Stories Hub / NonHuman / Alex and Damien

Alex and Damien

by phoenixphair 08/16/05

***This story uses the same characters as Ana's Induction but it is not necessary to read one to get the other (though by all means, give the other a look)***

He pushed her up against the wall roughly, his mouth covering hers as if to consume her. She moaned and pulled him against her more tightly as his lips ran down her neck, lingering over the pounding artery beneath her flushed skin, but moving quickly away. He bent to pull the tight tee over her head, popping open the lacy bra as if it were so much tissue. His mouth locked over one hard, deeply pink nipple as he kneaded the other. She felt his sharp teeth faintly graze her, but only briefly before he seemed to pull himself away with an effort and move his lips back up to her mouth.

"Why don't you?" she murmured, kissing his cheek as he sucked at the skin of her throat. "Why do you never drink from me? You know I want you to..."

He didn't respond for a moment, pulling his lips away from her flesh and resting his forehead against the base of her throat.

"I'm afraid," he whispered, almost too quietly for her to hear, his breath sending a little shiver across her chest.

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of what might happen... I fear for you... and for me," he said, looking up into her eyes. "I'm scared that, if I taste your blood again, I'll want it all. I want you so badly that I'm afraid the spirit inside me will take you... it wanted you from the first taste... and it's not time for that yet..."

He sighed and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her and lifting her away from the wall, carrying her towards the bedroom. She looked down at him, her dark eyes unreadable, but he could sense the flood of emotion behind them. The sound of the blood thundering through her veins was intoxicating, and he had to close his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as he set her down on her feet. He knelt to slide her remaining clothes off, knowing her eyes still looked into his heart. She waited for him to stand and she slid her hands under his shirt, letting them heat the cool skin of his chest for a moment before pushing it over his head and letting it drop to the marble floor. His eyes flared dangerously, full of repressed passion, terrible lust held in check for weeks.

"I trust you," she whispered, pressing her hot lips to his chest. He could smell her clean, fragrant hair, the heat of her skin, the rising scent of passion. He closed his eyes, feeling the desire for her peak in him, he ran his tongue over his upper fangs, letting them make a tiny slash across it. His mouth heated by his own blood, he bent to kiss her again, feeling her body react to the fire and the power. She took in her breath sharply, pressing her naked breasts against his chest, letting her head fall back, neck exposed to him. He couldn't control himself any longer and bent his lips to her throat, gently holding the back of her head with one hand and pulling her tight to him with the other.

"Do it," she whispered as he opened his mouth. She hissed in combined pain and pleasure when he sank in his fangs and began to pull on her pulse hard . His moan, smothered against her skin, sounded almost anguished as her blood filled him and the immensity of her power and of her being hit him. He barely felt the fingers she tangled in his hair, pressing his head more tightly to her neck, her breath coming in short gasps, in ecstasy beyond sound. He drank deeply, knowing their minds had merged in an irreversible way, an unbreakable bond forged.

He could feel her body weakening in his arms, though, and he knew he'd probably already taken too much. With an effort he'd never known before, he pulled his fangs out of her throat and pushed her head into his chest. His head pounded with her power, the Spirit inside him surged almost painfully with dark energy. She kissed him softly, her eyes drowsy, quite sure that she'd fall over if he were to release her. She waited while he calmed the spirit within, which writhed still.

Would you have let me kill you? His words entered her mind with shocking clarity. When she looked up at him, his eyes positively burned with their cobalt fire.

I don't know. She could see the heat spreading throughout him, coloring his cheeks, bringing a rosy blush to his smooth lips. Filled with her blood, he looked young and human. She couldn't resist a smile and pulled his head down so that she could kiss him, loving the warmth that radiated from his skin

I almost lost it....

But you didn't. I'm not afraid of you. I can't seem to get this point across..

I do understand you. I would just like to reiterate that you are in danger when you're around me.

I can take care of myself, big boy. Remember that. She took a step back from him, and though barely able to stay on her feet, sent a wave of power rushing at him that lifted him off his feet and threw him backwards onto the bed, landing amidst the piles of pillows.

