La Posada --Chapter 11 --PG-13

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librarian_7
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La Posada --Chapter 11 --PG-13

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Disclaimer: I don't own Josef. He thinks he owns freshie Lucky, but I do.

La Posada

Chapter 11


The cell phone rang just before midnight. That surprised Lucky, and she grabbed groggily for it on the bedside table. She’d expected an hour or two more grace, before he called, if he called, and even though she’d cried herself out long before, she still wasn’t sure what to say to Josef. Or what he’d say to her. She hit the button to answer. “Hey.”

His response was unexpected. “What’s wrong, doll?”

“Josef. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Glad to know it, but you’re evading.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Have I ever been able to stop you?”

She thought she heard a hint of a smile in his voice, but they both knew his answer had been disingenuous. “You’re a busy man, and important man. Why do you bother so much with us, with me?”

“Maybe I like to play with my food.”

“It’s a serious question.”

Josef snorted. “Sweetheart, I defy you to find any man—one who likes women—who wouldn’t want to spend a little time talking to a pretty girl dressed in a satin nightgown. Speaking of, what color are you wearing tonight?”

“Garnet.”

“Garnet. Haven’t seen that one yet. Sounds…enticing. No one lives in satin the way you do, doll.”

“Thanks, but—“

“But you’re still dodging the question. I can tell you’ve been crying, Luck, it’s in your voice. So give.”

“I’m not sure it’s anything I can talk to you about.”

“Try me. I can be remarkably open-minded.”

“I—damn, Josef, this is hard.” She could hear her voice was close to breaking again, now that she tried to speak. “Maybe I did a bad thing.”

Josef’s answer was succinct. “Somehow I doubt it.”

“Marla tells me I did.”

“In the course of my acquaintanceship with Marla, she has impressed me as about the last person whose opinion ought to carry any weight. With you or anyone else. And what is this terrible crime you’re supposed to have committed?”

Lucky gulped. “I may have gotten Sam Logan killed,” she said.

“Sam Logan? That freshie boy?”

“Yes.”

“He’s dead?”

“I don’t know. Probably not—not yet. But they dragged him away. Sent him back home, and it was too soon, and, oh, Josef, his vamp, she does horrible things to him.”

“And this is your fault how?”

Lucky paused, unwilling to go on.

Josef waited patiently for a bit, then said, “Tell me. And don’t even think about trying to lie to me, doll.”

“Josef, Marla—Marla said it was my fault for getting you involved. That it was all on your orders.”

The vampire uttered an oath in a language the freshie couldn’t identify. She wished she could have seen his face, so often a better gauge of his emotions than his voice. There was a silence that seemed to stretch on for hours, though Lucky knew it was probably only a few seconds. When Josef spoke again, his voice was very gentle.

“You’ve talked to the boy since I was there, haven’t you?”

“Yes. He sat across the table from me at a meal.”

“And he mentioned me?”

“He—he said you visited him. You scared him, Josef. He wouldn’t have done anything to go against you. He wouldn’t have dared.”

“Then I want you to ask yourself one thing, babe. I got up from your side to go intimidate him. If I simply meant to have him disposed of, would I have wasted time I could have spent with you?”

This time, Lucky was the silent one, digesting the response. There was nothing there she could argue with, nothing she could question. Josef let it sink in for a few more seconds.

“Lucky, we’re not done here, but I need to make a call or two. Don’t go to sleep on me.” He didn’t wait for her agreement or goodbyes.

When the phone rang again, half an hour later, Josef started by coming to the point. “Lucky, tell me what you’re doing right now.”

“Talking on the phone with you,” she replied promptly.

“Yes, but where? In a chair, on the sofa, in bed?”

“In bed. Under the covers. Nights here are cold, Josef.” In truth, she’d been pacing the room, staring out the terrace doors into the brilliant night sky above the looming blackness of the mountains until a few minutes before, but the chill of the evening had driven her to the shelter of her blankets.

“Tell me how you’re lying. Back? Side?” His voice was no-nonsense, businesslike, even if the question was hardly crucial, as far as she could tell.

“Josef, are we playing one of your games?”

“Sounds that way. Are you going to answer my last question?”

“In a minute. Why now?”

Josef sighed softly and she heard him take a drink. The sound of him swallowing sent a shiver of desire running down her spine. “Sweetheart, if you were here, what would you be wanting tonight? After all this distress?”

