Ryssa Edwards . . . It's a romance thing . . .: Silver Flash

Here we are again for the Silver Flash!

Come on in and a read a bit.

This week's prompt is. . . "It was 4 am and . . . "

Marek and Brody's story continue. . .

Broken Promise, VIII

Marek called it a road. Brody called that a joke. Trees crowded near on either side of the rocky dirt path. Up ahead was the fortress Marek called a house.

Greyson stopped. A tall iron gate loomed over them, its black horizontal bars fatter than light poles. Marek pulled out his phone, speed-dialed and spoke in what Brody knew was the Old Tongue. A few seconds later, the gate parted in utter silence and revealed thin jagged teeth-like projections. Brody was sure those steel jaws could snap shut any second. Anything that wasn’t out of the way fast enough would have to be flossed out.

He hated this part the most. They were trapped between two gates, the one behind them, and its twin in front of them. Red light probed the truck, leaking through the windows like pale blood. Marek said they were ‘sniffers’. If something smelled wrong, a few thousand volts would fly. Instant barbecue in a box.

“No need to be afraid.” Marek drew Brody into his arms, smoothed his hair back and kissed his forehead. “You’ve had very long nights, my little heart. It would please me if you went up to my rooms when we go inside.”

That was Marek’s way of saying he didn’t want Brody to see what Julian might do to the Hunter. But it was 4 A.M. and no, Brody was most definitely not going upstairs in the vampire king’s house. What Marek called his rooms was the entire third floor. No electric light. No windows. It was shadowy, creepy and too damn dark. After sleeping under a bed, waking up to Greyson and his personal arsenal and then getting trapped in a circle of vampires armed to the fangs, no way.

“I’m staying with you,” Brody said. “I know it’s vampire business. But I’m not going up there without you. Not tonight.”

The look that came over Marek’s face always tickled Brody. The king of vampires wasn’t used to hearing no. “I’ll send Greyson with you,” he said.

Brody put on a puzzled expression. “I’m thinking but . . . no . . . I don’t remember saying I wouldn’t go without Greyson. Do you?” He leaned into Marek’s unyielding body, and let the tension flow out of him. Somehow when Marek was near, everything was right with his world. “And anyway, you feel too good.”

“I can feel much better.” Marek tilted Brody’s head back for a kiss. ”Do you want to know what I’ll do to you when I go up there and find you naked in my bed?”

Oh yeah. Brody wanted to know that almost as much as he wanted Marek’s kiss to last roughly forever. Greyson got the truck moving, but Brody barely noticed because Marek pulled him onto his lap, and kissed down the side of his neck. “I’ll make you say my name all day long,” he whispered.

Writhing on his lap, Brody undid Marek’s shirt and ran his fingers over his hard chest, down to his ridged belly. God. He wanted more. A whole lot more. Giving into the feverish need firing through him, Brody said, “You won’t take long?”

“Knowing you’re waiting for me? Naked between my sheets?” he said. “No. Such beauty and pleasure is meant to be enjoyed.” He kissed Brody. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.”

His arms around Marek’s neck, Brody yielded to his mate’s sweet, tender kisses, and would have given in completely if not for the shadow that fell over them.

Greyson must have powered the window down. A blast of cold air made Brody press closer to Marek.

“He’s healthy.” The Hunter’s body was draped over Julian’s arms. His hard, unforgiving eyes were on his brother. “Just lost a little blood is all.”

EXTRA! EXTRA!
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Back to our regularly scheduled programming. . . .

Flashers on stage this week are . . .