( tether me )

Setting the glass down on the bar in front of the woman Clea chuckled and shook her head. She was smiling when she looked up looked up at the woman she was serving. ”Sorry, we’re not allowed to drink alcohol on the job, the offer’s appreciated though. I’ll take a soda if that’s OK with you?” Evangeline wouldn’t have appreciated her staff drunk on the job, hell, she never would’ve been unprofessional enough to do it even if her boss didn’t mind her staff taking a little nip now and again. She’d been a bartender long enough to know that keeping your wits about you was everything and you didn’t need to be buzzed to have your customers warming to you.

All she needed to do with this one was shoot her a smile. At the woman’s agreement Clea offered her thanks and poured herself a soda. She left it on her side of the bar as she stepped away to grab the woman’s change from the cash register. Some folks just appreciated that friendly touch.

And some had ulterior motives that even her prophetic little dreams couldn’t locate.

Turning back, Clea had no idea the woman had messed with her drink. She set her change down on the bar, sipped at her soda, made polite conversation until she had to move along to help someone else. It wasn’t until ten or fifteen minutes later she was back with the woman, topping her glass up and feeling the room start to spin around her. Clutching at the end of the bar, Clea sucked in a breath, trying to figure out what was going on. ”I’m fine,” she told the woman as she slipped from her stool, a giggle punctuating her words. The little voice in the back of her head muttered what the hell but she was already melting against the woman’s side as she was guided towards the back door of the Grill. ”You’re so helpful,” Clea crooned as the woman told passersby she just needed some air. ”So pretty too. I love your hair.” She tried to twist in the woman’s arms to run her hairs through it but the woman was manhandling her.

The door clanged behind the two of them and Clea twirled away, sinking back against the wall to stare up at the sky. It was pretty out here too, stars already beginning to peek through. The woman crowded in to her, lips grazing her neck in a way that had her planting her hands on the woman’s shoulders, trying to push her back. ”I normally don’t neck until the second date, a woman’s gotta avoid looking easy ya know. Maybe … just … hey! No teeth! Clea grumbled, shoving with her hands again, a cluck of her tongue rolling out in censure. The woman’s teeth had grazed her throat, leaving a trace of warmth behind. Clea lifted her hand, touching it to her throat. Her fingers came back bloody, instead of yelling she giggled again. ”Ooops, just a little too much.” The woman was stepping back though, turning away as a voice rolled from the other end of the alleyway, almost like it was coming down a tunnel, all distorted.

Legs feeling weak, like she’d drunk the bar dry after all, Clea went to sink down to the ground but then the woman was shoving at her. Tripping over her own feet Clea fell against someone, bigger than the woman, the firmness of muscles beneath her hands so solid. She propped her arms against his chest as he seemed to hold her up. Tipping her head back she looked up, up and up until she reached velveteen eyes surrounded by dark lashes, a face all strong lines like his body. Oh hello. ”My knees are certainly weak for one reason or another,” she promised, patting his chest. Her eyes dropped as she did, focusing on the feel of his chest as she ran her fingers over it, lost in the way it felt beneath his shirt.

Clea wasn’t sure she entirely heard his question, a low hum her only answer to whether or not she’d been drugged. She was focused on his shirt buttons, her fingers fiddling with one like she was trying to pop it through the hole. ”Big house,” she told him as her knees began to really give out this time.”Not so big now with Cassie and Craig. They fill it up. You’d fill it up.” Her grin lit up her face as she looked up at him, slowly slithering down him as she headed for the floor. The hand she’d fiddled at his buttons with gestured in the direction of her house on the outskirts of town.

Tagged: DAMIAN * Word Count: 787

Pretty faces in this town were ten a penny. Being supernatural seemed to come with the caveat that you were stunning. Maybe it just amplified what was there, making you stronger, amplifying pretty eyes and confident smiles. Maybe it was just in the water. Either way Clea was pretty sure she should’ve been immune to them by now but as she wavered on her feet in front of the guy she’d careened into she got caught up in his. Mischief shone in the smirk that tugged at his lips, leaving her snorting as she drifted back and forth a little, her teeth scraping over her lower lip. ”Most definitely. Swoon.” Clea almost did what she suggested, swaying a little violently as she mimed the action.

