Chapter 23 - Frying Pot to Fire
Damn! I... I liked that a little bit too much...
Ezekiel panted to himself. He wasn't tired, but the adrenaline crawling all along his heart made him gritty. As did the Leopard inside that was wide awake and snarling to get free.
And it wasn't mad like he was. No. It had enjoyed the chase...The Leopard was pouring its power into him, scratching at his mind, trying to break free. It liked the hunt.....maybe a little too much.
Ezekiel ignored its mewling calls in his head and tried to focus on the strange green-eyed mortal who was proving to be as slippery as an ell, even with his exhaustion clear to the naked eye.
How in god's name is he still able to move!
Ezekiels asked himself.
He was two seconds from death this morning. What the hell did mom do to him?
Knowing that these questions were really the last things he should be worried about, he shook them away like the demanding call of his inner beast.
Hoping to waylay any more of the mortal's crafty moves and thus the mortal's desperate attempt to escape, Ezekiel pinned the mortal to the wall with his thighs and chest while his hands held the mortal's arms immobile above his head. The mortal screamed profanity at him and struggled mightily against his hold, and though Ezekiel had to tighten his grasp on his wrists to keep the mortal in his power, he could feel the frailty of the man's body as it pushed against him. But beyond all this. Beyond the screaming and the aggression was the reality that the mortal was right up against him. His heat, amplified by the fever burning in his pale skin, poured into Ezekiel's chest and stomach as the mortal pressed into him. His mint green eyes were full of cool calculation and fury.
He was obviously furious at Ezekiel for boxing him in, but beneath that, Ezekiel could see the calm edge of his thoughts. He could see that the mortal was trying to get a grasp of his surroundings and maybe even think up an escape plan.
And then there was the smell of him. A curious scent that had haunted Ezekiel ever since their meeting in the woods. There was no set way for Ezekiel to describe the smell. It was more of the feeling that came with the mortal's scent that haunted him. He in-hailed, and it was like a spike of awareness strait to his gut and spine, a hum, a burn. Pleasant, but unpleasant. It was warm and shocking but constant. That awareness had stuck with him for days, and now here he was with the mortals' scent all around him.
With the mortal standing before him he felt that same spike in his stomach. That same awareness.
The mortal had finally stopped screaming at him and sagged up against him slightly. He was exhausted. His legs shook against the front of Ezekiels thigs and the heat of fever wafted off the mortal's skin, making him wonder if they would have to put him into a tub of ice sometime soon.
Ezekiel took this time to regain his own breath, and as he dropped his head and sighed deeply, his face came closer to the mortal. The stranger's head was tipped back, giving Ezekiel a clear view of his throat. As the mortal also tried to get back his strength. So close to his pulse, Ezekiel caught his breath as the stranger's scent washed over him thoroughly.
He began to lean forward, chasing that...smell.
Unbidden his nose, then his lips brushed against the side of the mortal's throat.
God, I must be losing my mind, but....his scent is just....
Ezekiel's eyes drifted shut as he felt the soft warmth meet his lips. His skin suddenly felt like silk, which made Ezekiel want to touch him more. He inhaled and ex-hailed, drowning himself in that smell before he let his mouth drift open and slowly let his teeth ghost across his throat in a soft bite.
Ezekiel pressed close as he nipped at the mortal's nape a second time, and the tip of his tongue flicked out to taste him on his fangs, hissing to himself in satisfaction when the mortal sighed and leaned into him more. Whether he did it from shock, pleasure, or exhaustion, Ezekiel didn't know, and he didn't get the chance to find out.
He released the mortal's right hand so he could softly grasp the mortal's chin and Ezekiel lifted his head from the man's throat and analyzed at him.
The mortals eyes were fluttering open and closed, his mouth parted slightly as he continued to labor for his breath. Then, probably sensing Ezekiel's stare, the mortal eyes opened slightly. Green gems gazed back, looking lost and overwhelmed.
Wanting to shake himself but unable to help it, Ezekiel caressed the mortal's cheek with his thumb and lifted his chin. The confused flame that he glimpsed there in the man's glimmering eyes made him shiver. Fresh awareness pooled down inside of him, awareness that maybe he wasn't the only one feeling....whatever this was, this magnetism.
"Who are you?" And as the question tumbled from Ezekiel's lips, he was hit with the realization that he had pinned a literal stranger to the wall. And the fact that he was enjoying having pinned that stranger to the wall didn't slide past him either. The contact between their forms was oddly pleasing.
