Out of the Box 9 Read online

  “Why wouldn’t mean much to you. But I can tell you what for.” Her eyes plunged in mine. Her expression was pure seriousness. “I brought you here so that you and Anando can exchange proper goodbyes. If I know him at all, he left without warning, didn’t he?” She waited for a second, but continued when I didn’t reply. “Play with him one last time, Virginia. Get him out of your system. Get from him the goodbye he didn’t give you.”

  I shook my head slowly. “But I don’t want to say goodbye.”

  She chuckled briefly. “Then make sure that he can’t get you out of his system. Judging by the past few days, it shouldn’t be all that difficult.”

  I frowned. I wasn’t sure what she meant, or how she expected me to talk to Anando, let alone convince him of anything, when he had refused to talk to me when I had called him. Before I could add anything, however, she nodded to herself.

  “Are you ready to see him?”

  Was I? Even now, I couldn’t answer.

  “Come with me.”

  She gestured to the door behind me and I moved out of the way. Hands in her pockets and still barefoot, she led me back to the elevator.

  “Yesterday, he started talking about going to Europe for the New Year,” she said as she pressed the button for the twenty-fourth floor. “He wouldn’t admit it, but I think he was upset you weren’t calling anymore.”

  I didn’t reply. I had wanted to call, but I figured she had his phone.

  “So, I had to stop him from leaving,” she concluded. “He can be so stubborn, sometimes. As I’m sure you know.”

  She looked at me questioningly before stepping out of the elevator and into a penthouse that looked like hers, minus the artwork. It was all much simpler, more modern, like Anando’s house in Haventown. I felt ridiculously relieved when I realized they didn’t live together.

  “The play room is this way.” She led the way down a corridor, stopping a few feet from the closed door and dropping her voice to a murmur. “He doesn’t know you’re coming, and he won’t know it’s you until you decide to let him know. Show him a good time, won’t you?”

  Looking at the door, she smiled, a small, almost wistful smile, then handed me the silver key on its ribbon. I took it with a hesitant hand and watched as she turned on her heel and started back toward the elevator.

  “Wait,” I said, keeping my voice quiet as she had. She looked back toward me. “I still don’t understand—”

  “I hadn’t seen him in almost a hundred years,” she cut in quietly. “He only ever comes back to me when he’s hurt. Really hurt.” She gave me a once-over look again and shrugged. “I still don’t see how you could have hurt him like that, but you did. So go ahead and fix what you broke.” Her gray eyes hardened, and suddenly they seemed like ice. I shivered. “Be careful, though. If you make things worse, I’ll make you regret it.”

  And with that warning, she left me to contemplate a door I was both scared and impatient to open.

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second. It didn’t do much to calm my heartbeat or my thoughts. I shoved the key in my pants pocket and entered.

  The door opened with a murmur of metal well oiled. I stepped in and let my eyes adjust to the near darkness. On each wall, a series of three sconces lit up the room with the wavering flames of thin candles. The light reflected on various metal objects hanging from hooks on the walls. I barely paid them any mind. All I saw was Anando. Chains strung from the ceiling bound him in the center of the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

  A whiff of incense reached my nose even as I found his face. I understood, now, why she had said he wouldn’t know it was me. The incense would cover my scent, and the blindfold over his eyes would take care of his sight.

  “Come on, Mary. Let me go.”

  He sounded halfway between annoyed and exasperated, and I could easily see why. Manacles on each of his wrists bound him to thick chains that kept his arms over his head and slightly apart. I wondered how long he’d been chained there like this, but I didn’t say a word. At least now I knew what the key in my pocket was for.

  I took slow steps toward him, drinking in the sight of his body. He was wearing faded jeans and a short-sleeved shirt that hung open on his chest, revealing glimpses of his skin to my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to touch him.

  “Mary,” he repeated, sounding like he was losing patience. “If you think…” His voice trailed off and he tilted his head to one side as though listening intently. I could imagine his frown as he realized that yes, there was a heart beating like thunder just a couple of feet in front of him.

