The Catacombs (Cult 2)

She’d cleaned up her makeup while I’d been out of the room, so now the streaks of mascara were gone from underneath her eyes. But they still looked tired, like she was anxious for bed. I’d never appreciated her beauty before because I had more important things to worry about it, but now I could see it. Whether it was her best day or her worst, her eyes glowed like the lights of the Eiffel Tower. Whether she was secure or scared, she was magnetic. “It was fine. What did you guys watch?”

“A Christmas movie. She was so hyper until we got the TV on. Then she was out like a light.”

I gave a quiet chuckle. “You’ve discovered the secret weapon of parenting.”

She chuckled too.

“Ready for bed?”

She ran her fingers through her hair again, getting it away from her face, doing something so simple but so elegant at the same time. She possessed a grace that seemed angelic at times. She always stood straight, always covered herself with subtle jewelry, always impregnated the room with her elegance the second she stepped into it. She gave a nod. “Can I sleep with you?”

I already had a girl who needed me for every aspect of her life. The last thing I wanted was to be emotionally responsible for another person, but with Constance, it didn’t feel like a burden. The world was an unsafe place full of demons, and I was the one spot she could call home. She needed me and wasn’t afraid to show it. She used me to feel better—and I liked feeling used. I was a drug to her, a high she couldn’t get anywhere else, a comfort no other man could provide. “I assumed you would.”

Her exhale showed her relief, the way her lungs emptied as if she was about to drift off to sleep. There was always a look of appreciation on her face, like a night alone in her room was practically unbearable. I was the only thing standing in the way between her and Forneus—and the closer I was, the better.

We went into my room and got into bed. She stripped down to her thong before she got comfortable under the sheets, and I kept my boxers on as I slid into the spot beside her. Our passionate afternoon had been enough for me, and she seemed tired after falling asleep on the couch.

My sleep schedule was all over the place now, and after the afternoon nap I’d taken, I wasn’t exactly tired. I turned on the TV and watched it on low, and she immediately knocked out on her side of the bed. She faced me on her side, the sheets pulled to her shoulder, and her breaths were instantly quiet, like it took less than a minute for her to fall into her dreams.

It took an hour for me to get tired enough to fall asleep, and I hit the button on the remote before I closed my eyes and felt my mind surrender to my dreams. But it seemed to last only a minute before I was pulled back into consciousness.

“It’s not real…it’s not real.”

My eyes opened to see Constance beside me, her body shaking like she was cold, her eyes shut tight.

“No…I won’t take it.” Her arm flung out, fighting an invisible enemy, her lungs starting to gasp for air.

“Constance.” I grabbed her wrist so she wouldn’t accidentally smack herself in the face.

She threw her other arm too, trying to break free of my hold. “Fuck off!” She kicked in the bed, hitting me in the thigh under the sheets. “Die! Just fucking die.”

I grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them against her stomach. “Come on, just a dream.” I gave her a shake, pulling her out of her trance.

Her eyes flashed open, and she gave a deep gasp.

I kept the pressure on her wrists and held her in place.

She looked like a wild animal in the forest, running for her life, getting caught in the beam from the flashlight. She wanted to hop back into her hole and bury herself deep underground to safety.

“It’s Benton.”

Without blinking her eyes, she took me in, the vision slowly fading from her mind. With every breath, the rigid muscles of her body began to relax. Her resistance against my hands faded. A sense of safety washed over her when she recognized me, when she remembered where she was.

I let her go.

She darted for my chest, her arm circling my neck, her leg hooking over my hip. Her face found its place in the crook of my neck, her deep breaths dispersing across my skin.

My instinct was to push her off, but I chose to let her stay. I lay back on the pillow with her, her svelte body pressed against mine, her small tits near my chest. My fingers found their way into the back of her hair, and I stroked the strands as I waited for her breathing to go back to normal.