Holidays are Hell

But instead of fighting, he felt Six grow more solid in his mental arms, and he matched her transformation until he could pretend he was searching her mind in the flesh. Like walking in a dream and feeling the ground beneath his feet; only, he suddenly found himself in that office with the window, standing beside Six as she stared through the glass. They were both naked.

Six, he said, and she turned just enough to kiss him. A hard kiss, hungry, melting right through his soul, scorching his heart. He pressed her against the window, cradling her head in his hands, and he could feel her skin ride against his own, smooth and hot. He grabbed the backs of her thighs and lifted her up, swinging them both around to the desk until he could lay her flat, pushing apart her thighs, moving between them. Six did not hesitate. She reached down and slid him into her body, raising her legs so that her knees practically touched her chin and her calves rested on his shoulders. Joseph gripped her hips and began thrusting hard.

And then, quite suddenly, they were no longer in each other's minds but on the bed in his room, and instead of being naked they were both in clothes, wrapped around each other, thrusting and grinding. Joseph did not stop. He began tearing off his clothes, as did Six, buttons popping, pants shoved off and caught around ankles. Joseph pulled down the front of Six's bra at the same time he entered her, and the sight of her breasts and the sensation of that first slick stroke almost sent him over the edge. She strained against him, crying out, and all he could do was marvel at the fine, strong lines of her body, the feel of her moving beneath him as he obeyed her urgings and thrust faster, harder, pounding into her as she wrapped her legs around his back, fingernails clawing into his skin.

Joseph had no warning before she turned them, but suddenly he was on his back and she was on top, and that was fine because she lost the bra, and the sight of her bouncing breasts made him so hot that when he touched them he almost lost it for a second time.

Six leaned forward on her palms, thrusting hard. Then she stopped, abruptly, and slid all the way off him. Held herself there as they both panted, Joseph grappling with her hips, and then came down so hard—like that first thrust all over again—that he shouted and sat up, wild, grabbing her around the waist and hips, lifting and squeezing as she moved against him, faster and faster.

He felt her come—rode the wave as her muscles clenched around him—and then took her over the edge a second time with only a few more quick strokes. He came with that second orgasm, emptying himself into her body, and the feeling of being in her arms, spent, was so lush that he wanted nothing more than to plant some roots around them both and never move again.

But as he lay in her arms, he remembered—and slowly, carefully, slipped back into her mind, searching her spirit for the virus that had infected her.

It was still there. Its progression had stopped, the tendrils hard and frozen, but the threat remained. Nor did it appear that it would be disappearing anytime soon.

Permanent and dangerous. Part vampire. Waiting to become whole.

And no way to know what would set it off.

Chapter 6

After the age of thirteen, it became quite easy for Six to reconcile herself with the idea of death. She had, after all, taken lives to save her own, and that was utterly justifiable. As was taking the lives of those who were going to hurt others, however remotely. Indeed, she felt very little remorse about her actions. There was no point. Dead was dead. And she would have to kill again, sooner or later. That was the way of it. That was what she had been trained to do. Her life, no choice.

But now, resting in the darkness of an unfamiliar room, she wondered if this new turn in her life was some kind of karma. A killer without remorse, transforming into the physical manifestation of another kind of killer, also without remorse. Justice, or perhaps a divine joke. Maybe even destiny.

Like meeting Joseph? Six glanced at him. He was finally asleep, though lines of distress still cut into his forehead. He was a beautiful man. Six enjoyed nothing more than staring at his face, analyzing lines and angles and curves. Wanting to touch him again, to feel him inside her. She thought about waking him up, but turned aside that thought. He needed to rest. As did she, though that was unlikely to happen.

Six dressed quietly and went downstairs. She found Wenxia in the kitchen, seated at a fine table with flour scattered, small coins of dough rolled into flat circles. A large bowl of ground pork filled with chopped cabbage, ginger, and shrimp sat by her elbow. It smelled good.

"I'll make you tea," Wenxia said, scooting back her chair.