The Bloody City (11 page)

“Might be the last time I get to do this. Let me get undressed.”

He pulled off his shirt—he had jeans and a T-shirt on, without the disguise over him. June pulled her shirt off too. Being exposed in a strange, dangerous place made her edgy, but she wasn’t about to pass up this rare opportunity. If they were watching, let them watch. She would give them a show.

She sat up and helped him undo his jeans. As she unzipped them she opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her.

“Don’t say anything.” He placed a finger to her lips. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

She didn’t talk. She pushed his pants and underwear down instead. He was fully hard, the head of his cock glistening in the light from the window.

She wrapped her fingers around that thick, swollen heat, and leaned over and sank her mouth over him. What she couldn’t get in her mouth—a few inches, because she was damn good at this—she used her hand on.

She’d sucked him off a handful of times in the past few weeks, so it was more of the same, and he didn’t seem in the mood for it. After a short time, he urged her off. She barely had time to catch her breath before he pushed her back on the bed and crawled on top of her. He kicked his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off.

“We don’t have a condom,” she said. “Not like either of us has been banging anyone else, but…”

“I told you, this might be the last time I get to do this. I have nothing to lose.”

“I have things to lose. Like my childless status.”

“Guess we’ll have to improvise, then.”

He pushed a hand between her legs. She gasped as he pushed his fingers into her, and she got an idea of how wet she actually was. She clenched around his fingers, aching, needing.

“Shh,” he whispered in her ear. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.”

She grunted as he pushed deeper, the pleasure almost too hard and sharp. No more fingers, no more tongue. He’d better give her the cock this time, something real and solid and hard.

“Micha.” She gripped his hair. “Don’t tease me. You better fuck my brains out.”

He pulled his fingers out and she was slick, hot.

“Please,” she whispered, close to his lips.

She feared as per usual when they got this far, he would go wishy-washy—roll away, say he couldn’t do this right now, he was too distracted, too upset, and she would understand and placate. Instead, he pushed her knees back, and she held her breath. He seemed ready this time, his body at least.

She gasped when the hot bare head of his cock pressed against her. He held still for a moment, hovering over her, and balanced on one arm with his other hand between them, holding his cock to guide himself in. Then he pushed.

He went in smooth and easy. She clenched around him, relieved, ecstatic.

“Micha.” She gritted her teeth, twisting the blanket next to her hip. “Oh, fuck…yes…”

He braced his hands on the mattress, his face lost in shadow above her. “You all right?”

She let out her breath as he eased a few more inches in. “I’m great.”

He took it easy at first, giving her time to adjust. He had himself angled perfectly, a blunt nudging against just the right spot, and she flattened a hand on his chest to even out his rhythm.

“Don’t come inside me,” she warned.

“I won’t. I promise.”

She relaxed and took her hand off his chest. He hooked her knees over his elbows and started pounding into her.

“Ah!” Her pleasure flared, brilliant and intense. “This won’t last long.”

“You’re telling me.”

He gave her a double whammy, playing with her clit ring and sucking at one of the barbells through her nipples. He pounded into her, the way he used to, the bed squeaking and thumping against the wall. She had to bite her lip hard to keep from screaming.

Her mind drifted as she gazed up at the darkened ceiling, as he rocked her against the mattress. Her thoughts ran to unbidden, unexpected places. The vision of Sam lying in bed with Muse flashed sudden and bright into her brain. Not Muse next to him, though. Her. In bed next to him, pressed against him.

What?
No, no, no. Stop.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight. She focused on the feel of Micha’s cock pounding inside her, his fingers on her clit. His other hand gripping her wrist above her head.

Sam’s hand gripping her wrist on the stairs.

She forced herself back into the moment. “Micha,” she groaned, half in guilt, half trying to focus.

Sensation overloaded her senses. His deep, hard thrusts shook her to the core. He knew how to work her ring, teasing her to the edge. The intensity built, higher and higher, stealing her breath, making her claw at the blanket.

“Micha!”

Sam.

She came, clenching hard around him, her body jerking almost convulsively. She yanked at the blanket, yanked at his hair.

