Come Closer

Note From the Author: This is part one of a substantially longer piece. I'm submitting this as a test to see whether or not people are interested. A lot of background happens in this piece of the novella, but I think you all might find it...intriguing, if nothing else.

Hugs and Kisses.

XXMarked

----------------------------------------------------

Jordan flicked her lighter and lit the candles on the altar, the flame from the Zippo illuminating her brilliant green eyes before the warm glow of red wax took over. Pocketing the lighter, she rubbed her hands together and paced slowly around the altar, looking around her like she was waiting for the inevitable. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her open knee-length black leather trench coat, the heels of her boots making a defined click against the stone. It was cold in the abandoned church. The moon spilled in through the broken stained glass windows. Her breath clouded in front of her in frosty white puffs.

No one in their right mind would be out in the middle of nowhere with six inches of snow on the ground and not a soul in sight. Then again, not everyone had the problems that Jordan had. For weeks—months—she had been plagued with dreams... Not nightmares of a proper sort. Not wish fulfillment dreams...at least not the kind of wishes she was conscious of. Instead, there was always a man, if he could be called such, calling to her, begging her to come closer, as if the distance between them was killing him. His face was wracked with pain, his eyes almost burning through her as he reached out for her. It made her skin crawl to even think about it. Then there were the other dreams... The same man, but not in pain, not practically screaming in agony...he was different, and felt very very real as he took her in his arms and...

Jordan jumped as snow fell from a tree just outside the abandoned church. Pressing a hand to her lace-clad abdomen, she exhaled hard and shook her head, catching a shadow out of the corner of her eye. She spun around and saw nothing behind her. "Calm the fuck down, already," she whispered to herself as she ran her fingers through her long black hair.

His name whispered over and over inside of her head as she stood there. It was there constantly—morning and night, whether she slept or woke. Cardineum. Only a few weeks after the dreams started, she had done research. The man of her dreams wasn't a man at all, but something entirely different. Not angel, not demon, not mortal; he existed beyond such categories. The books she had read to find anything out, even the smallest mention... heavy, ancient volumes with crisp vellum pages. His story was tragic and she had to brace herself against it whenever she found herself thinking of him. Every 500 years he came to Earth, taking on a new form, a new name, a new voice, always searching for the same thing: the other half of his heart. He had been doing it for age upon age upon age, and still he hadn't found what he most desired. That such a creature should be tethered to mortal women seemed almost unfair to Jordan, but how often was fate really concerned about fairness?

She twisted a piece of her gently curled hair around her finger as she hugged herself with one arm, feeling her flesh growing colder as the minutes ticked by. At first she had thought she was going insane, that she was going to be committed within days. She did her best to keep it to herself, only asking questions of the right sources at discrete moments. Even as she studied, she felt haunted, watched... Picturing those sad, pleading eyes made tears well up inside her. Now, it was time to bring the dreams to an end.

Jordan heard the crunch of snow in the aisle and felt her blood run cold at the same time. Her pulse pounded faster and faster until it hurt to breathe. Staying very still, she looked around like she hadn't heard anything.

"Hello, Jordan." His voice was like blackness, rolling over her, swallowing her. So persuasive, almost musical... She forced herself to breathe.

Turning around, she felt her heart drop straight from her throat to the bottom of her stomach. He was everything she had seen in her dreams—every last detail of him was perfect. She tried to hide her obvious shock and smiled. "Hello... How do you know my name?"

"I know everything about you. Every last detail." He didn't offer any more.

"Oh?"

Jordan watched as he stopped a step below her on the altar. He was a large man. Power emanated from his body even though he merely stood there. His clothes were fine; the large black wool overcoat that hugged his frame obviously kept out the cold that Jordan was feeling so intensely. His skin was the color of pale coffee. The moonlight caught his black hair, making it shimmer blue as he ran his fingers through it. The silver of his eyes seemed to reflect the moonbeams. His eyes made her feel like she was falling, when in reality she was quite still.

"You feel the need to stare, Jordan? I know you're already familiar with me..." He took half a step towards her.

Jordan jumped back and took a breath for the first time in minutes. "Am I?"

