Léopold's Wicked Embrace (Immortals of New Orleans) (17 page)

Laryssa looked around the open-blocked shower and tried to find the exit through the steam. Refusing to spend one more second with this man, she moved to get away from him, and he grabbed her hand.

“Please, it’s not what you think. I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I shouldn’t have been so rough when we made love.” Léopold embraced her. “You’re right. It was amazing…you’re amazing.”

With certainty, Léopold knew that he’d been so wrong about her. No, his Laryssa wasn’t a rabbit at all. She was a survivor and a fighter, unafraid to call him out on his atrocious behavior. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel every surface of their skin that joined. She and the intimacy she laid at his feet terrified him more than any demon. For the first time in his life, he wondered if he’d be able to continue to live within his own restrictions.

Léopold turned on the heat lamp, guiding Laryssa out of the shower. She took in her surroundings, aware that she’d missed them when he’d relocated them from the lake to the bathroom. Italian architecture echoed throughout the space, with its dark mahogany cabinetry and cream marbled floors. Before she had a chance to walk any further, he wrapped a warm towel around her shoulders.

“Let me,” he said in a dark low tone.

“But I can dry myself,” she protested.

“I insist,” he told her, leaving her no quarter for argument. Placing a bath rug on the floor, he knelt before her, bringing the towel from her shoulders with him so that it trailed down her back.

The act of each soft brush of the Egyptian cotton on her skin was the single most intimate touch she’d ever experienced. Laryssa rested her hands on Léopold’s shoulders, reflecting on how they had just made love in the shower. They’d been unleashed, utterly wild with desire. Then he’d grown distant. Despite his apology, it was as if he’d turned off a part of himself emotionally. Yet his behavior continued to conflict with the killer he’d touted himself to be.

“What were you going to tell me when I was inside you?” he asked, caressing the towel down her legs. Slowly, he dried each foot, and then drew the terrycloth up her left inner thigh. He repeated the process on her right leg.

“Naiad. I’m a naiad,” she confessed. Relief and concern swirled through her mind, but she was soon caught off guard when he glided his fingertips over her mound.

“I love your smooth pussy. Just a little trail of hair here…very pretty,” he commented.

“Um, thanks,” she laughed. No one she’d ever been with had ever commented on her lady garden, let alone been on his knees in front of her inspecting it like he was looking at a rare flower. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I want to lick you until you can’t speak your own name. Shall we give it a try?” He glanced up to her, catching her gaze and gave her a naughty grin.

“Okay. Well that sounds really nice and all, but didn’t you just say that we couldn’t do this?” She pointed to the shower then to her chest and to him. “Not that I’m disagreeing with you. That sounds pretty tempting to me, but you seem to have a problem deciding whether or not you want to be with me.”

“Pas de problème, ma chérie. I want you, don’t ever doubt that. It’s the bond, the emotions that can form. Complications and such. I suppose I am wavering. On my knees before you, the only thing I can think of is how much I want to drag my tongue over your pink lips.”

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to demand it. Seriously, Leo, aren’t you going to say anything? After everything I just told you…about what I am and you haven’t said one word about it.” As much as she wanted to discuss it, the idea of Léopold giving her oral sex was extraordinarily attractive. She grew wet with arousal again and she knew he’d smell it on her.

“Well how am I supposed to concentrate when I’m so close to you like this? You taste sweet, no?” Léopold leaned forward and darted his tongue through her slit, tracing over her beaded treasure until he felt her shiver into his mouth. He licked his lips like a satisfied cat. “Ah, oui. Délicieux.”

“Léopold,” Laryssa cried.
What is it with this man? He must be well versed in the fine art of torture.
She couldn’t decide whether or not to grab his hair, and encourage him to finish what he’d started or slap him out of frustration. But before she had a chance to make a final decision, he quickly patted her pussy dry and had pushed onto his feet, standing before her.

“A nymph, oui?”

“Kind of…I guess.”

“Here, put this on.” He handed her his bathrobe. “I cannot concentrate on a single word you’re saying when you’re like this.”

“You mean like this?” She smiled and took the black garment from his hands. Refusing to put it on, she draped it over her forearm and put her hand on her hip, giving him a full view of her body.

