What I've discovered by re-reading the parts I've already written, though, is that I'm in love with both leads again. Susana Solos is an early-thirties career detective whose hatred of paranormal beings stems from a tragedy many years before, when she'd just graduated from the academy. Ryan (who for some reason doesn't yet have a surname!) was a police officer who was turned vampire against his will. They're forced to team up and the sparks fly (who'd a thunk it?!)
This particular snippet takes place on top of a skyscraper. I haven't settled on a city yet, but after my trip to the US in September-October, I'm leaning toward New York.
All the usual caveats apply, of course. Unedited, unfinished, unpolished...
* * * *
“You have to go so close to the edge, blood-boy?”
“Aw, sweet. You’re worried I’ll fall?”
“I’m worried I’ll push you.” I couldn’t keep the waver out of my voice. Ryan clearly noticed it, too.
“So it’s heights for you, huh? And smiling, of course.”
“What the hell are you—”
“Your biggest fears.” He stood on one leg and leaned way over the side. “It’s weird how phobias lose their edge when you discover they no longer have any power. Like when you realize you’re stronger than your father. And angrier. And it’s only habit that keeps you cowering.”
I couldn’t remember a time Ryan had spoken so freely.
“Daddy issues, deadman? Surprised you haven’t, y’know… dealt with that already. Bleh bleh and all that shit.”
He stood straight and adjusted his shoulders, casting off something invisible. Women’s intuition is nothing like vampires’ glamor, but suddenly there was a little crack I could wedge something sharp and irritating into.
“I mean, you’re lucky in a way, Bloodster. You can pass judgement on your daddy without worrying about hypocrisy.”
“Fuck you, Solos.”
“No, really. You know…'cause you’ll never be a daddy.”
At first I thought there was a chopper flying in from a distance. Then I realized it was Ryan. Growling.
Next thing I knew I was dangling over the edge of the building, suspended by the throat in the hydraulic grip of a pissed-off paranorm.
“You think just because it’s illegal that I won’t kill you, Solos?”
He emphasized the concept with a squeeze of his fingers. I grimaced, but managed to suppress the groan welling up inside me.
“Just make sure you do it all the fucking way, tick-boy. None of this half-assed undead shit.”
He darted his tongue across his mouth, his eyes wavering as he caressed the tips of his fangs. I knew enough about these freaks to know those points were like miniature cocks. That for him, licking those sharp little pricks was like rubbing himself.
“Getting off on something, leech?”
His eyes changed. They seemed to cross just a little, like his focus shifted to something an inch in front of my face. He stepped back and lowered me until I could get my toes onto the edge of the roof, but kept me leaning back over the abyss.
“Let go of me, deadman. I dare you.”
It felt as if his fingers rippled against my skin. A beast beneath his skin searching for a way through. His breathing grew slower and deeper. I thought for a second he was actually going to pitch me down to the street.
“Shut up, Solos.” It was barely more than a whisper. “Calm down… and shut up.”
“What do you care how calm I am?”
“Shh...” As he brought his other hand up to the line of my jaw he winced. Like he was fighting his own actions. He pressed his thumbs in against my neck on both sides and made circles, running his skin across the flesh beneath. Like it was my pussy and he was searching for my clit.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I was still supremely aware of the yawning mass of nothing behind me, and I needed for him to either drop me or pull me back to safety. My heart was pounding with the stimulation of imminent death.
Then it came to me. With every thud of my heart his eyes wavered, his breath pulsed. Like the throbbing of orgasm. He could feel my blood.
“You gotta be kidding, vampy! You’re getting off on me?”
Now his voice took on an almost serpentine sibilance. “You can’t possibly understand, Solos. It’s nothing to do with you. Right now you’re just a drug to me. It doesn’t matter how much of a bitch you are.”
A shudder passed through his body, loosening his grip, and I slipped backward slightly. A burst of adrenaline kicked through me and he sucked in a guttering breath, turned his face to the sky and bared his fangs. The primordial fear of predators gave me an extra kick in the heart and he moaned in response. He made small choking sounds, his face slackened, and I was sure I was a goner. Then he winced and pulled me forward, throwing me to my hands and knees on the concrete of the roof.
I heard him land on his back right beside me and I glanced over. He had tiny spasms wriggling through him, like nervous tics. Shrugging one shoulder. Balling his hands. Working his mouth.
His breath punched in and out for a moment. A final sough of release gushed from him and signaled an end to his epileptic dance.
“Was that what I think it was, Bloodster?”
“You don’t… understand us… at all, Solos.” A couple more ragged breaths. “Blood is not just our food. It’s… like our faith, and our dream, and… well, it’s like sex was when we were human.”
“So you really were getting off on my pulse?”
He simply nodded.
“You didn’t just come did you?”
“Y’know, Solos, if you truly want to fight us, you really should get to know us better.”
“You did! You fucking pervert!”
He shook his head. “It’s not like it is between humans. Or I suppose, it’s not like it is for a human male. I didn’t just shoot my load or anything. It’s more like for the human females. It’s a rippling sensation that passes through–”
“So, what do you call it? A goregasm?”
“That’s cute. Fuck you.”
“Thought you just did. Maybe you should get around in rubber gloves. Save you some embarrassing moments.”