Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Stunted Layali
   by Nysidra
   Occult Fantasy (MF, magic, Layali)
   <->
   Dark waves broke upon the sandy shore.  Dark waters, deep, nearly black.
The undertow would catch you at the hip and suck you in.  If this beach had
a life guard, the flag would be red, but this place lacked a guardian of
life.  No swimmers braved the waves.
   There was nothing but the beach, the stars, and her.  Night passed and
the sky above turned stormy gray and cadet blue.  Ominous clouds rolled in
low and thick, but no rain fell.  The air was moist, the wind stiff.  Her
feet made the steady march between the angry tide and the quite dunes.
   Someone watched in the distance, cloaked by the moonless night.
   ***
   Perched in the mall eatery, Kamela paused in recording last nights's
dream in time to see him enter the building.
   Dusky coal black, ephemeral wings undulated at his back.  They were like
a fog that dampened the light.  Predatory, feral, dangerous - these were
merely her impressions, but what she did see the shadows trailing him.
   In order to see them, she couldn't stand too close.  If she tried to
focus, the image dissipated.  Kamela played the game of delicate balance,
viewing the dark fog in the periphery of her vision.  Easiest to do if she
stared at him.
   He was so confident in her camouflage, that everyone accepted his air of
normalcy.  The first time she noticed the shadows, she thought it was some
kind of malfunctioning light or a hallucination.
   No.  Week after week.  The haze was not only still there, but easier to
discern.  But why would the shadows around him remind her of the coming
storm over a black ocean?  How was her mysterious man and the cryptic dream
intertwined?
   Kamela did not have to level much effort to stalk him.  Every Monday and
Friday afternoon, he visited 'Small Treasures,' the store that sold his
miniature sculptures.  Incidentally, it was also the place that sold her
6x6 paintings.  After doing business, he would visit the neighboring
stores, but he rarely made purchases.
   As for the sculptures, they were magnificent pieces of artistry: unique,
terrifying, and strangely evocative of creatures she had only seen in
dreams.  He molded most of them with clay, but there were a few crafted
from shaped metal.
   One of them she had purchased for herself.  A silvery wolf that stood no
taller than two inches.  It seemed larger than a dire wolf with a tail that
could pack a punch.  It reminded her of the beast in the tattoo on her
back. Whatever small infatuation she had for the man blossomed when she
found that wolf.
   Yes, he was handsome, alluring.  Though he had a introverted demeanor in
the mall, Kamela didn't buy it.  To her, he seemed as majestic as a storm,
as bold as a strike of lightning.  What had begun as a lazy observation of
an unusual visual distortion grew into a crush.
   He entered the food court and bought a slice a pizza.
   Too close.  Kamela snuck glances at him, but not too many, not for too
long or she would give herself away.  What if he noticed her?  What if he
discovered she came to the mall to sketch, but only to bide her time while
waiting to catch sight of him.
   She packed her notepad and pencils into her purse and strolled the mall.
As usual, she checked the sales rack.  There were some nice little dresses
included this time.  Her size.  She pushed the dresses aside and stared at
the strappy low-cut dress.
   She might wear something like that if he was waiting for her.
   Someone stood behind her.  Warm body, tall, but the person didn't move
along.
   Kamela turned and stumbled backwards onto the rack.
   He caught her around the waist, held her steady.  This was the man she
had been stalking, watching, studying, and now he was holding her.
   Fuck.  She was going to be in so much trouble now.
   "You never say hello.  Why is that?"
   She had never been close enough to hear him speak, but now she touched
him, smelled him, oh, and that voice.  Delicious and suave.  "Um..."
   "I see." He took a step back, removed his hand from her waist.  "We
should meet.  Do you already know my name?"
   She lied.  "No."
   His silver gray eyes turned hard and accusing.
   Caught out.  "Alex Dawn," she whispered, "the sculptor."
   "And you are?"
   "Kamela Damaton." Her face flushed with shame.  First she stalked the
man then lied about it when they finally got to meet.  She would be angry
too.  "I'm sorry."
   "For?"
   "Staring ...  stalking.  Lying."
   Instead of more anger, he smiled.  His cheek puffed out in a small show
of amusement.  "Kamela," he tested the name on his tongue.  "You have
beautiful eyes.  I have enjoyed having them on me."
   What about other things?  Were there any other beautiful parts of her he
wanted?  Her ears throbbed as blood rushed through her.  What now?
   A flicker of darkness behind him.  Not quite a fog, but the flutter of
raven's wings.  Drawn to the movement, she focused on the point over his
shoulder.  The shadows expanded, ducked in and out of her field of vision.
   This was real.  This shadows behind him were more clear now than they
had ever been.
   "Thank you," she mumbled and turned toward the discounted dresses.  Her
skin felt so hot.  A bead of sweat rolled down her side, pooled in the
center of her breasts.
   Everything in her wanted to run for the exit.  To go straight home and
never visit the mall again.
   'No.  Don't run.  Act normal.  Running will set him off.'
   The small whisper of reason continued, forestalling her panic.
   'He will hunt you like sport if you run.  Deep breaths.  Fear excites
them.'
   Kamela's imagination didn't care if the conclusions made any sense.  Her
past had been plagued with so many weird visions and nightmares that
reality was just another film, a weak scaffolding built around the
impossibility of her mind.
   She had thought the terrors were confined to her sleep, but no, they
could masquerade as normal people in the daylight as well.
   "What's the occasion?"
   He was still here?!
   She flinched, but hoped her reaction escaped his notice.  "None.  Just
looking."
   He moved closer.  Bubbles and butterflies swirled in her belly.  "May I
take you out tonight?"
   No.  She wouldn't dare.  She shouldn't.
   "Yes." Kamela set her hand on the top of the rack in case her knees gave
way.
   "May I?" He offered his hand and she took it.  He led her out the store
and into another.  No sales rack here.  He approached a display of
color-blocked blue / black dressed and said, "What's your size?"
   "Eight, medium." Enamored by his attention, I didn't pause to think how
odd our situation was.  How long did he know I was watching him?
   'From the start, because he is a honed predator.'
   Kamela chastised herself from that line of fanciful thinking.  He was
not a predator or a nightmare or a bleed over from her dreams.  That
darkness trailing behind him was a result of a steadfast hallucination.
   Alex picked an open-backed dress.
   "I can't wear that."
   "Why not?"
   "I don't show my tattoo in public."
   "Why?" He set the dress back and searched for another.
   "It's on the graphic side, pretty sinful." She added with a grin.  "It
upsets people."
   "Then why did you get it?"
   "I had to.  I adore it; I love it.  It was my own work, and well, it
spoke to me." She shrugged and shook her head.  She left it unsaid, that
the demonic nature of her artwork had no place next to such an elegant
dress.  "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
   Two women near the accessories laughed.  They whispered to each other
while giving Alex long, lustful looks.  No doubt they shared what they
wanted to do to him.  Young, beautiful, shapely bodies.  They could get it,
too.
   He handed her three dresses.  "Try them.  Choose one."
   "Right away, sir."
   ****
   Alex refused to ignore her eyes on him another day.  Her gaze had the
familiar spark of passion and interest, but his akera sensed her attention
as well.  She stared at them and him with equal fascination.
   The twinge of fear and apprehension she felt now sparked off her and
called to him, like a rabbit just before it bolts in the opposite
direction. That battle with her fear had come and gone when he first met
her.  For a brief moment, he truly thought she was going to run.  For that
same moment, Alex knew he was going to make an ass out of himself and chase
her.
   That she fought her instinct meant that she knew something about him. 
Alex wanted to know what, how, and how much.
   Kamela entered the dressing room with his selections, a blushing smile
on her face.  Would he have asked her out if she hadn't been staring at his
akera?  No, probably not.  In truth, he never would have noticed her unless
she approached him.
   The two women that had been desperately vying for his attention edged
closer.  His akera were the ones to return that attention, filling their
minds with visions of his ferocious appetite, the torment he could bring.
