~ CHRISTOPHER ~
Monday the 29th of May, 1989
Not caring about being late for class, I strode down the school corridor, humming an old Latin song. My nonno Reb used to sing it to help me fall asleep when I was a bambino, something my father would never have done. I felt much closer to my grandfather than my own papà, probably because he didn’t constantly put me down. Though, my grandfather had been acting strange of late, going from nice to brusque without reason, like what had happened after last night’s confirmation class. When I’d gotten home, he’d welcomed me back as if he hadn’t seen me for years, then he’d asked me odd questions, wanting to know whether I had a girlfriend, how I’d been doing at school, what things I liked, as though he didn’t know a thing about me. After drilling me, he then gave me a bone-crushing hug before sending me to bed, even trying to tuck me in like I was a child. Then this morning, he’d snapped at me when all I did was say good morning. He’d basically told me to bugger off, treating me like I was the last person he wanted to see. Maybe he’d been drunk last night, ending up with a hangover this morning. I just don’t remember smelling alcohol on him. Either way, he was acting weird as hell, well, weirder than normal, because he wasn’t exactly your average grandfather.
Thoughts of my grandfather instantly vanished at the sight of Catherine Lovich, the girl my favourite wet dream. She was standing at the other end of the corridor, sifting through her locker. She was wearing blue jeans and a Def Leppard T-Shirt, obviously having a thing for Metal, which I liked a lot. Not because of the bands, but because the shirts hugged her breasts perfecto.
Imagining what I wanted to do to them, I headed for her, purposely being quiet. Totally oblivious to me, she continued sifting through her locker, singing softly to a Bon Jovi song. Her voice was gorgeous, the slight wobble reminding me of the way Belinda Carlisle sang. And she certainly was Heaven on Earth, just not sweet-looking like Belinda. She was much, much sexier, the girl an instant hard-on.
Enjoying what I was hearing and seeing, I stopped behind Catherine. Her head was practically inside her locker as she continued to search for whatever she was after. I tapped her shoulder, causing her to let out a startled yell, banging her head on the locker in the process. I sniggered. I hadn’t intended on that happening, but it was still funny.
She dropped her bag and spun around, her eyes going wider than the Sahara, not to mention a striking green, the gold and brown having faded away.
“Sorry for scaring you,” I lied, her wide-eyed look making little Christopher stand to attention. Well, he wasn’t little. I unashamedly adjusted myself, causing her eyes to drop to my package. “It’s all for you, cara.”
Her eyes shot back up to me, anger now turning them brown. I blinked in surprise, thinking it was the coolest thing I’d ever seen, the green disappearing before my eyes.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she spat.
“You are.” I smirked. “You gave me hard-on-itis.”
She grimaced at me. “Firstly, who says things like that? And secondly, I have no interest in your Italian salami”—she indicted to my groin—“so back off.”
I started laughing. “My Italian salami?”
“Yeah, deflate it and get lost.”
“It’s not a blow-up toy.” I ran my tongue over my lip ring. “Actually, it can be for you.”
“Go away!”
I placed a finger to her lips. “Shh, you don’t want to get in trouble for being out of class.”
She smacked my hand away. “I’ve got a free period, dickhead, so faff off.”
I bit my lip to stop from laughing again, the girl hilarious. “What’s a faff and how can I get off on it?”
Her unusual eyes narrowed. “It means f-off.”
I cocked my head to the side. “What does f-off mean?” I asked, exaggerating my accent.
“I’m not swearing if that’s what you’re trying to do, so get lost. I’ve had enough of you.”
I smirked. “You can never get enough of me.”
She let out a frustrated growl and swiped up her bag. “If you’re not gone before I lock up, I swear I’ll smack that arrogant smirk right off your face.”
“Ooh, I’m shaking in my boots,” I said, layering on the sarcasm, the girl having no idea who she was dealing with.
She glared at me. “You should be, because I know karate.” She turned back to her locker.
Unable to stop from smiling, I placed my hand in my pocket, touching my rosary beads. Whispering the shielding incantation to protect us from prying eyes, I latched onto the waves of anger coming off her, smiling wider at the sexual excitement mixed in with it. I knew she was attracted to me, especially with the way she stared, but to feel her attraction through her emotions... It sent a wave of arousal through me, so intense that I wanted to spin her around and shove her up against the lockers, kissing the hell out of her. But I willed myself to stay where I was, afraid I would scare her.
Once she’d finished setting the dial, I placed my other hand on the locker next to her head, forcing my breathing under control, because I was practically panting for her. Catherine spun around, looking like she was going to shove me away. I quickly pressed up against her, trapping her arms. She froze like a deer caught in headlights, all her defiance drying up in a second.
