Helena heard her door close softly but didn’t bother to turn around, nor did she even bother to ask how he’d gotten through the locked door. She could feel him behind her; his presence enveloped her like a fog. A knot formed in her throat and her heart began to pound but she swallowed the fear. Instead of showing any reaction she continued to type away at her thesis. Helena had been expecting him all evening since their little encounter in his room when he’d caught her snooping through his belongings. Leave it to her roommate to choose this night to spend with her boyfriend.
Minutes ticked by and neither spoke a word. The only sounds in the room were her typing and the noise from the party going on in the first floor common room. She’d expected him to speak by now and his silence was unnerving. Although she could probably try and scream out for help, something within her prevented it.
“Go away, Julian,” she said finally, trying her best to sound nonchalant, “I’m in no mood to deal with you.” The young woman was tired of his games, tired of playing along. This had gone on long enough, and she somehow had to end it. She held her breath as her words were only met with silence. Doing her best to keep her hand from shaking noticeably, Helena continued to type. The only response to her words was the hollow moan of the wind outside where a storm was brewing.
“What were you thinking tonight, Helena?” His velvety voice was barely raised above a whisper, but it held a note of deadly irritation.
Helena sucked in a deep breath. “At what point?” She attempted to keep her voice at an even, conversational tone. “I think a great many things, you know.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Williams,” he warned.
Helena glanced over her shoulder with a genuine expression of annoyance on her pretty face. She hated how he always addressed her by her last name. Helena’s composure almost faltered when her eyes fell upon him.
Standing in the center of her room with all the aloofness of a tom cat, arms crossed over his bare, muscular chest, he was bathed in the light of her sputtering vanilla scented candle and the glow of the computer monitor. He was dressed only in black jeans and a rumpled black shirt hanging open to the waist. His feet were bare and damp from having crossed the grassy courtyard between the men’s and women’s dorm halls. The candle flame reflected in his gray eyes eerily, his full lips twisted in anger. His shoulder length hair fell over the right side of his face and shimmered like spun gold. The pale blue light of the computer monitor exaggerated his paleness. He appeared wraith-like in the gloom. Helena half expected ethereal organ music to emerge out of nowhere and accompany the scene.
She compelled herself to look away, and even managed a desultory roll of her eyes as she did so. Yes, she was frightened, terrified to be precise, of the man she suspected to have had something to do with the bizarre murders around campus. But he was undeniably beautiful, and if she did not turn away she knew she would go to him. He was halfway across the room but her body reacted as if he were standing directly behind her.
“Okay, I won’t,” she blurted out. At least she had managed to sound emotionless, even as her heart pounded in her ears.
“Obviously you need to learn some respect.” His voice was cold, dry.
Lightning flashed outside, punctuated by the rumble of thunder. Helena started slightly. Praying he hadn’t noticed, she attempted to call his bluff. “Sure. Right. I need to be punished. You are going to kill me. Blah blah blah.” His threats when he’d noticed she was following him around had convinced her that he indeed was the killer, or at least one of them. But no one would believe her. He was the son of a state senator, she needed proof… but becoming his next victim was not the proof she’d had in mind.
Encouraged by the ensuing silence, she continued, “I’ve heard this all before, Julian. Really, if you were a girl you’d be labeled a tease.” Once again she turned her head to peer at him over her shoulder through her tangle of sable curls. He hadn’t moved, but his face registered the shock he felt over what she’d said. Emboldened by his confusion she whipped her head back around and waved him off with an imperious flick of her wrist. “Get out! I’m too busy for your games.”
A shriek of pain escaped her as her hair was seized and her head pulled back, forcing her to gaze into his wrathful countenance. Something cold bit into the tender flesh of her throat and she froze, her eyes widening. Her body turned to dead weight as the reality of the situation flooded her consciousness. Another bolt of lightning invaded the sanctuary with brilliance. With a crackle of thunder rain began pounding upon the window, drowning out all other ambient sound.
“Games, are they, Williams?” From the sound of his voice she would have believed he was teasing her if she couldn’t feel the blade biting into her neck. Uncontrollable shivers coursed her body. “Seems I’ve been a bit too soft on you.”