Their curiosity deformed into concern.
   Minds changed, they moved toward the front of the store.
   "What did you do?" She had exited the dressing room wearing one of his
selections.  She wasn't looked at the women, but the things she should not
be able to perceive.
   "I gave them a sense of my true nature.  Interested?"
   "Yes," she whispered.
   He didn't leave her time to change her mind.  The akera swarmed her,
projected visions of uncompromising hunger, intensity, decadence.  It would
be such a terrible end for such a promising evening, but she needed to walk
away and stop tempting him.
   He pulled them back when she flushed and moaned, a small sound, deep in
her throat.  She sounded as if she had gotten a taste of something warm and
decadent.
   His cock deep in her throat, perhaps?
   With a small shake of her head she calmed her expression.  "I like this
one best." Her face flushed bright red as she smoothed her hands along her
wide hips.  She sucked in her bottom lip and nodded.  "I'll get back into
my clothes now."
   The swell of her rear in that dress, the hypnotic sway of her hips stole
his opportunity to speak to her reaction.  The stall closed behind her, and
he was alone with his thoughts.
   A moan?  The touch of his akera provided something to moan about?  Who
was this woman?  What did that mean?  She could not be real.  Perhaps he
was the one that needed to run.
   ***
   Kamela's hands trembled so hard that she struggled to get her dress off.
What in the living hell did she think she was doing?  She had irrefutable
proof that he was a living nightmare, saw it confirmed in the way he ran
those women off.
   The beautiful ones, flirtatious, shapely, giving him all those 'you can
do whatever you want to me' signals.  He ran them off.
   One hand to her hammering heart, she stared at her reflection.  What
would she do now?
   "What's your cell?" He asked from the other side of the door.
   She gave it.
   "How's eight?"
   "Okay," the answer had been automatic.  Continuing with the plan seemed
the easiest choice.
   "I'll text you.  Take the dress to the counter.  Get whatever
accessories you want.  See you later."
   When she exited the stall, he was gone.  For a while, she browsed the
rest of the shop.  What if it were a joke?  She chose a pair of earrings
and went to the counter, sweat formed on her brow.
   The woman smiled and put everything in a bag.  "Have a nice day."
   "Thanks," Kamela whispered.
   ***
   When 7:30 rolled around, Kamela was a nervous wreck.  Her stomach
churned with trepidation.  She fanned herself while pacing back and forth
in her living room.  Maybe he wouldn't show.  Whatever called him away
might keep him there.
   Kamela grabbed the silver wolf from her desk and stroked it as if it had
an answer.
   The cellphone chirped.
Alex: "Mind if I'm early?"
   She typed back.  "No."
   Early?  How early?
   The doorbell rang.
   Warning number two.  He knew where she lived.
   She set the figurine down and opened the door.  A red sports car idled
at the end of the walkway.  Night time, darkness all around.  How did she
think this was a sane idea?  When her aunt encouraged her to make friends,
this probably wasn't her intention.
   Why did she have to be plagued with this sight?
   "Good evening, Kamela."
   "Hi, Alex."
   "I want to apologize for my behavior earlier.  That was rude of me." He
took her hand and kissed it.  "You look beautiful."
   "Thank you." His charm melted her anxiety.  She forgot about being
cautious.  Her cheeks turned scarlet when she should have wondered what
price she would pay for their friendship.  The dress, this date, his sudden
interest.  Was it too good to be true?
   Even if the date worked out, there was still the giant tableau on her
back.  It was a big turn off for some, and a larger ick factor for the men
it managed to attract.
   What would Alex think of it?  When one of those shadows whispered over
her, it filled her with visions she kept to her masturbatory fantasies. 
That made their relationship a zero sum game.  She embraced her dreams and
fantasies to a fault.  While it fueled her art, it also warped her ability
to protect herself.
   Only through her art could she remain safe.
   They went out to dinner first.  Delicious food, friendly atmosphere, but
the best part was the conversation.  They talked about art - the mechanics
of sculpture versus painting, the different avenues they explored toward
selling.  Neither of them took the leap to talk about subjects such as
inspiration, subject matter, or public reception.
   "Do you go to any of the festivals?"
   "Each summer I think about opening a booth, but the expense is too steep
for a one-off.  I'm not sure I want to go to every festival all summer long
to make it worth it."
   Her cellphone buzzed.  A message from her aunt asking if she had talked
to Nathan.
   Kamela sighed heavily.  She probably would have if her day had gone
differently.  Her aunt was always trying to set her up with people.
   Nathan's ID showed up next, placing a call.
   She sent him to voicemail and turned her cellphone off.
   "Boyfriend?"
   "I don't have a boyfriend, just a friend of the family." She smiled
while the server removed their plates.  "When I go out dancing my aunt
likes me to take him with me.  We meet up, but nothing more than that."
   "Does he know about your obsessive fascination?"
   Her cheeks flushed red.  "I'm not like that.  I don't mean to come
across like that.  It's just I've never seen--" Her jaw snapped shut and
she took a drink of water.  "That's rude.  I'm sorry." She stared at her
empty wine glass.  That's who she blamed for the slip.
   "If you still want to dance, that can be arranged."
   Really?  Did he mean it?
   He paid for their food and they were back in the car.  "What do you
see?"
   Of course he would wait until they were alone again.  Instead of taking
her to dance, he could drive her out to an abandoned field and murder her.
But he wouldn't, he hadn't.
   "I call them shades, the things that cling behind you, near your feet.
At first they were really faint.  I wasn't sure.  That's how this all
started, I wanted to be sure, and once I was, I couldn't stop." She wanted
to crawl into a hole.
   "Are they still faint?"
   "Oh no," She stared straight ahead.  "Night time definitely enhances the
effect."
   "And you still got into the car with me."
   Kamela nodded.  Thinking ahead had not been her strong suit.
   ***
   He parked at a building just off the main road.  Nice cars were the
norm. He walked to the passenger side and took her hand in his.  "Before we
go inside, I'm going to place one of those 'shades' with you.  It didn't
hurt you when it touched you before, right?"
   Hurt?  Not in the least.  "No." She shut her eyes and bit her lip.  Why
did she need the protection?
   A sensual caress on her shoulders: cold, sensual, dangerous.  If not for
the warning, she may have panicked.  It was much different than the first
time, a constant reminder of its presence.
   It felt just like one of her dreams, like one of her nightmares.  This
was a thing she was supposed to fight off, not accept.
   But this was reality, and she needed to calm down.  They latched onto
fear.
   Kamela rocked on her feet as much as the heels would allow, bounced on
the balls of her feet.  She needed to adjust, to set her anxieties aside.
   "I'm okay." She grinned as she followed his gaze to the swell of her
breasts.
   "Oh, I agree." Alex winked at her and led her toward the building.  "No
staring," he cautioned.
   There wasn't much to stare at.  It seemed much like a normal club.  She
attributed the undercurrent of darkness to the shade - and then she tuned
it out.  The DJ was great.  Soon, Kamela lost herself to dancing and found
her peace on the dance floor.
   Images flashed through her mind as if she were dreaming awake: bloodied
claws, wet leather, gnashing of teeth, subtle moans, light-swallowing
shadows, and the trail of brilliant lights.  All these things were normal
to her, things she dreamt of, but it seemed to have a texture now, to be
more real.
   Perhaps it was an effect of the shade touching her, allowing her a more
visceral connection to her inner world.
   Hopefully this connection would not include the nightmares.
   ***
   David, manager of the club and a close personal friend to Alex inclined
his head toward the dance floor.  "I thought you said she was different?"
   "She is."
   "Look at that."
   He set his drink down and focused on the young woman.  She had been
dancing for a while, but when he focused, he could see what David meant. 
She did not collide with any of the Nhi'suls or Ibellum on the floor. 
These creatures were imperceptible to all but those born of the
netherworld.
