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"I know what you want, girl. Just hold stil ."
The first cut was torture--I heard the clip of the scissors and shuddered as Iris handed me a fistful of blotched hair. But as I stared at it, it occurred to me that maybe this wasn't a bad idea at al . I would have looked hideous; the hair was frizzed from the peroxide and baking soda.
As she snipped her way across my head, razoring in some parts, I began to look forward to the difference. Hel , I felt different--something about losing my fear of Menol y's vampirism had opened the desire to make big changes, to sacrifice the parts of myself that made me uncertain and frightened. I was tired of being timid, of being hesitant.
"Almost done," Iris said, whisking off my neck.
My head felt so much lighter, and my neck felt oddly exposed, now that I had nothing to cover it up. "Can I see?"
"Give me a moment." She vanished for a moment, hurrying back with a tube of hair gel, a spritzer bottle, and a blow dryer. She misted my hair and rubbed a little of the gel on her hands, then began teasing it, then brought the blow dryer to bear for a few moments, after which she stood back. "Okay, take a look."
I stood up slowly and approached the mirror over the fireplace. As I stared at my reflection, I almost didn't recognize myself. I was six one, and the new haircut made me look even tal er. It was so different--stil a patchwork of color, but now it was cute, sassy, bitchy--even a little badass.
"I like it," I said, tilting my head this way and that. The tattoo in the middle of my forehead glimmered from beneath the bangs sweeping to the side. The black crescent-sickle marked me as belonging to the Autumn Lord. I slowly reached up and felt it. The pulsing energy never left me, and over the past few months it had begun to grow stronger. I had the feeling something was coming my way, something big and scary, but strangely, I felt comforted.
As I stared at myself in the mirror, I began to phase out--my face flashing between myself and my panther self. I steeled myself, knowing what was coming.
And then, Hi'ran was there. The Autumn Lord stood behind me. Menol y and Iris couldn't see him, but he was there for me, smiling with those pale ful lips, his long dark hair cascading down his shoulders in a trail of frost and silver.
He put his hands on my shoulders, and I leaned back against him. The energy running through his fingers made me want to fal into his arms.
"I was thinking about you tonight. I sensed you needed me."
Hi'ran leaned down--he was so very, very tal , and his cloak was black, covered with a wash of fiery autumn leaves that continual y fel from the wreath around his head. As his face neared mine, I stared at my reflection in his unblinking eyes, surrounded by the sparkle of stars echoed through the abyss.
I inhaled his scent. Bonfires and graveyard dust, old musty books, ink long dried and yel owed paper, the scent of mold and decay and toadstools and moss . . . it al swirled around me, an intoxicating blend that set my heart to racing.
"I'm sad," I whispered. "I'm losing my love. So much is happening, and I don't think he and I can make it through the approaching storms."
"You aren't losing your love," Hi'ran whispered, his breath a gust of chil y autumn air on my skin. "You're making room. Keep your eyes open, my sweet.
Keep your mind open. Remember the curve of my lips, the scent of old leather and autumn carnivals, the frost that lingers on my breath. Listen for the song your mark sings when I'm near."
And with that, he leaned down and blew on the shining black crescent, and a vibration ran through me that played me like a harp, string by string. I let out a long gasp, wanting him, wanting to give up my breath to him, and he turned me around and slowly lowered his lips onto mine, enfolding me in his arms.
The world began to spin, a vortex of life and death and blood and bones, of leaves in a whirlwind, and al I could taste on his tongue were cognac and juniper and smoked venison stew. As I sank into the kiss, an ice-fil ed fire raced through me, fil ing every crevice, every niche, and my breasts began to tingle, igniting every point along my body.
As I pressed against him, he slid one leg between my knees, and I opened to him, but he did not reach for me, just let me rub gently against him as he sucked my life out with a single gasp and then--as I fought for breath--he pressed his lips to mine again and blew me gently back into my body and I came, moaning softly.
Spinning, the orgasm spread through me like melted butter, warm and vibrant, as smooth as glowing lava, crackling like a hearth fire. I gasped as he nuzzled my neck, his tongue playing each and every nerve in my body.
"My living bride, my living bride," he whispered, his hands careful y holding me by the waist. "I can't take you. Not yet--if I did, you'd die. But I want you.
There wil be a way . . . and then, one day, you'l join me in my world."
"You said you wanted me to bear your heir--how can I if you can't . . . if we can't . . ." I stared into his eyes, caught in the power of his spel .
"Oh, trust me, it will happen but not quite the way you expect. Until then, cry no more, my lovely panther. Cry no more." And then Hi'ran backed away, and I reached for him. It seemed so simple in his world--it was life or death. He was one of the Harvestmen, an avatar of Death, and it would be easier just to walk into his world.
He shook his head. "No, it's not your time. You have so much to do before I can think of claiming you to sit at my side. But I'l always be with you, always feel you, always know what you're thinking." And then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
"Delilah? Delilah? Are you okay?"
Menol y's voice echoed through me, bringing me back to myself. I turned, and she gasped and jumped back, her fangs lowering. Catching hold of herself, she closed her mouth.
"I'm . . ." I blushed, wondering if I'd put on a show in front of them, but Iris saw my fear and shook her head.
"Don't try to explain," Iris said, stepping in. "We can feel it on you. You've been with him? You were in a trance."
