Awake And Lost

Harper pushes in eagerly, the thick head of his cock nudging in. Erica is so wet, so ready. She can't remember ever wanting anything more than this; his naked body above her, inside of her. She shuts her eyes against the tide of want.

His fists tangle in the sheets beside her head, clenching his fingers as he pants hotly against her lips.

"God, do it," she pleads, opening her eyes to stare up at him.

There's a pause, and Harper's breath hitches. He's still a bit sluggish from when Erica hazed his mind earlier. Later he'll believe this to just be a dream. He wobbles and nearly slips out, so Erica slides her leg up and shoves her hips forward, forcing him to completely penetrate her at last.

Harper moans, one hand coming down to grip her thigh while the other squeezes her breast. His hips stutter against hers, short hard thrusts that have Erica keening and

gushing

around his cock and writhes with shocks of uncontrollable pleasure.

"You're so tight dream girl," Harper murmurs, eyes closed and thumbing at her nipple, "so wet and

tight

."

"Shut up," Erica tells him, focusing on the pleasure of him touching her, moving inside of her. "Shut up,

shut up

."

It's never been like this with Riley, and Erica wouldn't

want

it to be. She only ever wants to feel like this with Harper. Feel everything. She took a life before she came here for that reason alone; she's as good as alive thanks to that guy lurking in the park. Well, sort of.

It can't last long, not with Harper hazed and so

ready

. He thrusts erratically into Erica, grunting with the effort of fucking her into the bed. She comes again, crying out as she rocks her hips up into his.

As Harper pounds faster, spurting deep inside, she rolls them over and pins his wrists above his head.

"That's the last time you take me like that," Erica says, and grinds her hips down until his orgasm passes and his hips stop spasming, until his dick starts to go soft inside of her.

"Stop," he whines, head thrashing, "

too much

."

Erica kisses him one last time before pulling away. "Good boy," she whispers and bends down to stroke his messy dark hair affectionately.

She hazes Harper until he falls asleep. Pliant from his orgasm as he is, he's more vulnerable to the suggestion, so it doesn't take much power.

"One day I'll tie you up to this bed and just fucking use you."

*

Riley glares down at the boy, blissed out and deeply asleep. He's going to kill him someday, there's no doubt about it.

Nick smiles, flipping through Harper's tattered music book. Riley stands stiffly off to the side, furious that they got here moments after Erica fled. "Kid's got talent though," Nick says, "I've been dead two-hundred and fifteen years and even

I'm

impressed."

Riley scowls and slaps the book out of his hand.

Nick sighs. "Lighten

up

, Riles. She's

tethered

to you." He glances around, sniffing a little. The smell of sex is palpable. Riley must be going nuts, it makes Nick grin. "She's yours, what's she gonna do, kill you and run off with the kid?" He scoffs. Riley clenches his jaw and doesn't answer.

"You know," Nick goes on, "if you wanted her all to yourself you should've just chained her up like I suggested in the first place."

Riley ignores him. "What's the word on Marcus's death?"

Nick was waiting for him to mention it. "You'll be happy to know that the Contingent believes Ehren tried to break the tether. The boy was newly turned, so it's likely he wouldn't have known he'd be killing himself by murdering Marcus."

"Thank you," Riley says, turning around. "It's still hard to believe you're a part of the Contingent, Nicholas."

"For you and me both,

Ryland

," Nick agrees. "You're just lucky it wasn't a stretch, and that you have friends in high places."

Morning's not far off now. Nick will let Riley sulk a few moments more, then they have to get the hell out of here.

"I'll kill him," Riley states resolutely, staring at the bed like he can still see her in it with the boy.

Nick rolls his eyes. "Familial loyalty is dead."

*

Harper writes for

days

. He writes so much music he worries he'll run out of space in his book.

Of course, he also doesn't leave the apartment in all that time. But he's hit on

something

here, has felt it ever since that dream he had the other night. Harper shakes his head and scribbles faster. He's so focused on getting the words and music out and written that he almost misses the phone ringing.

"Yeah?" He answers on the fifth ring.

"I hope that's not how you're answering the phone these days," his mother reprimands on the line. "What if a job comes through? What if it's someone important?"

"No ma', I got caller-ID, I knew it would be you," he lies.

He misses some of what she says, too distracted by the incessant buzz of inspiration. It's lucky he can answer her usual questions on auto-pilot.

Yes

, he's eating healthy,

no

he hasn't met anyone yet,

yes

he's still sure he wants to do the "music thing",

no

he hasn't been mugged, that news report was in a different area.

An hour goes by and Harper's dying to get off the phone. Not that he doesn't love the woman, but

man

she can be a chatterbox.

"I miss you sweetheart, I'm glad you're doing well up there." She sniffles. "I love you, be good, be

safe

," she tells him, heartfelt, and Harper suddenly feels like the biggest asshole.

"I know, you too ma', love you too," Harper says and hangs up. He really does miss her, chatterbox and mild paranoia and all.

It's only been four months, but it feels like a lifetime. Being an only kid, his mother was always a bit overprotective. And she still hasn't forgiven him for not going to college, and then moving to the city

of all place

s to become a musician.