   Could it be that she was a keen sensitive?  No.  A human sensitive would
run screaming from this place and have a host of creatures running after
it, salivating in delight, including himself.  No matter, even the bravest
of them would lack the clarity to avoid them while surrounded by a host of
wraiths on the dance floor.
   That left room for a single conclusion.  Alex refused to entertain it,
but David had no such reservation.
   "One of our kind has fucked up.  Only explanation that makes sense. 
Poor kid.  Is that your akera with her?"
   Alex nodded.
   "What do you know about her?"
   He shook his head.  "That she has second sight.  Even if she were one of
ours?  What line?"
   "There's a lot more going on there than second sight.  Come now, don't
make me beg." David smirked.  "How did you meet her?"
   "She was staring at my akera.  She calls them 'shades.'"
   "And you brought her in here?"
   "She wanted to dance.  I like her, and she is safe with me.  I'll find
out more, but later.  Like you said, she's not harming any one."
   "Invite an unknown wraith into my club." He clapped him on the shoulder.
"I'm sure you'll find out plenty later."
   "Yes," he agreed, "indeed I will."
   ***
   Tired, spent.  Kamela knocked back the water Alex had given her while
they sat on a love seat away from the dance floor.
   Given the energy of the place and her thoughts for the past hour, she
had worked herself in a high state of arousal.  That, combined with the
feeling that she should not squander the best chance she would get to act
on her feelings.
   Kamela set the empty glass aside and kissed him.  A brief touch of her
lips to his.  He didn't look at her like she was crazy, so she kissed him
again.  As the kiss deepened, her body ached for more.  She had become mad
with lust, as they would say.
   A little madness could go a long way.
   Alex had no compunctions about making out in public.  He pulled her into
his lap and put his hand between her thighs, worked his fingers into her
panties.  She shuddered as he played in the slick pool of moisture between
her warm labia.
   "Wow," he breathed during their kiss.
   A thought of warning surfaced.  Something she needed to remember,
something about where she was.  Kamela didn't let the thought surface.  So
what if she was in a club?  She drowned her inhibition in his affection.
   She pulled his shirt up, eager to feel her palm on his bare chest.  Her
fingers brushed over a pendant on his chest.  No matter how much she
watched him, she didn't know that he wore jewelry.
   She bunched his shirt up and grinned.
   With a broad grin in return, he tossed his shirt off.
   The sight of the pendant was like a bucket of ice cold water on her
passions.
   "What the fuck is that?" She pulled away from him, moving away from his
filth and deception.  So much anger, so quickly, as if a fire had replaced
the ice in her veins, vibrating in her chest, looking for an outlet.  This
was not the fire of lust.  It was the seething roar of fury.
   "What?" He lifted the pendant.  "This?"
   Damn her stupidity.  This was all so wrong, so unfair.  She was
dreaming. The when and how of it a mystery.  The signs had been all around
her, all night, and she ignored them all.  Kamela fingered the back of her
unzipped dress.  The air felt cool and her flushed skin.
   She considered her inscription: a bed of torn muscle, flayed skin,
crushed bones.  The beast in the center had caused the carnage.  Some of it
from recent victims, lying on a bed of old, rotting ones.  The scene was
bordered by symbols of death, omens of warning.
   On the bed lay a woman, spread open in a way Kamela had never been.  She
was due to become the next body on the pile.  The beast's body covered the
view of her more intimate parts, his long-nailed hand raised.
   A harrowing scene, but he was not going to destroy her.  Kamela knew
that though the picture gave no indication of such.  His position was one
of violence, but she had always viewed it as something more.
   She had been drawing the scene for years, adding details until it
reached perfection.  This was her most perfect creation, and here a vile
nightmare had come to mock the thing she held most dear.
   'This is the most vile thing I have ever inked,' the tattoo artist had
told her.  Kamela thought it a compliment.
   Just over the woman's breast, a necklace lay askew, giving view to the
pendant that lay on her shoulder.  That pendant, in Kamela's mind, is what
would save her from the beast.  He saw it and spared her life, though he
had never shown such leniency.  Knowing that Alex worked metal, she had
hoped to brave the question, to scrounge the funds for a commission.
   In a move of unparalleled cruelty.  The nightmare had plucked this hope
from her mind and trampled over her soul.
   "Of all the foul, vicious, nightmares that have plagued my mind, you are
the worse!  How dare you use that against me!  What have I done to warrant
such sadism?" She kicked the heels off, yanked the dress off.  Tears, hot
and free, burned a path down her cheeks.
   No more.  This was too much pain to keep contained.
   "Listen, Kamela."
   "I know I'm dreaming.  Now that I've seen through your ruse, I can
defend myself.  I hate you!  All of you!  Damn you!"
   She brought her arms overhead.  Instead of the rush of force, there was
only a breeze, much weaker than normal.  Her emotions ran too high. 
Perhaps she needed to calm down in order to gather enough energy to hurt
him.
   Another day.  Right now she needed to wake up.  She'd come back for this
creature later, when she wasn't feeling ripped to shreds by sorrow and ire.
   She turned her palms and made to lower them to the floor, to send out
the shockwave that would shatter the walls of this illusion.
   ***
   Kamela shifted in bed.  Cool sheets.  Awake.
   The tears continued to soak the pillow underneath.  Her swollen eyes and
lips were proof that she had been crying in her sleep.  As she woke, she
shook with sorrow.
   It had all been so real.  Why would one of them do that to her?  How
many years had passed since she and her nightmare had come to an
understanding?
   An understanding with nightmares.  Kamela sniffled.  She should have
known better.
   When did it begin?  She wiped her eyes and calmed her tears.  She'd need
to remember in order to track the nightmare down and destroy it.
   The text message.  Obviously.
   She had been so foolish, thinking that he knew where she lived.  That
nice restaurant, the sports car, the weird club.  She saw the shadows as
darker and larger than she ever had and explained it away.
   She had explained away all the clues, the more they piled on, the
greater her denial.  Had she truly been about to have sex with a nightmare?
   She screamed in frustration and disgust as she kicked the covers away.
   Kamela stilled and wiggled her toes.  The balls of her feet were sore.
   "Weird," she whispered.
   Searched, but didn't see her cellphone nearby.  She went to her house
phone, hit a single button and waited for the program to dial the saved
number.  "Lily?"
   "Yes, darling?"
   "I need some advice.  I seem," a lump formed in her throat.  Her sadness
was echoed by a resurgence of fury.  "The nightmares.  I must have done
something to anger one of them." The worse was that she had no clue, no
warning, not even the curtesy of an explanation.  Tears began anew.
   "Keep talking," Lily said.  The low chime of her chime rang in the
background.
   "Remember the guy at the mall?  The handsome sculptor?"
   "Yes."
   "I dreamed that he picked up to go on a date in a super expensive red
car.  I mean, he's a sculptor.  I should have known better." She sniffled.
"We went out to dinner, then dancing." She palmed her eyes dry and looked
around the kitchen for her cellphone.  "So many clues, and I ignored them,
like they were suppressed.  There were all kinds of weird things going on
at that club.  I should have known that I had entered the belly of the
underworld.  Everything was off.  Everything.  I ignored all of it."
   She looked up and took a breath for composure.  Her search for her
cellphone continued in the living room.
   "Sounds tame so far."
   "Exactly," said Kamela.  "That's what made it worse." Irritation helped
push away the sadness as she searched the couch cushions.  "The nightmare
used information from my inscription.  The pendant on the shoulder, the
girl's shoulder?"
   "Yeah."
   "He was wearing it!" She made more of a growl than a scream.  "It
doesn't fucking exist, and it was wearing it around its neck!"
   She forgot about searching for her phone while pacing the room.
   "Why?  What kind of nightmare resorts to such methods?"
   The pendulum swung back to tears.  Kamela needed to get off the phone.
If she kept on this way, then her aunt Iris would be justified in making
her final case for Kamela to move back in.
   "Kam?" Lily sounded cautious.