If she’d had her wits about her she’d have been a little more coy about the whole thing but any cool had been stripped away by … Clea frowned for a moment, blinking hazily as she went to turn around. She’d been working hadn’t she? Serving the … oh hello. The concern she’d suddenly felt melted away as he dropped his chin a little, that smirk still there. Those dark eyes rolled, leaving her tutting at him as she swatted gently at him with her other hand. She almost had the button out of the hole, his shirt gaping a little as the fabric shifted. Her focus was on that little glimpse of bronzed skin. ”Hmm?” she crooned. Clea’s tongue peeked between her teeth as she tried to do what he said, only in the wrong direction. She was so almost there when her legs started to go.

One minute the world was starting to spin around her, tilting wildly as she started to fall, the next she was swooping up in the air. Clea let her head fall against one meaty bicep, her gaze drifting over his face from up closer now. ”Up, up, up,” she sang lightly. A crooked grin tugged at her lips as she wrapped one arm around his neck. The other hand came up to toy with the collar of his shirt, fingers dipping inside to feel his pulse. ”Taking me home on the first date. Scandalous.” The though had her snorting. Letting her head fall back further, she stared up at the stars as he started to walk, her fingertips tracing the constellations on his skin. ”I was being a good bartender,” she told him honestly. ”Drink, drink, drink.” Huh. That had her thoughts skittering again before she drifted back around.

Nibble. Mmm. That she wouldn’t complain too much about. No drawing blood. That crap hurt.

Clea swallowed, feeling the little pin pricks of pain in her throat but not paying much attention to them as she drifted along, caught up in the tide of him moving. Her fingers continued their trails, her smile brightening and dimming every time her gaze swung to his face. Her interest piquing each time before it swam away. Sky, then ceiling, then that pretty face again. Clea snorted, starting to shift in his arms to try and get down. ”There’s only one body I’m minding right now,” she promised wickedly. One blue eye winked at him as the heat started to rise beneath her skin again.

He set her down, her body melting into the softness of cushions. A low purr went up out of her as she reached out to hook her fingers in the waistband of his pants. ”I’d be better if you were down here with me. You promised to nibble … or …” She had. Frowning, Clea squinted up at him. The woman had been there, lips on her neck before there’d been a sting. Clea raised her other hand, brushing fingertips at her neck again. That little bite of pain and heat, against the backs of the fingers brushing against his skin, against her other palm. ”Too warm. Got all heated up.” Pooching out her bottom lip, she blew air, meaning to waft it over her own face but blowing it over the hand she had hooked in his waistband instead. Ooops.

Tagged: DAMIAN * Word Count: 684

She was probably only getting one word in five. The rest seemed to be swimming in and out, like a radio station losing its tuning. The minute a word seemed to come into focus something else caught her attention and she drifted again, losing whatever else was said. Clea chuckled huskily, swaying back and forth on her feet as she used him to prop herself up. ”I’m always honest, which is why I can say you’re just as pretty as your sister. Prettier.” There was a purr to her voice as she traced a fingertip in a circle around the button she was working on. Honesty had always been her thing, even if it wasn’t always appreciated, or ended up with her having to wash liquor out of her pants when she told someone something they obviously weren’t keen on hearing. Clairvoyance of any kind was a curse.

There hadn’t been any hint of this though had there? No tall dark stranger, no neck nibbling, no …whatever had happened. What had happened?

Any consideration of that disappeared with a little pop inside Clea’s mind as she did just as she had threatened and had swooned right into his arms. He could’ve let her hit the floor, left her there in the alleyway for Eva or one of the other staff to find when they eventually came looking for her but instead she seemed to float up into the air. Clea let out a low moan of pleasure, tracing her fingers in a circle just inside of his collar. ”Take me home James,” she crooned. ”Your home.” As he mentioned her drink Clea seemed to focus for a moment, her own mouth parting slightly as she stared at his lips moving. ”Just a soda. Can’t drink on the job, might get drunk. I can play dirty there though.” A wicked glint drifted into her eyes like a Magic 8-Ball revealing a true glimpse of the woman beneath for a moment.

