The skin underneath, p.33
The Skin Underneath, page 33
part #1 of The Skin Underneath Series
His hand on her leg woke Lilith up, and when she looked at him, she smiled. It was nice, he had to admit. "What do you think?" She asked.
Vincent shook his head. "It's incredible. How many rooms?"
Lilith shrugged. "I don't know. I never counted."
The door opened, and an older man with salt and pepper hair and a mustache stuck his head in. He hesitated before speaking, following the progression of Vincent's hand with his eyes. "Welcome home."
"Tucker, do you have any idea how many rooms are in this house?" She asked him.
"Forty three bedrooms, 31 bathrooms, five kitchens, three dining rooms, a ballroom and an underground network that runs 22 cubic miles." He was smiling proudly, like he owned the place. "And congratulations on the defeat."
Lilith beamed at Vincent. This was his future.
The entry way Lilith led him into was roughly the size of her entire city apartment. The house was immaculate, and that hadn't surprised him. The guards were the typical men she always had with her, the mysterious ones in black suits. The foyer was decorated just as her apartment had been, rich colors and huge mahogany furniture, and devoid of anything remotely personal. Again, not a surprise.
"Tucker is instructing the guards right now that you're forbidden to leave the premises. You'll be locked in this room until you earn my trust," she said, putting down her purse on the coffee table. The room had its own bathroom, living room, and bedroom area. A mini bar. Everything he'd need.
Vincent nodded. He'd expected as much. He considered himself a POW again, but what war was there now? He took his shirt off and sat down on the bed. "So, let's start the celebration." He was afraid, angry, turned on. He wanted to be dominated, dominate, destroy her.
Lilith continued on as if she hadn't heard him. "Food will be brought up to you daily. You'll see no one but me."
"I know the drill," he said. He wondered for a split second if there were bars on the windows. "Come here," he said unzipping his pants and pushing them off.
"I'll go shopping for you," she said, eyeing his underwear.
"I can take them off, too," he offered. Lilith shook her head and took something off the desk, which was set up as if he'd actually have correspondence.
She didn't say anything, just walked over to him, and he thought for a split second that maybe she'd give in. She then hiked up her skirt, straddling him. It wasn't until she had her entire weight on him that she held up what was in her hand. The light glinted off of the knife. "I always keep one close to the bed, just in case," she said, and her voice was as soft and smooth as the silk pillow covers.
Vincent lay still as she slid the blade down his chest and licked away the blood that welled up from the wound she made. Was it sick that he was still aroused? The cut was throbbing, but he wanted her to do it again. Would she kill him now, in the privacy of her own home? It wouldn't be too bad. He couldn't stop thinking about Luna and as much as he hadn't wanted to die at Kris's hands, it didn't sound terrible then, as long as it was Lilith who held the blade. Lilith sat up, ready to make another cut. The last thing he felt before blacking out was the feeling of the blade on the base of his throat.
The Bitch. Silence.
When Vincent regained consciousness, the first thing he knew was the taste of life on his lips. The blood slid down his throat and after a few minutes he was able to grab hold of the source with his teeth and suck harder. It was a wrist.
As soon as he was able to open his eyes, the wrist was pulled away from him. It took a moment to focus, but he realized Lilith was still there. She wasn't straddling him anymore, but she was there. He wanted to rip her head off, but his limbs wouldn't work and there was a horrible throbbing pain in his neck.
"I needed you to feel the betrayal before I could let you live. Do you understand?" Vincent, with his head cloudy, just nodded the best he could, despite what felt like a gaping wound at the base of his throat. "This will be the last time I ever bring you back to life."
Vincent wanted to yell at her, call her the demon that she was, ask her where did she get off nearly killing him for some stupid mistake. She could've ripped something, lost control and killed him, and all to make a stupid fucking point? But as soon as he tried to speak, his throat burned, his whole body clenched, and nothing came out.