   "Yes?"
   "What did you do?  Did you get out of it?"
   "I brought it to an end." She looked down at her naked body.  She had
also ripped off the dress, but the dress had been real.  She wiped her eyes
and went to the bedroom.  "I'll be in the shower."
   She frowned at the damp cloth on the side of her sink.  When did she use
that?
   Kamela ended the call and kneeled before her toilet.  With two fingers
down her throat, she forced herself to regurgitate.  It didn't take much.
The contents of her stomach filled her with pure dread.  Red wine and
cheesecake among the bile.
   She ended up puking again in the shower, but she didn't need any
assistance with that one.
   ***
   'Of all the foul, vicious, nightmares that have plagued my mind...'
   Her words echoed in his mind over and over, stoking the white hot blaze
of anger.  Alex had no place to direct it.  He was still dressed from last
night, holding her clothes in his lap, staring at the cell phone in his
hand.
   What would have happened if not for his akera at her back?  So close the
netherworld?  He didn't want to imagine.  The akera knocked her out, and he
got her home.  If she thought him unreal, let her wake to sanity.
   He had cleaned her up and put her to bed.  For a long time he sat beside
her, staring down at that drawing, committing it to memory.  He must have
spent half an hour tracing every contour of the detailed horror.  It was
beautiful, vivid, visceral.  The gory tableau shocked him as much as seeing
that pendant shocked her.
   How would he have reacted, seeing the tattoo first?  Would he have
reacted any different?  Any worse?  His akera act off emotions, and there
wouldn't have been anything around to save her.
   'Of all the foul, vicious...'
   He was back home before he discovered her phone on the floorboard.  Now
it was with him.  The dress was his, his to think of her by.  If it was
missing, maybe it would help her.
   He clinched his fist around the pendant on his neck as his mind played
back the unfettered timbre of her moan.  He wasn't too keen on her reality
either.  He should have killed her, taken her like any other over gifted,
useless human.  One that nearly tried to injure him.
   He'd felt that breeze though.  Like the drawing on her back, he'd been
only too ready to strike.  He was going to make her sorry for what she
tried to do to them, but he stared at that drawing on her back, the drawing
of 'his' pendant.  His mother had given it to him.  His mother had shaped
it.  The design was original, meant as nothing but a reminder of her and
her artwork.
   Kamela was a liar.
   He picked up her scent from the pile of clothing in his lap and dropped
his hand into his lap, caressed the strap.
   What if the drawing had come to her in a vision?  If so, then she was
not human.  She could see his akera, she tracked him for weeks.  If it had
been a vision, what was it meant to portend?
   ***
   Lily let herself in the house, looked around, checked for anything
amiss. "I'm here.  Take your time.  Hungry?"
   "No.  I just want to go back to bed."
   "That's not the best idea.  Talk to you when you get out."
   Lily picked up the house phone and rushed to the opposite end of the
house and dialed Kamela's cell.
   Someone picked up, but didn't talk.
   Lily froze.  She didn't need to hear a voice, her body's reaction was
enough.  Like knowing that a feral beast lay just around the next corner.
What in the hell had Kam gotten into?  This was exactly the kind of
interactions they strived to shield her against.
   "I need to get this phone from you.  I'll text you an address from my
number.  Please bring it there."
   The line disconnected.
   "Don't you have to head to work soon?" Kamela called from her room.
   "Yes, I want you with me.  Give it a day before you go back to sleep. 
You've been doing a lot and the stress isn't healthy.  Tell me everything
you remember."
   "I don't...  " She was quiet a while.  Lily heard the shuffle of hangers
back and forth over a metal bar.  "I want to hide out in your dressing
room."
   Lily smiled.  "Works for me."
   ***
   Lily was well into her shift when he showed.  She recognized him from
Kamela's gushing stories about a sculptor with his gorgeous heft of thick
black curls, his silver eyes, and healthy build.  He was certainly
alluring, but she didn't see anything weird about him.  She could feel a
hint of the netherworld within him, but a small amount she would have over
looked.
   He sat at a booth near the stage.  Lily walked over and sat beside him.
He set Kamela's phone on the bar along with three fifty dollar bills.
   "We don't sell that here."
   "It's for your time.  That's what you're going to give me for the
money."
   She felt it hit her like a bolt of lightning when he spoke.  Certainly a
creature from the netherworld, and not a weak one.  "Of course." She
scooped up the money.  "Why did you make her think it was a dream?"
   "As opposed to killing her, you mean?  She was about to cast near a
nether-portal."
   "She's too weak to--" Lily reached for her water and gulped it down. 
His expression did not welcome her contradiction.
   "What is she?"
   "Adopted.  She should never go anywhere near a soft spot, and I'll make
sure it never happens again.  I know she stalked you, but that's over. 
I'll tighten her restrictions.  Kamela has suffered the affections of
nightmares for years, and she's fatigued.  I'm sorry you spooked each
other." Lily paused.  "She can't be a part of that world.  Not ever.  It's
too dangerous."
   She reached out for her phone, but he didn't slide it over.
   He frowned.  "You've told her she's dreaming?"
   "That's the only time she crosses, and how else do you communicate it to
a child?  She crosses over, and things there ...  Her mind wasn't strong
enough at first, but I've taken good care of her." Lily reached over and
gently pulled the phone into her hands.  "Leave her be.  Forget you ever
met her.  I'll explain the phone.  She won't bother you any more.  I
sincerely apologize for my lapse in her vigilance.  She's well on her way
to managing herself.  I just need to take a few steps back."
   ***
   Kamela couldn't go back to the mall.  She wasn't even sure she wanted to
sell her artwork anymore.  She couldn't prove she had owned a dress.  She
hadn't paid for anything she got out of that store.  Maybe it was part of
the dream.  Her memory of that day was shot to hell.
   After getting back from work with Lily, they began looking for her
phone. She found it under her couch, but that didn't help.  How'd she
actually get from the living room to her bedroom?  When did the dream
start? What if the two were blending?  How long before Lily and Iris
recommended she take more drastic measures to manage her illness?  If she
couldn't tell waking life from nightmares...
   When she slept, she demanded to see him again.  She wanted to know which
of them had played that vicious trick on her.  Each night the nightmares
swore that it wasn't one of them.  They even went as far as to make blood
oaths as to their innocence.
   In the end, she believed them, but that meant doubting herself.  Blood
oaths were powerful, dreaming or not.
   The week only brought a deeper level of confusion and dread.  She'd
really had wine.  She'd really been at the mall.  She glanced to the statue
on her shelf.  There was really a man named Alex Dawn.
   She looked through her phone, the recent calls, her contacts.  There
were things missing.  Lily had called.  Nathan had called, left a message.
She turned her phone on, but when she looked for the message from Iris, it
was gone.  The recent call was still there, as was a second call from Lily
...  not missed.
   The call lasted a few seconds and was with a contact she did not
recognize.  Dawn.
   She let the phone fall to the bed as she searched her memory.  She
didn't know anyone named Dawn, certainly no one she would have added into
her phone.
   She texted the number.  She didn't have the guts to dial it.  "Who are
you?"
   She lay beside her phone for several minutes.  No reply.  With a huff
she dialed the number.  At the very least she'd get a voice mail.
   The person on the other line picked up, and Kamela sat up against the
rising nausea.  She felt the tears stinging her eyes.  She knew who this
was and that meant Lily had known.
   "Kamela," he said her name so softly.  She glanced at her clock.  It was
only 4pm.  Had he been asleep?
   Her chest hurt so much.  She could barely get the words out.
   "Are you ...  " She sniffled, a reflex, but she hated that he heard it.
"Are you real?"
   "I am going to come by and see you.  Okay?"
   "Okay," she whispered.
   She wasn't much better when he arrived.  She had said terrible things to
him.  If everything had been real, that meant she nearly did something
worse.  She opened the door and he walked in, completely real.
