Black Equation - The Gifted Ones

Number Fourteen

 

I think I deserve a VOTE and a COMMENT. I uploaded mega fast! Two consecutive days! Hahah~ I’m being good, ayt?  =))  Enjoy~

 

"Darkness loves him. He dances with it like a lover and the moon comes up over the purple hill and what was sweet smells sour. Smells like poison."  – Lisey's story, Stephen King

 

Number Fourteen

 

Richard quietly entered the room where Faye Summers was held, his heart beating fast at the thought of finally gaining leverage over his half-brother. On the bed she laid, Krad’s precious princess, a slumbering fool in a den of lions.

She was pale, almost albino pale, and for a moment, he wondered if she had killed herself. Slowly, he lowered himself and touched her wrist. There was undoubtedly a pulse, but it was evenly paced. She’s asleep. Sedated. Heavily sedated.

He rolled her over, wanting to clearly see the face of the woman who would be playing a major role in his ultimate gamble. Underneath the mess of brown hair was a small dainty face with smudges of dirt. She looked terribly young, like a girl, for which the photos he had clipped from newspapers did no justice. There was something about her face which he found peaceful, calming. Maybe it was the innocence, or the ignorance.  No wonder Krad wanted the lady. She was no gorgeous beauty, but she’s lovely, in the basest form.

"If we met under a different circumstance, I might have taken you as a lover."

Who said he couldn’t? He smirked at that. He would take everything away from Krad. Their father, his position, his girlfriend. That would surely drive him mad.

A current crackled on his left hand. Carefully, he touched her head, only barely, intending his Gift to shock her awake. To his surprise, his Gift sputtered, like a flame out of gas. He tried again, but the moment he touched her skin, the electricity would disappear into nothingness.

His Gift refused to harm her.

He nervously licked his lips. “Interesting.”

An even more interesting notion entered his mind. Sensually, he fingered her pale lips. They were as soft as the insides of a rose petal, like satin, like silk, and before he could help himself, he lowered his head to capture her mouth. She didn’t jolt, like most of his partners did. For the first time in his life, Richard was able to fully kiss a woman without her being fried to her bones.

Abcidee woke because of the intoxicating smell of a man’s aftershave. Someone was nibbling her lower lip, softly humming a lullaby that sent a delicious chill down her spine. Gradually, the warm mouth trailed butterfly kisses down her throat, her collarbone, and then pressed a gentle kiss on her shoulders. She felt safe, comfortable, cocooned in someone’s strong arms.

“You’re quite a heavy sleeper, Faye Summers,” an unfamiliar voice whispered to her ear, too close for her liking.

Dark green eyes met hers, and she reflexively jumped away. Since when did she fall asleep? When did she climb this bed? Who is this man and what was he doing to her?

He offered her his kindest smile. “Don’t be afraid.”

“Should I know you?” she countered defensively, shifting away from his unnervingly penetrating gaze. This was the first time she had seen him, though in her case, that fact didn’t matter much.