  My hand trembled as I reached over and rested it in the middle of his chest.

  “Listen,” he said urgently, “however much she paid you, you don’t—”

  My hand clenched and my nails dug into his skin. He hissed and jerked back as far as the chains would allow him.

  “I’m a vampire,” he growled, and flashed his fangs in my direction. “You’d better think twice before pissing me off.”

  “Or what?” I asked very low, low enough, I thought, that he might not recognize my voice immediately. “You’ll bite me?”

  I came closer to him and pressed my body to his. I wrapped an arm around his waist to stop him from jerking back, and pressed my other hand at the back of his head, pushing his face into my neck. I felt him become completely rigid against me when his lips touched my skin. He sniffed once and sighed, the fight draining out of him.

  “Virginia.”

  He wasn’t going to bite me, I realized, and so I pulled back. As soon as I let go of him, he turned his head to the corner of the room on the right of the door.

  “You’ve gone too far,” he said, spitting out the words angrily. “When I get out of here, don’t expect to ever see me again.”

  Taken aback as to why he’d address the wall, I looked at the corner, almost expecting to find his Sire standing there. Instead, I noticed the surveillance camera just under the ceiling. The red light on its side indicated it was on.

  I was grateful to Mary, since it seemed to be her name, for giving me the chance to see Anando again. I wasn’t grateful enough, however, to give her a free peep show. I looked around but found nothing that could serve as cover. Without thinking twice, I quickly unbuttoned my shirt and slipped it off. It took me three tries of throwing it on the camera before it stayed put, covering the lens.

  “Is it the only camera?” I asked, turning back to Anando.

  “Yes. Did you disable it?”

  I didn’t reply. Coming to stand next to him, I touched his right wrist where the metal was digging into his skin. He jerked, though I couldn’t have said if it was in pain or surprise.

  “Does it hurt?”

  I was asking about him being chained, of course, but deep down, it was something else altogether I was wondering about. Mary had said it plainly, but I still didn’t know if I could believe her. Had he hurt as much as I had, in the past two months? Had he missed me?

  I guess he heard the question I didn’t dare to ask, because he said, “You shouldn’t have come. It’ll only make things harder.” He paused, then added as though an afterthought, “Harder for you.”

  Somehow, that belated addition didn’t sound all that truthful. I trailed my fingers down his arm and frowned when the fabric of his sleeve stopped me. That wouldn’t do.

  “You should go now, before you do anything you’ll regret later.”

  Stepping back, I looked around the room for something suitable. Near a sconce, a knife with a blade thin as two of my fingers together and as long as my hand hung, hilt up and sharp point down. I picked it up and returned to Anando who, oblivious, was still rambling.

  “Mary probably thought she was doing me a favor, but she doesn’t understand—”

  He fell quiet when I rested the knife on his arm, the flat of the blade just pressing against his skin.

  “Virginia?” he said, and for the first time that day, his voice wavered. For the first time, th
e emotion in his words had the ring of truth. “What are you doing?”

  I lifted the blade from his skin and slipped it inside his sleeve, angling it upward. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

  The fabric ripped almost with no pressure on my part. I repeated the motion until I had reached his collar and his shirt slipped down his back, held up only by the other sleeve.

  “Should I be scared?” he asked back. His voice had firmed up again, probably because he now knew what I was doing.

  “I don’t know.” I ran my free hand from his wrist down his arm and then along his ribs, enjoying the small shudder that my touch elicited. “Did I ever give you a reason to be scared before?”

  He scoffed. The sound was strange, coming from a man who was chained, blindfolded, and half naked. “This is not like you,” he said. He stumbled on the last word when my nails brushed against his nipple. “You don’t want to be doing this.”

  “Don’t I?” I murmured. With short, precise cuts, I finished cutting the shirt off him. The shreds fell at his feet, leaving him bare-chested for my eyes and hands to explore. I dropped the knife to the floor and pressed my hands to his chest, just feeling his skin for a moment. “Why would I be touching you if I didn’t want to?”

