Flicker (10 page)

              Robert cleared his throat loudly. “Elise, pass me the pork chops, please.” He said, transparently uncomfortable as he changed the subject. Distracted, she passed him the steaming dish without thinking, suppressing a wince as it burned her hands. She buried them in her lap discreetly, pretending to rearrange her napkin, but as she glanced up she saw Alex looking at her with a slight frown in his eyes. She shook her head at him, just the barest movement. Of course he'd noticed her grimace-- he didn't miss a thing.

              “Do you play any sports, Alex?” Robert asked as he forked pork chops onto his plate. Alex looked away from Elise to answer, and she took the opportunity to hold her glass of ice water in both hands.

              “I played rugby at my last school,” he answered, his voice lightly casual, completely devoid of any hint that he'd just told them about his mother's demise. Elise wondered how long ago the woman had passed, that he could speak on the subject so dispassionately. “But Willowdale doesn't have a team, so I'm taking art classes instead. That way I get to keep all my limbs intact-- or at least, that's the plan.”

              Robert chuckled, and Elise could tell her father was succumbing to Alex's charm, too, in spite of himself. Once again, she was relieved that her friend's charisma didn't solely affect her.

              “More potatoes?” Marie asked, offering Alex the bowl. As he thanked her, she continued. “So, what are your plans for the future? Are you looking at colleges?”

              Elise threw up her hands. “Can you guys let the poor boy eat in peace, please?” She cried. Alex laughed, completely at ease despite his friend's mortification.

              “They're just doing what parents do,” he chuckled to Elise before turning to answer Marie's question. “I'm looking into a few schools that specialize in architectural engineering degrees. It's actually one of the reasons I elected to come live with my uncle this year-- coming up to the east coast allows me to check out schools like Penn State and Drexel, which boast some of the top programs in the country.” By the time he finished speaking, Marie's eyes were wide and Robert's eyebrows were nearing his hairline.

              “Well, young man, it certainly seems like you have your head on straight!” Marie exclaimed.

              “I do try, ma'am,” he said modestly, then turned to Elise, who was trying with moderate success to hide her amusement at her parents' sudden change of heart. “Elise, we didn't really talk much about college, actually-- what are your plans?”

              Caught off guard, Elise quickly swallowed the bite of potatoes she'd just taken, trying not to choke as she shot Alex a glare, reasonably certain he'd done that on purpose. “I'm actually planning to study archeology at Oxford next year. I'll be putting my application in as soon as I get my SAT scores back, and I'm in the process of getting my passport and student visa. So that should be exciting.”

              “Oxford, really? Wow,” he grinned at her. “That's quite a long way from home.”

              She shrugged. “We've only lived here for a few years, so it's not like I'm overly attached. Besides, I want to learn about archeology in a place that actually has history. In this country, we go back about 400 years and everything before that, we murdered with cholera.”

              Alex laughed outright. “Yeah, I can see your point. There is a certain 'rootless' feeling to living here. I’ve seen a lot of the world, traveling with my dad and all, and so many of the other, older cultures really are amazing. I think you’ll love England.”

              Marie cleared her throat. “Elise, why don't you help me clear the table and get ready for dessert. Alex, you eat blueberry pie, don't you?” She stood and started to gather dishes; with an apologetic glance at Alex, Elise joined her.

              “My favorite,” Alex smiled at Marie as he leaned back to allow her to take his plate. She simpered, and Elise couldn’t help rolling her eyes once more as she led the way back into the kitchen.

              Her mother, as it turned out, didn't need any help with the pie. As Elise rinsed the dishes and stacked them by the sink, she heard her father's voice through the doorway to the dining room.

              “So, young man, I'll be upfront with you. What are your intentions toward my daughter?”

Elise dropped a plate onto the pile with unnecessary force, turning on her heel to storm back into the room and inform her father that it was no longer the eighteenth century, but her mother caught her eye. Marie shook her head warningly and pressed a finger to her lips, her expression fierce. Elise's lip curled with disdain, and she spun back to the dishes; the only thing preventing her from smashing the rest of them was her need to hear every word said in the other room.