That woman drifted again as he got her into his home and set her down on the couch. The drugged one returned, growing heated in her skin, her thoughts skittering from place to place. Affectionate, lusty, her mind muddied by what was working its way through her system. Clea tucked her chin towards her chest, her grin definitely bordering on wicked now, an imp with big blue eyes and zero inhibitions at that moment. ”I can talk the birds from the trees,” she promised. ”You’re a big bird though, not one of the little ones.” Looking up at him from her position on the couch, her fingers tethered in the waistband of his pants she had to look all the way up. Blonde hair tumbled over her shoulder as she frowned up at him. ”She wanted to bite,” she managed in another moment of clarity. Her brows rose, the thought drifting as all others did.

A dreamy smile touched her lips to replace that frown, a mock gasp slipping from her lips as he caught her wrist, banded those long fingers around it. ”That’s my biggest talent,” she promised, winking up at him. ”I never met a limit I didn’t want to test. Push, always pushing.” Push, push, push. The word echoed in her mind as he released her and she sank back against the cushions.

Clea curled onto her side, dragging one of the cushions beneath her head as she watched him walk away with undisguised appreciation in her eyes. Just as good as the front. As he returned with the band aids, she looked from what he had in his hands up and up to that devilishly handsome face again. ”No Spongebob ones?” She pouted but it melted away as she glanced down at herself as if trying to remember where she was bleeding. It wasn’t a knee or her finger he went for, not like when she’d sliced her finger and the lime alike a few months ago. He soaked a towel in the liquor, then pressed it to her neck without warning. Clea slapped out a hand, fisting it in the front of his shirt as she turned the air blue with swear words. Her breath came in pants as the bite of it settled to a burn that left a whimper under her words. ”It has a ring,” she admitted with a smile. ”Clea …. Cleeeeeeeeea.” She drew the word out as though it had a dozen syllables. Tipping her head back on the couch to bear her throat to where he was working at her skin in a way that left warmth behind, she snorted. ”It’s not my fault you’re a taaallllll boy.” Blue eyes narrowed faintly as she loosened her grip on his shirt to trail her fingers up over his chest, up the side of neck and up to the top of his head as though measuring him. Very tall boy.

Tagged: DAMIAN * Word Count: 818

The giggle was out of her mouth before she could even lift a hand to hold it back. Clea tried to, her snorts muffled as she finally managed to lift a hand off of his chest. It moved at the speed of mud, her drug addled balance far quick to have her swaying back violently before she peeled her hand away and threw it out to grab at his shirt like a lifeline. ”A bed wetting soggy potato wedge, so attractive,” she snorted. The words ugly duckling swam up in her mind only to be lost again. There was no ugly as far as she could see, just that pretty face looked down at her as she held on to him like a port in a storm.

She supposed the comparison was even more apt as he swept her off of her feet. Did she still have feet? It all felt strangely numb. Lifting her head slightly, Clea swung her feet up to stare at them. Yep, still right there, although she wouldn’t have known it. Luckily he had it all in hand, had her in hand. He was sweeping her off to his home, a journey that left her feeling like she was floating. Maybe it had been what was in the drink … there’d been a drink … when she’d been behaving herself. The thought had left her frowning faintly until she’d fixed on something he’d said. Grinning wickedly, she ran a fingernail lightly over the hollow of his throat, tickling the spot. ”Tell me something like that and I might just take advantage…” she crooned, completely unaware that it was like the other way around at the moment. As he called her the innocent one, Clea threw her head back, almost unseating herself from his arms and let out a husky laugh. ”Mmm … no … never so innocent. No fun being an angel.” Especially not when you had a vampire draining you for it. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, she tapped her fingers lightly along the line of the artery in his neck.

It was almost like she blinked then and ended up out of the street and in his home. The couch was cool against her back, his skin oh so warm against the back of her fingers as she wriggled them under the waistband of his pants. She drew in a breath through her nose, let it out in an mmm-hmm as she tried to reel him in with her fingers. ”Real big,” she promised, all guile as she trailed her fingers back and forth against his skin. He knew it too, that was a smirk on his lips as she dropped her gaze to them. Clea preened, her smile almost sleepy as she aimed it at him. ”Just don’t bite as hard as she did,” she warned with a cluck of her tongue. The woman had hurt, turning what had been pleasurable into that burning pain.

