The Bend-Bite-Shift Box Set Page 35

  “She’s a witch?”

  “I do not know. It is possible she does not know that she possesses it.”

  The old man waved his hand at the giant and closed his eyes a moment. “You know what you’re doing, big guy. If you think we should tell her, then go right ahead.”

  Langston smiled to himself. Jill liked to call him big guy too. For over 50 years his only true friend had been Kent. And over all of the centuries of his life he had developed very few relationships. He’d learned early in his extraordinarily long life that those attachments would prove hurtful to him in the end. There were not many who could live as long as he had. Now he had a circle of friends that held a special place in his heart. He wondered if he might be getting soft.

  Soft reminded him of her. Where was she at this moment? What task was she setting herself to? She had always been a hard worker. He remembered on their farm, in her first life, how she’d worked in the fields until her fingers bled. It would have been so easy to heal her of all of the aches and pains she suffered. It would have been so easy to take her from the hard lives she’d lived.

  “You okay, Langston?”

  It was Charlie’s voice and he felt shaken by it. He was being consumed again with her. She was gnawing at him from the inside. She was so close again and it always happened like this. He would always feel so drawn that it would frighten him. He had always resisted the urge to press her to break her vows. And so he’d always left her. But now he was falling faster and stronger. And this time she was free.

  The giant forced a smile and looked down at his hands. His fingers dug into his knees, causing a throbbing pain. His knuckles were white and when he quickly released his hold he saw that his hands were trembling.

  “Jill said you were cool as a cucumber, but you ain’t cool right now. What’s wrong? Is there trouble?”

  “No trouble, friend. No trouble.”

  It was a lie. He was in a lot of trouble and he knew it. He needed to retreat to be with his own thoughts.

  After a several minutes of wandering the hospital, he found the Sorcerer’s Apprentice room and managed to use his magic to unlock the door. He knew the story and understood why it was locked. This room was what led Jill to be changed to a vampire. He stepped into the empty room, admiring the whimsical mural as he absorbed the solitude.

  * * *

  Later Langston roused from his meditation, eyes wide and immediately alert. A peek to his right saw that the sun was bright overhead. It must be well past noon. Kristana, his mind screamed. Had she already finished her tasks and left for the day? He uncrossed his legs and stood slowly.

  The hallway was quiet until the cell phone in his pocket began ringing loudly. He slowly unclasped the gadget from his belt loop and opened it, knowing immediately who would be on the other end.

  “Hey there, Langston,” Devan spoke softly. He could almost hear the smile in her voice.

  “Hello, little one. You are well?”

  “We’re good. Kent and I are back. Jill’s staying for a while longer.”

  Langston frowned. “Will she return?”

  Devan’s lovely laugh made him smile. “She’ll return, Langston. You’ll be pleased. I think she’d rather share the details with you, but don’t worry. She’s going to be just fine.”

  Relief flooded over him. Jill was actually Devan’s best friend from college and Langston had only known the young girl for a few weeks. In that time he’d developed a bond with both women that he knew would make for lasting friendships.

  “And Kent has met my father. He’s insisting on a wedding. Kent’s still mulling it over.”

  “That isn’t what I said,” Kent said in the background. Langston heard the sound of rustling and he could imagine the couple tussling affectionately. He wondered what Kris was doing. He couldn’t concentrate. She was here again. So close…

  “Langston? Are you listening? What’s wrong?”

  He forced himself back to the conversation. He was a controlled person. Kristana was the only one who could throw him into such a tailspin. She’d always been the only one.

  “Do not worry, little one. Have you spoken with Nicky?”

  There was a pause on the other end and he could just about imagine the little indentation between Devan’s eyebrows as she frowned. He waited patiently, knowing that to say anything would be out of character and would set her to worrying even more.

  “Yes. He’s here. I understand you already have one of the children. There will be more soon.”

  “Yes, we will be ready. Charlie has made arrangements. I will see you soon?”

  “We’ll be in touch. Kent says hello."

  Langston heard chattering as he approached one of the rooms towards the end of the hallway opposite the living quarters. He said his goodbyes to Devan and Kent, then entered the room still holding the phone in one hand.

  Her voice was like a siren’s call. My Kristin, his mind murmured. Her laugh was intoxicating. It wasn’t lovely but instead thumped along boisterously and almost in a guffaw. When he reached the room he saw her on her knees on a counter, several objects stacked beside her while she dusted the shelf where the items belonged. She scooted forward onto the counter and wriggled her rear end in the process.

  Langston inhaled sharply. Oh, how he wanted her. His entire mind burned hot with need, his blood pounding and searing his veins. He would have absolutely no control soon. The pull he felt to touch her, to take her in his arms, was stronger now than it had ever been.

  “But why rabbits? Don’t you like bunnies?” Kris was saying.

  Out of breath, he struggled to concentrate. His thick brows bridged closer in a frown and he took a short step further into the room. That was when he noticed Chelsea. The little girl was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a set of crayons and a coloring book in front of her. She was sweeping a big blue crayon back and forth, but she was cocking her head side to side as she did so. Her little pink lips were tightly pursed.