              Despite her desperate attention, she still almost missed Alex's quiet response. “Mr. Whitfield, Elise and I are just friends. At this point, she hasn't indicated a desire to be anything else, so regardless of any romantic inclinations I may or may not have toward her, that's all we'll remain unless she tells me otherwise.”

              She could all but picture her father leaning menacingly toward Alex as she heard him growl in return. “Look, boy, don't give me that 'may or may not' crap. I like what I've seen of you so far, but that won't stop me from kicking your ass if you try to play with my daughter.” Elise actually turned off the water and stood still so she could hear every word. She was aware that a few feet away, her mother was standing motionless over the pie, a knife in her hand but her attention clearly fixed just as intently as her daughter's on the conversation taking place in the dining room. “Now, understand this. Elise has been through a lot-- there's a reason we moved away from our last home-- and she's fragile. Right now, she's got her goals and priorities in order, and I'll be damned if I let some snot-nosed high school kid screw that up for her. And while we're on the subject, if she decides she wants to tell you why we moved, I'm warning you now, you keep that information to yourself. One word out of you, and I'll put my foot up your ass before you can say 'assaulting a minor,' got it?”

              There was no appropriate response to this except, “Yes, sir,” and Alex said it somberly.

              “I'm going to kill him,” Elise ground out through clenched teeth.

              “He's only trying to protect you,” Alex said in a patient tone of infinite fairness as they walked out of the school the next afternoon. Elise snorted.

              “You think that makes it better?” She demanded, shading her eyes with her hand so she could look up at him. “I tried telling myself that like it would make me feel less objectified, but it didn’t help. And no one agrees with me-- they all think I ought to be grateful to him for looking out for my best interests. But I'm not comfortable with him talking about me like I'm a possession, with him completely disregarding what I want and what I think is good for me.” She kicked viciously at a pine cone that was in their path, sending it skittering across the sidewalk.

              “Not to mention,” she continued with growing ire. “That he can't separate in his brain what's actually best for me from how angry he would be if anything were to happen to me. It's the most selfish reasoning in the world, because he doesn't actually give a damn if his actions make me feel worse, as long as they make him feel better-- and everyone else just goes along with it.” Elise took several deep breaths, trying to stay calm, and realized Alex had stopped walking and was staring at her as if he'd never quite seen anything like her before.

              “Elise, how old are you?” He asked.

              “I'm seventeen; you know that,” she tried not to snap, frowning at him.

              “Sorry,” he shook his head. “You don't always talk like it, and sometimes I have to remind myself.”

              She studied him hard for a few moments. “You were testing me, weren't you? Talking about my dad like that-- you wanted to see what I'd say.” Her voice was soft; she hadn't quite decided yet how to feel about his actions.

              He sighed. “I'm used to being around people a lot younger than I am; sometimes I fall into old habits. I apologize for insulting you.”

              She chuckled humorlessly. “It's not exactly an insult that you expected me to act my age. Though I have to say, the manipulation is getting old.”

              “One of these days, I'll get the hang of just having a simple conversation,” he said dryly.

              Elise rolled her eyes. “Don't change on my account,” she said as she began to walk again. “This is part of your charm.”

              “So, what do you want to do this afternoon?” He asked, tactfully changing the subject as he kept pace beside her.

              “Try to take over the world,” she muttered under her breath. As he laughed, she tossed her hair and continued in a normal tone. “Really, though, as long as it has nothing to do with my parents, I'm open to suggestions.”

              They ended up walking to get ice cream at an old-fashioned shop in the main part of town. As she ate her mint chocolate chip cone, Elise tried to keep to mundane topics, but in truth she was desperate to push him for information. It had been two days since she’d walked into the mayhem in his lunch period, and somehow, amazingly, he’d been correct when he said that people wouldn’t mention it. She’d expected the borderline riot/orgy to be all over the school-- she had witnessed firsthand how fast gossip traveled-- but since it happened, she hadn’t encountered so much as a whisper. That, almost as much as her own unaccountable behavior, had her stomach twisting with nerves and her mind burning for an explanation. She’d promised him a few days, though, and so had resolved not to push him until tomorrow. Meanwhile, in the interest of keeping her sanity, she’d assigned herself the difficult task of keeping Wednesday’s events pushed to the back of her mind.