What she really wanted were answers, particularly to the question, “is Sam safe?” She knew better than to introduce the topic, however, so she replied slowly, “I don’t know. To be comforted. To feel you feeding on me.”

The vampire took another drink. “Before you ask, blood and scotch.” He paused. “You do know that if I could, I’d have you in my lap right now, with my fangs in your skin. I’m damned if I know why you find that comforting, but I can certainly live with it.”

“Maybe it just lets me know that I’m needed.”

Josef was silent for a long moment, then said softly. “I know, Lucky, I know.”

Lucky found her eyes filling with tears, again. She had to keep from breaking down, she thought. “In answer to your question, I’m lying on my side, Josef,” she said. However he intended to divert her, she was in need of it now.

“Hmm, if I know you, curled up tight in a little ball.” Josef sounded amused. She wondered a little about his comment, but supposed he’d looked in on her asleep from time to time.

“Have I mentioned that it’s cold here?”

“All right, Lucky, here’s what I want you to do.” He took a drink, picturing the scene himself. If this was going to work, he had to see it as clearly as she did. “Close your eyes.”

“All right.”

His voice was low, hypnotic. “I want you to listen, just listen to me, hear my voice. I’m right there, whispering in your ear, you can feel the air move, feel the cool breath of my words.” She thought she could listen to him for hours, would gladly do so, and had no thought of rebelling against the steady tones that insinuated themselves past her consciousness directly into the back of her brain. Whatever that voice told her, she would believe. It was impossible to resist. “Now, slowly, stretch out those pretty long legs. Slide them down between the sheets, as far as you can. I’m lying right behind you, Lucky, can you feel me there? Feel my chest against your back, my legs behind your legs. The whole length of my body against yours.”

Doing as instructed, she stretched, luxuriated in the soft sheets. And as she reached full extension, she did feel as though there were a solid presence behind her. She leaned back slightly against him, so glad of the sensation of his cool skin against hers. Her eyes snapped open in astonishment. “I feel you,” she whispered. “How are you doing this?”

“Keep your eyes closed, sweetheart. Just keep your eyes closed and listen.” Josef took a sip of his drink. He could almost see the ghostly shape of the mortal woman there with him, almost feel her shimmering life force before him. “Curl back up, just a little. Let me feel that sweet behind snuggling up to me.”

She didn’t answer, but his sensitive ears picked up the sound of sheets rustling softly, and the gentlest of sighs. In his mind’s eye, he could see her relaxing, that inexplicable sense of serenity in his presence he often got from her beginning to suffuse through him.

“Can you feel my arms around you, Lucky? Can you feel me holding you, protecting you from the night?” Almost without thought, his thumb began to describe circles against his forefinger.

Maybe it was the bond between them, the blood he had taken from her in the past, but she felt him, felt the reassuring strength of his embrace. Her tension was flowing away, lost in the currents between them. “Josef, I can almost feel your touch on my throat, over my pulse, just a light stroke.”

“Tell me about it.”
“It’s how you do, you know? Just a slow circle, on my throat, right over my scars. You know it makes me melt.” Lucky felt a little heat in her face, wondered if she was blushing.

“I had noticed.” Josef’s voice held only dry amusement. He looked down at his hand, the slight movement of his thumb continuing as he watched it, thinking about the soft skin he had caressed so often. Lucky’s throat, those of others, a parade stretching back in time even as they stretched and preened under his touch. He wasn’t sure what made it bearable, what made him go on, were it not for the all too rare times when his emotions were caught. He tried to think of his freshies as food only, but it was difficult. Some years, more than others. He’d had enough of this blood diluted with scotch that sat by his hand. He needed to feed, and he needed to feel the reality of flesh beneath his fangs. Now. “Lucky,” he said, “sweetheart, will you sleep?”

“Yes,” she said, voice drowsy. “Josef?” He waited for the question he knew she wanted to ask, but she only said, “Thank you.”

“One last thing,” the vampire said. “For now, your friend Sam is…safe.”
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darkstarrising
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Re: La Posada --Chapter 11 --PG-13

Post by darkstarrising »

Wow! Josef is more talented than I thought. Phone sex is one thing, but he's done one better - getting Lucky to relax by listening to the sound of his voice, giving her the impression that he's right there with her, holding her, protecting her. Josef really does care for Lucky, more than even he's willing to admit.

But what about Sam? He's safe, 'for now'?
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