  My fingers slid up his torso then followed his collarbone before coming up his neck. I framed his face in my hands. Unable to resist, I stepped closer to him until my body was pressed alongside his. I leaned in until our mouths were only millimeters apart. He was very still beneath my touch, very calm, when I felt as though my heart was about to break free from my chest.

  “Why would I be kissing you,” I whispered, “if I didn’t want to?”

  I brushed my lips across his in what could barely be called a kiss. He let me do as I pleased, but didn’t reciprocate.

  “Virginia, please,” he said in a very low voice. I could feel each word against my lips. “You’re only making things more difficult.”

  Abruptly, I took a step back, severing all contact between us. For the briefest instant, his body leaned forward as though seeking mine before he stilled again.

  “I'm making things difficult?” I asked, a little angry. “I’m not the one who ran away without a goodbye.”

  “I didn’t run away,” he said, his face too blank beneath the blindfold. “I left. I never pretended I’d stay in Haventown forever.”

  Annoyed by how carefully he was controlling his expression, I went to stand behind him so I wouldn’t see his face. Was it all a charade, I wondered, or did he truly not care? His Sire had said he did. Could I believe her? Or was I supposed to believe Anando?

  Unable to decide, I came close to Anando again, and this time pressed my lace-covered breasts to his back, encircling his waist with my arms. I laid my cheek on his shoulder and closed my eyes.

  This wasn’t how I had imagined things would go. I had thought he’d talk to me. Explain, maybe. Touch me again the way I longed for him to touch me. Instead, I thought bitterly, all he did was try to chase me away.

  Except…

  He wasn’t, was he? His words were clear enough, refusing me all hope, as were his carefully schooled features. But he wasn’t pushing me away from him, wasn’t twisting in his chains to break my gentle hold on him, wasn’t fighting back. On the contrary, his body was very still against me, compliant, even pushing back into my embrace when I loosened it. Could his body be telling a truth he wouldn’t let himself voice?

  As light as downy feathers, my fingers trailed over his chest again, skimming his flat nipples until they were hard nubs. I slowly lowered my right hand past his belly button and rested it over his crotch. The hardened bulge inside his jeans proved he had enjoyed my caresses, but his words, once again, did not match his body.

  “This is a mistake, Virginia,” he said urgently. “She shouldn’t have brought you here. It was all a mistake—”

  He broke off when I lightly squeezed his cock through his jeans. “If you really believe that,” I said just behind his ear, letting my lips brush his earlobe, “just tell me to stop. Just say it outright. Tell me ‘Virginia, I want you to stop’ and I swear I will. Tell me ‘I want you to go’ and I’ll return home. Just say it, Anando. Say it.”

  I held my breath and, completely immobile against him, I waited for him to say the words. Seconds passed in a heavy silence. He finally lowered his head, but he said nothing.

  Keeping a hand on his cock, I trailed my fingers over his chest, sometimes barely grazing his skin, sometimes pressing in lightly with my nails. I pulled back a little and kissed the nape of his neck. He shivered at that small touch, then again when I pressed soft kisses along the line of his shoulders. My hands now at his waist, I ducked beneath his arm to return in front of him, standing as close as possible. I could feel his body press against mine with each breath I took.

  I slid my fingers up his arms and over the manacles that held him captive to link my fingers with his. He squeezed back and leaned in as though seeking my lips. I evaded his attempt and instead laid soft kisses over his neck and up to his jaw, slowly making my way to his mouth, reminding him that, for now, and of his own will, he was in my control. When I brushed my lips against his, I wished, briefly, that I could have felt his arms around me, holding me tight, giving me the illusion for a moment that he would never let go. I knew that it would have been nothing but an illusion, though, and so I contented myself with wrapping him in my arms and holding him close.

  “Every time I called,” I asked, breathing the words against his cheek. “Why did you even pick up?”

  His face turned slightly and he brushed his cheek against mine. “Do you wish I hadn’t?”