“Exactly like that. Now, put it on.” He wrapped his towel around his waist and walked out into the bedroom.

“You’re very bossy for someone who was just on his knees,” she commented flippantly.

“You’re a bit mouthy for someone who was just screaming my name,” he countered.

“Should I give you the pleasure of being on your knees again, I’ll try to keep that in mind.” She rolled her eyes and put on the bathrobe. “So what? No questions? No ‘what else can you do’? Or does the wise one already know all there is to know about naiads?”

“Come sit.” He gestured to a double width chaise that curved on both ends. Lined in copper studs, its brown leather appeared well conditioned but comfortably worn.

Wide eyed and incredulous, Laryssa stared at him.

“Please sit,” he drawled.

“See? That wasn’t so difficult, now was it?” She sashayed past Leo, trailing a finger over his bare chest, giving him a flirty smile. Sitting down into the lounge, she curled into it like a kitten and laid her head back on the cushion.

“You are a difficult woman, no?”

“Oui,” she teased.

“We need to talk, Laryssa.” Léopold walked over to a large antique armoire and opened its doors. Pulling out a decanter and two snifters he set them on his desk and began to pour them a drink. “I’ve met a few nymphs, but I’ve never seen one do what you do. While they’re known in mythology to be dangerous, I’ve never met one that was. Aside from needing water, drawing energy from water, I haven’t ever met one who could move objects. Here,” he said, extending the glass to her.

With a small smile, she accepted it. She shook her head, amused, but not surprised that he hadn’t bothered to ask her if she even wanted a drink. He was aggravating yet undeniably thoughtful.

“Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome,” he replied, sensing her internal struggle with his dominance. “Now tell me, were you born naiad? It’s rumored you are created as goddesses of the rivers. Some say the daughters of Zeus. Others? The daughters of Poseidon. I, however, believe mythology to be just that…a myth. The supernatural world, through magic or perhaps evolution has created splinter races.”

“I wasn’t born naiad. I’m human…or I should say, was human. Raised in a small town in Ohio…just like everyone else.”

“How’d it happen?” Léopold sidled up next to Laryssa, wrapping an arm around her.

“I died. Well, I drowned. But I’m pretty sure I died.”

“How?”

“I was thirteen. Mom had told me not to go skating alone, but my friend, Lauren couldn’t go with me that day. And as you may have noticed, I’m determined when I want to be.”

“Stubborn? Really? I don’t believe it,” he said, his words laced in sarcasm.

“I prefer the term ‘strong willed’. It’s an asset, you know?”

“Whatever you say, ma chérie. Go on.”

“Long story short, I lied. I told mom Lauren was going when she wasn’t. It had been at freezing temps for over a week. The ice should’ve been strong, but as I found out, it was thin near where the creek spilled into the lake. It was stupid of me, I know. But I was just a kid. I can still remember the loud sound, the creaking. And then I saw the crack. The ice began shifting. I tried to skate off to get to the other side, but I wasn’t fast enough. It all happened pretty quickly.”

Laryssa took a sip of her brandy. It was such a long time ago, but she’d never forget the helplessness as she slipped into her icy grave. Screaming as she plunged into the abyss, she knew no one would hear her.

“I’m not sure exactly what happened. I just remember panicking, scraping at the sheets of ice, trying to get leverage to pull myself out. I really tried so hard to get out, but the longer I struggled…I got so tired. I couldn’t think straight and my hands,” Laryssa pulled at her fingers, remembering the way the cold had immobilized them, “I remember slipping into the icy pond, unable to hold on and then gasping for air. And once I was all the way underneath the water, I couldn’t stop from breathing it in. The water, it just suffocated me.”

Léopold put down his drink on the floor and gently took her hands in his, massaging her palms with his thumbs.

“I don’t know…it was dark. But then all of a sudden, it was light. Not like how people describe when they are dying with
the
light…you know, the one they say you’ll see when you die. This was different. There was no tunnel or anything. Just this bright light and then this woman was there, and she was talking to me like we weren’t underneath the water. She told me she was naiad and that she was giving me her gift.”

“And then you woke up?”