   She kept her head down, tried to turn away from him once he was inside,
but he held her still, lifted her head and kissed her.  The salt of her
tears didn't deter him from holding her tight to his chest.
   She loved and hated it simultaneously.  She wanted to push him away from
her and pull him closer.  It was the way he was rubbing her back, Kamela
realized.  If she was put to bed, naked, in reality, then he saw it.  He
knew why his pendant sent her into a rage.
   "Can I show you my studio?"
   "In a second," he kissed the top of her head and tightened his arms
around her.
   Why was he holding her like she'd run away or something?  It was just a
really terrible, very trippy, first date where she called him a string of
horrible names.  Given the way he could have reacted, this was better. 
Kamela loved this hug, needed it.
   When he finally let go, she led him through the house to her studio.  He
looked over the works in progress, the various paintings of nightmare
landscapes she'd been planning to sell were hanging on the walls.  She
pulled out her old sketches, the studies that eventually became her tattoo.
Complete with a history of dates and a progression of sketches.
   He took a seat on the floor while setting her sketch books around him.
She fidgeted with her brushes, her books, as she watched him making the
connections.  It relieved her that she had proof that she was genuine.
   He picked up one of her sketches and found the painting that eventually
became of it.  "You don't paint it the same way as your sketches.  If you
don't think any of it is real, why do you obscure it?"
   Kamela shrugged.  She rubbed her temples.  Her head was beginning to
ache from crying.  "We agreed that I would hide the truth.  I don't put the
paintings for sale unless I change it."
   "We?"
   "The nightmares," she whispered.  She couldn't look him in the eye.  "I
got them to stop torturing me by making friendships, pacts.  We make sure
to come to agreements on things, set ground rules."
   He went back to looking at her tattoo sketches.  She'd saved stuff from
as early as ten years of age.  Always the same.  The work that went on her
back never changed, was never altered.  She only enhanced the images,
perfected them, simplified them, rearranged the background.  That was all
she had as her defense.  She believed everything in her mind was only
there, no where else.  Lily and Iris had sworn that it was a mental
disease. She needed him to understand that, to forgive her.
   He reached behind his neck and unlatched the necklace.  He held it out
to her.  "My mother made this.  She and I, together.  I made the sculpture
and she cast it into jewelry." Alex explained.
   Kamela held it in her hands, inspected it, ran her fingers over every
curve.  This was precisely how she imagined it looked, felt.  She edged it
closer to her breast, nearly set it against her skin, but at the last
moment snatched it away, handed it back to him.  "I don't understand." She
sighed heavily, "none of it was a dream?"
   Alex took back the necklace, but he found himself wondering what it
would looked like resting between the swell of her breasts.  "You have
never dreamed, not in the way you think.  For ...  our kind, everything
moment real." He pointed to a page in her sketch book.  "These are Kersis,
terrible biters."
   The hint of a smile leapt into her eyes.  It was as if she glowed.
   Alex adored that smile.  He waved her over and positioned her in his lap
with her sketch book.  He disagreed with the tactics employed by that Lily
person.  Convincing her that she had been having night terrors weakened
her. No one had ever validated her experiences or properly taught her.  How
else had they controlled the young woman?
   He flipped the page.
   "Gellucks.  They swarm carcasses."
   "Like this?" She pulled out another book and found the page.
   "Yes.  And this," he turned to the mountains in the background of one of
her sketches.  "These are the hills of Terrin." He picked out a few others
before he stopped and asked, "May I see it?" Alex brushed his hand down her
back.
   She stood up from the couch and lifted her shirt.  Her back was marred
with angry red whelps.
   "I'm sorry," he whispered as he kissed the raised skin.
   She flinched, but didn't move away from him.  "It wasn't your fault."
Her eyes closed as he kissed the places where she'd tried to scratch
herself, as if she could make it go away.  Then her eyes snapped open as
the tip of his tongue flicked along her whelps.  "What happened before I
blacked out?"
   "My akera stunned you.  It was the only way to stop you from casting."
   "I've seen what it can do.  Really casting it.  I didn't know I could
really do it."
   He turned her around and pulled her legs around his waist.  Kamela felt
a sense of relaxation more profound than she'd felt in days.  She leaned
against him and shut her eyes while they talked.  His thumb brushed back
and forth over the nape of her neck while he continued to explain the
different locations and vistas she had drawn.
   His touch was respectful, but so damned distracting.  She wanted more,
the intimacy she had interrupted, his hand between her legs, tongue in her
mouth.  She had drawn something he and his mother created, years and lives
apart.  That had to mean something.
   "Do you know what I am?" He asked.
   "No clue."
   "Do you know what this is?" He smoothed his hand down her back.
   She always imagined the beast to be a great hunter, an uncompromising
predator, skilled and powerful, feared by all other creatures in the dark.
"I have an idea about its," she paused and squirmed a little closer to him.
"its nature."
   He made a small sound, but it purred in her ear as his chest rumbled. 
"It's a Delrew," he said with a kiss to her cheek.  "I need to go."
   Kamela nodded.  Of course, at least he gave her the opportunity to
explain herself.  She was still untouched in the way she wanted to be, on
fire, but he left her with a large dose of knowledge and the restoration of
her sanity.
   They made up and now he was running away.  At least he left her feeling
better, more whole.  All before she made a fool of herself by admitting
that she would have willingly recreated that scene on her back if he had
only stayed.
   After walking him out, she went back into her studio, frustrated and
happy.  She looked over her drawings again as she put her books away.  She
focused on her early drawings of the Delrew.  At the start it was more
wolfish than the humanoid creature it became.
   Now she knew what the creature on her back was, but he never told her
what he was.  For that matter, she wasn't sure of her own identity anymore.
Alex had said 'our kind.' Did he know?
   'Do you know what I am?'
   'Do you know what this is?'
   Goosebumps rose on her arms and the small hairs stood up on the back of
her neck.  Her drawing has his necklace, but she had always thought of it
as the woman's necklace, but also a symbol to the beast ...  the Delrew.
   Kamela stumbled on the way to her desk fan.  She turned it on and gasped
as she stood in front of the cool blast of air.  Her stomach flipped, but
it was empty, or else she would have been running for the nearest waste
bin.
   No way.  No way he could be a Delrew.  They were massive raptors of the
great, dark jungle.  A Delrew would have killed her for so much as
threatening his well being.
   "Kamela!" Lily called out as she walked into her house.
   Shit!  If he hadn't just left...
   She chuckled softly to herself.  "Studio!"
   "Hey.  Feeling better?"
   "Yes." She hoped that the fan explained the sweat on her brow.
   Lily had called Alex from her house phone and planted her phone under
the couch.  Kamela had trusted the girl since her aunt introduced them in
middle school.  She trusted her with everything, but now, all that trust
had come into doubt.
   He'd told her that kipkas were mostly human, but shared a lineage with
creatures from the netherworld, not enough to cross over when they slept,
but enough to be aware of other netherworld people.
   Kamela texted Alex: "Am I a kipka?"
   "Not even close.  We'll figure you out."
   Kamela's fingers flew over the keys.  "I wish we had kissed longer or
deeper, at least."
   "We'll do that too."
   She buried her phone under her just as Lilly entered the studio.
   "You weren't answering your phone."
   "I was down here."
   "Not destroying anything, hopefully."
   "I still have to eat.  No, I'm not going to destroy my work or stop
painting." She picked up a pencil and curled up with her sketch pad.  A
beach, a storm rolling in, dark water, bright stars in a dark sky.
   'Even when you don't cross, if it feels like a dream, it's a vision. 
Information communicated in your unconscious state.'
   A vision.  Like her tattoo, the beach storm.
   "I'm working the next few nights," said Lily.  "Come by and see me."
   Kamela waved her off with her free hand.  She didn't get to bed until
several hours later.  The scene had been missing life, so she drew a woman
straddling a man.  This woman knew what she was doing, had done this
several times.  She wore Alex's pendant, riding, sweating, a light sheen on
her body reflecting the flash of lightning.