The pain drifted away like smoke as she curled on the couch and watched him disappear and appear again. She watched him return, her sleepy smile growing as he brandished band aids, until she realised they weren’t yellow. A pout flicked into place, disappeared again as she frowned at his hands in concentration and then shrugged. ”Second best,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

Not that what was on them mattered when he pressed the towel he’d soaked to her neck again and seemed to set fire to the wound. Clea clutched at him, a whimper rolling from her throat as the swear words tailed off. She kept her grip on him as he gentled his touch with an apology but didn’t let go entirely. ”Mmm, me too,” she promised, unsure what she was saying it in response to. Her smile grew as he said her name, liking the sound of it on his lips. Damian. ”I like that too,” she drawled. ”Damian.” The sound drawled out on a purr in her throat. Blue eyes narrowed though, her hand patting his cheek as she dropped it away from the top of his head. ”Maybe but you wouldn’t have been as pretty.” She remembered just enough about things body hopping to know that they didn’t always go for the Hollywood type.

Maybe if he’d gone for fifty and portly, she wouldn’t have dropped her hand down to curl it around his elbow as he gently pressed the band aids in place. Clea held on, frowning faintly as he tried to put her to bed. Blinking owlishly at him, she gripped his sleeve and pulled him in. ”You’re making me sleep alone?” She pooched out her bottom lip, using her other hand to pat the narrow stretch of couch in front of her. ”And there I thought you liked me.” Playing coy, she looked up at him with big blue eyes as she tried to pull him in. She was still warm, could feel more heat radiating off of him but he was solid beneath her grip and she wanted to wrap herself around him with that voice rumbling against her neck.

Tagged: DAMIAN * Word Count: 855

Everything was dulled … her thinking, her awareness of the world around her, her senses, except for the ones tuned into him. Every move or thought slow and weighty, like a heavy blanket had been tossed over her. Over them. Everything of him was in stark detail, the solidity of his bicep against her back, the heat of his skin against the back of her fingers, the rumble that vibrated through her bones as he grumbled and chuckled. All of that Clea was sure had imprinted itself into the very centre of her somehow. Imprinted. Just like the flashes of his sister.

She’d teased, drawn her out, played upon that propensity to flirt and enjoy and … no angel. She’d been a devil instead … biting … taking into something else before she’d tumbled into that dark tunnel and straight into him.

Clea hummed low in her throat as she looked up at him, a wicked glint in her blue eyes that her parents had rapidly learned was a precursor to her plunging into trouble up to her neck. Nobody who knew well enough was around to stop her this time, only temptation on legs and his lack of a promise did nothing to dampen the temptation. She continued to trail her fingers along his throat, caught in the sensation of his skin on hers and that thud of the pulse through his flesh. ”Then don’t,” she told him simply. ”Don’t stop me now.” The quoting of Queen had her giggling, her thumb trailing along the hint of collarbone exposed by the open neck of his shirt as she tried to bite down on it. She saw him quirk an eyebrow at her and did the same in an echo as she snorted. ”Nope,” she announced, letting the P pop on her lips. ”They get bitten in the non-fun way too. Mmm, vampire jerks have odd tastes.” As she fixed on what he said about sticks being shoved up angel arses, her mouth gaped for a moment before she snorted. ”That’s no fun.” And that was meant to be the basis of everything wasn’t it?

It had been with the woman for a moment, before she’d turned, turned on her. The bite had been shocking after that humming pleasure. Fun giving way to that bite of fear and pain to that low grade pleasure that had sung under her skin until he started cranking it back up one flirty notch at a time.

Oh, there it was. Clea grinned smugly as she saw that change in her eyes. She’d had enough fun with people over the years to know exactly when she hit that little spot, knew the signs that someone was willing to flirt back just as hard and boy had she hit it now. Clea returned that smirk, wriggling a little as she shrugged. ”Oh, I try to be.” A temptress, a decent mom, an incredible bartender. A good person. He might’ve been talking about temptation but underneath all of that she was sure she could see a good person in Damon too.

He grew tender with his touch as she stiffened against the pain of it, didn’t moan when she grabbed at him and squeezed when hissing it out didn’t work all the way. He didn’t even call her a wimp for whimpering like a kid with a skinned knee. Bit by bit she eased her grip, relaxing as he cleaned her throat, until she’d trailed her fingers up to the top of his head and back down to his cheek again. That got his dark eyes back on hers, looking like they had galaxies that she couldn’t look away from. Damian had her laughing though, the sound rolling out of her as Clea trailed her thumb around the corner of his mouth. ”Not as pleasurable a one anyway. He might’ve made a decent nurse.” Yikes. The thought had her grimacing for a moment before that too slipped away like smoke.

