Water’s Edge (A Series of Sharp Edges #1)

9. Mattie

CHAPTER NINE

mattie

W ave after wave of aftershocks assault me until I submit, pulled under by them. My body shivers as a mist of pleasure consumes me. Sparks tingle across my skin, like tiny shocks of electricity, bringing me back to Earth. Each sensation summons another piece of my soul back into my body. The bed is wet beneath me, soaked in our mixed arousals. I turn to bury my face in his chest, inhaling his woodsy scent and sighing with content.

“Can you tell me your name?” I whisper. I need to know exactly who has unraveled me so completely. His arm curls around me, drawing me closer without straining my body against the ties around each wrist. His fingers delicately trace the curve of my waist, but he stays silent for an unusually long amount of time. If I wasn’t a puddle of cum and bliss right now, my anxiety would take over.

“You’d have to make me a promise,” he says finally. His body stirs beneath mine. “Names have power, Mattie. I could undo you just by knowing your name.”

“Well, then, we’d be even. Tally gave you my name. I didn’t willingly tell you.” An edge of annoyance laces my voice. “It’s far more dangerous for you to know my name, since you also know about…my secret pastime.”

“Is that what we’re calling murder now, little bug? A pastime?” He laughs, and his rumbling chest vibrates against my cheek. “You think I’ll go to the authorities?”

I freeze. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. He knows my name, knows where I live. Yet, I don’t know a single fucking thing about him other than the gravitational pull he has over my body. “Yes.”

“I’m far more dangerous than those who enforce human laws. You should be worried about how I’ll use your name for my benefit.” He moves from below to straddle me, my hips between his thighs.

What the hell does that mean? His benefit. Maybe he’s an identity thief. The joke would be on him. I don’t have an identity to steal. “Who are you?”

“You should ask what I am instead. What am I?” Then, he goes silent again, and my confusion blossoms into panic. He’s been so cryptic since he first waltzed in to the roadhouse and I took him home. I took him back to the safe little nest I built for myself without knowing a single thing about him.

“What are you?” I shiver as the words leave my mouth. I wriggle my wrists against the ropes as my fight-or-flight kicks in, but the sting against my skin causes me to abandon the attempt.

“I’m everywhere and nowhere. Everything and nothing all at once. I’m the ‘hey’ you hear in the woods that sends fear racing through your blood. I’m the pair of eyes you see when you gaze out beyond the trees. The figure in the branches when you look up.”

I want to laugh because of how ridiculous it all sounds, but the primal part of my brain that keeps me alive knows he’s serious. The tone of his voice leaves no hint of a prank. I might not understand exactly what he is, but I know he’s dangerous.

“Knowing my name means you’d be able to summon me, bid me to do terrible things,” he continues as he raises an eyebrow and desire briefly lights up his eyes. “Or pleasurable ones.”

My blood chills, but my cheeks fill with heat. “So you’re a demon.”

“Some religions would call me that, yes. But no, I’m bound to no human concept of a god or devil. I’m much older than any of that.” He tilts his head, waiting for the words to sink in.

I struggle to grasp a single coherent thought. The man beside me feels real. He certainly fucks me like he’s real. But the words he’s saying don’t fit together in the image I’ve built of him inside my mind. I grew up with stories of the horrors that lurk out in Hellsmouth. I had always assumed they were just that: stories. Tales to keep me from straying too far away from our cabin. Tales to keep me from getting too close to people who might warp the way my parents wanted me to view the world.

“You’re fucking with me, right?” I say nervously. I try to push myself further away from him so I can get a better read on his facial expressions. His legs squeeze in tighter against me.

“You’re lying in a puddle of your release to prove it, darling. But if you mean, am I lying to you about my true nature? I’m afraid not.”

“I’m sorry. My brain is struggling to catch up because you look very human to me.” I open one hand and make a small motion towards the beautiful, defined body before me.

“Of course I do. I’d have a hard time getting near your kind if I didn’t,” he laughs darkly.

A facade, his appearance curated to appeal to my senses, to allow him to get close enough that it will be too late once I suspect something is off. The worst part is, it fucking worked. I fell for it. I fell for him.

“So everything about you, everything I see right now, is fake. A cleverly crafted illusion?” I can’t hide the anger rising in my voice.

“I could say the same about you, Mattie darling. Do you not do exactly what you’re accusing me of? Create a palatable persona to have the world accept you, knowing that they’d never take you as you are?” He grins, knowing he has my number.

The vulnerable truth of it makes me feel even more naked than I already am. He’s right and it stings, like his words slapped against my cheek. I look down and let out a disgruntled sigh. He sits next to me on the bed. There’s a gentleness in the action I’m not expecting.

“I have to leave you now.” His voice is low and sad. The unexpected words pull at my heartstrings. He’s leaving me. The bottom of my stomach falls out like I’ve missed the last step going downstairs. My vision blurs around the edges, tunneling in, panic threatening to overtake me.

I’m not sure why the words have this effect on me, especially considering just minutes before, I was silently pleading for him to leave. Release me and go. Run away before I can hurt him like all the others. That’s not what I really want. I crave him in a way I’ve never felt about anyone else. Or maybe it’s Stockholm Syndrome. Can that even happen this quickly?

“Why?” I gasp, trying to hold back the sobs forming around the lump in my throat.

“I don’t belong in this world as a human, playing house. To be with me is to embrace death. Embrace terror and every dark piece of your soul.”

“Haven’t I already been doing that?” I shout. No longer willing to hold back my emotions, letting them break like waves against my tongue. “Haven’t I stared into the darkness long enough to become it?”

His icy gaze holds mine, but the emotion behind it is unreadable. Black mist pours from him. His silhouette goes fuzzy and vibrates rapidly. Rearranging itself into an unrecognizable shape. Vines covered with large thorns circle around him, twisting in on themselves. Pure terror shoots through me, and I can’t hold back the tears anymore. Full sobs rack my chest, every survival instinct screaming full volume for me to escape. My body begs me to get as far away from this abomination as possible.

Through the mist, I catch a brief glimpse of a human skeleton body, but with the skull of a deer as a head. Antlers reaching out beyond the edge of his misty veil. Claws jut from each hand and his feet turn to hooves, but the image is gone as quickly as it came. His form disperses, replaced by scattering shadows.

My heart beats wildly in my chest, and I feel my consciousness become hazy. My muscles freeze. I’m going into shock. The last time I felt like this was after my first kill. I remember the pure panic that filled my lungs as that first body bobbed in Devil’s Pool and I was sure it wouldn’t sink.

Just when I’m on the brink of unconsciousness, the shadows wrap around me. Threads of darkness start at my ankles and then wind up my legs, bringing a tingly, sleepy feeling. The sensation spreads through every nerve, similar to when my legs go numb from sitting too long. Calmness follows, washing over me as the shadows swirl at the apex of my legs and continue up over my stomach, encircling me. Shadowy tendrils work their way up my torso, pausing briefly at my breasts and then caressing my neck. My eyelids droop with heaviness, and my head nods despite my best attempts to keep it upright. The shadows, whispering in my ears, make their way to my lips, slinking their way in. A welcome intrusion. And everything goes black.