The car ride was uncomfortably silent. She could tell Kennedy wasn’t sure where to start. Godwin had been clearly agitated that he was not coming along, despite the fact that it was his own suggestion. It was frustrating that he didn’t have a phone. How did people live before cell phones, unable to contact anyone else at any time? She was going to get him a phone.

Kennedy gave Godwin directions to her house, and he told her he would be there in two hours, and not to leave without him, no matter what. He made her swear it, but she would have obeyed him without that. She wanted to obey him, something inside of her absolutely demanding her follow his commands, even when they weren’t playing. And especially now, her fear of Chip’s instability, still out there…she’d listen to Godwin.

Kennedy had pulled her into a strong hug through the car door, squeezing too tightly for too long. Seneca didn’t fight it, returned her hug. She realized that if Chip had succeeded, she may never have hugged Kennedy again, and that had her hugging back just as hard. They both had tears streaming down their eyes when they pulled apart. Horns blared behind them and Kennedy flicked the offending drivers off before pulling back into traffic.

They were into Kennedy’s tiny house before either of them spoke. The smell of dogs, the smell of home, had her sobbing for a third time that day, all of her strength fading away. Kennedy pulled her into her arms and cried with her, rocking slowly back and forth.

“What happened, Seneca?” she said, voice raw. Kennedy pulled away but didn’t take her hands from her.

“Can I have some tea?” she said instead. She had spent the whole ride thinking about how to explain what happened to Kennedy and had come up with nothing good.

“Of course. Let me put the kettle on and then I’ll let the dogs out. Sit down. Do you want a snack? Is your lust okay? Grant is on the way, should be here in like…probably about half an hour,” Kennedy fretted, moving around the house while still talking to her.

“I’ll get the dogs, Kennedy,” Seneca called, already heading back to the kennels. Her arm ached but the pain was dull and throbbing instead of sharp and painful. Godwin had inspected her arm, his face concerned and angry at the same time. She knew she needed blood, she could feel the lust in her stomach build up like a small, angry rodent clawing and gnawing inside of her. Even Kennedy smelled good to her.

She had never, and would never, never take from Kennedy. Never. She could deal with her hunger until Grant arrived. Grant was a Wren, a friend of Kennedy’s, who came over when Seneca was younger, close to her lust and unable provide for herself. He was a kind, older man, probably old enough to be her grandpa. His age helped her not feel sexually attracted to him when she drank. Well, less sexually attracted to him. With Wrens…it was hard not to feel some type of attraction when their blood was a strong aphrodisiac.

She smiled as the dogs, Freya and Freki, practically leaped from their kennels, chasing each other playfully towards the back door. They looked so much happier, and healthier, than when she and Kennedy were cleaning them up just a few weeks ago. “Hello, pups,” she cooed at them as Freya pushed her sharp head into her hand. She scratched her softly and was nearly pushed down as Freya jumped up on her, forcing her back into the wall with her bad arm.

Pain scissored down the length of her arm and she hissed. Freya pulled away quickly, whimpering with her tail between her legs. “No, no, girl, it’s okay. Shh,” she said soothingly to the sensitive animal. Freki ran back to see what the fuss was, his eyes narrowed in an almost human way.

Favoring her arm, she called to the dogs again, walking to the sliding glass door that opened into Kennedy’s fenced in postage stamp yard. Both dogs pushed past her speedily, yipping and running joyfully around the yard.

She returned to the table, the pain in her arm making her eyes water. Her lust was closer now, growing from a mouse to the size of a rat. Kennedy placed a steaming cup of black tea down in front of her and sat across from her.

“So, tell me what happened. The truth, and leave nothing out,” Kennedy said firmly. Her eyes were baggy and red, and Seneca knew she hadn’t slept. More guilt filled her gut, making her feel slightly ill.

“So…that’s hard. I’m not sure where to begin…” she said, biting her cheek until the pain there distracted her from the pain in her arm. She was tired of everything hurting.