Pleasant was what Damian had been from the start. Caring, careful with her, as though she were fragile or precious. Chivalrous. Like some night of old, prepared to let her give in to the tug of whatever was in her system. Sleeping it off, that was what she was meant to be doing wasn’t it? He’d told her too, but she reached out, got her fingers tangled in to his shirt again. ”Pffft,” she puffed, not giving up her grip. ”Please?” There was a thin thread of something a little fearful in her voice, a memory of the woman that threatened to surface. ”Just til I fall asleep…” It was a child’s argument added to those pleading eyes and the flutter of lashes. She had him, the minute Damian breathed out that curse she knew he was about to cave. Clea tried not to look satisfied as she scuttled back an inch, then he was taking off his suit jacket and stretching out next to her. Making a happy little noise she rolled back in against his side. One arm sliding around his waist, her fingers finding their home under the edge of his waist band, seeking skin again, her head nestling into the crook of his shoulder. She hooked a leg over his, locking herself into place and feeling that heat radiate from him to her. It sizzled under her skin, had nerves lighting up. ”Warm,” she breathed. Her lips found his throat as she murmured, nuzzled that point where his pulse thrummed under his skin.

Tagged: DAMIAN * Word Count: 921

Good taste but few had stuck around long enough for her to indulge it. More often than not they turned out to be jerks in one way or another, including the vampire who’d poured his drink down her pants after she’d called him out on feeding on an angel. Clea’s smile at his compliment over her taste melted away and gave rise to a frown, her nose wrinkling in concentration for just a heartbeat. ”It burned,” she said with confusion, the words floating up out of her memory. It was all he’d said to her when she’d suggested that feeding on the angel must’ve hurt. Tilting her head, she stared up at him, her eyes fixed on his mouth as though she could decipher what he was saying by the shape of his lips instead of just traced the tip of her tongue over her own lower lip, wondering if his kisses would burn or leave her burning. ”Uh huh,” she murmured, levering herself up to see if she could set her lips against that pulse but frustratingly she couldn’t get close enough. ”No vampires on the guest list … can’t get in anyway.” She’d had SJ make sure of that. With Craig and Cassie at the house now she wasn’t taking any chances.

Or she’d thought she hadn’t. That had been an absolute failure, she’d still ended up in the alleyway, close to being vampire chow before her knight in a suit turned up.

Looking up at him she tried for guilelessness, at least she thought she had. Lashes fluttered, her chin dropped before he had her laughing. Odd wasn’t something she was unfamiliar with being called but most were less drawn to it and more dragged in when she refused to let them back away. ”You found an oddity now, I promise.” She winked slowly, exaggeratedly, swiping a finger in a cross over her chest. An odd ball temptress, she’d take that, especially when the person calling her both things had her decidedly hot under the collar. Her fingers trailed around the neck of her uniform shirt, the skin beneath feeling scorching to her. ”Drat,” she announced with a pout. Her blue eyes narrowed faintly before that wicked grin crept back in. ”I’ll have to make do with you then.” He was a thousand times better than Bob would’ve been at least.

His touch had grown tender, cleaning her up gently until she felt his fingers pressing the band aids against her neck. Gentle all the way, gentlemanly as he tried to leave her there on the couch alone. A shiver of fear, a shiver of something else had her pleading with him to stay. Clea swallowed hard, half expecting him to just pat her on her head and tell her she’d be fine but then he’d caved, slipping onto the couch with her. ”Thank you,” she breathed against his neck as she rolled into him. Her eyes fluttered shut, her fingertips stroking back and forth against the skin of his waist. A soft snort rolled out. ”Too sweet to head there,” she promised, her voice drifting out as her body let the drug finally drag her under. She was barely aware of the brush of his fingers over her hair, soothed enough by the touch that she drifted into sleep.