"Point taken," he said, sitting up, a slow laugh escaping his lips. She grinned at him and took a wobbly step forward, but failed at walking. He caught her almost before she'd realized she was falling and whisked her back into the mass of warm blankets and pillows. Resting his back against the headboard, he pulled her back to his chest, kissing the top of her head.

"Drink this," he murmured, bending to whisper in her ear, bringing his wrist up to his mouth. "Before you pass out."

She blinked slowly, eyes widening as he bit into his skin and lowered the streaming cut down to her lips. He released a growl of pleasure as she drank from him, her mouth locking to his skin. Her back arched and she laced her fingers with his, holding his hand as she drank from his wrist. As if sensing how much she needed to restore her strength and heal her wounds, she released him after only a moment. The blood raced through her body, and she could feel the cuts in her throat tingling as they closed and disappeared.

With a sigh of contented pleasure, she slid down with him into the pile of pillows, resting her head on his chest, simply listening to the thunder of his heart in his chest for several minutes as he rather idly played with her nipples.

"We're even now, aren't we?" Damien murmured into the near darkness.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what you're doing. I've figured that out by now."

He could feel her smile against his chest, but she said nothing.

"You can control me now as surely as I've ever had any control over you... your blood... it... there's something in you that I can't fathom..."

She sighed and sat up next to him, looking at him intently, eyes glittering with tears.

"I know what I'm doing... but not why... or how..." she whispered, fear in her voice. "What am I, Damien?"

He didn't answer her, pursing his lips.

"I'm not just a witch, am I? No matter how powerful anyone says a witch can be, it's nothing compared to what I'm holding back. I scare myself. Do you know that? I was never like this before. I never had this in me before my family died... I know I didn't..."

He took a deep breath and slowly shook his head. He reached out and touched her cheek and she could feel the Spirit inside him flow over her, searching her.

"I don't know," he said finally. "You're not human anymore, really, but I don't know what else you could be... we've speculated- there are legends, understand, but none of us really knows... some of our earliest stories are filled with talk of other worlds... demons and gods... goddesses..."

She shook her head and several tears trickled down her cheeks. With sudden fury, she was on her feet and lighting a cigarette from the pack on the bedside table. She snatched up her silk robe and slid in over her shoulders, cinching it closed as she angrily crossed the marble floor to the massive windows, her form silhouetted against the moonlight, smoke curling around her.

"I'm not a goddess..." she hissed. "How could I be a demon? You don't become a demon, do you?"

He appeared silently beside her, his cobalt eyes glowing fiercely, fangs glinting in the light.

"What do you think I am?"

"But you... that's different..." she muttered, turning away from him. "You underwent a transformation... allowed a Spirit to enter your body. It's not conscious... it doesn't possess you. You and the Spirit sustain each other. I'm not possessed, and I certainly was born human."

"Didn't you invite a Spirit within yourself too?"

She spun around to face him, mouth open to counter, but froze, eyes widening.

"I did..." she whispered slowly.

He just looked down at her, waiting, unwilling to disrupt her thoughts.

She paced a little, her breasts jiggling slightly under the black silk. He tore his eyes away as she continued.

"The night they died, when I found out. I sent out a call to whatever dark force would listen... called upon the darkness with everything I had in me... and then I passed out... when I woke up I accidentally busted a stubborn window when it wouldn't open..."

"The surges of temper, rushes of power, headaches... they started then as well, didn't they?"

She nodded, eyes still wide.

"Denarus suggested this in Council, and it looks like he's right... you were never a witch exactly. You're what we call an Elemental, which is unimaginably rare. You can't do Magic per se, your power lies in an understanding of and a connection to, conscious or not, the fundamental workings of Nature. You may not know how you can produce a blizzard with only a thought and an exertion of power, but you can, because you can manipulate natural forces... when you learned of your family's... fate... you called out on every plane of existence... our mystics in X'iang Xi were nearly killed when the wave of anger and grief hit them... do you recall getting an answer to your summons?"

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