Taint (Formerly Claimed) Dark Midnight 1

Chapter 27

Bracing herself against the snow, she tilted her head back to meet that fiery amber stare.  Her teeth stopped chattering as she let go of her own desire for heat and just embraced the cold.

Slowly, she took a deep breath, and let it out over her next two words; “Are you Superman?”

This definitely wasn’t the time for jokes.

He hovered over her like a snarling wolf—and he had fangs. 

She should have been terrified.  Anxious, at least. 

The brief shock that crossed his face should not have made her stomach twist and turn into knots that had nothing at all to do with being afraid.

She should have run away.

“Not quite.”  His voice was cold, empty, but in his eyes all she saw was confusion.  Hesitantly, he eyed her finger, still slowly stroking the side of his fang. 

“Try again.”

“Hmmm...”  Miriam mulled his words over out loud, even as a tiny shiver began to run down her spine. 

Clark Kent could never look so menacing. 

“You’re strong, too,” she blurted, adding to the growing list of his oddities.  “And your eyes—they’re like the exact color of…”

“What?”  He pressed when she hesitated. 

Suddenly, he leaned closer, cutting off the daylight with his shadow, which fell down like a curtain over her. 

He was so close—too close. 

She didn’t like the way her heart sped up. Or how her chest began to heave like crazy beneath her jacket. 

Eliot watched it all, dark gaze missing nothing.  

“My eyes…are the color of what?”  He repeated ominously.

Miriam swallowed.  “Blood.”

It was the truth. 

Now, if she really wanted to be honest with herself, she could admit that his eyes weren’t brown, or amber, or ruby—or any other pretty words to fill in the blanks for what color they really were. 

There was no way around it; his eyes were a deep, bloody scarlet the exact color of fresh blood.

“What else?”  Eliot demanded, eyes burning. 

“You’re rude and you don’t seem to like people,” Miriam said quickly.  “But I think that’s just a part of your personality.”

He didn’t answer.  Not even as she moved her finger—which still throbbed from the touch of that fang—to prop beneath her chin.

“If not superman, then…”  She cocked her head, pretending to think through the options even as the truth twisted inside of her.

Pale skin.

Fangs.

A chilling air that screamed 'danger.'

A five-year old could have guessed what he was.

“What?”  Eliot snapped.  He brought his face closer…and then closer still, until his chest threatened to brush hers with every rapid rise and fall.

Miriam tried to hold her breath, but it was getting so hard just to breathe at all...

“You know what I am,” he said coldly when she didn't speak, eyes on her throat.  “Say it.”