"Don't play coy, Jordan... we both know why I'm here... I've waited ages for you."

"Ages? I think that's a bit extreme..." Jordan felt her hips bump against the stone surface of the altar. Her heart sank lower in her body as she realized she was trapped.

"You're so afraid. Why do you fear me?" His voice shivered over her skin as he took a few steps towards her, his hands held out in an act of innocence.

"Who said I was afraid?" Jordan feigned haughtiness as her nails bit into the stone edge.

"You're shaking."

Suddenly he was very close to her, almost too close. She could feel the heat radiating from his body even in the cold of the church. She licked her lips nervously and pressed herself more extremely to the altar's unyielding barrier. The almost too-serious cast of his face suddenly broke into pieces and he smiled, laughing under his breath.

"What's so funny?" Jordan felt almost insulted by his laughing.

"You, you're what's funny. Do you think that altar is going to suddenly bend under your will and let you escape and keep me away? Hell itself couldn't keep me from you now that I know where you are. I couldn't go another lifetime without you, Jordan." He reached up and stroked a glossy curl as he whispered against the shell of her ear.

"I fail to see the humor. I don't even know you." Jordan felt a tightness building in her chest that wasn't entirely uncomfortable, but it made her ache.

"You know me... you just won't admit to how well you know me." He ghosted a kiss against her earlobe as he kept her pinned against the altar, his hands slipping down to caress the lace of her dress against her hips.

She didn't want to admit how tantalizingly familiar his touch felt; how the smell of his skin made her whole body flush with comfort and relief; how the touch of his lips made her heart pound like it would burst. "I don't even know your name... well, not the name you're using right now at least." Jordan forced these words out even though it felt like she couldn't breathe.

"You know my true name, which is more important than any assumed alias, but if it makes you feel better, call me Damien." He touched gently under her chin and made her look at him, his hand warm and gentle against her face.

His eyes held hers captive—she couldn't have looked away if she wanted to. Her pulse pounded hard in the side of her neck as she failed to notice his lips getting closer to her own. Time itself seemed to stop the minute his mouth crushed against hers and every act of resistance she felt she was capable of dissolved. The kiss was painfully tender, filled with longing she didn't have words for.

His hands tightened against her hips, pulling her more insistently to his body. At some point he had opened his coat and now there was nothing keeping her from feeling the hard lines of his body and the heat of his skin through his finely made clothes. The silk of his shirt brushing against the lace of her dress sent shivers through her as she felt heat building low in her body. His presence seemed to swallow her, engulf her, drag her towards some dark edge and threatened to push her over. She found her hands wandering over his chest as he lifted her without a thought and sat her on the edge of the altar; one of her legs came to wrap around his waist. She felt something like longing pulsing through her body as she broke the kiss and looked up at him.

"You're going to torment me, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice hoarse as he tightened his grip on her even more, almost as if he was afraid she'd disappear in front of him.

"Can't have everything you want all at once, it ruins it." She watched the way the light of the candles behind her flickered over his face, casting shadows and illuminating his brilliant eyes.

"You are all I want..." His voice dropped to a growl as he kissed her again, almost violently, his body crushing wantonly to hers.

Jordan felt her whole body respond the minute he took her in his arms like he had done a million times in her dreams, the press of his hips a dangerous temptation as she felt her arousal growing stronger. Bracing herself against the altar, she kissed him more greedily, with less hesitation, giving in to her need.

Her hand knocked against the base of a candle. The thud of metal hitting stone was the only sound she heard before a searing pain shot through her arm.

Sitting up suddenly, Jordan opened her eyes wide and looked around. She was back in her room; the pale sunlight of a snowy morning filtered in through her heavy purple curtains. Gasping for breath, she ran her fingers through her hair and swallowed hard, noticing a bright red burn on her left arm.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Jordan, earth paging Jordan."

Jordan snapped awake and looked over at Alyssa who sat in front of her with a pretzel stick between her lips. "What?"

"Have you listened to a thing I've said?" Her friend sounded exasperated.

"No... I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well last night."

"Just like the night before, and the night before that. What's up with you?"

