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Revive the world that once was
Before twin blood moons rise.
A pop bringsme back to the present, the solider deciding she didn’t like me sucking her toe like a pacifier. Placing it back into her boot, she then shoves in her stumped leg and hobbles off with the aid of her horse.
“Well,” Humpty Dainty breathes and I suddenly realize she’s so close. As in, straddling me. “What did you see?”
Lie. The voice at my neck sounds, the invisible furry body shifting across my shoulders. I mean…I wasn’t exactly going to blurt out the truth. What it sounds like is some egotistical asshole in the sky just told me I’m doomed to belong to a man and the future of Wonderlust is on my shoulders. No thank you.
“Tell me! I need to know; will the King be resurrected? Will he return for his army and take me as his bride for keeping the zombie army in check?” With each word she desperately grabs onto, Humpty drags herself further up my dress. Her pleading tone tastes more bitter on my tongue than the toe ever did.
“Mmhmm, that’s literally what I saw. It’s like you’re in my head or something,” I nod, peeling her away from me. Without the horse blocking me in, I’m able to slip off the trunk and brush off my satin skirt. “Well, this has been awesome, but I have a destiny to fulfil. Thank you for your…yolk.” Taking another step backward, I bump into a torso coated in metal armor.
“Wait. You didn’t say which Tweedle you’ll follow. If the outcome is to return my King, I need to know who to put my faith in. The rascal or the reject?” My poker face almost breaks at that. Almost. I wouldn’t answer even if I could because this egg is giving me major creepy vibes, but which Tweedle was meant to be which? Either way, the air is growing thinner in the kind of way when I’m about to have a psychotic break and I need out of here.
Duck left. The zombies are invincible, but they’re slow.
Peering at the faint smile to my side, the brush of a tail skates over my chest. Don’t query it, Malice. If snitches get stitches, questions get sanctions. I grab the furball at my neck, stopping it from dropping off as I duck left. Dodge right. Skid on my knees beneath a horse and dart around the upside-down tents being used as glorified hammocks.
Humpty wails for the soldiers to grab me, but the voice on my shoulder was right. They’re slow as fuck. Arms stretch out of the tent openings, uselessly trying to grab for my knotted hair trailing in the wind I’m creating. Stan clings on for his poor damn life and I vow to treat him to a spa day after this. I’ll massage his fragile little heart myself if I have to. Dude deserves a break from running for his life.
With the dimming flame behind me, I’m sprinting blind until a figure steps out from behind a trunk. Slamming into the solid chest, I vaguely register this one isn’t covered in a steel plate. A hand wraps around my mouth, my body curled inwards until the rough press of bark scratches at my front. The smile on my shoulder brightens, its furry weight finally lifting.
‘I’ll leave you in good hands. Well…if that’s the path you choose.’I watch that taunting smile spin like a Catherine wheel, spiraling away and leaving me at my captive’s mercy. Yeah, cheers bitch-tits. The chest at my back leans in, caging me as lips graze the curve of my ear. At the same time, fingers trail the front of my thigh, smoothing the satin in small circles towards my pussy. I blanch, more at my body’s reaction to a possible rapist until his voice caresses my senses.
“Who prefers the possessive, broody asshole now?” I hate the smirk that brushes my ear as much as the heat pooling in my core. A stifled groan sounds beyond the tree trunk, the drag of a detached foot shuffling through the leaves on the ground. One hand still clamped around my mouth, Tweed snakes his free arm around my waist and the next second, I’m airborne.
Air whooshes past my ears. Branches claw at my skin. Leaves pound onto my scalp, giving me a foliage headache until we breach the canopy. Tweed lands with the agility of a panther, flipping me around in one smooth motion and holding me against him as he skates over the treetops. My head buries into his neck, my legs around his waist. Each jostled movement rubs me against his waistband in such a way, I struggle to control myself. This is the art of not knowing my future. I end up in situations like this, forgetting my own damn name or why I decided I didn’t like this twin in the first place.
Muscles flex. Veins pop. The coolness of his skin spears my heated flesh, my mind travelling to all sorts of naughty places. Would riding Tweed be akin to fucking a popsicle? I wonder what flavor he’d taste like. A rumble sounds in his chest, vibrating through my jaw and directly to my clit, as if he knows what I’m thinking.
Dropping from the height, a scream lodges in my throat. My thighs bind around his waist and nails dig into his back until the thud of us landing judders through me. It was gentler than I expected all things considered. The tree line of the forest looms over me and Tweed begins to stride away, not saying a word or attempting to put me down.
“Um…I could probably walk from here,” I mutter, my arms still as tight around his neck.
“Yeah, you could,” he agrees in a low voice filled with lust. “But I got the impression you were enjoying yourself.” With the jolt of his crotch, I reckon I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to break away just yet, but sure, I’ll take the blame. I’ll cling to this slice of muscle and put my thoughts on hold. After all, how often is it you get to test a supposed-vampire’s restraint?
13
Waking on a snort, I sip back the drool spilling from my lips. My arms are limp, hooked over a pair of hefty traps. My ass supported by unmoving palms. The evidence of my sleep has pooled in Tweed’s collar bone and soaked into his purple and black pinstripe t-shirt. We’re no longer moving, and if it wasn’t for the husk of a moan ratting in his chest when I lick at the rest of my dribble, I’d have thought he was a statue. It’s only polite to clean up my own mess.
Emerald green eyes lower, desire swirling in their depths. I feel that; my morning-after hair is my best look, but usually I have the satisfied ache between my legs to go along with it. Unfurling from his hold, Tweed’s large hands remain on my back until I’m standing, but still in his embrace. The unmoving chest at my cheek oddly comforting.
Morning rays breaking free of post-storm clouds span across a derelict play area. A set of swings sway slightly beside a rusted seesaw. A curled yellow slide attached to a climbing frame takes up half the fenced confines. Abandoned, but fairly normal in retrospect.
“You just stood in here while I slept,” I comment. Tweed’s head inclines, his stuck-up bravado sorely missing.
“It’s hard enough to control myself when you’re awake. An unconscious victim,” he grumbles and forces his eyes away. “Too tempting."
There’s something wholly sexy in being referred to as a victim. All these years, I’ve been the perpetrator. Caged and feared. Tweed’s right - I also want to be awake for whenever he’s ready to ‘lose control’ with me. Fuck destinies and downfalls, I live for the moment. Thefeels. Although that reminds me, and the little bell starts tring-a-linging in my head.
“You have some explaining to do.” Breaking free of his cool hold, I move towards the swings. The metal clinks and squeaks as I sit on the eroded rubber seat, gesturing for Tweed to take the other. He complies.
“What do you want to know?” his gravelled tone rings out, fitting into the barren setting perfectly. Counting out three fingers, I twist to straddle the seat and face him.
“Number one, the vampire thing.” Tweed’s shoulder’s lower as if he wasn’t expecting to explain something so trivial.
“Easy. We were bitten by Norris, the vampire bat,” he half-shrugs. Fair enough, but now I want to know where to find this bat. Immortality sounds like fun, the blood-thirsty hunger is an added bonus. “It was the last of his poison venom before he died,” Tweed grunts and I huff. Fucking typical. Moving on, I point to my second finger.