  My arms tightened around him for a second. “No. I wish you had talked to me.” As much as I tried, I couldn’t keep my pain out of my words. “I wish you had talked to me before leaving.”

  He tensed against me, and an edge of defensiveness crept in his voice. “And said what, Virginia? Set down rules? Topics we shouldn’t talk about, requests that shouldn’t be made? We never could hold on to the rules before. Would it have been any different this time?”

  I looked inside myself before I replied. I didn’t really want to be turned, or if I did, I hadn’t admitted it to myself. I had just been curious. Would it have been easy to stay clear of the topic of him siring me once the possibility had been raised? Probably not. Could I have done it? Maybe.

  “If I had known the alternative was losing you,” I said at last, “I’d have followed any rule you made.”

  I kissed his chest over his heart. My right hand sneaked down to rest over his cock. It had softened while we talked. I gently rubbed him through his jeans and rested my head against his shoulder. The chains clanked quietly as I caressed him. I looked up at his hands to find that he had caught the chains and was holding them tightly. My eyes drifted down to his face, and I couldn’t bear not to see his eyes anymore. I tugged the blindfold off. Anando blinked a few times before looking at me. He seemed oddly vulnerable, as though he didn’t quite know what to expect next.

  Abruptly, I remembered he had had that same look, briefly, during our last night in Haventown, when I had asked questions that made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t a look I liked. I didn’t want Anando to be wary of me. A cold feeling of awareness flashed through me and I shivered at the frost it left over my soul. He’d never be anything other than wary anymore, not if he thought that at any moment I could raise a topic that was taboo to him.

  The decision was easier to make than I would have believed. Bringing both hands to frame his face, I pressed my lips to his for a chaste kiss, wondering if he’d realize it was an apology of sorts.

  “The first night we played,” I said, pushing the words out slowly. “When I looked into the toy chest and I saw the chains there…” How far away that first night seemed… So much had changed since them, the least of all being me. But one thing had remained the same. “It wasn’t something I had ever wanted to play with. And even now, if the only way I can be
with you is when one of us is chained, with metal or with words, it’s still not something I want.” I swallowed hard and banished the tears that wanted to rise to my eyes. This was my decision. I had no reason to cry. It would be better this way, for me, but especially for him. “So I guess… I guess it really is goodbye, this time. Isn’t it?”

  Seconds trickled by until he finally asked in a low voice, “Let me go, Virginia.”

  One cuff after the other, with my hand shaking just enough to make it difficult, I released his wrists. He let out a little grunt and rolled his shoulders back and forth, then rubbed at the chafed skin of his wrists.

  I shoved the silver key back in my pocket, thinking I would keep it as a reminder that it was my choice. I was letting him go rather than hold him captive in bonds that would hurt us both. I was the one who was saying goodbye this time.

  With a weak smile, I turned away. I took only one step toward the corner where I wanted to get my shirt back before his arms closed around me from behind. He held me tight, his embrace as unyielding as chains.

  “I picked up that damn phone because I missed you too,” he murmured into my hair, so low I almost didn’t catch his words.

  “You could have come back.”

  “And then what?”

  The sadness in his voice cut me deeper than I would have expected. I tried to fight it back, and fight the realization that, for him, leaving had truly been the only option.

  “And then we could have taken things one day at a time,” I replied, choking up a little.

  He sighed softly. “And how often would you have thought about it again? How often would I have seen in your eyes that apprehension that you’re growing older and I’m not? How much time before you asked, Virginia? Because you would have asked. I know it.” Very quietly, as though to himself, he added: “They always do.”

  It had never occurred to me until that moment that others might have asked him to turn them before. Had I awakened old memories when I had danced around the subject without quite managing to say the words? We hadn’t been alone in that bed, I now understood. Four hundred years… I could ask as many questions as he let me, I’d never know everything. There had to be a hundred, a thousand ways to hurt him now that he had opened himself to me like this. I had stumbled on one. Of course he’d want to get away from me before I discovered more. He was only protecting himself.