Page 26

Annoth

Ben startles me when he returns from the bedroom and says, “Annie, mi amor . Theo’s in bed now, calmed down. What’s wrong? You look–”

Something about the softness and concern in his voice fills me with anger.

“Why do you ask me this?” I nearly yell, jumping off the couch and facing him with my clenched fists. “Why do you call me these things? Why do you pretend as if I share the weakness of your human feelings?”

Ben puts his hands up, a frown twisting his face. “I’m not pretending anything. I’m just…asking a question. It doesn’t always need an answer. It’s how we check up on each other.”

“I do not need to be checked up on!” I seethe, fury burning through my limbs and coming out as blue-tinted flames in the palms of my hands.

The lights in the apartment flicker and go out, my shadows consuming any remaining pinpricks, plunging us into darkness.

Ben’s eyes widen, but he takes a step toward me, hands held out flat in front of him.

“I’m not afraid of you, Annie, as much as you want me to be.

The shadows, the fire, the anger…it doesn’t scare me.

” He takes another step, and I release the shadowy tendrils from my body, sending them flying out to wrap around his legs, arms, and neck.

He stiffens, but doesn’t fight, doesn’t struggle .

“You should be afraid,” I hiss. “I could cause you such agony that you would beg for death! I could tear you apart and put you back together so many times that you would welcome the flames of the next world!” I move closer, tightening the shadows around his throat, creating sharp points and digging them into his groin and spine. His face twitches in pain.

“Dance with me,” he murmurs when I am standing only a foot away.

I stop, and my shadows falter. “What did you say?”

“Dance with me,” he says again, “and I’ll show you what it means to trust someone.”

My shadows slither down his body, flickering across the floor as he takes a deep breath and puts his arms out again.

I stand still, my body locked in a vicious battle with my instincts.

I want to be near him. I want to dance with him, kiss him again, commit any number of sins with him, but I cannot move.

I can barely breathe as he approaches me, then reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone.

The music begins and he sets it down, then takes my hand and lifts it up so the flame in my palm dances between us like a candle.

A single, slow piano and a woman’s lilting voice echo around us, singing of places and things I do not recognize.

Ben’s fingers cradle mine, blue Hellfire throwing his beautiful face into sharp relief, then he raises his other hand and holds it over the flame.

Pain flickers in his eyes as he slowly moves his hand down.

“Ben,” I whisper, “it will burn you.” He does not stop until the flame has been smothered between our two palms.

“Then burn me, Annie,” he murmurs. “Drag me to Hell and send me up in flames. Just promise me they’ll be yours.”

I hold my breath as he puts one of my hands on his shoulder and envelops the other in his fingers.

His other hand moves down my arm, shoulder, and back, resting on my waist, and he tugs me closer.

Our breaths mix and our cheeks touch as we begin to sway back and forth, the movement of our bodies perfectly in sync.

My shadows slide back up, gently now, taking their time in mapping every inch of him–inches that I desperately want to explore further.

Turning my face, I plant a soft kiss on his neck.

A kiss meant to say: ‘I trust you, I care for you, but I do not understand it, and I am frightened’.

Ben sighs and leans his head against mine, then a new song begins and he sings quietly in my ear.

I do not fully understand the lyrics, but I believe Ben is trying to express that I have the same effect on him as the brown liquor he calls tequila.

“What does it mean?” I ask as he pulls me away from the coffee table and moves us in a small circle across the middle of the living room.

“It means you, and the tequila, both make me crazy,” he murmurs with a breathless laugh, then he spins me around and pulls me close again. I remain silent and listen to the final lyrics, where the man refers to his lover as a ‘favorite sin’.

“Am I your favorite sin, Father Benjamin?” I ask with a small smirk, searching his eyes. He releases my hand and holds my chin between his fingers, running his thumb along my bottom lip.

“I think you just might be, Annie,” he whispers, and then he kisses me.

It is different this time. When we kissed before, I wanted him to submit to me.

It was a power struggle, a fire–raging, devouring anger, out of control, ready to destroy.

But this…this feels the way I have always imagined rain.

All-consuming, life-giving, cleansing. He pulls me against him, moving his hand into my hair as my arms wrap around his neck.

He tastes exquisite, like spices and sweat and soap.

My shadows deftly slip beneath his clothes, searching for more of him, all of him. I need all of him .

“Annie, mi amor ,” he breathes, voice full of warning.

“Yes?”

“We can’t…”

“Cannot…cannot what?” I whisper, my mind so muddled by the kiss that I barely process what he is saying.

“Can’t go any further than this,” he says. “Not right now. Theo…”

“Would you like for him to join us?” I ask, moving my lips along Ben’s jaw and down his neck. “I see the way you look at him. I do not mind.”

“ Fuck ,” he sighs, “as much as I would love that, we can’t. He won’t want to, and…I don’t know…I don’t know what could happen. You two are still connected.”

I let out a low whine and slide my hands beneath his shirt, twisting my fingers through the hair on his chest. Skin, muscle, blood, even bone, all within my grasp.

I could take him. I could bind him with my shadows and take what I need from him, but…

I do not want to. I want him to want me in return, and I can feel how badly he does–the hardness pressing between my thighs, his haggard breathing as he tries to fight his own desire, the way his hands grip my hair when his forehead comes to rest against mine.

I realize that this is enough. The fact that he is not afraid of me, that he knows everything I am and still cares for me, trusts me…

It is enough.

“Will you stay with me?” I ask, not wanting to be away from him for even a moment. Ben lets out a low laugh and presses a sweet kiss to my forehead, causing the fluttering sensation to explode in my chest, more intense than ever before.

“Of course.” Without letting me go, he leans down and grabs several blankets and pillows from around us, then tosses them on the couch.

Once we have enough, he falls backwards, pulling me down with him.

I let out a tiny squeal as we land, surprising myself.

I have heard human women on the television make this sound, but it is new for me.

Ben grins as we settle in–him lying on his back, propped against the arm of the couch, me tucked beside him, my head and shoulder draped across his chest. He takes one of the blankets and covers us both, then puts two fingers on my chin and tilts my face back.

“We can’t do anything else, but I’m still gonna kiss you until you tell me to stop,” he murmurs. I reach up and thread my fingers through his hair, pulling myself closer until our lips meet.

“I will not tell you to stop,” I assure him.