One evening in September, Blueray intervened with a tut-tut as Apollo reached to touch Brit’s bite marks in front of Ethan and, Ethan’s abrupt reaction and words caused her to smile cruelly. Her thoughts turned to the true nature of a beast when its treasure is touched. She had heard tales of it, but had never witnessed it for herself. Apollo seemed quite bewildered. Blueray warned, “Do you really want to die so easily?”
*****
Ethan watched Brit as she walked from the diner. Her three days away from him surely affected her negatively. His eyes narrowed as he observed. She didn’t seem as peppy as she usually was, he noted grimly and, before her absence, she would have all but ran up the steps. To Ethan, this confirmed what he already knew: While others could try to care for his beloved, only he really knew how to tend to her best. The thought briefly cheered him up and he watched her duck inside.
Ethan nodded briefly to the guests of the Shelter as he followed Brit in. When she slowed to greet those she had not seen in a few days, he felt his annoyance return. Patches of news were exchanged. All caused his mood to grow darker. He wanted to thoroughly check her over and her usual inattentiveness fueled his displeasure at this moment. “Brit, please,” he said as he gestured impatiently toward the stairs. A few steps later, Ethan found himself speaking to another, “I must speak with my wife. You will please excuse us.” By the time they reached the landing, Ethan muttered in a language he had all but forgotten, “Good lord. Herding cats would be easier.” As they reached the door, he said, “I wish you to remove those clothes when we settle.”
Remembering the pictures of medicinal cups that were applied to the skin, Brit stopped just outside of the door. Seeing others nearby, he wrapped an arm about her waist as he opened the door and easily deposited her inside the room. The door shut with a loud thud and he audibly exhaled. “Ethan,” she lisped softly. His mouth did not move but she heard his voice loudly within her head exclaim, “Do as I say!” She backed away slightly in surprise and bumped the desk.
Seeing her surprise, he looked down uncomfortably for a moment and rechecked his temper before looking up at her again. “Brit, remove your clothing.” His jaw muscle clenched as he added, “Please.” Watching him a moment, she nodded and fumbled with the lacings on the front of the dress. He could tell that she was not frightened, but she was bewildered at his mood. Her hands shook in confusion causing him to soften a bit more. Walking to her, he took her hands kissing the palm of each one and rubbing them with his thumb. Arranging them on her lap, his hand stroked her hair for a moment before he took her laces and started to pull. Ethan said softly, “Why…why did you leave the Shelter….our resting place?” His eyes watched attentively for an answer.
She watched him curiously. His voice sounded different. Thicker. Peering up at him, she replied sincerely, “My chest hurt, Ethan, and you were resting. And I remembered Joah could make people better.” He quietly loosened the bodice before staring at her palms again. This time, he removed the gloves to look more closely at her skin. His fingers tracing to her wrists turning them over in his hands as if viewing a precious coin to ensure it is the same coin as seen the day before. Watching him rub at a white fleck on her fingernail, she wondered whether he would answer.
Ethan slid the bodice from her shoulders and untied the skirt to watch it fall. Ethan’s chest rose and fell as if he was exhaling again and he nodded that he understood. His eyes looked different. Darker. His fingers removed the bodice and skirt completely before he lifted her to the desk to remove her boots noting that one of the buckles was even on the wrong notch. His fingers examined her legs one at a time as he removed her stockings after popping each garter. Noting no changes, he placed a hand on each side of her hips and said coolly, “I could have tended to you when I woke.”
“But you were resting,” she explained. It was all most logical to her.
Caressing her skin through the chemise, he noted a spot of fabric that was wearing thin. It wasn’t there before! Ethan could smell the scent of the library under the heady eucalyptus scent that still clung to her skin despite her shower. The library smell was not unpleasant, but it was not the finely milled soap that he had created after spending several hours in the perfumery. Without a response, he picked her up and carried her to the shower. Turning on the water, he touched it to be sure it was warm before removing her chemise and pressing her under the water.