Lilith looked him. "Your throat was slit almost to your brain stem, but your body will heal you. You'll be able to move in a few hours, but it'll be at least a week until you can speak again. It's an interesting process to watch, really. It'll be a learning experience." She hesitated. "Don't think I do this all the time." She paused. "But, it's the reason my brother will never dare touch me again." When she was gone from his vision, his body fell into a deep coma.
When he woke up again it was dark outside, and there were strong arms under his body helping him to his feet. He was confused but managed keep from falling. A young girl with short bobbed haircut had been the one to help him up. Several other women walked past them to the bed. The girl with short hair handed him a tall wine glass filled halfway, pink film sticking to the sides.
"It's okay," she breathed quickly, "We're just changing the sheets."
It wasn't until then that Vincent realized that she was alive. Probably a slave.
"Continue your work," Lilith snapped from across the room.
Vincent lifted his arm, which seemed to take most of his energy, and brought the wine glass to his lips. He knew it was great quality because once it was down, it helped steady his head. Lilith was busy giving orders, so Vincent tried to ask the woman how she'd gotten there. There was just a deep rumble and a flash of pain. His throat was fucked. Thanks a lot, Lilith.
"Don't try to talk," the human whispered quickly.
"Don't speak to him." Lilith walked over. The other women had finished changing the sheets and were lined up facing her direction, waiting for more orders. They all looked sick, their hair a mess, and they were all tired. "All of you, out. Now."
The humans were gone surprisingly fast and with no hand steadying him, Vincent took a few steps back and practically fell back onto the bed. He lifted his hand to his throat and felt a huge scar running from ear to ear, like a smile. Fucking bitch. He should have killed her.
"How are you feeling?" Lilith asked. Like I want to kick in your face, or maybe set you on fire. There was no point even trying to speak and she didn't care about his anger. He just shook his head then wiped his face with his hands, trying to clear away the sleepiness that still clung to him. He wished he was dead. Wrong word. He wished he was gone from the earth. "Those types of wounds are slow to heal." Lilith sat next to him on the bed and Vincent put her hand on his knee, and gripped it. Hard, but he didn't have enough strength to cause any pain. "I have some place where I have to make an appearance. You have a good look, you know. You can be a good looking guy when you try to be. I'd like you to be on my arm, especially now since you can't say anything to embarrass me."
Vincent narrowed his eyes.
"Vincent, we're in it deep right now," She said. "I can't go alone, and I don't have my brother."
Vincent without thinking, asked, "Kris?" Or tried to ask, but nothing came out and pain exploded in his throat again. He decided that when he saw Kris again, he'd kick his ass. Disgusting, that's what the situation was between them. And the way they looked at each other, the time he'd walked in on them, it was all disgusting. It was wrong. But animals, they didn't care about things like that.
"No," Lilith said, interrupting his thoughts and taking her hand off of his knee. "You will not take your anger out on Kris. He's not even here. It's just you and me." She stood up and walked over to the dresser closest to the bed. "I brought you this turtleneck, Armani, and a pair of slacks. Black, of course. It's so classic." She held them up one by one. Vincent couldn't care less. She laid them out on the other side of the bed. "This is a very important social meeting between two families. It's not going to be the way you're used to seeing us. There will be no bloodshed. Remember, you're there as eye candy only. Pretend that you belong there, that you've always been a part. Be a snob. Act like me. I'll be back in an hour."
Vincent nodded. He got dressed slowly realizing that he had known all along that there was something more between Lilith and Kris than just business associates. It sickened him when he thought about all the times that he can caught Kris giving Lilith admiring glances and jealous stares. Suddenly, his greatest enemy was Kris. He was the reason for everything.
Vincent knew he needed a break, so he laid down and slept briefly, wondering whatever happened to Luna and knowing that she was safe because Lucas and the others were dead.
Defeated. Michael Masaitis, the famous painter. He's Here. Two Thumbs Up.