  Kristana chortled again, “But you’ve probably never had a pet then, have you? All bunnies aren’t for rabbit stew. Who in the world told you such a story?”

  He watched in awe as Chelsea ceased her coloring for a moment and appeared deep in thought. Her lips still tightly closed, she nodded her head sharply before continuing her task.

  “Oh, I understand. I guess that settles it. We’ll talk to Mr. Rhodes this evening. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  He realized she was engaging in an entire conversation with the child, but the child wasn’t verbally speaking a word. Did she even realize she was doing it?

  Kris stopped her dusting and dropped her hands to her sides. “Or maybe we should ask Langston.”

  It was his name on her lips that did it. He dropped the cell phone clumsily as he attempted to place it back into the holster on his hip. The sound must have startled her because Kristana leaned back to look at him and lost her balance. She clutched the cabinet door to steady herself, but Langston was behind her in an instant, placing his hands on her hips to keep her from toppling over.

  He heard her gasp, then she released her hold on the wooden door and brought both her hands atop his. It wasn’t a defensive reaction and wasn’t an attempt to remove his fingers. No, quite the contrary. She held tight to him, keeping his fingers on her while she twisted at the waist to look into his eyes.

  “How do you do this? You draw me into you and I lose all decorum,” she asked, her voice a soft whisper close to his lips.

  “I do not believe that is what you were intending to ask me.”

  She shook her head to recover her thoughts. “Chelsea’s never had a pet. She’d very much like a puppy.”

  Langston licked his lips, exhaled slowly, then lifted her with ease from the counter and placed her on her feet on the tile floor. He slid his hands from under her fingers and took two steps away from her, then bent to retrieve his fallen cell phone.

  “Then she will have a puppy.” He spoke as he looked down at the little gi
rl.

  Chelsea’s eyes were wide and bright as she looked up at him. She smiled before opening her mouth to speak, “A real puppy?”

  “A very real puppy.” He spoke in a soothing and assured voice. It seemed to satisfy the girl and she grabbed Kris’s hand and began dragging her from the room.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, her hands instinctively reaching back for the giant.

  “Gotta ask Charlie.”

  He heard Kris’ chuckles echoing down the hallway as Chelsea led her away.

  That evening Kris made her way to her vehicle, mulling over the day’s activities. She couldn’t understand the reaction she had to Langston. Even Brock, in all of their newly-wedded bliss, hadn’t had such a complete effect on her. Her skin screamed to touch the giant man. She found his clean earthy musk thrilling and intoxicating. She starved for a taste of his lips. She was becoming obsessed.

  “This is crazy,” she told herself. The voices began snickering and murmuring. This isn’t crazy. I’m crazy, she told herself.

  Sighing, she eyed the makeshift bed in the back of her vehicle. She’d been parking in the lot of a deserted storehouse a few miles from here. She figured as soon as she received her first month’s pay in a week or so she’d be able to afford a room somewhere. It would take time to build up enough savings to get an apartment.

  “Kris.”

  It was his voice and she felt something in her belly tremble in reaction. She fumbled trying to open the car door, then finally gave up and turned to face him.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “Did I forget to do something? Do you need something?”

  “Kris,” he whispered her name again. “Why did you not tell Charlie that you have no place to sleep?”

  Embarrassment burned her cheeks hot pink and she stepped to the side, hoping to block his view of her bedding in the back seat. Realizing how stupid that effort was, she dropped her shoulders briefly before squaring and raising her head to meet his gaze.

  “Mr. Rhodes is my employer. There’s no need to tell him my personal issues.”

  With a slight smile, Langston took her small hand securely in his large one and led her back towards the building. He took her to a room not far from the one she knew was Chelsea’s. She’d been in this room before. It was made up sparsely with a bed and some furniture and was one of the only rooms that wasn’t painted in cartoon characters. She saw a bag beside the bathroom and tugged backwards in hesitation.

  “This is your room. I don’t want to–”

  He stopped her with a look. She felt his stare reaching into her, touching her deep inside, and she swallowed to tamp down the rampant desire she could feel pulsing through her veins. His thumb caressed her hand; then he released her, grabbed his bag, and stepped into the hallway. “I have my own arrangements. This room can be yours for now. We will formalize things with Charlie in the morning.”

  She managed to get several hours of sleep in that room before the voices woke her up again. It was a regular occurrence these days. She knew she’d be wide-eyed for a while now so she sat up into the bedpillows, her face scrunched in thought. His earthy scent was still in the room and she lifted the corner of the sheet to her nose a moment. She had to stop obsessing about him.

  She decided she was hungry and tossed the covers aside.

  “He invited me to sleep here so I guess that means I can eat here, too.”

  She found an apple in a bowl on the counter in the kitchen and she savored the sound of her teeth crunching into the red flesh almost as much as the splashing of the sweet juices on her tongue. Tossing any pretense of etiquette, she chewed messily a few times, mouth wide, then took a napkin and wiped at the liquid dribbling down her chin.