But he'd persisted.

"I'm twenty-two mom. I have money saved up to get me by, I'll be fine."

He was doing okay. He just missed home a little, a lot. He'd be fine.

Harper picks up his book and continues writing the song he's been fixated on; about a girl that stole him in dreams.

*

A week goes by and Riley still can't pin Erica. She's been on the move constantly since her night with Harper. Riley knows she's doing it to confuse his senses and strain the tether. As though he wasn't pissed as it was before; he

hates

when she plays hide and seek. It's not often that she does this, but it's fucking

maddening

when she does.

Riley plans to take Nick's advice, chain her to his bed, have her, make sure not to let her get away this time.

He's going to

show

her who she belongs to.

*

Harper has a gig at a small coffee shop called The Buzz Cafe. It pays more in free coffee than cash, but he loves it.

That night after he finishes his set, he spots a familiar face in the far back. Harper can't put his finger on who she is. He doesn't have a lot of friends in the city and the few he does have don't really care about his music. When he seeks her out again she's gone. Harper rubs his eyes and puts his guitar back in its case.

Mara, the barista that got him the gig here, calls him over to the bar. She's a sweet, round lady, and reminds him so much of his mother that he felt comfortable around her right away. "Nice set, new originals?"

"A few, mostly covers until I have more songs finished," Harper tells her.

Mara smiles, "I liked the one about the dream girl."

Harper ducks his head, feeling a little embarrassed about that one, personal as it is, when someone slides into the stool beside him.

Mara frowns, glances oddly between them and then walks away. Harper's heart races and he can't seem to bring himself to see who it is.

"I like your music," comes the soft voice from beside him. "You're very talented."

He swallows around the lump in his throat and replies with a tight, "Thank you." He still can't turn to look at her for some reason. The girl shifts closer though, leaning over to peer at his face.

"Who did you write that song for?" Her voice is a wisp of a thing, sweet and timid and

wrong

somehow.

A hand slides high up on his thigh, nails raking lightly over the material of his jeans. Harper feels his dick twitch at the contact. This is

ridiculous

.

"Do I know you?" He asks abruptly, forcing himself to turn and face her. Her hand falls away as she stares back at him in surprise. She's pretty, Harper notes, with her light brown hair and wide dark eyes. Her face is so familiar, like an ache in his chest, a fist curling around his heart. "Do I know you?" He repeats softly, wonderingly.

She stares at him a moment more before rising from her seat, biting her bottom lip nervously. "I have to go," she says, then rushes to the back exit.

"Wait!" Harper jumps up and follows after her, heart racing.

He bounds out the door, eyes searching frantically until he's pushed against the wall beside the exit. It's her, eyes glinting in the empty, shadowed alley. She pulls him up against the wall by his shirt until his feet are hardly touching the ground.

"What are you doing?" Harper starts, terrified and confused.

"I can't," she whispers, eyes wide. When she sucks in a breath Harper sees what looks like, but

can't possibly be

, the points of fangs. "I can't let you go, I can't." She dips her head close, grazing her teeth over his jaw and Harper freezes.

"Harper," she moans.

"How," Harper stops, gulps. "How do you know my name?"

The girl rubs a hand up his chest and holds it over his heart, suddenly, a flood of dreamy glimpses of skin, and eyes, and

fangs

wash over his mind. Harper gasps, shutting his eyes. "I remember."

Reality shifts, dreams, dreams that weren't dreams. He can't move, can't even

think

. And then he looks at

her

only to see her smiling.

"I

remember

," he snarls and starts to struggle in her hold.

She lets him go, pulls back as though struck. Harper stumbles, feeling off-kilter and utterly weak, and has to lean against the wall for support. "It was you," he says, his voice is a mixture of awe and anger, "the kisses, the sex, the

dreams

."

She stares at the ground; quiet like

she's

the one that's been wounded. Harper feels sick but he also has an insane urge to pull her closer.

Fuck

. "What did you do to me?" He demands, frantic. "Who are you?

What

are you?"

She lifts her head and takes a step towards him, stopping when Harper flinches away. "I'm Erica," she says, face kept carefully blank. "I'm a vampire."

Harper gawks. "You're

insane

." And he thinks he might be as well, because he

believes

her.

"Yeah," Erica laughs hollowly.

"I want you to stay the fuck away from me," Harper tells her, and his voice shakes, too many emotions rising up like bile. He still can't believe this is happening. "Get away from me, just, just

leave me alone. Fuck

."

She shakes her head, eyes desperate. "I can't. I

can't

."

"Please." Another rush of memories sweeps through him, naked bodies writhing together, details filling in of too many nights of stolen kisses. The song makes more sense, he thinks crazily. All the ways she's known him, and he never even knew it was happening till now. "Erica," he pleads. "Stay

away

."

At her name she whimpers, bowing her head and moving back into the shadows.

Harper slides down against the wall until he's sitting on the cement. The memories become clearer and clearer. He doesn't know how long he sits there, trying to process it all, all he knows is that he doesn't move until the sun rises.