Luna kept bumping the back of her head against the door, one hand still on the knob, the other wading through bits of dirt and gravel from the sunflower welcome mat on the back porch. Mom was in Georgia, filling in for the director in some kind of funding meeting for the museum. Luna had known that, had hoped to get three days alone without having to explain to anyone why she was home. But she'd forgotten, it wasn't until the key was an inch from the lock that she remembered her Mom had changed the locks. Mom had lost her purse. Why hadn't she bothered to come by before then and get a new key? Mom had certainly wanted her to. She briefly wondered whether Vin had managed to follow her and she just couldn't see him in the daylight. But she knew she was alone in the garden, sitting on the welcome mat, with the knowledge that there was no place for her to go but back to her apartment in the city, where she would soon die.
Luna let the door swing open and then stood in the doorway. She wanted to throw up. It was the ringing that finally made her walk inside, and then narrow her eyes when she realized the sound was coming from her bedroom. Closing the front door but leaving her bag in the living room, Luna followed the sound into her room and under the bed, next to those ugly brown shoes that were too comfortable to be cool, and next to the green foam frog slippers. She held it in her hands, the phone vibrating along with the music. Please, please Lord. Her hands shook. She wasn't sure if it was his blood in her that made her answer, or the pressure of the incessant ringing. She thought it was the blood, felt him in there, just below the skin, and what she really wanted to do is cut it out of her somehow.
"Where have you been?" Kris's voice was steady and calm.
She was losing her mind. "I went to visit my mother," she said.
"I hope you told her goodbye."
Why did he hate her? "She wasn't there." Luna stood up and started pacing, breathing deep. He was doing it again, trying to take her over, this time just by his voice.
"Will you come tonight?" He asked.
Jesus. "No."
Kris paused. "Or I can come and get you. I thought we could visit my winter home. Would you like that?"
Her eyes were overflowing and her contacts blurred. Lord, there's been a mistake. She was the one who wanted the house, the kids, the husband who comes home right after work and whose heart was still beating. "Please," she said. "Why are you doing this?"
"Sounds like a plan. I'll be over in exactly 30 minutes to pick you up. Pack a bag, and don't worry about the rest of your things. I'll make sure they're taken care of." He hung up.
Luna didn't press the END button, just threw the phone at the wall and watched the battery cover pop off. He was going to be angry. She just stood there, and she knew her mind was getting uncomfortably close to the point of numbness. Vin. She was moving then, walking to the front door, grabbing her bag on the way out, trying to think how she could find her way back to Michael and Vin's. Lord knows it was time to come clean to him.
Luna hailed a taxi, and as it pulled to a stop in front of her, a short black limo pulled up behind it. He'd lied, he hadn't trusted her with thirty minutes. She told the taxi driver the name of the street she was going to, hoping she'd be able to see their building. She did recognize it, and asked the driver to stop, paid him and sprinted through the front door. She looked back when she was at the foot of the stairs. The black car had pulled up, and the back passenger's side door opened.
Luna took the stairs two at a time and found that the apartment door was already open and Michael Masaitis, the famous painter, was sitting on the couch as if he'd been expecting her. Luna checked the hallway. They hadn't caught up yet. She turned to Michael and didn't know what to say.
"Come in," Michael said and Luna moved forward, closing the door behind her after double checking the hallway. Empty. Kris was waiting downstairs. "He's not here, Luna." Their eyes met. "You may as well give up. Kris will find you and he'll be angry."
Luna's mouth dropped. What was he? Definitely not as nice as she'd thought. And she had nothing to say to him. Luna left, sprinting down the stairs. From the landing she could see the black car idling on the curb, the door was still open, but she couldn't see Kris anywhere. She knew she had to run, but before she could take a step, she heard her name being called. Michael was leaning over the railing and calling down to her. She stopped.
"If you want half a chance, go out through the back emergency exit under the stairs. The alarm is broken."
Thank you Lord, an angel. "Thank you," she called.
Then, not wanting to spare another second, she ran around the stairs and pushed the back door open into the alley. No sirens. Michael was a good man. The screech and the headlights briefly lighting her path told her that they'd seen her duck around the back. Where was Kris? Why hadn't he ended the game yet?
