Sociopaths and Serial Killers

BY: Montana

Disclaimer: I do not own Jean-Claude, Richard, Anita, Edward, or anything else that belongs to LKH.

Author Note: This is set after Obsidian Butterfly.

Almost a minute passed in silence, our eyes locked. “I found out who the MIB are,” Edward said, his eyes never leaving my face.

“Who are they?” He smiled that irritating smile. The one that said, ‘I know something you don’t, and I like it.’ “Oh hell no, you are going to tell me.”

“I am?” Edward questioned, laughing at me.

“I should think so.” I glared at him. Which made his smile widen.

He leaned into me, a sensation that made my heart beat faster. “Are you going to make me?” he asked, teasing.

“Maybe.”

“How?” he whispered.

“I have my ways,” I whispered back.

“Oh really? I never thought you much of one for torture.”

“I dabble here and there.”

“You’re going to torture m—” I kissed him gently, running my fingers through his hair. Just as he began to lean into me, I leaned back, out of reach. He made a frustrated sound low in his throat, leaning in even more. I moved my whole body back, trying to hop off the railing backwards, out of reach. But Edward placed his hands on my thighs, fingers slightly digging in. I couldn’t hop backwards off the railing now without hurting myself. In fact I rather doubted Edward would let me do that at all. So instead I pushed forward. Edward let me hop down, because if he didn’t, me pushing on the old porch railing would have probably broken the old wood.

I took a step forward, and Edward didn’t budge. I didn’t expect him too. This was still a dominance game. And I didn’t know about him, but I was having fun. I stood up on tiptoe, so our faces were close once again. An inward breath would have drawn his lips to mine. “Tell me,” I demanded in a hushed whisper.

“No,” he answered. “Kiss me,” he demanded in the same tone.

“No,” I answered. I licked his lip, one quick flick of the tongue. And then I walked into the house. This had turned into another game. Not just a dominance game, but a control game. We were playing now to see who broke first. At this point, I knew we would break. It was just a question of who would break first. There was no going back. Neither of us wanted to go back.

Edward followed me into the house. I turned around to face him. He was standing just in front of the door, I was a good ten feet away. I smiled innocently. “Is it just me, or is it hot in here?” I asked in an exaggerated voice, slipping off one of the knife sheaths, tossing it to the wind. I was standing on the line between the living room and the kitchen/dining room. There was no wall, just a definition between wood floor and carpeting. The sheath with knife landed on the carpet a few feet away.

Edward smiled his lazy good ol’ boy smile. “You are so right, Anita. It is getting very hot in here.” Both of us were lying flat out about that, the cool of the morning was enough to raise goose bumps on my skin. Edward slipped out of his shoulder holster, setting the gun down on a nearby table. I pulled off the other knife sheath, dropping it beside the other one. Then Edward pulled out the big guns, so to speak. Not fair, I thought I was supposed to be the one torturing you, I thought as he slipped his shirt over his head. “In this sort of heat, I certainly don’t need that,” he said, still in the exaggerated tone of voice. Humor and other emotions in his eyes.

Oh God, I thought as I looked at his bare chest. There was a twitching in my fingers to touch him, to slide my hands over every inch of that well toned plane of muscle and skin. He began to walk towards me. Oh no, I am not going to loose. I am not going to be the one to loose control first. “Good point,” I agreed, shrugging off the straps of my shoulder holster. I slipped my shirt off over my head, standing before him in my black lacy under-wire bra. “After all, it’s nothing either of us haven’t seen before. We managed to behave ourselves then.”

“Maybe,” Edward said in a more serious tone. “But you didn’t want to touch me like that then.”

“You didn’t want to touch me either,” I pointed out, running my fingers over my chest suggestively.

“Are you so sure, Anita?” And by the look in his eyes, the tone in his voice, I suddenly wasn’t. “I know that for the longest time this has all been platonic for you, Anita. But do you remember the time you were bitten by the lamia? Right before Richard picked you up for your little date? You stood in front of me in just your jeans and your black bra, and it almost killed me. I had to sit there, and act like the most beautiful woman in the world was NOT standing in front of me without a shirt on. I had to act like I didn’t care, because…because I did.” His voice was almost tortured. And I felt bad. If I had any idea that he felt that way about me then…I would have never done that. I didn’t think it would be teasing at the time. It just didn’t occur to me.