Kennedy stood back up, moved to the cupboard and came back with a bottle of ibuprofen. “You look like you could use some of these. That break must be bad if it’s still hurting you this much. Grant will be here soon, that should help.”

Seneca took the pills she handed her and swallowed them dry, then blew on her tea and sipped it carefully, washing the pills down the rest of the way. She knew they wouldn’t be super effective, but they should help cut the pain down a little.

“Alright. Thanks,” she said, swallowing another sip of tea. “So…I met someone.”

“Your ‘dark horse’?”

Seneca smiled, knowing that Olivia and her mother must have talked about him. “Yes, the ‘dark horse’.”

“Is that Godwin fellow your dark horse?” Kennedy asked with a look of amusement.

“He is. Am I telling this story or not?” she fussed. Kennedy’s eyebrow rose up and she nodded her head for Seneca to continue.

She wove her story, telling Kennedy about how she met Godwin, leaving out the more intimate details, about how she started seeing him. She told her about hooking up with Josh, but again left out the finer details.

“Godwin doesn’t mind sharing you with Josh?” Kennedy asked, her lips pinched.

“Ah, well, he’s not a Wren, so he understands, I guess, that I need more,” she hedged. Even though Godwin told her she could make the decision to tell her of his nature, she felt like she would be violating his trust.

“So, he knows your nature and understands it enough to know you need a Wren?” Kennedy lead.

“Ah, yea…” she replied, scrunching her face.

“What aren’t you telling me, Seneca?” her mother asked firmly.

Seneca shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. She sighed, opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again.

“I’m sorry. I can tell this is hard for you. Take your time, I didn’t mean to rush you. So, you are hanging out with Josh again, too?”

Seneca bit the inside of her lip again, which hadn’t yet healed. She had to stop hurting herself, she wasn’t healing right. It was going to bring her lust faster, but she couldn’t help it. “Godwin is…god, Kennedy, it’s so stupid, I’m so dumb.”

“Calm down, have some tea, and start again. You’re not dumb, and this is not dumb. It’s important,” her adopted mother soothed as well as she could. If Kennedy didn’t know her mother as well as she did, she would have thought Kennedy was being harsh. She wasn’t, but her face didn’t match her emotions very well.

“Okay, okay. Godwin is an incubus,” she forced herself to admit. “A demon.”

Kennedy sipped her tea, a contemplative look on her face. “Incubus?” she asked finally.

Seneca nodded, hiding behind her teacup. Kennedy’s emotionless face was making her nervous.

“Incubus,” she said again, testing the word on her lips. “So Chip did see a demon last night. I thought…I figured he had, actually. But…well, the thing with Josh makes more sense now.” She nodded, sipping at her tea. “Okay, go on.”

Seneca skipped over the finer details of the relationships she had with Godwin and Josh. The fingers of her good hand trailed across Godwin’s collar comfortingly. She told her mother about the blue ribbons, and then she told her about Chip’s attempted kidnapping and Godwin’s rescue.

Kennedy’s face grew more and more pinched. Her hands tensed around her mug as Seneca told her of the events, the ribbon in her mouth, the duct tape, her arm breaking, and Godwin saving her, taking her to his home and fixing her arm as best he could. She left out the amazing sex.

Kennedy licked her lips, then pinched them together. “I…I am so sorry. I’m…we should press charges. Get a restraining order. I can get working on that. You won’t even have to go to court. I’ll get this all taken care of, I promise. That son of a bitch. I’ll…if I see him again, Seneca…” Kennedy threatened angrily.

“Thank you, Kennedy,” she said sincerely. She shifted, her arm feeling less sharp and more dull, the pills kicking in. “Olivia said he broke into my apartment!”