Watching her play in the water a bit lightened his mood. Ethan removed his shoes, socks and jacket before quickly rolling his pant legs and shirt sleeves. Not caring that the fabric got wet, he lathered up her hair in the familiar vanilla-laced shampoo that held a barely-there hint of musk. His hands soaped her up using the same scent. Each time, he would bring her near and inhale deeply until she seemed familiar with his eyes closed. As he dried her, he noticed every mark that had not been on her before and quizzed her over each and every one of them.
After Brit was dried, Ethan rubbed lotion into her skin. Noting her smooth texture, he wondered who had supplied her with personal necessities. She had necessities, he thought darkly. Here. Shaking off the grim thought, he carefully started to comb out her wet hair. “Did someone comb your hair out, Brit?” he asked suspiciously.
Brit said, “No. I did that myself.”
Neglectful, Ethan thought. It was just more proof that only he could properly care for her. He smirked at the thought. Ethan selected her dress and make up for the following evening, but kept her wrapped in a large bath sheet for now. A few final checks and he felt that she was as she had been before leaving even if she had a bit of the cold lingering.
Still a bit weary from her cold, she snuggled against him. After arranging her just so, he nuzzled her neck and bit gently. Her blood tasted differently. Perhaps it was the lingering cold or maybe it was her change in diet. No matter, Ethan thought. It will be normal soon. With that thought, he brought his wrist up and bit so the blood pooled. “You will drink now.” There was no ‘please’ or other nicety. His voice left no question whether it was offered as he pressed it against her lips and held it so until she drank sufficiently.
Ethan was nearly falling over from needing to rest when he finally pulled her to him and set the mist around the door to protect. Waking before he did as always, Brit pulled on what he wanted her to wear and tried to open the door finding it quite locked. She fumbled with the mechanism. After a few minutes, she knew that it would only open when his eyes did.
Three nights before, Ethan woke and reached for Brit only to find a crumpled blanket. With an audible sigh, he rose, dressed, and went to find where she had gone. She was not in the showers, so he went toward the first floor coming to a halt when he saw that the first floor was submerged. The city had flooded so high that the water had breached the sandbags. Ethan shot back to the second floor asking the Shelter’s residents whether they had seen his wife. None had. A few questions brought him a bit of comfort at finding the flood had come in steadily but gradually. It was unlikely that Brit had got caught in fast waters and swept out to sea.
Regardless, he stormed up to the rooftop and flagged down a passerby on a float made of barrels. Masking his concern, he asked, “Could you go to the library to inquire whether my wife is there? Return either way. I shall make it worth your while.” Ethan paced the rooftop until the person returned. He found that his wife was at the library where she was being tended for a cold. His mouth set grimly as he paid the man for the information. Not only was Brit stranded across town, but she was unwell. Time passed slowly and Ethan’s mood grew darker despite his ability to get information regarding Brit. He had not been more than an arm’s reach from her upon waking in over a year. By the end of the third night, Ethan knew the streets would be passable when he woke the following evening. He laid caressing the space beside him when it was time to rest.
The following evening, Ethan travelled to the library. He took the steps two at a time and entered to find a crowd. Immediately seeing Brit, he merely looked at her without interfering with the conversation. Wrapping an arm around her, he kissed her cheek and turned to the group. His foot tapped on the ground slightly as he looked from one to the next as they spoke. Brit’s hair, he noted, had been washed in a shampoo that was unknown to him. His fingers caressed her locks and he examined the ends of her hair unhappily.
More conversation. Ethan grinned at Brit’s remark about way nice people. His expression darkened when he looked back to Blue and he spoke for the first time, “There are consequences for everything. Our actions always catch up with us. What you will decide to do will haunt you forever as well. I can only wish you luck and prudence in your choices.” He kept Brit close to him and caressed her arms. His fingers drug on her skin slightly from the soap she had used. It was not the finely milled soaps he had purchased. He wondered where she had bathed and whether anyone was near when she did so. Larissa inquired about the two of them and Ethan assured her that they were well enough. He added, “Brit has had a minor adventure with her health.” Looking down at her, he sad, “Which will be made sure not to trouble us again.”