“I’m sorry, Edward. I didn’t mean to tease you like that. I didn’t know—”

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I didn’t want you to know. There was no way you could have known. And if you had somehow figured it out by some flaw in my acting then, I probably would have been angry.”

He said he didn’t want me to know. But he never specified what he didn’t want me to know. He never used the word love. Honestly, I didn’t know if he could say that. If he was capable of saying it at all, even though he could feel it. But I knew, all the same. From the tone of his voice, from his words, I knew. And I loved him too.

Edward took another step forward. His hands hovered a quarter of an inch above my skin. I could feel his body heat, pressing against my skin. His hands ran up my waist, without actually ever touching my skin. His eyes never left mine, but I could feel his hands like a heat wave over my skin. They moved up over my breasts, tracing the outline where fabric met skin. I closed my eyes, a soft sigh escaping my lips. I stood on tiptoe, leaning against him. I kissed his lips, gently. His hands moved to my waist, kneading into the skin. “I win,” he whispered with a small smile.

“Congratulations,” I whispered back. “You will receive your prize in the mail within 5 to 10 business days,” I said sarcastically.

“In the mail? But I have my prize right here,” he pointed out, pulling me against him. His hands slid down to my belt, unbuckling it. “But it needs to be unwrapped,” he said quietly, drawing my belt out of the belt loops. He dropped it to the ground. His thumbs slid inside the top of my jeans, tracing around my waist. He let out a slow breath, closing his eyes. I kissed him, tracing the line of his teeth with my tongue. I took his lower lip into my mouth, gently sucking on it.

His hands moved up my body. I gasped as his thumbs brushed against my nipples, even through the fabric of my bra. “Your prize needs to be unwrapped where there is a softer horizontal surface than a hardwood floor,” I said, my voice gone husky as Edward nibbled at my neck.

Without another word Edward scooped me up, carrying me to my bedroom. He set me down on the edge of the bed, and kneeled in front of me, one arm on either side. “Are you sure you want this, Anita?”

I reached out, tracing my fingers over his collarbone and down his pecs to his abdomen. “I want you, Edward.”

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. I realized he was taking in my scent. “I have wanted to hear that, for so long, Anita. I have wanted you to feel this way, for so long.”

I pressed my lips to his forehead. “I’m sorry that I didn’t before, Edward. But I do now. And I’m not going back. I’ve been places I shouldn’t have gone, and I’m not ever going back.”

A small smile spread across his lips. “So can we kill the vampire?”

I smiled wide at his persistence. “No, Edward.”

“Later?”

“No.”

“Damn it. But I really would like to.”

“Me too sometimes. But as of now the answer is no.”

“Ah. I’ll ask again later.”

“How much later?”

He pretended to think. “Oh, in about an hour or so,” he answered, picking me up and moving me to the center of the bed, leaning over me on all fours. “Or maybe in about 30 minutes,” he said between kissing intervals. “If I can catch you at an opportune time, you might finally say yes.”

I reached for the belt buckle of his pants. “Maybe.” I unbuckled the belt, and unbuttoned the top button of his pants. “Maybe not.”

“We’ll see,” he said, kissing me again.

***

We made love the whole rest of the day. He never asked about Jean-Claude again. I fell asleep in his arms, and woke up around 1:00 in the morning. He wasn’t with me, but there was a note on the night stand. It said, “I’ll be back in two days. Be careful.” He didn’t sign a name, but I knew it was from him. And he didn’t leave a rose with the note. He left a new gun. A seacamps .32, the type he had let me borrow the night I killed that lady assassin in the bath room of Danse Macabre. He must have ordered me one. Sometimes Death can be so sweet. I didn’t know where he had gone, but I suspected after the MIB.


Edward's POV or the NEXT CHAPTER or the INDEX