Kennedy’s face purpled with anger. “I’m sorry, Seneca. That’s my fault. I was worried about you, and he was going on and on about demons and…I lost my head. I’ll have your locks changed today. He…I am so, so, so mad at him. I want to punch him in the face, that stupid…I want to make him pay for hurting you, for putting you through…”

“Kennedy, I’m okay. It’s okay. I don’t want to go home alone, not until the locks are changed. But other than that, I’m fine. I really am. Godwin was there,” she insisted.

“Seneca, how did Godwin know how to find you? How did he know you were in trouble?”

“I dunno, not exactly,” she said, scrunching her face up as she thought about it. “He said he can feel his blood in me.”

“You drank from him?!” Kennedy said harshly. Seneca flinched and her face fell as soon as the words left her lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“It’s okay,” she said, trying to ignore the guilt in her stomach as it ate into her. “Yes, I drink from him pretty often. I still need Josh, though, I can’t drink too much. His blood is…it’s different.”

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Kennedy asked her, her face blank but her voice full of concern.

“Not really, but he tastes amazing and I feel really good afterwards. I’ve been doing it for about a month now without anything bad happening.”

There was a knock at the front door that had them both looking up. A moment later Grant walked in. He wore jeans and his typical sweater vest, this one orange and red, with a white, long-sleeved shirt beneath it. He looked exactly how Seneca remembered him, though his hair was all white now and his glasses looked a little thicker. He had gained some weight, too, now a bit more round in the midsection. All in all, he looked good, healthy and happy.

“Seneca,” he said, smiling warmly. “How’ve you been, girl? It’s been years!”

“Hello Mr. Grant,” she said respectfully. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Yeah, when Kennedy called me I knew something bad must have happened. You’ve broken your arm!” he exclaimed, looking at her makeshift towel and duct tape cast.

Her face felt hot. “Yeah, I got into an accident. I’m…” she trailed off, her lust twisting her stomach painfully. Her fangs dropped as she caught a whiff of him. He smelled like wood glue and paint, and she knew he must have been working in his woodshop before he came. The reminiscent scent of him brought back memories of her childhood, both good and bad.

She had to restrain herself from just grabbing his wrist and biting down into the thin skin there. His wrist was where she always fed, never his neck or anywhere else. Always his wrist. He sighed heavily and pulled a chair over so that he was sitting down next to her, then pushed his hand into hers.

“Go ahead, girl, take what you need,” he insisted. She trembled, her emotions bouncing all over the place.

Moments passed though she was not aware of them, lost to her lust as she drank from Grant. She usually didn’t like her mother to watch, had never let Kennedy watch when she was younger, but today she didn’t care.

His blood was good, but it wasn’t Josh’s or Godwin’s. She had to force herself to drink until the knotting in her stomach went away. She had wanted to stop, wanted to drink from one of her lovers instead. A tiny tingle of desire at the thought of Josh’s blood in her mouth ignited and she pushed it into that box with all of her guilt and self hatred. She shoved her guilt at feeding from a Wren other than Josh into the box as well, though it continued to grow even as she pushed it away.

She sighed, pushing Grant’s wrist away when she felt sated. Her arm burned and itched as it knit itself back together. Her eyes were still red and her fangs were still out, though.

“Seneca,” Kennedy asked, her voice continually sounding concerned. “You okay?”

She nodded, feeling sluggish. “Yeah, I just, I want to lie down for a little while, is that okay?”

“Of course,” Kennedy insisted. She took Seneca to her old room. She could hear Grant and her mother talking as she made herself comfortable, her room looking just like she’d left it when she moved out years ago.

She felt weird, tired and slow and cold. She never felt the cold, but she felt it now. She began to shiver, climbing under the covers. She buried herself into the bed, closing her eyes tightly, longing for Godwin’s heat beside her.

Her eyes flew open and she sat straight up in bed. Godwin! She was supposed to meet him, what time was it? Oh, god, she fretted, her stomach dropping. She missed it. She must have fallen asleep! Her guilt built up and she felt sick at the thought of making Godwin worry for her.