More people came and went and the conversation continued. Ethan settled near the fire and pulled Brit to him placing two fingers on her throat for 30 seconds. He then brought his lips to her forehead. Brit held still for him and said, “I really do not think I need an onion poultice. Or cupping. Or even a remedy from this century.” The last was a quote from Omega as she held out the small bottle of antibiotic. Ethan took it looking over the label.
Looking at Brit sternly, Ethan said, “I do think that such a decision is for me to make and for you to comply with.” His gaze seemed rather absolute even as he continued to caress her side with his fingertips. Her clothing, he noticed, was clean and it smelled of eucalyptus. His abrupt words caused her to blink. She assured him that she was much better. At her words, he cocked a brow and his foot started to tap again rhythmically. “Much better is not well, is it?” With the same stern expression, he said calmly, “There will be no discussion about this Brit.” He stared at her as she crinkled her nose and struggled not to rub it. “If needed, I will treat your symptoms with ways that have proven themselves over centuries.”
Omega noted that Brit did seem much improved. Ethan nodded slightly at Omega and looked Brit over again. “So she tells me,” he said softly as he ran his finger up her side to her throat again. Pressing his lips together, his jaw muscle flexed beneath the skin. “Perhaps no poultice then.” With an added whisper, he said, “We shall see about the cupping though.”
“Cupping!” Omega exclaimed. “Surely you jest, Ethan.” Brit swallowed nervously and cuddled against him. She remembered seeing pictures of such practices and the marks it left behind.
Ethan returned the antibiotics to Omega. “These will not be required. And jest? Surely I am not. I do not often find myself in the role of the jester.” His fingertips moved back to Brit and stroked down her arm to her fingers entwining them with his own.
Omega smiled, “I will keep the tablets in case Brit’s illness takes a turn for the worse. Thankfully she seems to be recovering without additional measures – either modern or barbarically medieval.”
Narrowing his eyes for a moment, Ethan responded, “You surely mean ‘proven treatments that have been tested for more than three years on lab rats before being released to the market.” Placing an arm around Brit, he pulled her closer and ran his hand over her back and neck. His lips almost formed a pout as he stared at the patterns in the flames of the fire. “Antibiotics are…” His words trailed off before they even started. His fingers tapped lightly along the slope of her shoulder. “Brit, did you eat and drink properly tonight? Will Annika have anything to report to me?”
With the flood, Brit had not left the library in three days. She pointed out that Grr had made soups. Grr discussed what was in each healthy stew. Ethan nodded slightly to Grr and said, “I am sure you have made every effort to keep her well-fed. I do appreciate that.” Turning to Brit, Ethan seemed to almost be inspecting her as he said dryly, “So, you have not been eating what I have directed Annika to prepare for you specifically.” She tried to point out the flood, but was cut short with, “I believe we have a trip to the diner coming then.” Frowning, he took a firm hold of her hand and said, “We should go.”
Brit thanked all for helping her to get better and followed Ethan to the diner. Once there, he ordered food to be brought to her and asked that other supplies he had ordered to be sent to the Shelter less it spoil. While she ate, he examined her skin, which seemed slightly ashen and her fingernails – one which had a small white fleck in the pink just below the crescent moons. He grimaced as he touched the fingertips and noted they needed lotion. His mood felt dark as he thought of Omega’s near chiding of his decisions. “I will never do something that is not thought through with you, Brit. And you need to do what I tell you and trust me.” Tapping the table with his fingers, he grumbled, “I know what I am doing when it involves you, princess.”
As she ate, Ethan silently watched. His thoughts were troubled and he felt angry. Logic said that all was well and that he should be grateful that Brit had been well-cared for. Memory of waking three days without her played over in his mind. Petulantly, he reminded himself that he could have cared for her had she not have left! Noting she was playing with her food more than eating, he said abruptly, “I wish to return to the Shelter.” Signing a slip for Annika, he gestured Brit toward the door. Rather than walk with her, he followed a step behind.