It felt like hours, maybe days later, that she started to come around. An inch of awareness at a time. A heartbeat against her cheek, the soft rise and fall you only ever got when you had your cheek against someone else’s chest. Comforting, soothing … alarming. Sucking in a breath, she opened her eyes, turned her head slowly to squint up at the man she’d plastered herself over in sleep. She’d rolled into him, her legs slotting between his at some point, her arms bracketing his upper body, one hand pressed to the solid plane of his chest. Him. There definitely hadn’t been a him when she’d left the … she hadn’t. Her brain started working a thousand miles a minute as she carefully tried to lever herself up. She’d … she’d been working … there’d been someone … oh God. Letting out a faint moan, she peeled a hand off of him to cover her aching eyes. ”What in the holy hell?” She had been working, hadn’t intended to stay afterwards, not with Craig and Cassie waiting at home but obviously she had, had managed to party something fierce too, only that didn’t sound right. Feeling him stir beneath her, Clea froze, blue eyes meeting brown when his opened. ”Hi,” she breathed. Awkward but how could this situation be anything but?

Tagged: DAMIAN * Word Count: 781

She’d had people fight for her before. Friends, a sister to stand beside, while she’d taken on things that nobody should ever have had to see, but there’d never been conviction like this. Thoughts and feelings were still slippery as eels but the steel in his voice as he promised to pay her … his sister … pay caught her attention, had Clea swallowing hard as her chin dipped in a nod. She’d never wanted anybody hurt, hadn’t even liked killing the things that had been hurting others but this had been her own life flashing behind her eyes, no matter how briefly. An angel saving her from a demon. Thank God. A hum of relief sounding in her throat before it turned to frustration as she couldn’t latch her lips to his throat. He’d kept her safe so she could do the same for Craig and Cassie. ”Your wise little one,” she admitted with a wink. Well versed in the ways now thanks to her sister and damn proud of it as she sunk back down.

She never had done coy well, it was easier to be obvious and she was certainly being that as she dipped her chin and looked up at him. All big blue eyes and sweetness that melted with a husky chuckle. ”Mm hmm,” she crooned. Lucky like a leprechaun and she was caught in in the flames heating up his pot of gold. Hot, skin burning as she brushed over it, fingers pulling at the fabric to try and bare it, to cool herself down. Back and forth, the neck easing slightly lower with each pass. ”Humble?” No. He wasn’t that, Clea thought with a grin, as she nodded, but that didn’t matter. If she’d done for him what he’d done for her, she wouldn’t have been humble either. He’d been her protector, her saviour, her Florence Nightingale and her Bob the Builder all rolled into one.

If only she’d remembered half of that when she woke up what might’ve been hours or days later. There was another body there, the solid warmth against herself that she’d missed like a limb cut off since Noah had left town almost two years ago. A bone deep comfort to it that rapidly vanished with the shift and roll of the mist in her memory. Work. A night out after? No. She wouldn’t have. God, why wasn’t it making itself clear with that painful clarity that always came when you realised you’d done something majorly embarrassing the night before. She always remembered, unfortunately, alcohol never quite managing to obliterate those moments. She didn’t remembered taking him home though. And she definitely would’ve done, Clea thought.

He was a pretty one, chiselled jaw, Hollywood heartthrob looks, big. Blue eyes drifted down, down, down long legs, shot back up as he stirred under her. Clea’s lips twitched in a slightly bashful smile. ”True love in one night …” she laughed breathlessly, feeling the nerves flutter in her stomach, ”…I guess I haven’t lost my touch after all. How … how long were we asleep for?” The hand she’d covered her eyes with slid down to her chest, felt the t-shirt still safely on her. Not naked at least. She set her hand down, froze again as she realised she’d settled it on his chest. Solid beneath her touch, oh boy.

Funny. Had she ticked him off as funny in her head too? No, no, she didn’t think so but he had her snorting anyway as she glanced around them. Definitely not her place. ”You can say that again,” she murmured. Her fingers curled faintly against his chest as she began to try and slip over his thigh, off of him. ”We didn’t? Maybe I’m off my game after all.” Heat began to rise in her cheeks as she looked down at him, her legs now either side of one of his thighs, leaving her straddling him. Clea let her eyes drop to his mouth, rove over those heartbreaker features before they met his eyes again. Her own going wide she shook her head. ”What happened last night? Before the snuggling.” Although with the way her body was reacting to his, with heat instinctively pooling under her skin subconsciously she seemed to be turning herself into a liar. Some part of her definitely remembered him.

Tagged: DAMIAN * Word Count: 725