   The Delrew's claws rested on the woman's hips, indented her skin, but
not enough to puncture her, not yet.  Soon he would lose control and then
the blood would flow.
   She had fallen asleep flustered before, but that night set a record.
   ***
   Kamela's mood improved.  She spent her days sketching and painting, but
for reasons other than business, she stayed out of the mall.  She managed
to get some paintings together for a gallery showing.
   In all that time she didn't call or text him - he didn't do either in
return.  Yes, he was real.  She wanted him, but, as is the story of her
life, she couldn't have everything she wanted.  Besides, with Lily and Iris
watching her closer than ever, she couldn't do anything in secret.
   After the gallery showing she was in her car, on her way to have drinks
with them.  It wasn't anything on a calendar, just the place they usually
met after a successful night.
   It didn't work out that way for her.  The short drive ended up being
much longer.  She turned up the music on the radio, gazed up at the clouds,
and hit the road that took her to the beach.  She hadn't been to the beach
since she was a girl.  It was only a thirty minute drive at the speeds she
hit.
   The parking lot was empty when she pulled in.  She kicked off her shoes,
slipped out of her dress.  What was the different between lingerie and a
bikini in the dark?
   A majestic beach house loomed off to the right, one of the few lights in
the stormy darkness.  The second floor had massive windows illuminated by
tiny points of soft blue light.
   By the time she noticed the man lying on a beach towel, eyes closed,
pendant clutched in his hand as if in prayer, she knew exactly who it was.
The water was dark.  There was no moon out.  Storm clouds were along the
horizon, but bright stars otherwise.
   Kamela grinned with delight.  "You summoned me like I am some kind of
demonic creature."
   He chuckled.  "Not against your will."
   "Why?  I mean ...  I understand if you've changed your mind about
talking to me.  If you learned something, you could have called."
   "Lily doesn't want me near you.  You are surrounded by witches.  It took
a lot to cloak my presence from them within your house."
   A gust of wind whipped her hair around as she stood there in stunned
silence.  Witches?  Well, it wasn't inaccurate.  Both Lily and Iris were
known to cast a spell or two.  That's why they had been so helpful to
Kamela with her troubles.
   Was it a bad thing?  Yeah, they could be pretty persuasive when they
wanted.
   She looked up at the rolling clouds.  All that was missing was the
storm. The dark waves were pretty rough.  What else would come true?
   Though she wanted to straddle his lap, wanted to feel him between her
spread thighs, she only sat on the towel beside him.  The lull of the ocean
waves kept her calm.  As the warm breeze washed over her she thought of
that flash of the beast, the predator and hunter.
   Right.  Which made her the lamp sleeping at the mouth of a wolf's den,
hoping to be devoured.
   She needed to get home.
   When Kamela made to stand, he pulled her down, causing her to tumble at
his side.
   "Stop.  I'm leaving."
   "So that you can torment me from a safe distance?"
   Torment him?  "I have no idea what you're talking about."
   He picked her up, settled her onto his hips.  His right hand made a fist
in her hair and his left grabbed her right buttock.
   She had drawn this, almost perfect, weeks ago.
   "Familiar?" He tugged her down and kissed her.
   Kamela burned with the need to be that woman, to explore that future. 
"Promise?" She whispered.
   He chuckled.  "I sensed you calling me.  I couldn't resist." He slipped
his hand between their bodies, two fingers thrusting in her wet pussy.
   With small moans she rolled her hips against his fingers, kissed him
deeper.  Her breath came in short pants, her body tensed and twitched.  As
her arousal peaked, she could smell the coppery tinge of blood, heard the
distance growls and screams.  It was a vision of the netherworld, a taste
of it from the eyes of one who feared nothing in any world.
   The storm, the one inside her, broke loose.  Kamela bend backwards, face
to the sky and bounced her hips on his fingers.  She spasmed, cried out
with bone deep passion.
   A stronger breezed kicked up this time.
   With one strong hand behind her back, he helped her sit up and kissed
her on the cheek.  "Let's get out of here."
   She stumbled and used him for support in the sand.  She was scared
delirious, but the only person with answers to her questions was the one
that frightened her the most.
   He walked her to the parking lot and they used the hose to washed the
sand from their feet.  He drove her down the road into the garage of the
house she had been admiring only moments before.
   It was even more gorgeous inside.  Brilliant, soft lighting, flashed
beyond the large windows.
   "Trade you." He held a robe out.
   She peeled out of her bra and panties and took the terry cloth robe.
   "Welcome to my home."
   She followed him while he guided her through the house and then to what
she thought was a guest room, but the furnishing was more detailed.  Did he
have a room mate?  She eyed the sketch book, the pencils - same brand she
used.  There were clothes, a very familiar dress, the toiletries she used.
   "Get comfortable.  I'll get us something to eat," he kissed her shoulder
and left her in the room.
   She really could have used the shower in this creepy room that seemed to
house her twin.  She tamed her hair, got the grit off her, cleared the oil
slick between her legs.  Mostly, she tried not to think.  That was the last
thing she wanted to do: rationalize, explain, or slow down.  The clothes
were her size, including the pair of low rise cotton shorts and tee.
   He was in a pair of knee length dark blue shorts, also fresh from a
shower.  He took her into the bay room.  This was the room with mostly
windows with tiny lights wrapped around wire sculptures.
   On a low table surrounded by pillow set a bowl of rice, soup, and a
platter of what looked like sashimi.
   "Have a seat." Alex closed the door, causing the storm to be the focus
of the room.  He settled on the pillow beside her and kissed her on the
shoulder.  "Nervous?"
   "Yes and no."
   One of the shades shifted in front of the window.
   "Tell me about it."
   "Not now, but tomorrow."
   He leaned forward.  He pinched a bit of rice into a deep spoon, then
lifted a strip of meat and dipped it in the soup bowl.  "Tip it to your
mouth.  Savor it."
   Savor indeed.  This didn't taste anything like fish.  It was much
tangier, juicier.  She hummed as she chewed the succulent mouthful, chewed
it slowly, enjoyed it even as it slid down her throat.
   He grinned and did the same to his own spoon.
   She mirrored his actions until she was able to prepare it for herself.
"What is this?  Where is it from?"
   "No grocery store you know," he grinned and pointed to the rice.  "This
is millet, and the meat is a barkait loin.  The sauce is meant to bring out
the flavor."
   Kamela was aware that her moaning over the succulent dish sounded lewd,
but this was some of the finest good she had ever eaten.  She was busy
licking her lips, head rolled back, when she felt warmth on her chest.  A
chain settled over her shoulders.
   She brought her hand to her chest, her fingertip brushed over the
smooth, twisting silver.  Warmth flushed through her body.  Her heart
hammered as if trying to break free of her chest.
   What had she been eating?  She frowned a little while preparing her
fourth spoonful.  "Is it a bad sign if I feel flushed?"
   "It's normal." He took her free hand and placed it to his chest.  He
also felt warmer, his pulse quick.
   Outside rain pelted the windows, it must have been loud, but the thick
panes of glass muffled the sound.
   She flicked the strip of meat back and forth in the sauce, then set it
over the spoon, tipped it into her mouth.  When she finished she wiped her
hands with the cloth, then dabbed her forehead.
   Alex turned and kissed her, exploring her with his lips and tongue.  He
pulled back a bit and enticed her with small licks and twirls.  Kamela drew
closer to him with a small moan of desire.  She straddled him, settled in
his lap.
   "Burning up," she pulled her shirt off and stood and stepped out of her
shorts.  Alex followed suit, his erection arched back toward his stomach.
"Wow," she gnawed her bottom lip.
   "I won't bite."
   "Lies," she said with a grin.  She settled beside him, reached out and
stroked his shaft.
   "Get that condom off the table."
   She crawled over and brought it back, watched as he rolled the thin film
of rubber onto his shaft.