Luna gasped when she came out of the alley and recognized the building across the street instantly. It was the Walker Bakery. Harvey lived with his mother right above it. She just needed to hide until daylight, then she would have 12 hours to figure out a plan.
Luna ran across the street which had no traffic, another blessing. She caught the door behind a man in an overcoat so she didn't have to buzz up. Blessing two. Thank you Jesus. No car yet, maybe she'd lose them.
Luna didn't know what time it was when she knocked on the door, but there was no answer at the first knock, so she knocked again. She still didn't hear anything, so she knocked again. She was jumping up and down, staring down the hallway, and she heard the creak of the peephole cover being bent back.
Then the door opened a little bit, and Harvey was squinting at her. "Luna? What are you doing here?"
Luna gave him a fake smile. "Hey Harvey," she said, trying to sound as if she had just come by for a casual visit. She tried not to look behind her, but it didn't work.
"What time is it?" He asked, looking back at some clock in his apartment. Then he turned back, and he saw the look on her face. "Are you okay?" He looked down the hallway probably because she's done it compulsively several times since he'd opened the door.
"Can I come in?" She asked. He really had been sleeping. He was wearing a faded old Nintendo t-shirt and plaid green and yellow boxers.
"Sure." Harvey stepped aside to let her in, and Luna did her best to walk lightly. She didn't want to make his mother mad. Harvey looked down his own hallway and since no lights were on, he took her upper arm and led her to his room, closing the door behind him. He snapped on a desk lamp. "What's the matter?" Luna just shook her head, and she knew she would start sobbing any moment. "It's that guy, the one with the black hair. Vincent, right?"
Luna paused and looked at him. "How do you know that?"
Harvey shrugged, then stretched and yawned. "We had a talk. He told me about the two of you."
Luna felt awkward and had a seat on his bed. It was still warm, and there was a comic book upside down between the sheets. She shook her head. "I'm sorry I lied to you. I was just so scared, and I can't find him, I'm so worried."
Harvey remained standing. "Why are you here?"
"I need a place to stay." The word was more like, hide, but she didn't want to alarm him too much. He looked a little hesitant, so she continued. This time she was truthful and let a few tears escape. "Just one night." He looked at his hands and still didn't say anything. "Look Harvey, I'm sorry. I know I've been a jerk, but I really need your help. I'm in over my head, and there are people after me and I'm so scared. I don't have anywhere else to go. One night and I'll never ask you for anything again." She was begging now, maybe she should go all the way and just get on her knees. She couldn't go back out into the cold night again, and his room felt so warm and safe.
"Luna," he said looking into her eyes, "It's not that. We've been friends for a long time, so I want you to know that I'm not telling you this out of jealousy. But that guy is dangerous. You have to stop seeing him."
Luna almost laughed out loud at this. Was Vin dangerous? Kris was the one she had to worry about. She nodded. "Okay, Harvey. You're right."
"You're a bad liar. But you can have the bed," he said, crossing his arms. "I'll take the floor."
Unable to suppress the joy of a little protection for the night, Luna ran over and threw her arms around Harvey's neck. She held onto him for too long, she knew, but he was so warm, and he was her savior, always had been. "Thank you, Harvey. I really appreciate this." Harvey was slow to pull away, and he looked away and sat down on the floor. Luna settled down on the bed and with eyes wide open, was reminded of Vin when Harvey snapped off the light and immediately started snoring. What did Vin do when he wasn't with her? She didn't know whether she should be concerned about his safety, too.
She was just starting to doze off when there was a knocking at the door. Harvey didn't move, and before Luna could react, the door opened a crack and his mother's head was in the hallway.
"Harvey," his mother said in a normal tone of voice but it sounded like she was yelling in the silent apartment. Luna was in the fetal position with the blanket pulled up over her head, praying that his mother wouldn't flick the light on.