“Yes,” Micha gasped, dripping sweat across her cheek. “June.” He shoved up hard into her and she whimpered.

After another minute of frantic thrusting, rattling the bed frame, he swiftly pulled out of her and stroked himself over her stomach. She released the blanket from her death grip and caressed his sweaty, quivering thighs. Warm fluid splattered her stomach. He groaned and shuddered above her.

She closed her eyes and licked her lips. “Micha…”

When he finished, he rolled off her and collapsed at her side. He left her sticky and wet and sore, and still twitching inside.

“You all right?” She caressed his side. “I needed that.”

“Yeah, me too.” He panted. “Thank you.”

What exactly he thanked her for was unclear, but it didn’t matter.

She used the bathroom first, a tiny white closet of a room with a sink and toilet. The walls were dingy, and the air smelled of disinfectant.

She found a rag and cleaned up, refusing to meet her own eyes in the mirror. While tidying up down below, her stomach sank, and anger flared. Micha hadn’t pulled out fast enough.

“Damn it,” she muttered. “‘I promise.’ Yeah right. That’s what they all say.”

She did the math. She was around the end of her cycle, in the clear. Maybe. She should have paid better attention in health class.

How awkward would it be to add Plan B to their supply list this week?

Micha went in after her. She pulled her panties back on but left the pants off. She lay down on the bed, gazing into the darkness, thicker now that she’d been in the bathroom with the light on.

Micha returned, pulled his shirt on, and left his jeans off. They lay on top the blanket, June’s side aching and her breath short. He stroked her arm slung across his chest.

“If we make it out of this alive,” he whispered, “when this is all over, if we don’t feel the same about each other, I want you to know I enjoyed every minute with you.”

June turned her head, getting a face full of his hair. “What are you talking about?”

“Relationships formed during times of crisis. They aren’t built to last. You and I don’t have much in common. We have this, but once it’s gone…”

She pressed against him. “Don’t get maudlin. Or introspective. Or any of those other big words you like to use.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Don’t say anything. Not everything needs to be said.”

June woke with a start, though thankfully not to Rose, or a vampire—the woman standing at the end of the bed probably wasn’t a vampire, anyway. Morning light streamed through the window, making the room appear less stark and more benign than the night before.

The woman wore a white lab coat and thick-framed glasses. She held a clipboard. Her hair was dark and feathery, brushing her shoulders, cut in thick bangs across her narrow forehead.

“I was told there would only be one of you.” She checked her clipboard.

Micha stirred. They were still entwined and pants-less beneath the blanket.

“It’s a long story,” June’s voice croaked. She woke most mornings with belated smoker’s sludge dredged up from her wounded lung, and this morning she also had a sore throat from the allergic reaction. “Sorry.”

Micha stirred again and cracked open his eyes. He opened them wider and blinked at the woman.

“I take it you’re the patient?” the woman asked him. She had a throaty voice, not as bad as Muse, but there was something soothing and comfortable about it. “I wasn’t actually given a name, just a description—Caucasian male, early thirties.”

Micha lifted a languid hand and waved. “Present.” He dropped it back to his chest.

“And you are?” she asked June.

“June.” She struggled into a sitting position, wincing at the hitch in her side. Giving her identity away probably wasn’t smart, but she couldn’t come up with a different name on the spot. “Just…June.”

“Occam is notoriously bad at keeping us informed,” the woman said. “It’s a thing with vampires.”

“Yeah.” Micha rubbed his face. “They definitely lack social graces.”

“Yes, well.” She tucked the clipboard under her arm. “I’m Doctor Trina Watson. You can call me Trina. I’ll be conducting some tests on you this morning.” She delved into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a small clear plastic cup with a lid. “I need some urine.”

“We just met.” June stretched her arms above her head.

“From him.” She tossed the cup at Micha. He made a feeble attempt to catch it, and it landed on his chest. “When you’ve filled it, come down the hallway to the window at the end.” She turned and opened the door.

“Okay,” Micha mumbled, scrabbling at the cup.

Trina left the room.

“How are you feeling this morning?” June asked.

“Let me get back to you on that one.” He sat up with a grunt.

