Ascension by S.E. Lund

Consider us back to business. No more of this little dance we've been doing, skirting around the issue. I thought," he says and pauses, licking his teeth. "I thought if I gave you a little encouragement, that if we could get here alone, that you'd come to your senses and realize what we could have, and I still think it might be possible. But I'm no therapist. I can't help you with this – problem - you have. You have to fix it yourself."
    I can't help it. Tears spring to my eyes.
    "Now, look at that ," he says, waving a hand at me . "Instead of taking my advice and admitting I'm right, you start to cry. It doesn't work on me, Eve. Seriously. I'm a hardened soldier, a vampire hunter. I'm used to eating sweet young things like you for breakfast."
    "I'm sorry, I—"
    " Don't ," he says and grabs my hand, squeezing it – hard. Hard enough that it hurts. "Don't be sorry. Be angry. Believe me, anger is so much better than sorrow or pain. You got an issue – deal with it . It's getting in the way of you living your life. You know, we could have a sweet thing going on here between us. But we can't – not when dear old foster dad," he says and waves his hand, "what was his name?"
    "Bob."
    "Dear old foster dad Bob Hayden-"
    "No, that was my real dad's last name," I say, barely able to remember my first foster dad without a shiver of revulsion. "His name was Robert John Thompson." I pull my hand away from him, saying it with as much disgust as I can muster.
    "Not when 'dear old foster dad Robert' is still fucking you over ten years later all the way from Boston ."
    "He's not in Boston . He's in Providence …" I stop and glance at him, but his eyes are hooded. I realize what he just did – what he got m e to do. He said he did interrogations. I've told him who my enemy is and where he is without even knowing it. He's so skilled.
    "What you should have done," he says and leans forward even closer. "What someone should do, is slip a knife between his ribs and cut the bastard's heart out. Instead, you're cutting yourself."
    I look into his eyes and know he's right about me.
    "You really don't live in the same world as me, do you?" I say. Now it's time for me to shake my head. "You think I can just fuck you because you look like Michel. I can't."
    "You see, Eve, you're still not telling yourself the truth." He takes my hand and holds it in his, softly this time. "Be honest with yourself at least, even if you're not honest with everyone else. You wanted me right from the start. I could tell when I touched you. I wanted you. By all rights, there was nothing keeping us from fucking our brains out – except convention and society and ethics."
    "Those things matter."
    "What matters , Eve, is what's right here right now." He turns my hand over in his, running his fingers over it. "That's all we've got. You're mortal. You die. Before I know it, you'll be dead and I'll be alone – again. I want to enjoy you. Now . I'm not my brother. I don't feel a need to wait until everything's perfect."
    He lets go of my hand and leans back again. His gaze travels over my face.
    "How can I," I say, swallowing. " Fuck you when Michel will know?"
    "Listen, you've got to stop holding out hope that he'll come back. He's not. I'm here. I look just like him, Eve. I'll grow my hair, act all pious, if you want." He gives that lopsided grin, but it just makes me more upset.
    I shake my head, unable to express what I feel. I know he can't understand.
    "It's true, Eve. If you want Michel, I'm a pretty good substitute. Just pretend I'm all soulful and regretful about fucking you, making you come. Like Michel. I won't be regretful but by all means, pretend that I am . I'll even tie you up and fuck you the way you want, if it turns you on. You can even call me Master and I won't mind, although seeing as I was a knight, Sir would do fine as well."
    "I'll never call you 'Sir' or 'Master,'" I say, his tone getting my back up.
    He shivers and closes his eyes