              That confusing event did a good job of trivializing every other concern she had, but a small part of Elise's consciousness was still taken up by analyzing where her relationship with Alex was going. Underneath her fury at her father's interference, she couldn't help but be intrigued by Alex's response to his question. Romantic intentions he may or may not have toward her? She wished she could have seen his face when he'd said that, because so often his body language conveyed much more than his cryptic words. Was he just asserting himself against her dad, or might he actually want to be with her? And if he did, what did he expect of her? That thought was troublesome, but just now, Elise wasn't too concerned about her ability to keep her wits about her-- if she wanted to.

              One benefit to the tumultuous events of the past few days was that, now absolutely certain of their ease of conversation, Elise had no real worries about spending the entire day with Alex. The nervousness that had, at first, plagued her in his presence had all but faded, and she felt relatively confident in her ability to stand up to him if he turned out to have lied about his honorable intentions. All in all, she was actually looking forward to tomorrow.

4 REVELATIONS

              “Truth or dare?” Alex asked, sounding amused and a little patronizing.

              Elise snorted, leaning back in the soft armchair in his living room and studying him. He had a mischievous glint in his eye that she wasn’t sure she was ready for. “Truth,” she said, picking the traditionally safer route.

              “Are you a virgin, Elise?” His voice was light with an undertone of innuendo. She glared at him-- with his love of teasing her, she ought to have known that he’d jump right into the deep end. He looked closely at her for a moment, and his eyes widened. “You aren’t, are you?” She forced herself not to look away from the judgment in his eyes, instead crossing her arms and snapping at him.

              “It’s rare that anyone makes it to senior year without at least trying it once. How is this surprising to you? Anyway, why are you so interested all of a sudden?” Elise glared at him, but decided she'd rather try to lighten the mood. “If you're checking whether I'm suitable for marriage, I can assure you, my dowry is not all that impressive.”

              “Oh, nothing so old fashioned,” he said, chuckling. “I'm just surprised, given how much you hate to be touched. So, you aren’t a virgin?” He persisted, light and joking but with a definite implication under his playful tone that raised her hackles.

              “No, as a matter of fact, I am not. What of it?” She demanded, her eyes narrowing as she slowly lost patience with whatever game he was playing.

              “Nothing, nothing at all,” he said innocently. “It’s your turn.”

              “Fine,” she replied, fighting the urge to get mad at him. “Truth or dare?”

              “Truth,” he responded languidly. Elise sighed a little, amused that he seemed unconsciously set on undermining her―she was always better at coming up with dares.

              “Okay, so are you a virgin?”

              “Of course not,” he responded immediately, shrugging as though there was nothing to it. Her expression turned to outrage as she sat up rigidly.

              “Then where do you get off judging me?” She squeaked.

              Instead of answering her question, he replied, “Truth or dare?” Still glaring at him, she responded sullenly.

              “Truth.”

              Alex’s question was immediate: “So they say you always remember your first―who was yours?” Elise paled and swallowed, pressing her lips into a thin line. She supposed she ought to have seen that coming.

              “That, I’m afraid I can’t say.”

              “Can’t, or won’t?” He asked, looking genuinely curious.

              “Won’t, then, but it doesn’t matter―pick another question.” She took a deep breath, controlling her sudden panic as she realized he might be inclined to push the issue. She pushed away a recollection of the first day of school, when his cold eyes, his whispered threats, and his iron grasp on her wrist had frightened her so badly.

              Alex was watching her through slightly narrowed eyes, frowning the way he did when he was trying to figure out what she was thinking. For just a moment, she thought she saw something else flit across his face-- some twisted mix of agony and rage-- but it was gone before she could blink. “Why does this scare you so badly?” He swung his legs off the couch and got to his feet slowly; without thinking, Elise shrank back in her chair. A bitter smirk curved his lips. “You can leave if you want, you know. I won't stop you.”