“Stand up,” he ordered. But before she could move to obey he was dragging the young woman to her feet with the pressure on her hair, the blade still digging into her neck. Her legs had all the strength of dried grass as she willed herself to stand. When Julian kicked the chair from between them, smashing it against the wall as a simultaneous crack of thunder swallowed the sound, she fell back against him with a gasp. Forced to release the handful of curls, he now supported her with his arm tightly around her torso, pinning her arms to her sides. The blade still pressed at her throat, though the force behind it was not as intense.
Julian’s breath caressed her cheek as he looked down at her. She closed her eyes tight, shutting him out of her mind; fearful he would see the truth of her feelings that lurked beneath her terror. Withholding that truth, which even she herself had only begun to acknowledge, seemed to be her only weapon at the moment. There was nothing she could do about his awareness of her fear, she was sure he could sense it, as a predator smells the fear of his prey. Predator. Prey. The acceptance of what their relationship had become offered Helena no comfort.
Pressing his smooth cheek against her forehead he squeezed her tightly to him. “A-are you going to kill me?” she whispered. A lock of his hair had fallen over her face, and she realized he smelled like the sweet fragrance of spring carried on the breeze of late winter.
“M-m-m-m… perhaps,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose against her cheekbone. Julian’s tenderness was disconcerting. “You’ve already concluded I am a killer, it’s what I am supposed to do, isn’t it?” Helena felt herself consumed with the feeling that she was falling away from herself, that her consciousness was leaving behind her rational side. She fought to hang on as he tickled her cheek with feathery kisses. “But you know, I haven’t yet decided.” A sound somewhere between a chuckle and a growl emerged from his throat.
Another clap of thunder startled Helena and she jumped. Her computer shut down as the power went out just then. Below on the first floor she could hear the partiers hooting and booing in protest. Only the flickering candle flame now lighted the room.
Breathe, Helena,
she instructed herself.
You can find a way out of this.
Doing her best to ignore the sensations his kisses aroused in her as he trailed his lips across her face, the young woman glanced about until her eyes found the one thing she’d forgotten. A metal letter opener lay on her desk right next to the assignment she’d been working on. It wasn’t much, but it was something and was only a mere arm’s reach away. If only…
Julian’s lips found hers, and though what remained of her cogent mind screamed out in protest, she gave herself unto that kiss. His mouth was so gentle as it played over hers. The world around her faded into the background and for a moment all Helena knew was Julian’s lips. Involuntarily, she whimpered into him as she opened her mouth to accept his tongue.
Now! Her mind shrieked out as she felt the arm that wielded the blade move away from her throat. He must have felt her tense because just as she was about to clamp her teeth down on Julian’s tongue he jerked his head back. Although she’d not managed to cause him any pain, she had managed to startle him and seized the moment. Ignoring the disappointment she felt in the lost contact, she smashed her elbow into his ribs with all her remaining strength. He roared in pain and outrage, and the dagger fell from his hand, hitting the floor with a clatter.
Helena leaped forward grabbing at the letter opener, but her legs tangled in her long white nightdress and she fell to her knees slamming her chin on the edge of the desk and cracking her teeth together. For a moment the pain obliterated her consciousness and all went white. Before she could recover Julian pushed her to the floor, his knee in her back. Grabbing her at the tender spot on her wrist between arm and hand he squeezed hard causing her to scream and her hand to unwillingly release the weapon. He flicked the instrument away with his hand sending it skittering across the bare floor to where it stopped beneath a nearby bureau. Helena realized all was lost. Weak and sobbing, she allowed herself to be dragged into a standing position by the wrists he held together in one strong hand.
“Stupid fucking bitch,” raged Julian through his clenched teeth between labored breaths. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She didn’t answer, but inclined her wet face away from him, her eyes shut tightly.
This wasn’t the way he wanted it, the way he’d played it out in his mind ever since the first time he’d met her and seen the beauty she attempted to hind behind unruly hair and baggy clothes. But he’d discovered that Helena Williams always found a way to make things more difficult than they really needed to be.
“Tears won’t help you, Helena,” he said softly, using the tip of the dagger to turn her face toward him. “Look at me.” She obeyed, and he momentarily lost himself in the beauty of her earthy brown eyes. Then he leaned forward and tasted the tears from her face.
Oh God, is he insane?
