Death Song (Tales from the Tarot)

9. Rex

Chapter nine

Rex

C harlie’s blood still coats my tongue as he slumps against me, my hand slick with his release. He breathes heavily for a few moments, hands shaky as he lifts them to wipe at his face, but he makes no move to leave my lap. I am more than okay with this. His pure honey scent filters through my nose, tingling down every bit of me, and if he wanted to stay on my lap forever, I would gladly let him.

I knew there was a scent beneath the chemicals, but now knowing the clarity of it, my head is spinning with thoughts and wonderings that I don’t have the right words for.

Who is this human in my arms? How did he come to be so similar to Marius, yet completely different in the same breath?

Before I have time to sink too deep into those thoughts, Charlie pushes himself up off my lap and makes quick work of tucking himself away into his boxers before closing his pants. While he does that, I lick his release from my palms, savoring the taste of him mixed with the lingering remnants of his delicious blood. Perhaps another time, he will let me taste both of them again, but for now I won’t press my luck.

I want, though.

I am hard myself in my pants, but I will let it be for the moment. Charlie is wavering on his feet and blood trickles down his neck from the openings in his skin that I have not yet closed tight. I must take care of his needs first and foremost. I reach for him to pull him backward so I can seal them up, but he turns to face me, showing me his confused and stricken expression.

“What the fuck was that?” he asks, wiping at the stray blood drops on his skin. He holds his hand up and looks at me, accusingly.

“If you’d let me, I will seal them up.”

Charlie hesitates a moment before stepping closer to me. I pull him down and quickly lathe my tongue over the bite marks, pulling them closed as goosebumps spring to the surface of his flesh. When I let him go, he steps backward, away from me.

“Is that what it’s like to be drank from? Like, for everyone?”

He sounds uncertain and unsure of himself, and I finally understand why he seems out of sorts. Aside from the fact that he’s just been fed from for the first time in his life, his cheeks are turning red like he is embarrassed.

“It is a pheromone,” I explain, hoping to ease his discomfort. “Leeched by the saliva in my mouth when I feed on humans. It’s meant to replace the fear and anguish of my fangs with pleasure and passion.”

“Well, it works,” Charlie mumbles, tucking his arms around himself protectively. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

“I didn’t give you much warning of anything, I’m afraid. I do apologize. There’s just… something about you I can’t make sense of.”

Your scent. Your presence. Your art and your talented hands that create dreams that are memories on canvas. The list goes on and on when it comes to the unanswered questions I have about Charlie Polston.

Charlie Marius Polston, actually. His middle name has significance, that much I know, though that is another unanswered question.

“So, if you drank from me again, I would…” he trails off, cheeks burning beneath the freckles.

“Do you want to feed me again, Charlie?”

“I didn’t say that,” he blurts, though I know he desires. “Just wondering. My head is a mess right now. I was just curious.”

“Should you ever wish for me to take your blood again, I will. You are the most delicious thing I’ve tasted in so long.”

“Oh. Okay. Um. Good to know. Thanks.”

I have seen worried Charlie, exhausted Charlie and confused Charlie, but flustered Charlie is quickly becoming my favorite of the bunch. With his defenses removed and his secrets out in the open, he is even more charming than I imagined he could be.

“He didn’t mention how fucking weird things were going to get,” Charlie mutters under his breath. I get the feeling I wasn’t meant to hear him, but I can’t help but hear him.

“Who?”

“This guy at this Magic Shop place. He gave me a tarot card and told me change was coming. Said I needed to embrace whatever it was, that acceptance of it was the key behind moving forward into whatever the path the universe wants me on.”

“The Owner?”

Charlie nods, offering a half smile. “I should have known you’d know him.”

“I’ve known him for years, though it’s been some time since I stepped into his shop. Does he still have the book that shrieks when you touch it?”

“Excuse me, he has a book that screams if touched?”