She heard voices from the other room. There was laughter and she recognized Olivia’s instantly. There was a bassy response.

Godwin was here! He was here. She jumped out of bed and ran from the room, skidding around the corner. Olivia and Godwin sat at the table across from one another. Her stomach dropped even lower as panic set in. Olivia and Godwin were both here.

At a loss of what to do, she just stood there stupidly. “I…you…?”

“Seneca,” Kennedy said from the sink, rushing over to her. “You passed out! Feeling better now? How’s your arm? Godwin and Olivia both got here, almost at the same time.”

Godwin looked fabulous, dressed in suit so brown it was almost black, pinstriped with the same color green to match her sweater. He sat in Kennedy’s cramped kitchen, looking out of place surrounded by the old white appliances. He looked absolutely spectacular. A pang of lust flickered to life in her core and she clenched her needy loins. He caught her eye, a knowing smile on his face.

She turned from him, looking at Olivia instead. Olivia was wearing her typical attire, worn-out jeans and a ratty t-shirt that Seneca was sure she had gotten from a second hand shop. This particular shirt had a cartoon beaver on it with a speech bubble declaring ‘Save a beaver, eat a tree’. Seneca rolled her eyes at Olivia’s shirt.

“What are you wearing?” she asked her friend, unable to stop herself.

Olivia laughed out loud, the sound soothing to Seneca’s battered emotions. “Do you like my shirt? I just got this one. Can you believe it was only a buck? Isn’t it great?”

“Yes, Olivia, I can totally believe it was only a buck. What’s that even supposed to mean, anyway? I think they got it backwards,” Seneca replied wryly.

“Oh, I think it’s perfect. You know, if people take the advice on my shirt, there will be more beavers left for me, right?” she replied unabashedly. Seneca rolled her eyes as her friend’s logic.

“Olivia!” Kennedy chided with obvious embarrassment.

Godwin smiled that slappable, knowing smile, then pushed a chair out for her, motioning her to sit. “How is your arm?” he asked her, careful not to touch her. Her heart squeezed tightly at his obvious avoidance.

She flexed her hand, then moved her arm about. “It feels good. Sore, painful, but better,” she said, relieved that her arm was finally healing. How did normal people live with this for weeks?  

“Oh my god, Seneca! Kennedy filled me in on what happened! Chip is such an asshole. I’m glad Kennedy is pressing charges! I can’t believe he tried to kidnap you, that he treated you so badly that he sprained your wrist! What a…I hate him, Seneca. I want to…oh, if I ever see him again, I’m gonna give him what for.”

“He will pay,” Godwin insisted firmly. Seneca shivered at the threat in his voice, glad it wasn’t directed at her.

“He will pay to the full extent of the law,” Kennedy insisted, looking directly at Godwin as she said it. They locked gazes, battling without words. She smiled to herself. She had just known Kennedy would like him.

Tension ramped up as her lover and her mother faced off. Olivia kicked her under the table. “Hey,” she mouthed, using their distraction. She raised her eyebrows suggestively and Seneca’s face caught fire.

“Seneca and I need to use the bathroom,” Olivia interrupted Kennedy and Godwin’s silent standoff. They both looked at her and Olivia, and the tension fleeted quickly.

“You…both need to use the restroom?” Godwin said, a look of confusion on his handsome features. In the harsh white lighting of Kennedy’s kitchen, his skin almost looked like toffee, despite his strong vanilla scent floated enticingly around her. She wanted to lick that spot on his throat, the one that made him moan out loud when she paid it attention.

Olivia grabbed her hand and dragged her down the hallway. She could hear Kennedy explaining what it meant when two girls ‘needed to use the bathroom’.

Olivia pushed her into the bathroom and shoved the door shut behind them. “Oh my god, Seneca! Your dark horse is so freaking hot, and I don’t even like men! Where did you find this guy? He looks like he just stepped out of a gangster movie!” she gushed.