“Well, not exactly. I mean, the woman, she was so calm and beautiful. I can still remember she had this flowing, fiery red hair and it was kind of fanned out in the water, like these magical little tendrils dancing. I don’t remember much after seeing her. Only that just for a second, right before I woke up, I felt this darkness…kinda how it felt tonight. It all was so fast, though.”

“Did they find you?”

“Well, yeah. My friend had called the house while I was out, and I was totally busted. When my parents found out that I wasn’t with Lauren, they went to the lake, saw my gear on the edge of it but not me. I didn’t regain consciousness until I was in the ambulance. I’d been under for nearly an hour and a half. They called it a miracle…at least until I came home.”

“Is that when you realized your abilities?”

“You know, it just seemed like a dream. All of it. Dying. Seeing that woman. The darkness. Waking up and then in the hospital, I was just me. I didn’t feel any different. But within a week of being home, I started to notice this energy…my energy. I can’t explain it but I became obsessed with the lake. I’d sneak out of my parents’ house. At first, I’d just submerge my hands. And then one day, a few months later, I became angry about something. I was in my room and instead of picking up a pillow to throw it, I just thought it, like I was going to grab it but I hadn’t. It flew across the room.”

“That must have been scary, no? I remember how it felt after I was turned. No one had mentored me either,” he mused.

“I was scared to death. I thought I was going crazy but I remembered that one word.
Naiad.
I went to the library and researched everything I could find about naiads, which wasn’t exactly helpful because as you pointed out, most of what people know is just mythology. Not exactly reality.”

“And your parents?”

“They weren’t having any of it. They are very, very conservative. Of course, I hid it at first. But when my mom caught me moving things in my room, the next thing I knew they had the priest at the house. They thought I was possessed or something. When they caught me a second time, my mother slapped me across the face, grounded me. And the third time…well, they sent me off to live with my aunt in Chicago.”

“How old were you?”

“Fifteen. Aunt Mary wasn’t too bad but she wasn’t exactly the best role model…drank way too much and brought home lots of strange men. The one thing she did teach me was waitressing. She got me a job at her diner. The day after I graduated high school, I left for Vegas using the money I saved.”

“Not much water in the Mojave desert.”

“Yeah. I never realized how much of a problem that would be. What can I say? I was young and naïve. I just wanted to get away, to disappear. I knew how to waitress and I thought, ‘why not Vegas?’”

“Ah, the lessons of youth.”

“In hindsight, I should have known it wasn’t a good idea. When I was first changed, putting my hands in a pond or a river was enough to satisfy my need for water. Of course, I tried a pool but that didn’t work. It’s not part of nature. Anyhow, by the time I moved in with my aunt, I’d begun swimming in fresh water at least once a week. I think she knew that I was sneaking out to Lake Michigan, but she never said anything. It wasn’t until my sixteenth birthday that I started to realize that I needed the water in order to thrive. If I didn’t go, I’d be exhausted, barely waking up or able to go to school. The longer I went without it, the weaker I’d get. When I got to Las Vegas, though, that’s when I learned the hard lesson that if I don’t have it, I’ll die.”

“I imagine a water nymph wouldn’t do so well there.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure what I thought at the time. Have you ever been to Vegas in July? It’s hotter than hell. I’d just turned eighteen and was working in this little all-night diner, staying in a fleabag motel.” Laryssa swiped her hand across her eyes. “It was awful. But it was the first time that there was no one to answer to about my ‘abilities’, no one to make me feel bad about what I was doing. In the end, I only lasted a few months. I had to go all the way out to Lake Mead for my water. I was only going maybe once every two weeks. I knew it wasn’t enough, but I couldn’t find the time with my work schedule. Also, I think I really just wanted to be normal, so I’d convince myself that I didn’t need the water. Denial is a wonderful thing…well, until I crashed. One night I went out to the desert with a friend, I almost died. I should’ve known. I’d been feeling sick all week.”

“A boyfriend?” Léopold shouldn’t care, he knew, yet an unfamiliar pain of irritation jabbed at his chest.
Jealousy?
He dismissed it as soon as he thought the word.
Possessiveness perhaps?
Yes, that was more his style. Léopold collected, possessed…
things
that belonged to him.