   She put her hand on his shoulder then straddled him on her knees.  He
kept his hand around the base of his shaft as she rocked back and forth,
squirmed over the wide head.  She eased down a little and stilled, then
bobbed up, took a bit more in.
   His eyes seemed glued to the place where they were joined.  As for
Kamela, the sensation of uncomfortable stretching fueled her screaming
lust, a good hurt.  He was able to remove his hand and settle it on her
hip.
   Kamela wiggled herself flush to him, settled down onto his cock.  "Made
it," she whispered.
   "Indeed," he bent his head down and kissed the pendant, her breasts,
then up the side of her neck.  Inside her pussy, his cock throbbed and
twitched.  She tightened her vaginal muscles, attempted to squeeze him
back.
   Thunder rolled outside, but between them, all was calm.
   As he kissed her, he took hold of her ass and rocked her up and down on
his cock.
   "I like that."
   He pressed her down while his hips rocked upward.  "Like that?"
   "Mmm hmm." Her body shivered with passion, and she squirmed wished to
get deeper, closer, get more of him.
   "Fuck.  I'm not going to last much longer." He growled into her neck and
groaned as he held her tight as a vise.  Then he bit her, much deeper than
any love bite.
   Kamela yelped, twitched, tried to get away, but she was locked in his
arms, impaled on his throbbed cock.  It was painful enough to bring tears
to her eyes.
   "That hurt," she sniffled and rolled her hurt shoulder.
   "Aw," he flicked his tongue against her lips.  "You can take that."
   "I did."
   He grinned and rolled his head back.  "Lay on your back." He pulled out
of her and disposed of the used condom.
   Kamela lay on the pillow, her knees bent, but she was trying to get a
look at where he had bitten her.
   She was distracted by his warm breath on her labia, then his tongue
lapping at her slit.  Her damp inner lips parted on his tongue, and her
growled with delight as he sucked on her clitoris.  She curled her fingers
into his hair, twitching and writhing.  With his hands planted firmly on
her ass, he devoured her until she had to place a firm hand on his
shoulder.
   Alex sat back and reached for the cloth on the table and wiped his
mouth. Under his watchful eye, she still trembled and squirmed as the echo
of her orgasm swept through her body.
   "That was awesome," Kamela stretched, arched her back and looked out the
windows.  Not so much thunder or lightning anymore, only the rain.  She
should have been at the White Oak by now, two glasses of wine down,
celebrating her show with her friends and family.  Witches.
   "Do you want to let someone know you're okay?"
   "I think I better."
   "I'll get your phone." He stood and gathered their empty dishes onto a
tray and carried it out.
   Alex returned with her phone, two cups, and a pitcher.  He set all the
items down and poured them each a glass.  "Do you want some privacy?"
   She shook her head.  "I'm just going to text her."
Kamela: "Went to the beach.  Will catch up with you tomorrow."
Lily: "Call me."
She grinned and sent.  "I will.  Tomorrow." She checked to assure her
phone was on silent and set it back on the table.
   "I'll put it back in your room.  Drink up."
   Good thinking.  She didn't want it buzzing and distracting her from her
handsome catch.  Kamela smiled as she drank the sweet juice.
   Who caught whom?  Where had her certainty of his danger and predatory
nature gone?
   She only had to look behind her to see the darker corner of the room. 
It wasn't that far away, and there were small lights in that corner.  All
the same, it was darker.
   "Do you have a name?"
   "It is called an akera, the lack of light you perceive, but it is part
of me, an extension of my awareness." Alex settled on the floor beside him
with this drink.
   "Ah.  More stuff from a place I've never been?" She rocked her empty cup
from side to side.
   "I like to use blueberries in the mix.  It provides a richer, sweeter
note than the original recipe."
   "What is it?"
   He thumbed her cheek and kissed her lightly.  "Nourishment, an essential
nutrient you've gone too long without."
   "If you know what I need, then do you know what I am?"
   "No doubt."
   "What?"
   "Mine." He dipped his head lower and sucked on her nipple, pulled until
it popped out of his mouth.
   "Just that, huh?"
   "It's enough for me." He caressed her back and kissed the tender spot
where he'd bitten her.  "Isn't that the promise you made to yourself when
you did this?" He pushed her onto her back, took hold of the pendant and
placed it over her right breast.
   He grabbed another condom from the table and rolled it on to his renewed
erection.
   Kamela widened her thighs in offering and clasped her wrists together
high overhead.  His.  Was it a bed of charming pillow talk or a promise? 
For now, she had all she wanted, the moment of knowing something she had
seen since she was a child.
   He positioned himself between her thighs and rubbed the head of his cock
up and down her aching folds.  She lifted her hips, eager to have him
inside her again.  Her body thrummed with energy, almost as if stronger,
more alive.
   He eased into her, sliding until they were joined at the hip.  "Keep
doing that."
   She arched her brow.
   "Squeezing around my cock," he groaned and ground deeper into her.
   Kamela chuckled.  "That's because I love feeling it."
   He put one arm around her back and gave a powerful thrust.
   "Fuck," Kamela sighed.  "Please, do that again."
   He slammed his body into hers, each one evenly spaced, gradual as he
pulled out to repeat himself.
   "Faster," she whined.
   "Not yet."
   They were both panting as he created a steady drum beat inside her.  The
languid, yet intense, sensation of being fucked by him filled her with
passion.  His forehead wrinkled in concentration, eyebrows pinched close
together.
   With long, slow strokes, Alex fucked Kamela.  Each time he pulled out,
her body gave a delicious little quiver.
   "Please, please, please," she whimpered, her thighs clamped tight around
his waste.  He adjusted his thrusts, driving into her body harder, pushing
her over the edge.  Kamela came with a cold, tingling shudder - soundless -
consumed by the fire of their lusts.
   He slammed into her with greater fervor then grunted, straining as he
reached his own orgasm.  They lay in each other's arms, kissing and petting
each other.  Too exhausted to do much more than that.  They held each
other, snuggling close, his softening cock still inside her.
   Kamela settled onto his shoulder and sighed.  He kissed her on the
forehead and chuckled.  They lay in the soft light, saturated both inside
and out with the chemicals of their union.  Their respiration leveled out
as they returned from their euphoria.
   "You won't regret belonging to me, Kamela." He stroked her back and
kissed her on the head.  "I'm the only nightmare you'll ever need."
   ***
   Lily sat with her face in her palms as Iris paced the floor in front of
her.  She could feel the elder's fury like a thick cloud of needles.
   "You should have come to me with this the moment she first told you!"
   "They were not speaking to each other," said Lily.  "She was fine. 
After the incident, I didn't suspect it would go any further."
   "She could be dead now or worse.  We don't even know what kind of fiend
he is.  I can't locate her.  If he's already sold her," Iris shook her
head. "There's no more I can do to protect her."
   "Sold her.  Why would he do that?"
   Iris fumed and her face seemed to turn a deeper shade of red.  "She can
be enslaved and used for her visions, drained of her blood, tortured by
those who glorify the torment of her kind.  She was your charge!"
   "She's not a child anymore." Lily wiped the tears from her face.
   "She is as fragile as one." Iris went over to her cabinet and sighed
heavily.  "Does she still have her phone?"
   "Yes.  She said she would call in the morning."
   "Can't wait for that.  How much of her blood do you have left?"
   Lily shook her head.  "I have hair, but no more blood.  We don't have
enough in stock for a calling."
   "I'm not interested in a calling.  She needs to be bound, hidden for her
safety."
   "Elder, wouldn't it be better to make her aware of what she is."
   Iris shook her head and took down the device used for extracting blood.
"We'll get enough blood to do the rite and put an end to this."
   ***
   When Kamela slept in Alex's bed, she expected to go to the realm of
nightmares alone.  She came to understand what he meant.  The great Delrew
took her on a hunt with him.  When her usual nightmares came sniffing
around, they quickly disappeared.
