it. Why does it matter what I think?”

“It matters to me.” She opened her mind to let him feel the truth of her words. Her sincerity seemed at odds with her behavior of the last four nights. He struggled to believe it.

His rancor overflowed, pouring all over her. He laughed bitterly. “I shouldn’t really complain. The sex was awesome. Painful, but still amazing.”

He stuck her with his nasty, sarcastic barb, but she let it slide, reaching past the negativity, trying to find the other side of his emotions. He moved away and his chair toppled over.

Despite his aggression, Michelle slipped inside, her full body pressed against him. She nuzzled his neck with her warm lips and a slight flicker of her tongue. She was cheating again, using the power of his attraction for her to wash away all the spite and resentment.

She whispered in his ear and tickled him with the feather-light brush of her lips. “Yes, it was wonderful. Yet I hurt you. I fear I have done something you will never forgive. I was wrong. But I was very angry. I assumed you abused Rosalie. I wanted to punish you … to abuse you. And I did.”

Her body language unraveled four nights of loneliness and frustration. The physical power she held over him with her touch was so complete she didn’t need to speak, but she continued with her apology anyway.

“I understand how you feel, but I must beg your forgiveness. I promised I would not abuse you, and I broke my promise.” Michelle kissed his neck, her teeth lightly striking his skin as if she might bite at any moment. Her entrancing fingers drew lovely trails across his back, shoulders and chest.

She cheated hardcore.

Impossible to remain angry when she poured on this loving affection. All his resentment and pain drained away at the touch of her warm wet lips and fingertips. Second by second, he lost each and every reason he held for being angry. All that remained was his love and forgiveness. He could never deny her forgiveness. He couldn’t think of much else when she did this to him. He had no defense for Michelle’s seduction.

“You promise you won’t do that again? You promise you won’t judge me on assumptions? You promise not to abuse your power?” He tried to hold her at arm’s length to give her a serious look.

She snaked back into his arms, whispering in his ear, flicking her tongue suggestively. “I promise. I am forgiven? You still love me?” She wrapped her arms and legs around him, warm inner thighs hugging his leg. She felt heavenly. He could never deny her. “Now we have make-up sex. Oui? I will let you be on top.”

He sighed in acceptance. As apologies go, this was probably the best he could ask for. “Yes, Michelle, I still love you. I’ve always loved you. But you knew that already.” As they reunited with the pent-up passions of four nights of abstinence, it didn’t escape his notice that Michelle never once mentioned how she felt about him.

* * * *

In bed together, after several rounds of lovingly affectionate sex and mutual biting, Aaron sensed Michelle had another confession on her mind.

“Come out with it. There’s something you want to say.” He rolled to his side and propped himself on his elbow, looking her square in the eyes.

“Oui. There is another reason I feared sending you out into the night without my guidance.” She scooted in closer and caressed his back and thighs while collecting her thoughts. “When I was new to this life and my control was not good, I had a problème.”

She hesitated. He sensed she was unsure whether or not to continue. She had never spoken of this before, and it had happened so very long ago. He cupped her breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb as he kissed her on the nose. “Please go on. I’d like to hear more.”

She nodded and kissed him on the lips while caressing his chest. A very effective distraction. “You know this word feral?”

“I think so. Something to do with a wild animal?”

“Oui, is like that. This can happen to us. We are predators with instincts to hunt and kill. When we lose our reason, when we are consumed in strong emotion, is possible to become feral. Is like a mindless animal hunting on instinct, attacking anyone who comes near.” Michelle paused.

He waited for her to continue. Suddenly her confession seemed very important. He had never considered the ramifications of what she described. But it was all too easy to imagine how it might happen. He had felt a certain wildness lurking inside him. It scared him to think this might have happened to the wonderful creature cuddling with him.

“In France at the end of the war, WWII, something very traumatic happened to me, and I was lost for a time. I roamed the countryside like a wild animal, hunting at night and hiding in basements or underground by daylight. I don’t recall this time clearly. Is like remembering a dream. It happened to me … and I know it can happen to you.” She drew circles on his chest with her fingertips, avoiding direct eye contact. He sensed her embarrassment. She had never admitted this to anyone before.

She must be over ninety years old!

He couldn’t imagine her roaming across war torn France amidst the battle zones. Michelle had never told him anything about her life before they met. He was fascinated to learn more. “Please go on.”

“A brave, generous man took me in. Luckily, I did not kill him. I think I was unconscious, or else I would have attacked him. I spent several weeks with him. He helped me regain my sanity. I returned to civilization … after he died. He died because of me.” She paused in solemnity, a powerful sense of regret and loss still present after all those years. “Someday I will tell you more, but not now.”

She looked him in the eyes with her chin on his chest, fingertips stroking his shoulders, and finally got to the point. “When you came home after your date and I smelled the blood and sex on you, it brought back memories of this wild life. I was very angry. Because of my assumptions, I wanted to hurt you, as I said before. Also, I was angry with myself. I let you go out without guidance, without an anchor to restrain the predator. It was my fault you hurt Rosalie.”

She paused, considering, then continued. “But I was wrong. You did not hurt her. Not really. You have good control. You cared about this woman.” Michelle looked like she was about to cry.

Her vulnerability was arousing. That and her constant stroking up and down his body while she spoke. He rolled her over, pinning her beneath him, and teased her wet entry with his erection, holding her gaze. “You are so damn sexy when you take the blame for me. I’m gonna show you some of that wild animal you’re so worried about.”

Michelle’s eyes popped open wide. She gasped as he buried himself all the way to her core and bit down hard on her neck.

“Aaron … that’s wonderful. Give it to me, you animal!”