Ethan kicked the door of their resting place open and deposited a marginally-sentient Brit carefully on the plush fur rug. His demeanor could be described in one word: Irritated. Every little thing about the evening added another thorn in his side. After checking Brit’s pulse, Ethan punctured his own wrist and poured vitae into her mouth forcing her to drink before he sat back to muse how one evening could go so wrong and still end up fine.
When they woke, Ethan had taken Brit for a romantic walk along the beach. He felt it was time she observed more behaviors in others outside of their small circle. When they arrived to the beach, they first encountered a couple who were playfully sparring with swords. Ethan wrapped his arms around Brit and smiled while they both watched. When the male “captured” the female, Ethan was sure that Brit would see playful romance as the girl negotiated for her release. Rather than angel-kissed promises, the girl dropped to her knees and greedily unzipped the man’s pants using other oral skills. Seeing the questions start to form silently on her lips, he refocused her on other people nearby.
Among the others, Pieter told him of news in the city. Blueray and Picket were also there and handed an invitation for both Brit and Ethan to attend their wedding. Weddings would be an ideal setting for Brit to observe others, Ethan mused, if the wedding couple were not demonic in nature. As the happy couple rambled, images of mutual defilements on the ceremonial alter graced his thoughts. At the mention of the wedding activities, Ethan had troubled thoughts at merely considering what ingredients would actually be in the wedding cake. As Brit bounced over the idea of the wedding, Ethan tried to remember a demonic ceremony where people did not either end up naked or sacrificed. He would discuss with Pieter later.
Brit had to take her bicycle to the garage to get the brakes checked. Promising to follow her there, Ethan watched her peddle off as he wrapped up his conversation. When he arrived, members of the garage’s motorcycle gang were typically hanging out. However, rather than hearing loud music, seeing impromptu fighting, and smelling the thick scent of alcohol, he witnessed one crying for her family, another looking for a lost puppy, and a many others acting what was unconventional for people who live on a wild edge. He saw Brit wheeling out a vintage 1950’s Harley-Davidson. A light blue creampuff of a bike that looked as if it was never ridden but had simply been worshipped and gently polished daily with a diaper.
The atmosphere grew more chaotic as more of the gang’s behaviors seemed bizarrely altered as was his usually compliant wife. Brit made it clear that the motorcycle was hers and that she wanted it. It mattered not that she did not know anything about motorcycles. Concerned he sat on the back of the motorcycle until he realized that she was looking for peddles like one would find on a bicycle. Leaving her to flip levers and honk the horn, he slid off to watch the growing confusion. Joah appeared and questioned Brit’s purpose with the bike. He had no answers but tried to explain what he knew. Without warning, the motorcycle engine roared and lurched forward. Brit tumbled off the back as it zoomed ahead crashing into the bricks and caused sparks to fly while it scraped and screamed down the sidewalk on its side depositing paint and parts for a block.
Ethan and Joah ensured Brit was fine before assessing the damage of the prized antique and oddity of the crowd. Brit returned to the garage to find another motorcycle. After all, she had been told by one of gang that she was welcome to any that she liked. Joah followed Brit back into the garage after Brit casually discarded the second bike on the sidewalk and had returned to get one that better matched her outfit. Ethan observed the pattern of his wife who seemed to crave immediate gratification over any desire. He returned to Brit and tried to coax her off of the bike. While talking to her, he felt Joah’s arms slide over him prior to wrapping around his waist. Joah’s words reflected her actions. In addition to Brit’s demands and Joah’s exploration, Deb arrived to lament the demise of her precious Harley that continued to lay in pieces along the road.
