Page 12 of We Were Eternal Once

“Yes,” you say. “Both or none.”

He nods and stands, pushing off the table to disappear into a corner.

“We have a room in the inn,” I grind out. “I don’t want to stay with him. He’s disgusting. He touched you and…”

“Shh, psiche mou. You will understand soon. Come.” You place a coin on the table and stand, nodding for me to follow. I do, glad to be away from the disgusting drink. I can still taste it on my tongue, relieving me of my appetite for a moment.

The man finds us and leads us through the streets to his home near the water’s edge. I hear no other heartbeats inside.

He reaches for you, his hands on your hips, on your thighs, on all the places I’ve claimed with my tongue. I am moving before I realize it, my body poised to strike him down, to kill him for touching what’s mine…

But your hand closes on his neck and lifts him into the air. His eyes bulge, his face purples, his feet kicking uselessly at your shins. His hands grapple with yours, trying to pry them from his neck, trying to sever your hold. But you are strong and you don’t flag, even as he struggles.

“Melinoë,” you say softly. “Come here.”

I step closer, awed by you.

“First, you make eye contact,” you say softly. Your red eyes lock with his. He continues to flail, his mouth opening and closing uselessly.

“Then, you imagine your command. Think it, breathe it, let it roll through your mind. Let it be the only thing you think.”

Spittle coats his bottom lip. Blood vessels burst under his eyes and I am transfixed. The only death I know is my own. The man careens toward death, unable to fend you off.

“Then—speak your command. Speak it as though there is nothing else to do but obey. Speak as though you are a god, as though suffering will follow whoever disregards you. Stop struggling.”

The man goes flaccid in your grip.

“You will not run,” you say, placing him gently back on his feet. He sways, his chest heaving as he fights for breath. But he does not run, even as his eyes alight with fear.

“I want you to command him not to be afraid,” you say. I move toward you and stand before him, tilting my head up to look into his eyes. They are wild, the whites bloodshot, rolling like the mare that pulled the cart. No one has ever feared me before.

“Lock eyes,” you whisper into my ear, your teeth grazing the shell of it. I shiver and do as you say, unblinking at our prey.

“Think your command. Roll it over in your head, in your soul, in your heart. Let it be all you know. And then…say it.”

Do not fear us.

My mind wills his submission. I turn the words over again and again, pulling them close, changing their inflection and cadence. They are my mantra, my prayer.

Do not fear us.

“Do not fear us,” I say.

He pisses himself.

I don’t move. I’ve failed. If I cannot accomplish this one thing, how do I expect to hunt? Will you take all my kills for me? I can’t bear the thought of leaving you alone with a creature like this, a disgusting human man that would touch you as if you were his property. As if we did not belong to each other.

You kiss the side of my face. “It took me years to get it right. Come, there’s no use practicing while starving.”

I blink, reeling.

“Years?” I ask.

“Years,” you affirm, grabbing his wrist and bringing it to your mouth. You bite and the scent of blood fills the room. I sway, my body aching for the taste. “Come.”

I kneel before you and take his wrist, pressing my lips to it. It tastes of salt and sweat and…oh. Oh. I take a long drink of it, breathing in the euphoria that follows. The man groans, his pants tightening.

“Do they all do that?” I ask in disgust.