"I don't know... did I tell you I was going anywhere last night, Lyssa?" Jordan absently tapped her pen against her notebook and worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

"No, it was a Thursday; you had no reason to be out... unless you're turning into a member of the tart parade." Lyssa went quiet as a bunch of sorority girls walked past. "And if you are we need to have an intervention."

Jordan gave Alyssa the finger and reached across the table to grab a textbook she needed.

"Holy fuck, what did you do?" Alyssa ripped Jordan's sleeve up her arm and exposed the bright red burn that had blistered since early morning when she had woken up.

"I don't know, I woke up with it... Had a dream I was burnt by a candle, maybe that's why?" Jordan motioned distractedly towards her arm and rubbed her hand over her face.

"I told you to stop sleeping with your hair straightener in your bed... can only lead to trouble." Alyssa smiled and laughed, pushing a piece of her choppy blonde bangs out of her face.

"Right, I forgot... I really couldn't help it; the poor thing looked so alone since my hair dryer died." Jordan reached across the table and scribbled on Alyssa's notes.

"You bitch! Anyway, what I was saying before you decided to nap with your eyes open, Xavier won a happy hour at The Underground tonight... I know you don't much care for him, but it's free drinks?"

"Is this your attempt to make me leave my room in the middle of winter so I can have beer spilled on me and have really ugly men in their forties come up and talk to me and act like we have anything in common?"

"Well... I hadn't really thought of it that way, but you need to go out. Who knows, maybe that dream guy you keep talking about will show up."

"What dream guy?" Jordan felt her heart stop in her chest as she sat up suddenly.

"The one you've drawn half a million times during class. I'm not dense, Jord..."

"I know you aren't, Lyssa... and let's hope he isn't there, I'm not exactly in any condition to be swept off my feet." Jordan managed to smile at Alyssa even though she felt a trickle of dread run along her spine.

"So why do you go to these things that Xavier has, anyway? You aren't trying to get with him are you?" Jordan called out of the bathroom, the door cracked to allow communication.

"I dunno, he's not half bad... better than most of the guys in the theatre department. At least he isn't gay like most of the guys here." Alyssa smoothed her hands over her pixie-cut hair and adjusted a few bobbypins so they were positioned correctly.

"Are you certain about the gay part? They can be awfully good at hiding it." Jordan laughed as she heard Alyssa scoff in the other room.

Glancing at herself in the mirror, Jordan jumped as she swore she saw Damien for half a second, his strong body resting against the wall. She turned around quickly and saw the wall was blank tile. "Get a grip..." She muttered as she turned back towards the mirror and applied her mascara.

She wiped under her eyes with her fingers and capped the tube before turning the water on in the sink to wash the makeup off her hands. Glancing down at the burn on her arm in consequence, Jordan gasped aloud and bumped her head against the shelf above the sink.

"Jord? You ok?" Alyssa walked near the door but didn't look in. One of their codes.

"Y-yeah, I'm ok... just pinched my eyelid with an eyelash curler."

"Ooooh, that's a bitch. Better than poking yourself in the eye with a mascara wand though." Alyssa wandered away again to contemplate herself in her full-length mirror.

The burn, which was all blisters and ugliness half an hour prior, had started to change. Rather than a splotchy mass of red, the painfully scorched flesh had started to curve into something that looked like words on her arm, but not words in any language she knew. Jordan cursed to herself and bit on her bottom lip. "Damien, this isn't funny... if you're even real." She began to carefully build a light foundation of make up over the burn to minimize its appearance. She could practically hear his laugh ringing in her ears and feel it rolling over her.

Throwing her makeup back into her bag, she walked out of the bathroom and threw her hands in the air. "What's wrong?" Alyssa turned and glanced at Jordan with an approving nod.

"Oh, you know, just suffering audio and visual hallucinations again... really need to lay off the shrooms, but you know how it is." Jordan sat down on the end of Alyssa's bed and pulled on her thigh-high black leather boots.

"Ah! The bitch boots make a return... you really must be in a crummy mood, or you really are turning into a tart." Alyssa laughed and turned to face Jordan. "So what do you think? Do I need a push up bra?" Alyssa pushed her breasts together and then let them go.

"If you wear a pushup bra, your tits will smother you." Jordan laced up the side of her left boot as she watched Alyssa spin in front of the mirror.