“He is pretty hot, isn’t he,” Seneca agreed coyly.

“He is! And he saved you, just like in a movie. OMJesus, Seneca! How was he? Last night?”

“Olivia!” she exclaimed in hushed tones. “Shut up!”

“Tell me, Seneca. Tell me,” she begged, her whole body wiggling in anticipation. “Is he hung? Did he fuck your brains out?”

“Liv! I was hurt!” she defended. She could feel her blush creeping down her neck.

“So he had you be on top,” she said knowingly, winking conspiratorially.

Could she blush any harder? “Liv!” she hissed again.

“Tell me it’s not true.”

Seneca couldn’t lie to her friend. She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, avoiding looking at Olivia.

“Ah ha! I was right. Does he usually fuck your brains out?” her friend persisted.

“Last night was our first time!” she said defensively, realizing her mistake as she spoke.

Olivia smiled broadly. “You dog!” she exclaimed too loudly. Seneca shushed her harshly. “You really like this guy, Seneca! OMJesus, you do,” she whispered loudly. “Well, I approve.”

Olivia moved to open the door. “Wait,” Seneca hissed, moving to close the door. She recognized the look on her best friend’s face. “What are you going to do?”

Olivia smiled wickedly. “Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Then tell me, was it good?” Olivia needled her. “If you don’t, I’ll ask him. In front of Kennedy!”

“Olivia!” she hissed. “Fine, fine, just…shut up. He was good.”

“Just good?” her friend said suggestively, her eyebrow raised expertly.

Seneca bit her bottom lip to hide her smile. “He was amazing. It was..I’ve never had…I didn’t know it could feel so good, Liv,” she admitted with a secret smile.

“You’d better keep this one,” Olivia said with a final nod. “He’s got good style, he’s hot, and he treats you like a princess.”

Seneca’s heart was full, yet broken. “He doesn’t like me that way, I think. I think this is just a fling for him,” she said sadly, looking away from her friend. He doesn’t love me, she thought, but didn’t say aloud. It would hurt too much to say aloud.

“You are insane in the membrane, Seneca. He’s head over heels for you. I know a good thing when I see it,” she insisted, grabbing Seneca’s good hand. She pulled her in for a hug, squeezing her hard. “I was so worried about you!”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, hugging her best friend back.

“Shut it,” Olivia snapped, hugging her even harder. “Never apologize for this, not ever again. I’m gonna kick Chip’s ass if I ever see him again.”

Seneca was crying again. Why did she always cry? God, she hated it, and hated herself for not being stronger. She was sobbing against Olivia’s shoulder and her friend held her tightly. She felt Godwin’s spectral touch on her neck around his collar, so faint that she wondered if it was really there or if she was just imagining it.

“You know,” Olivia said after a moment, “I’m think I’m gonna punch him in his perfect abs, and then I’m gonna punch in him those horrible horsey teeth. I’ve always hated his stupid horsey teeth. I don’t even care if it hurts my hands, as long as I can mess up those stupid teeth.”

Seneca laughed and sobbed at the same time and Olivia joined her. Godwin’s touch lingered on her collar, at least she thought it did. The touch gave her strength. They pulled apart and Seneca found some toilet paper to wipe her face and blow her nose. “How bad do I look?” she asked her friend.

“Honestly? You look like shit. No, let me change that. Actually, you look like you just survived an attempted kidnapping and some ‘crazy as shit’ grade domestic violence. So, since that’s exactly what happened, you look great.”

Seneca laughed and splashed some water on her face. The cool water helped her eyes feel a little less puffy. She dried her face and turned to her friend.

“You ready?”  Olivia asked her.

“Not really,” she admitted with a sigh.

“Sen, it’s all good. Everything is going to be okay,” Olivia insisted, hugging her again.

“I know,” she said, and for a moment, she believed it.

The Game Chapter 17: The Next Morning

The Game Chapter 19: Healing