Tempers were escalating and Ethan checked his guns before telling Joah that he and Brit would love to rest with her in the library. Joah giggled girlishly and let him drag her as he walked toward the north part of town while carrying Brit who seemed to want anything and everything that caught her eye. Once they reached the library, Brit demanded kisses while Joah flopped on a pillow waiting for the offered three-way “rest.” Ethan struggled to juggle both women and was thankful when Grr arrived. Joah’s interest immediately diverted by telling Grr that Ethan did not live up to what was offered. Grr was gentlemanly enough to compensate which seemed to placate Joah.
Ethan finally had opportunity to observe Brit without distraction. He knew it was only a matter of time before some would seek him to discuss the motorcycle carnage left behind. Brit returned his focus. Kisses were demanded and, when not given immediately, Ethan could feel Brit become agitated when there was not instantaneous compliance. To keep her calm, he gave her the kisses that she demanded and was sure she would be content. Once one demand was sated, another took its place. Minutes passed and Ethan found himself pushed back on to one of the cushions in front of the library fire with Brit practically melted against him. The kisses grew longer and deeper limited only by her need for breath.
Surreal, he thought. Joah and Grr were making out on the cushion next to them. Others had entered the library. None of it mattered to Brit as she pressed harder to feed her wants, which escalated her desires and, which each increased desire, a new demand was issued. More kisses. Deeper kisses. Ethan was unsure how her focus would change. He heard Brit say, “I…I want a feather. I want a feather now.” Lorne had come to the library as others had produced a feather and offered it to Ethan. Ethan did not take time to consider his bias of conjured items and nodded his thanks as he gave Brit the feather. She started to drag it over her skin before dragging it over Ethan’s neck. “I want bites,” she demanded.
Ethan heard her words while realizing people had been watching. Surreal. The word came to him again. Joah and Grr were still making out. Brit told him again, “I want bites.” Her tone clearly indicated that she thought they should have already been delivered. Pulling Brit away slightly, Ethan encouraged her to move to a darker corner. Rather than her usual compliance, she grew more insistent. Others questioned the move, and Ethan felt his mood darken. “This,” he thought, “had to be what it felt like to have a drunk date at the prom.” Unwilling to put on a show for the masses, he pulled Brit in and sank his fangs hard into her throat. She purred as her demand was met.
Ethan drank deeply, unwilling to wait for her next demand. Time, he thought. He needed time. He could feel her energy level ebb as he took more than he usually did and kept tabs on her heartbeat as she crumpled against him. Paler while he now looked more human. His fingers trailed over her face knowing that he would share of himself later and she would be better by morning. Nerissa entered with a handful of burning herbs and Joah immediately started to become more her old self. Brit lay like a sack of flour in Ethan’s arms resting. Picking her up, he took her home. Once there, he ensured she drank of him and pulled her so that her head rested on his thigh.
He was irritated. His fingers caressed her hair and he thought of how he would have reacted to such a night a year ago. The couple on the beach might have gotten them killed for behaving so sleazy. In his younger years, a demonic gathering of any kind would have surely had his company. He glowered at the memory of Deb swearing toward Brit with cause, and found himself growing angry at Deb’s actions even as he rationalized it easily. Then there was Joah all but rubbing against him. Many had died for less. His fingers caressed Brit’s skin. Then there was his beloved who had behaved with a child’s demands and a woman’s desires. In that memory, Ethan grinned and found that, as much as he wanted to be, he was not irritated anymore. With a chuckle, he wondered whether the years were mellowing him.
Feeling the sunrise near, Ethan wedged the door to make sure Brit could not leave before he checked her over; and then he pulled her close falling dormant and realized that he was more exhausted than he had felt in years.
One evening in September, Blueray intervened with a tut-tut as Apollo reached to touch Brit’s bite marks in front of Ethan and, Ethan’s abrupt reaction and words caused her to smile cruelly. Her thoughts turned to the true nature of a beast when its treasure is touched. She had heard tales of it, but had never witnessed it for herself. Apollo seemed quite bewildered. Blueray warned, “Do you really want to die so easily?”
