WE ARE FACE-TO-FACE less than a foot apart.
I could touch him by barely moving and he could touch me, but we just stand looking at each other. He’s sweating. Not profusely, but a light glistening across his forehead. He has nice eyes. They hold shadows in them, but they’re a warm brown, like roasted chestnuts or good coffee.
He’s not bad looking, but my brain immediately begins comparing him to Daniel. Daniel’s broader chin, the slight crook of his nose from being broken, the bright emerald of his eyes and their tiny gold flecks.
The only person I’ve ever kissed.
Now it would be two.
It is just a kiss.
Just a kiss.
Why does it feel like so much more than that? Will it be more than that? I know my magick can make someone into my slave. I do not want that with Javier. Not at all.
Immediately I wish I had ditched him when I wanted to before. Then this wouldn’t even be an option or a risk. He’d be safe. Instead I am going to pull him deeper into this world of bloodthirsty gods who want to devour us all.
I can’t.
I won’t.
“Hey,” he says, “it’s okay. We can do this.” His hands close on the sleeves of the coat and it sings out. It pulls across the backs of my knees as its hem moves forward to caress along Javier’s legs. The coat likes him.
I look into his eyes and there is a determination there. He’s in this thing already. He’s been magicked across the country by me. He watched me fight the sand dweller. He’s seen Ashtoreth’s true form.
And he’s down to ride.
Okay.
Fuck it.
I reach up and his hands fall away from my arms. The skin on his face is smooth and warm under my palms as I pull his mouth to mine.
Our lips press together.
It’s … awkward. I can feel his teeth hard on the other side of thin lips, the fuzz of his baby mustache tickles my nose, and his breath is hot and moist in one small spot to the side of my nose.
And there’s nothing.
No spark.
No connection.
No thrill.
Just two faces smushed together.
I feel him start to pull away.
As I pull him closer, my lips part against his and he yields to me, opening to me. My tongue slides into his mouth and there is a click at the back of my skull and my brain begins to rattle and hum and I feel Javier in my hands as if his skull is a cup I can drink from. His life force pours down my throat and it’s thin and sharp like I think wine would taste and undercut with a herbal bitterness that only feeds my thirst for it. I swallow his energy down and it hits my magick like a cup of high-octane gasoline thrown on a fire.
The magick erupts, filling my body as it lights my blood on fire and paints the backs of my eyelids with white static. I could drain him, take all of his life and keep it in my belly. He would let me. He is limp in my hands, not moving, not fighting.
I could have him all.
I would never want again if I simply drink him down.
I push away from the lie of that thought and him away from me. The connection remains, stretched between us, but now I can think. The want to drain him is an echo instead of all I can hear. I concentrate and squeeze the connection shut. Javier sways on his feet but doesn’t fall. His eyes are glassy and his smile is slack. His lips still glisten with my saliva.
Understanding slides into my head. My magick is triggered mostly by contact with bodily fluid. That’s why the kiss worked so well.
I feel light and tight, magick tingling under my skin. The world around looks sharper, brighter.
Ashtoreth is smiling.
“Feeling better?” she asks.
Before I can say it Javier responds. “Oh yeah, mamacita.”