   She woke with the taste of a fresh kill lingering in her mouth.  She
licked her lips.  Though there wasn't anything in her mouth, the sensation
was too real.
   "This is how you are meant to live, to travel."
   She turned onto her side and brushed his wild hair back.  "Why was I
abandoned?"
   "To protect you?  It happens, but usually we are placed with our own. 
Sometimes a hunter will find a lost creature, but do the right thing and
get them to a safe place.  Either to the netherworld to their death."
   Kamela's eyes went wide as saucers.  She sat upright in bed beside him.
"Death is one of those safe places?"
   "For some, it's the only way to protect the nature of our kind and all
others around them."
   "Would you have killed me?" She brought to mind the tableau on her back.
She thought of the answer at the same time he spoke.
   "Almost."
   She caressed the pendant around her neck.  How long would he let her
wear it?  She had always found the landscape of her dreams and nightmares a
beautiful and inspiring place.  With him, all the anxiety and worry that
came with it disappeared.  She had brought her own terror as opposed to
fighting it.  She ran free instead of furtive trips between hiding places.
   Alex pulled her down beside him then towered over her.  "That person who
raised you." He put his finger to her lips.  "He or she knows exactly who
and what you are.  Always has.  That person," his eyelids drooped as he
pressed inside her.  "That is the person I will kill, if I learn the name."
   Kamela wrapped her arms and legs around him, clenched down on his bare
cock.  "Take me."
   "Just like this?"
   "Mmm hmm, please."
   He groaned in delight and worked her back into a state of euphoria.
   "I need you like food.  I've never felt so safe, so right."
   "I've got some food for you." He chuckled.
   She turned and smirked at him.  "Yeah?  Is it delicious?"
   Alex pulled out and brought his cock to her lips.  "Tell me."
   She opened her mouth and sucked him into her mouth, her tongue worked
the soft spot under his head.  Soon his spilled into her mouth, filled her
with his ejaculate.
   "Fuck." He grunted.  "Drink up."
   Afterward they showered, dressed.  She put on the soft pants and shirt
from 'her closet.' For breakfast he fed her more unique fortified treasure.
   "You need to go home.  Someone is looking for you, and not in the normal
way."
   "Oh," Kamela reached for the chain clasp behind her neck.
   "No.  Keep it on, no matter what." He hugged her to him and kissed her.
"No one can do anything to harm you."
   "Because I'm yours?"
   He took hold of her thighs and hoisted her up to his waist.  "All mine."
This time he kissed her deeper, moaned and squeezed her ass.  "See you
again soon."
   ***
   Kamela called Lily once she was home and in her studio.  She had so much
to sketch, so much to paint, so many new vistas to enrich.
   "Hey, just wanted to let you know I'm home.  I have work to do, so
later."
   As much as Aunt Iris had done for her, Kamela had to look at their
interaction in a new light.  All this time she had known, and done want? 
Made her feel afraid and confused, convinced her that she was sick and in
need of constant supervision and medication.
   Never the kind that had come from a pharmacist.  Witches.
   Even so, Kamela would not set a Delrew in her path.  Iris didn't kill
her either.
   "Where have you been?" Lily said as she entered the studio.
   "I drove down to the beach.  I needed to get some air, see something
different.  It helped inspire me, so that was good.  Shame about that storm
though.  I didn't want to drive home in it."
   "Have you talked to Alex?"
   "Yes." It did not occur for one second to obscure their relationship. 
She was safe, in this world and the next.
   "We were concerned.  You don't usually dodge my calls."
   "Last time I checked, I don't answer to you or Iris."
   "Check again, young woman," said Iris.
   Kamela set down her pencils and looked up.
   "Your condition means that you do.  We need to discuss this Alex person.
Don't ever speak to him again, not on the phone, especially not in person."
   "I'm busy." Kamela hissed.  Like dry kindling, she ignited with anger.
Mood swings tended to be common, but instead of swinging low on the
frustration and sadness scale, she was flying: furious and enlivened. 
"Both of you get out."
   Her heart pounded for several seconds, waiting for what they would do.
   They left the studio, but not her house.
   Good enough.  She spent her time sketching, painting.  Upstairs, Lily
and Iris argued.
   She clasped the pendant under her shirt and turned light-headed with
visions of their future together.  Sweaty, wet, messy.  Kissing, writhing,
primal noises echoing off the walls.  His voice in her ear, her nails in
his back.
   "Soon," Kamela whispered to herself.
   Hours and several pages later, she rejoined her 'family' upstairs.
   ***
   "What am I?" Kamela said to Iris as soon as she got upstairs.
   "Layali, as if that means anything to you.  That is a thing of a place
where you should never go, a lamb meant for slaughter in the home of
wolves."
   She hummed to herself and went to her bag.  Alex had put the book in
with her things.
   "I need to draw blood," said Iris.
   Kamela shook her head.
   "Yes.  I know you've ingested something you shouldn't have.  I need to
do this for your protection.  I need to analyze how vulnerable you've made
yourself."
   "I am safe as long as I don't cast here and don't enter any
confrontations.  I don't have anything to worry about in that regard, do
I?"
   Iris typically had a kind, motherly countenance, but at the subtle
threat her expression hardened.  "Young woman, I have taken charge of you,
vowed to keep you safe.  If you had any idea how precarious the balance of
you sanity is to maintain--"
   She growled low in her throat as she searched through the Book of Raja.
Everything Iris had said was true.  A Layali could create a conduit of
powerful energies, melding both worlds.  She could also use this energy to
boost the powers of others via flesh or blood.  Many Layali were enslaved
or captured long before reaching adulthood.  Many creatures feared their
power as adults.  The Delrew were unstoppable, but not the stunted Layali,
often madness and fear crippled them before others got the chance.
   It wasn't the happiest chapter, but richly informative, detailing what a
Layali did for which creatures and how.  She skimmed the names of her
childhood tormentors, understood better why they had peeled her skin and
pulled her hair.
   The exchange of blood was most powerful, adding fortification to wards
and seals, allowing access to powers beyond a creature's native ability.
   Dragonwolves, the Delrew, the master hunter of the underworld and feared
demons of others.  Goosebumps covered both her arms.  Of course they were
master hunters, because they were the ultimate prey.  Each part of them
granted exponential power, but it was reliant upon the method of
extraction. The only hope was to obtain the essence of a stunted infant,
but young Delrews are not known to leave their parents until puberty.
   Try to take anything from a grown Delrew under the punishment of living
torture.
   No one?  Nothing?
   No one who would dare tell anyone else, she thought.
   Stunted.
   How to stun the growth of a netherworld born creature.
   Remove it from the netherworld, never feed it foods from that plane.  It
must learn to fear traveling in sleep.  All these were mentioned
benevolently, the process of fear and suffocation granted the orphaned
creature a better life.  Using their powers and abilities in the wrong way
would mean their death.
   'This is why the writer recommends that any creature that can visit the
netherworld be taken and left there.  It is not of this world, and no
amount of stunting can save it from its inevitable future: madness and
death.'
   Older Layali were the most lethal to control and perilous to tame. 
However, since they are not known as hunters, many attempt it.  The process
was described as emotionally overwhelming, draining to the soul, and
potentially destructive.
   She flipped along to the section on mating.  By claiming a mate, a
Delrew vowed complete protection from all others and devotion to their
children.  The book hypothesized that a Delrew had access to some kind of
invisible, moving ward that could oversee and protect their family.
   He'd told her exactly what it was.  Why didn't the book know?
   "Never seen you take interest in such books," said Iris.  "Where did you
get it?"
   "From my partner." Kamela closed the book with a broad grin.
   "This man you've been seeing?  What is he?"
   "Awesome."
   <->
   Epilogue: I have a note for the edit of this story: 'change the names.'
How about no.  This is a Kamela and Alex story.  I don't care.
Written: June 2009
"My sexual interests are like my eating habits.  I'll try anything once,
twice, if you prepare it differently." -Bianca Lee
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot com
  
StuntedLayali