“Oh yes. Dramatic little thing, that one is.” While I’m simply trying to lighten the mood a bit as I can see Charlie is deep in thought and confusion, there really is a book in the Magic Shop that hollers like it’s being murdered if you happen to bump it.

Charlie laughs, shaking his head as his smile lights up the room around us. I can see he’s still tired, though the removal of the chemical toxins from his bloodstream has brought a bit of life back into him. Eventually though, his laugh stops, and he meets my eyes with a sober gaze.

“Am I in danger? Are you? Because of the paintings, I mean.”

“Perhaps,” I reply. “I do know that with the lock on the door broken and Colin’s client, whoever he may be, knowing who you are and where to find you, this place is unsafe.”

“I thought so.” Charlie slumps the tiniest bit where he stands. “Colin said he wanted all of them and hinted that he’d also be interested in whatever else I paint from my dreams.”

“You can stay with me,” I offer. “I have extra space and being just upstairs will save you time on commuting to paint The Pinwheel Club mural.”

“You still want me to do that?”

“Of course. I paid you for it, didn’t I?”

“I just thought that maybe knowing who I am and what else I’ve painted would wreck that somehow.” He speaks hesitantly, yet I can hear the hope ringing in his voice. He needs this commission, and I get the sense that that runs deeper than requiring the money within the contract.

“Paint me a cottage and a mural, Charlie,” I start, hoping he remembers the rest of what I told him.

“And I will pay you the moon, the stars and everything in between,” he finishes with a small smile.

“Wow, ego much?” Emery quips as I carry the canvas containing Charlie’s painting of me into the home we share. “We get it. You’re pretty. You had a crown. We understand.”

Charlie laughs softly behind me, and I catch the moment Emery’s eyes open wide with interest. He steps forward, peering over my shoulder with a grin on his face, and I guess we’re doing introductions before settling in. Still, there are worse welcoming parties than my pink-haired feral little brother.

“Emery, this is Charlie. Charlie, this is Emery, my brother.”

“Chosen brother,” Emery corrects, as Charlie steps out from behind me. “He chose to bring me home. Can you believe?”

“I can unchoose it just as quick.”

“Aw, no, you can’t. You’re stuck with me, dude. No take backsies.”

I sigh but can’t help but smile at the way Charlie’s eyes have lit up at Emery’s manner. “No take backsies. Where’s Gibson? Might as well get introductions all done with at once so Charlie can get some rest.”

“He went out,” Emery offers, before mouthing the word ‘hungry’ to me and then proceeding to make his pointer fingers into fangs by his lips like somehow that was good secret keeping.

“He knows, Emery.”

“Oh, thank the gods. Being a vampire is kind of like Fight Club rules. You don’t talk about it, but we do. Often. Want some chocolate milk? I was just going to grab a glass.”

Charlie glances from Emery to me, then back to Emery again. “Chocolate milk? I thought—”

“Oh, blood, right. Yeah, but we don’t eat just that. We all maintain some kind of appetite for other things, even though we could theoretically just live off blood alone. I can’t give up my chocolate milk.”

Charlie looks at me expectantly, and I offer, “Steak and potatoes. My downfall.”

“And honey,” Emery adds. “Toast with honey. Every morning.”

“Honey, huh?” Charlie asks, a twinkle in his eye that has me smiling even though I’m blushing like a child with a secret crush. Embarrassing.

Emery grins as he looks at the expression on my face, and I glare back at him, unwilling to let him have this moment to poke fun at me. He rolls his eyes, then gestures towards the kitchen that runs along the left-hand side of the space. “Comin’?”

“Might as well go with him, you must be hungry.”

“I am,” Charlie admits as Emery heads into the kitchen, clearly too compelled by his need for chocolate milk to remember to wait for him.

“Side effect of giving blood. You can leave your stuff right there and when Emery is done filling you with sugar, I’ll take you to your room so you can crash.”

Charlie nods his agreement but seems hesitant to walk into the kitchen alone. I don’t blame him in the least, hungry Emery is a bit unnerving, but he’s also had a wild day filled with lots of revelations about himself and everything he once thought he knew. I take the lead, walking past him into the kitchen but taking a moment to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as I do so.