  She wasn’t sure where she was going when she headed down the hallway. She knew the hospital well enough, but she wasn’t going any place in particular, especially wearing a baggy nightshirt and sweats. There was nowhere to hide. The voices were chattering and tittering and every once in a while screaming to her. She pretended to ignore it and just wandered aimlessly, letting her feet lead the way. It occurred to her the halls of an insane asylum might look similar to this place.

  The locked door wasn’t locked. It occurred to her just a few steps after she passed the door. She stopped and tilted her head to the side in thought, then performed an about face and looked again. The door was unlocked and cracked just a bit. She counted the doors from the end of the hallway to be sure it was the right room. Definitely the locked room – unlocked now.

  Placing a palm to the door, she pressed it open slowly and tiptoed inside. The voices softened, almost as if they were lowering their sounds to a whisper so that she could sneak inside the room. She saw a light coming from the far corner and heard a successive hissing sound that she realized was snoring.

  It was Langston. He was in the center of the room, reclined in a large easy chair with his feet up on an ottoman. He was sound asleep, his face soft and peaceful in a way she’d never have believed. As she got closer she saw a book resting against his chest, though the title was obscured by his huge hands.

  A glance in the direction he faced brought her eyes to a magnificent mural. That in and of itself wasn’t unusual in this place. Whoever Jill was, she’d managed to leave her artistic mark in nearly every finished room. But this mural was different, painted with a life that the others lacked. Kris wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if the Sorcerer’s Apprentice popped right off the wall and stretched his hand out to greet her.

  “Striking, is it not?”

  His voice didn’t startle her. It was as if her psyche could sense the moment he awakened even before he spoke. She nodded, then turned to him. “It is striking, yes. Why are you sleeping in a chair when there are plenty of bedrooms here?”

  Langston smiled and then laughed. She could sense his amusement as if it were her own, and she grinned too. “How do you do that? It’s like when I’m with you I get a different… awareness. It’s… weird.”

  “We should speak about that. There is much you should know.”

  His voice sounded rough and husky and she realized he was sitting stiffly, feet on the floor, hands clinching his knees in tension. She honed in on him, considering what could possibly be the source of such a response. What she found knifed her down deep and created a heat in her core. She found within him a yearning, desperate and strong.

  Langston felt exposed, naked and stripped bare. He could see very clearly in her eyes the moment she inadvertently used her powers and touched his soul. The response was instant and just as potent as his own desire. She wanted him as urgently as he wanted her.

  It was true she wanted him. Want wasn’t even an appropriate term. She needed him. Her very life depended on it, or at least that was how it felt. This wasn’t her. She had never been the type of woman to be the aggressor, even with Brock. But that was about to change. She couldn’t stop this from happening even if she wanted to. It was too powerful and she needed it more than she needed air to breathe. “Langston, I swear to you,” she spoke slowly, breathlessly, “you only have a second to stop me, because I am going to throw myself at you. Right. Now.”

  He said not a word, but she saw his hands loosen their hold on his knees and he released the breath he’d been holding. It was all she needed.

  Kris was standing a single step away from him and she fell forward towards him, kneeling onto the ottoman so that her hands could take hold of him at his shoulders. She leaned forward, her lips finding his. Langston’s large hands reached out, his fingers biting into her flesh as he guided her body closer to his. Leaning back in the chair, he stretched his legs out long so that she was lying entirely atop his body.

  The kiss was all-consuming, creating an immediate emotional connection between the two of them. She felt her body react, throbbing with desire. This was her man. He was made for her and she for him. No others mattered, before or ever again. In this gentle giant’s arms, she was home.

  Langston had never eve
n allowed himself to imagine this moment. She had never been his, had never been obtainable for him to worship in such a way as this. He slipped his arms around her securely and languished in how perfectly she fit to him. Her curves were full and lush and beautifully pressed to his solid form. She was nowhere near his size, but each part of her melded to him as if she’d been molded as his perfect partner.

  He stripped his lips from hers to speak against her mouth. “Kris, I will never let you go now. You are mine. Always.”

  She nodded, unwilling to argue, just frantic to find his lips again. He denied her, forcing her to bring her black eyes to his. Tell me. She could hear the thought from him as clearly as if he had spoken it from his lips, only he hadn’t.

  “I am yours. Always,” she replied.

  His groan reverberated off the walls just before he forced his lips against hers again. She sighed in ecstasy when he pulled her tighter against him, then in a single swift movement he lifted her tenderly in his arms and placed her onto the tile floor. It should have been cold, but when she touched her fingers beneath her she realized he’d somehow laid a blanket down. She wondered how he could have managed it; then all coherent thought vacated when his huge but tender fingers slipped beneath her nightshirt to explore naked skin.

  When Kris opened a single eye she could see sunlight slicing into the room through the bottom of the window blinds. She felt more rested than she had in a very long time. Her mind was quiet, no voices at all. The silence was almost deafening. Movement of her legs verified what she already knew. Langston’s body was beside hers. She felt her cheeks flame hot as she recalled the events of the previous evening. Even as that little pang of embarrassment struck her, a smile curled her lips. What a wonderful evening it was.

  As easily as she could she rolled over to look at him. He was flat on his back, his hands resting on his broad chest in the image of complete relaxation – or possibly in a death pose. Did I kill him? She smiled, joking to herself.