              She nodded, but didn't move as he stalked toward her. Alex had never hurt her, she reminded herself firmly. He liked to flirt, to play games-- and there was definitely the part of her that liked those games, too-- but he had always stopped when she pushed him away. He wasn't going to hurt her. Even if his uncle was gone for the day, leaving them alone in his house with nothing and no one to interrupt them, Alex wouldn't hurt her. Maybe if she reminded herself of it enough times, she'd start to believe it.

              He leaned over her, gripping the arms of the chair and effectively boxing her in. Ignoring the way her heart skipped nervously as she felt his warm breath on her cheek, she raised her eyebrows quizzically. “Can I help you?” She chirped pleasantly.

              She tensed, barely stopping herself from jumping as he brushed his lips gently against her ear, but she knew he had felt her twitch. She couldn't help swallowing hard as she heard him chuckle. He angled his head so he could meet her gaze. “You aren't running,” he whispered, his stormy blue eyes boring into hers. Mutely, she shook her head. She wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but she refused to be scared away-- not when she'd decided that she was going to move on with her life.

              Abruptly, he let go of the chair and grabbed her hands, and she did jump, gasping. The grin he wore bore a striking resemblance to a photo she'd once seen of a wolf hunting; all of a sudden, her palms were slick with sweat and her heart was pounding. He gently pulled her forward, sliding her off the chair until she knelt on the floor with him, and as she didn't even try to fight his grip, she began to understand just how much trust she actually had in him.

              "Now what?" She whispered, somehow certain that any sound louder would shatter the fragile, intimate moment.

              His smile had that chilly edge of sadism that sent a shudder up her spine. "You look so lovely when you're afraid."

              Elise raised her chin, refusing to let herself be intimidated. "Thank you, I suppose?" She replied with deceptive calm, as if she wasn't acutely aware that she could have fought tooth and nail and he could still have brought her to this same position.

              "So," he drawled, sliding his hands slowly up her arms. "Since you seem determined not to answer that question, I suppose I'll just ask another. After all, I would hate for that to stop us playing."

              "Darn, there goes my master plan," Elise murmured under her breath, eliciting from him a quick but genuine smile.

              He kept tracing his hands over her arms and shoulders, drawing her closer, making her shiver as his fingertips brushed lightly across the bared skin of her throat. After she'd determinedly avoided any physical contact for so long, this little bit was electric. “Do you like this?” He whispered, his fingers sliding into the hair at the back of her neck and gripping tight.

              “Yes,” she gasped without thinking. Her eyes widened in shock as he sat back, resting a hand casually on her bent knee while he laughed. “You... you... hey!” She cried, unable to articulate the amusement, fear, and other things he'd sent to war within her. He laughed.

              “Your turn, sweetheart,” he grinned. “And I pick truth.”

              “You are set on thwarting me, aren't you?” She demanded irritably, her hands shaking slightly as a little of her nervousness slipped through. She swallowed it back, trying to stay calm.

              “Thwarting?” Alex repeated, suppressing a smile. “Are we in a comic book? And how so?”

              “I'm terrible at coming up with questions,” Elise pouted. “And even when I have about a hundred of them, the minute I have to actually ask I can't think of a single one.”

              “Aww, poor girl,” he said, mockingly sympathetic. She stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed at her again. “Well, you'd better come up with something, or I may decide to play a different game.”

              His statement was made innocently, but Elise's mouth was suddenly dry. It took her two tries to snap at him, “You are enjoying yourself way too much right now.”

              Alex smiled serenely. “Nonsense. I have a beautiful girl at my mercy,” he tightened his grasp on her leg, emphasizing his point. “And I've been a perfect gentleman: I don't think I'm enjoying myself nearly enough. I ought to be sucking the life out of you right now, but no, here I am acting like a monk.” He released her, folding his hands as if in prayer.

              “Sucking the life out of me?” Elise repeated, giving in to a little of her irritation to mask how suddenly bereft she felt without him touching her. “What, are you a vampire now?”

              He blinked at her. “Well, that wasn't entirely unexpected,” he murmured, seemingly to himself. “This isn't necessarily how I'd intended... but it does provide an opportunity...” He trailed off.

