Page 55 of Eternal Devotion

“No.” A pull I couldn’t fight surfaced, an untethered yearning to crawl under his skin and burrow into his heart. Become part of him.

“I should not have allowed this.”

“Why?”

“Because it can only end badly.”

Was he talking about his uncle or us? I didn’t know anymore and was afraid to ask.

He kissed me, and my mind shattered into a million pieces. The fog that had lain so ominously over the Sydenham only moments ago filled my brain, erasing all thoughts and cares. Something was wrong with me. My skin felt too loose. My mind felt too sloppy. But subconsciously I understood that with Mordecai’s mouth on mine, the taste of him on my tongue, and his cool hands cradling my cheeks ever so gently, I had nothing to fear.

13

Mordecai

“I’ve made a mistake.”

I stood in the heart of Greenwood Cemetery among marble headstones with brain-rotting technology pressed to my ear. Cell phones were ghastly things.

A stretch of roiling clouds filled the night sky, thick and oily, blocking the moon and darkening the landscape. Every now and then lightning flashed, painting the world with strokes of artificial daylight. A light drizzle left the monuments with an unfitting polished glimmer.

It was after midnight.

I was alone.

“What do you mean?” my best friend cooed.

Disclosing my failures, especially to Cristofer, left a rotten taste in my mouth, but he was the only one who would understand. He was the only one who truly knew me.

“I wrongfully enlisted the help of a human, but… I’ve said too much about my mission. He’s… determined to be involved.”

“I’m sorry. How is this an issue? Duckie, have you forgotten how to manipulate the mortals?” Cristofer chuckled. “Honestly, Mordecai. You don’t get out enough. Learn to spread your wings. Play with the mice you catch. It’s easy. It’s fun. Mortals are feeble-minded. Spongy brains. Easily toyed with. Are you depleted? Is that it? You haven’t been gone that long.”

“I’m not, and I know my options, but… I…”

The extended pause, where I failed to explain, caught Cristofer’s attention. I didn’t have to see his wicked grin to know it was there, creasing his eyes and flashing his teeth.

“Oh my. There’s a but. Do tell.”

“There’s nothing to tell. It was stupid. A moment of weakness.”

“A moment of weakness? You? Oh, dear brother. I’ve known you for over three hundred years, and I’ve never known you to experience moments of weakness. You’re so stuck in your ways, it honestly shocks me when you submit to your primal needs. Tell me, duck. Have you been playing with your food?”

“You know I haven’t. I’m not you.”

Another laugh. “I dare say not. You’re the only one of our kind who doesn’t seem to enjoy the rush of a feed. Strictly a lover then? So, who is he?”

I said nothing, unable to conjure a retort or rebuttal, unwilling to reduce Ensley to a mere triviality. I’d called Cristofer for a reason. He was a friend and confidant, one of the few I had. He’d taken human lovers over the years. He’d turned a few, only for them to lose interest once they were no longer mortal.

“He’s…” But I couldn’t find the right adjective to describe Ensley without earning ridicule.

“Go on.”

“You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“He’s… honest. Down-to-earth. Funny. Pure. Innocent.”