June found the sweat pants and pulled them on while Micha went to the bathroom to fill the cup. The pants were too big, but she used a few of the pins from the dress to keep them from sliding off her hips. She’d lost weight while in hiding, which wasn’t a surprise. Her mother would fuss, since she already thought June was too “slight.”

Not being able to eat most things without going into anaphylactic shock kind of exacerbated that.

She didn’t have shoes, but putting the heels back on was out of the question. She searched through the drawers but didn’t find any footwear.

Micha stepped out of the bathroom, plunked his half-full cup on top the filing cabinet, and grabbed up his jeans. He was bleary eyed and off balance. He sat down heavily on the bed, and June reached out and touched his shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay?”

“I feel like I do every morning.” He dropped his head in his hands. “Like I have a hangover. And I didn’t even get to enjoy the drunk the night before.”

June rubbed his back while he sat slumped for a few minutes. Finally, he leaned back and continued pulling his jeans on.

Once he was dressed, she kissed the back of his neck. “Come on,” she murmured. “Time to play science project.”

She tucked the purse into one of the filing cabinet drawers for safekeeping. They wouldn’t be dealing with vampires in the daytime.

Micha grabbed his cup. They left the room and walked down the hallway. The clinic was much brighter, the lights on, the sound of voices coming from various rooms, but June still tensed when they passed the spot where she’d seen Rose. The window Trina spoke of was at the end of the hallway, opening onto an office. A woman sat at a desk behind the window, and Trina stood behind her.

“Delivery,” June said.

Micha thrust the cup through the window. The woman behind the desk didn’t move to take it.

“Good,” Trina said. “Hold onto it for a moment.”

They stepped back from the window.

Micha scowled. “You’d think after all I’ve been through I wouldn’t have to stand around holding a cup of my own piss.”

“Just be happy it’s not a body part.”

Trina left the room behind the window through a door to the right of it. She held a folder.

“We’re going to do some basic tests today,” she said. “Normal stuff. Blood work, MRI, X-rays.”

“Do the not-normal tests start tomorrow?” June asked.

Trina looked down at June’s bare feet. June wiggled her toes.

“A bit unhygienic,” Trina said. “Don’t you think?”

“All I have with me is a pair of heels. My coming here was a bit of a last minute decision.”

Trina adjusted her glasses. “I’ll get you a pair of slippers.” She turned and motioned for them to follow her. “Come with me.”

They followed her down the hallway, June’s bare feet slapping on the tile.

“Can I call you something besides Patient X?” Trina asked Micha. “Do you have a name?”

“X is fine,” Micha said.

“You know, I have no clue what I’m looking for with these tests. Occam didn’t give me any information. He just said he wanted you studied and cataloged.”

“How humanizing of him,” Micha said.

“I could make my testing more specific if I knew what to look for. Care to fill me in?”

Micha opened his mouth, but then closed it. They couldn’t say anything.

“I guess if they didn’t tell you,” Micha said, “it must be a secret.”

“Very well, then.” Her voice went high and clipped. “This isn’t unusual. I put up with it quite regularly from the vampires.”

“I bet you do,” June said.

June received a pair of fuzzy blue hospital slippers. They were offered breakfast: coffee, bagels, and fruit. Trina told Micha to eat something before she took blood, so he munched listlessly on a dry bagel. June had some black coffee and a banana. Those things weren’t trying to kill her—yet. Trina told her she could tag along for the testing if she stayed out of the way, and if Micha gave his permission. He did.

“Why are you here, anyway?” Trina asked June. She led them to another part of the building.

“Quality control, I guess you could say.”

“Are you working for Occam?”

“No. Not in a million years.”

“I take it you’re a couple? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Married?”

“Let me put it this way,” June said. “If I had access to it, my Facebook status would say, ‘it’s complicated.’”

Micha smirked.

The tests indeed seemed “normal” as Trina indicated. She took Micha’s vitals: heart rate, blood pressure, temperature, noting all were slightly elevated. She measured his height and weight. What had he weighed before all this started? He definitely had a few bones sticking out now. She drew blood. She asked him a million questions about his health and family background.