“Want cheese?” Emery asks as we walk into the long, galley style kitchen. He’s got the fridge wide open and has piled his arms up with a carton of chocolate milk, a carton of raspberries and a box of thin mints he swears taste better when they’re cold. He glances over at Charlie, waiting for his answer but Charlie responds with a small shake of his head.

“Crackers?” he asks. “And maybe some raspberries, if that’s all right?”

“Dude, totally. Whatever you want, you can have.” Emery kicks the fridge closed and turns, depositing his snacks on the counter beside him. He then turns and opens a cupboard, revealing Gibson’s stash of crackers, nuts and dried fruit. “Want some of these weird, dried mangoes? Gibson loves them but I think they smell like farts.”

Charlie laughs, shaking his head. “Just soda crackers and some raspberries is fine. My stomach is weird.”

“Anything for you, Rex?” Emery asks, grabbing a box of crackers off the shelf and handing them to Charlie. I shake my head, and he nods, turning to grab a plate from another cupboard. He opens the raspberry container and shakes a pile of them out onto the plate, staining the white porcelain red with the juices. He places the plate down and pushes it over to Charlie. “Yours. Unless you want more? You can have more.”

“That’s enough, thanks.” Charlie lifts the plate quickly before Emery can add more fruit to it. “This is perfect.”

“Cool. Well, welcome? I guess. I see you’ve got a bag, so I guess you’re staying for a bit. Wanna come watch a movie?”

I can see Charlie’s head spinning as he tries to keep up with Emery’s ping pong train of thoughts. I should have warned him ahead of time that it’s useless to try and keep up, but that Emery is harmless. He’s also desperate for friends, having lost everyone he once held dear by being turned into a vampire at such a tender, young age.

“I think I should let Charlie get some food into him, then maybe show him his room so he can get some rest,” I say, intervening before Charlie has to decline as I can sense he is hesitant to do so.

“Oh, for sure,” Emery comments with a grin as he pops a raspberry into his mouth. “Maybe we can watch a movie later or something. If you want.”

“That would be nice,” Charlie says, giving him a genuine smile.

Emery grins and heads out of the kitchen but not before connecting his eyes right to mine. He gives me a meaningful look, raising an eyebrow in question, and I stare back at him, giving him a tiny shake of my head. Not here. Not now. I’ll explain later, but this isn’t the moment for it.

When he’s gone, I turn to Charlie. “You don’t have to eat all that.”

“I probably can,” he admits. “I haven’t been eating well lately.”

Without thinking, I reach out and cup his cheek in my hand, smoothing my thumb over his cheekbone. He leans into my palm, warm and soft where I hold him for a moment before I reach my other hand out and pluck a raspberry off the plate. I hold it up to his lips and he inhales a breath before opening his mouth and allowing me to place it on his wet tongue. He chews, then swallows, and I can’t stop watching him.

I can’t stop wanting him, berry sweet and honey scented. Leaning forward, I take a chance, grasping the plate he holds in front of him and putting it to the side counter. He knows what I’m after and meets me in the middle, tilting his head up to mine.

“Rex,” he breathes, a smile on his lips.

“Charlie,” I reply, as I tilt my head down and taste of his lips for the first time. His lips are pillow soft as he presses against me, his honey scent filling my head with need and a lust so deep, I am again straining at the jeans I wear. I back away though, reminding myself that I don’t need more tonight, and that Charlie needs to eat. I’m filled with his delicious blood and because of that, he is drained.

“Eat,” I whisper as I pull out of the kiss, leaving Charlie breathless and panting. “Then sleep.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, turning to grab the plate of raspberries from the counter. I grab the crackers and add them to his arms, then lead him to the table so he can have his snack and replenish what I took from him.

After he is rested, there will be more moments to get to know the depth of Charlie Polston and all that he is made of.