"Bitch... not all of us can be blessed with the perfect handful-sized breasts that you got. Some of us have more." Alyssa pretended to pout, but her lips soon turned up in a laughing smile.

"Well, as a matter of course, I love your tits. Feel better?" Jordan smiled up at Alyssa and pulled at the hem of the gray jersey-knit dress that sloped off the right shoulder that she was wearing while she fidgeted in front of her.

"Yes." Alyssa smiled as she adjusted the cowl-neck of the dress so it exposed the valley of her cleavage to anyone who looked. She hooked a silver chain around her neck and moved away from the mirror. "Alright, let's see how Miss Bitch looks...meant in an affectionate way, of course."

Jordan stuck her tongue out at Alyssa and stood up as she finished lacing her right boot and stepped in front of the mirror. She looked a dark contrast to her bright, flirty friend. Her black hair was curled into long ringlets and pinned at the top of her head, a few stray curls falling down to brush against her neck and shoulders. The minimal, but dramatic, makeup she wore made her green eyes almost painful to look at because the color was so intense. Her pale skin stood out against the black gossamer fabric of her halter top. The sweetheart-neckline of the halter top showed off the mouth-watering roundness of her breasts. Jordan paused in looking at herself in the mirror and looked away. That thought wasn't hers. "Damien..." She thought to herself and heard that same rolling laugh from earlier ringing in her ears.

Turning her attention back to the mirror, Jordan pulled at the bottom of her halter top so it laid flat against the skin-tight black skirt that left enough to the imagination to be considered tasteful. Her legs were clad in herringbone-knit tights that let the bright whiteness of her skin stand out even more. The black leather of her bitch boots, as Lyssa called them, shone in the failing light of the room.

"It's a damn shame the two of us aren't lesbians... I'd do you in a heartbeat and forget about Xavier..."

"You never know, he might be so small in that department you might consider it." Jordan smirked as she brushed past Alyssa and brushed a kiss against the corner of her mouth.

"Well, if I do, you'll be the first person I call and beg to shag." Alyssa laughed and applied lipgloss to her full lips.

"Come on, my non-lesbian lesbian lover." Jordan slipped her metal bangles on her arms, fighting not to wince when she pushed them onto her left arm. She picked up her black leather knee-length coat and shrugged it on.

Jordan dropped her coat onto a chair behind the couch that Xavier had claimed for his own. She watched his head bob to the music as the waitress returned with another tray full of drinks. Shaking her head, she wandered a small distance off and leaned against the wall, ordering a beer when the waitress passed. The lighting on the floor below changed as another song came on and the mass of bodies began to writhe in an entirely new way. She never knew why she allowed Alyssa to talk to her into these things, but at least she would have inspiration for any horror pieces she needed to draw for the rest of her life after the past four years.

Taking her beer from the waitress with a smile, Jordan pushed herself off the wall and began to wander around the little balcony area, glancing over every now and then towards Alyssa and Xavier. Alyssa was animated. Xavier was on his way to being drunk and the happy hour had only started ten minutes earlier. Frowning to herself, Jordan took a swallow of her beer and began to walk towards Alyssa when she saw a man she didn't recognize as one of Xavier's friends walking up the stairs towards where Alyssa was standing, his large frame and black hair bringing to mind images of Damien that Jordan immediately quashed. Jordan almost dropped her beer in her staring as she took a few more steps forward. Watching the person pass by Alyssa without comment and without looking back, Jordan relaxed a little and exhaled hard.

She leaned against the railing of the balcony and looked down at the people dancing below her. A breeze brushed against her cheek as someone walked up next to her and she inhaled the smell of wild rain. Holding her beer out to the side, she heard Alyssa sigh in her pouting manner and take a swig of the beer. "Let me guess, he said he'll be fucked if he feels like dancing?" She glanced over at her friend and smiled a sympathetic smile.

"As usual... he's too busy getting wasted." Alyssa handed Jordan her beer and leaned against the railing with her hip.

"You know how he is... Too cheap to buy his own drinks, but when they're on the house he's going to drink as much as he can in the shortest amount of time possible."