"What is your name?" he questioned the mortal softly.
"Uh? Who am I!? Are you serious!?" The mortal said suddenly, speaking for the first time since waking up in the room, "Let me go! I've said it like three times!"
His cool green gaze shot to the left and down the hall, then shot back to Ezekiel. He twisted and shifted against the paint, trying to pull his hands down, but he was trapped, and Ezekiel sensed that he knew that, too.
"Who am I!?" he said, giving Ezekiel's a shrewd glare. "Why the hell would I tell you that. Tell me who you are, and maybe I'll think about it."
"Answer the question....." Ezekiel began. He pushed in closer and snarled at him. "Before I make you regret attacking me!"
"Oh, was that a threat?" The stranger quipped, his eyes connecting with Ezekiels. "I don't respond well to those. Maybe you should rethink your fucking tone!" he challenged.
Ezekiel leaned back slightly at the man's teasing and almost arrogant tone. His vulgar mouth. He either didn't know what his current situation was, or he didn't fear it. Looking at his clear eyes, Ezekiel felt it was the former. He wasn't even a little bit frightened from what Ezekiels could see. Just....frustrated that he couldn't get free just yet.
"I don't care what you respond to intruder!" Ezekiel shook his head. He hissed, still trying to intimidate him. And sort of liking the fact that it wasn't exactly working. "Now, what is your name!?"
The mortal took a deep breath as if he were being highly put upon.
"OK. you want it?" He said suddenly, and before Ezekiel could restrain him, he leaned in and put his mouth next to his ear. "I'll tell you exactly who I am, blue boy..." He whispered in Ezekiel's ear. "I'm the last person on earth you should be touching so casually."
"What's that supposed to mean? And did you just call me Blue Boy?" Ezekiel growled, moving back to glare at the stranger. This conversation wasn't going how he thought it would at all. "Do you have any idea of the shit you're in?"
"Do you?" The mortal whispered with a quick sneer, then he only smirked at him, saying nothing else. Giving him nothing but that cool stare. There was no fear or rage, and instantly, Ezekiel got the impression of real danger from him, but it was more than that. It wasn't just danger. It was like seeing a feral cat or dog looking back at you. Wild. Unruly. Crafty. Skittish.
But the connection lasted only for a second, maybe less, before Ezekiel was suddenly snatched off the mortal. He was jerked back from the wall and thrown quite hard to his back. His head cracking against the wooden floor like a slab of cement made him shout and grab at his skull in pain and unpleasant surprise.
"Are you fucking kidding me!!?" Ezekiel heard his father's thundering voice snarl in rage from somewhere over him.
"Have you lost what little sense god gave you...!?" Mantilo hissed, crowding him, his brown eyes slit like a leopard and glowing yellow in righteous indignation.
Still unable to help himself, Ezekiel snarled as he rolled to his feet and turned back on his father. He couldn't have halted the disrespectful sound from rising in him if he had tried. He didn't like being separated from the mortal. His father had no right!
But just as fast as the anger came over him, it faded. As did his misplaced instinct to stake a claim. He felt lost for a second. The warmth of the mortals' skin was gone, as was the mortals scent. All he could see was his family, standing in front of him like a wall, blocking him from the mortal.
He could only catch glimpses of the stranger now between his families' shoulders. The mortal was crouched down in a ball on his knees in the spot where Ezekiel had released him. He didn't attempt to speak or attack. He just sat there in a ball of apparent agony.
Ezekiel looked at his siblings next because all three of his brothers were staring at him with bemused expressions. That clearly spelled out how deep in the shit he was. His mother looked downright worried. She was chewing her lip and alternated, looking between him and his father anxiously.
And his father was glaring right at him, his jaws clenched in anger. Knowing he was past the point of no return, Ezekiel tried to speak. "Dad..." he began.
"What did I tell you!!?" Mantilo snarled at him, using his voice to dominate him completely. Suddenly unwilling to anger his father any more than he already had, Ezekiel looked down and away from his burning eyes, conceding dominance with that small gesture. "I told you that mortal is dangerous! I command all of you to stay away from him!! What more do I have to say to make you obey my commands!?"
"Let me explain, you don't understand..." Ezekiel began once more speaking out of turn, only to have his father hiss and step toward him threateningly.