              For a long moment, Alex simply started at her, until she shifted awkwardly, fidgeting with her skirt and looking away as she babbled quickly, "Um, I was just joking. You don't have to look at me like I'm--" She gasped and jumped when his hand shot out faster than a striking snake and gripped her chin. He forced her face up until he could look into her eyes and held her there, his brow furrowed, as he searched her features more intensely than he had ever done, as if he could physically strip away her body and find her soul a tangible book he could read.

              Finally, he released her, and she blinked rapidly, her eyes stinging from meeting his stare so long. His sudden, somber forcefulness had rocked her, and her heart was pounding harder than ever. She was blushing, she knew, and much as she tried to stop it, her lower lip trembled. He didn’t seem to notice, however; his gaze had turned far away, as if he was struggling with something inside himself.

              Her composure was fraying, but she still tried to look calm as he seemed to make a decision. He focused on her once again, and his eyes had an odd light in them- a heady mixture of hunger, curiosity, amusement, sadness, and carefully suppressed rage. She found herself gasping as she took in his expression, and forced herself to breathe slowly, controlling her mounting fear. She couldn't control her pulse, however, and it raced faster and faster, her heart pounding in her ears.

              "I suppose I did choose truth," he murmured, absently stroking long fingers along the curve of her calf in the mindless way someone would pet a cat. She tried to sit still, but her body betrayed her with a shudder she hoped he didn't see as he continued to speak. "I understand that vampires are in style these days, but it's really a terrible portrayal. Gets very tedious."

              "So is that a yes, then?" Elise asked, trying to sound nonchalant and almost convincing herself that she wasn’t bordering on terror. She wasn't sure what game he was playing now, and until she figured it out, she was going to play along and try desperately to avoid pissing him off. She briefly considered running, but something about his demeanor warned her that it was a very bad idea. She'd thought she trusted him not to hurt her, but right now, he seemed different; even the times he'd frightened her before paled in comparison to his current mood. Right now, her instincts screamed at her, he was dangerous.

              "After a fashion, I suppose," was his typical, maddeningly cryptic answer. His fingers traced higher up her leg, the touch becoming more purposeful and in itself a threat. Her breath hitched again, and this time he favored her with a smirk. Her eyes widened as he moved closer, sliding his hand up her hip and side to cradle the back of her neck. Leaning his cheek against her hair, he murmured into her ear, “I can taste your fear, darling.”

              She gasped again, suddenly struggling furiously as he pulled her against him, but it was useless, and far too late―he was simply too strong. She pushed hard against his chest, but it didn't even make him hesitate. He slid one arm around her back, pressing her against the length of his body as he rose up on his knees. His other hand wound into her hair, possessing, controlling. He  pulled her head to the side, tilting her face up toward him; all pretense of bravery fled when she felt his lips graze her cheek, brushing down to her jaw, and a whimper slipped from her throat. His dark chuckle vibrated through her, the sound caressing intimately.

              “It would be so easy,” he whispered against her skin, and quick tremors began to race along her body. She was both hot and cold, sinking fear settling in her stomach but fire flushing her skin. She writhed, trying to loosen his grip without any hope of success. But as she strained against the incredible force of his arms and the immovable solidness of his body, she felt the heat burning through her in waves begin to outweigh the icy terror. He let out a tight breath and pulled back enough to look her in the eyes. “I knew it!” she thought she heard him mutter triumphantly, but her heart was hammering so loudly in her ears that she couldn't be sure.

              Elise was panting, a fine trembling taking hold of her from head to toe, and she tasted blood and realized she had bitten her lip. She gazed up at him, pressing her palms fruitlessly against his chest, and once again felt like she was looking into the eyes of a predator. This time, though, she didn’t fight the sensation of helplessness that swept over her. Instead, she let herself melt into his arms, gripping the thin material of his shirt and using it to hold him tightly against her, welcoming the desire uncoiling inside her as a refuge from the fear and any pain to come.

              Alex’s eyes darkened as he looked down at her. “Is that so, little girl?” He all but purred, his voice deeper than before. It had taken on that strange accent, too, she realized-- the one she'd heard hints of when he was angry.

              “Is what so?” She breathed, trying not to get caught up in his spell. She slid her hands over his chest, across his shoulders, and up the back of his neck to grip at his hair. This time, it was he who gasped, and she felt him tense.