Not having expected her scared reaction, nor liking it, I went to pull away, but stopped as she grabbed my hip. An excited flush lit up her cheeks, her breathing coming out raspy, confusing me, her emotions flipping faster than I could process. Her hand moved up to my chest. For a second I thought she was going to push me away, but it wasn’t her hand that almost knocked me back, but the sudden onslaught of emotions hitting me.
And it was coming from her.
She wanted me, even more than I’d realised.
I could feel the lust in her growing, my ability to sense emotions through my rosary a part of being a Merge.
“You’re so beautiful,” she said, making me blink in surprise. Because it wasn’t me who was beautiful.
It was her.
She had the most perfect face I’d ever seen. High cheekbones and dark lashes. While her long white hair gave her the aura of an angel, only her pouty lips negating her innocence. They looked like they were made for kissing, not to mention other, dirtier things. But it was her eyes that struck me the most. They were now a mix of green and gold, the brown gone. I let go of my rosary, no longer needing it to tell me how she was feeling, her eyes like mood stones, showcasing her emotions.
“You’re the beautiful one,” I finally said, almost stumbling over the words. The chemistry between us was so strong, letting go of the rosary not having lessened the impact. It didn’t feel right, something off about it, but I pushed it to the back of my mind, too caught up with Catherine to care.
Her pupils dilated, swallowing up a portion of her unusual irises. I knew mine were dilating too, probably blackening, the lust and infinite pull to her making it hard to breathe. I’d felt it the first time I saw her at the confirmation class, felt something draw my eyes to her. Had known she’d felt it too. She hadn’t been able to look away, struck by me, as I was struck by her. I’d never experienced that before. Not with any girl, no matter how beautiful they were.
I raised a hand to her cheek, running the back of my fingers down it, her skin so soft. She didn’t object, her earlier protests gone, her pretence shattered. I knew I annoyed her, but I also knew the attraction she felt for me could override that.
I leaned my head forward and pressed my lips against hers, revelling in the contact. Catherine responded, moving her lips against mine, not even hesitating. So inviting, the way she opened her mouth the sweetest invitation. I continued to kiss her, getting lost in the taste of her lips, in the tangle of our tongues.
As we kissed, I ran my fingers down her throat, still revelling in how soft her skin felt. So satiny smooth, a tease to my senses. I wanted to replace my fingers with my lips, tracing the line of her neck, but couldn’t rip them away from her mouth, her kisses intoxicating.
My fingers dipped beneath her shirt, brushing over a hidden necklace. Without warning, pain shot through my middle finger, an ice-cold shard biting into my flesh. I yelped and whipped my hand back, breaking our kiss. I shook my hand out, what had happened so similar to—
My eyes instantly snapped to her shirt, praying she wasn’t wearing a rosary. I reached forward, brushing her long white hair aside. A couple of blue beads were sticking out from beneath her T-shirt, causing me to whip my hand back even faster.
“You can’t be a Maris,” I said, in disbelief.
My grandfather had told me I would always recognise one, like the last Maris I’d come into contact with. I’d felt the overwhelming pull even before I’d seen him, the fire in my veins telling me to run. And I had. But the demon had caught up with me, torturing me, then almost drowning me, only my grandfather miraculously saving me from certain death. It was why my family had moved to New Zealand, since the Maris wouldn’t stop coming after me. But Catherine didn’t give off the same vibe. Not only that, the pull I’d felt with her was totally different—willing. She also didn’t have the right coloured eyes. All Marises had blue eyes, whether cerulean, aqua marine, or an ice-cold azure.
Not hazel eyes.
Never hazel eyes.
Plus, my rosary hadn’t reacted to hers like it had to the other Maris, only touching her beads warning me to back off.
And I did. I took a step back and pointed at the beads. “Why are you wearing the Maris rosary?”
I remembered the Maris who’d attacked me. The male demon may not have been wearing a physical rosary, but he’d had an image of one on his chest, the rosary having merged with his flesh. He’d also been wearing demonic black beads, the combination too powerful for me to fight.
Catherine looked down at her chest, then back up at me, her expression confused. “It’s just prayer beads a nun gave me.”
“Don’t lie,” I spat, angry I’d fallen for her ruse. “You’re a honey-trap, aren’t you? Here to lure me in like a Maris siren.”
The sea creatures from Greek mythology were one type of Maris. Like the myth proclaimed, they lured men to their deaths with their voices and beauty, Catherine having both. Not to mention the way she’d drawn me in, the intense connection I’d felt.
It was unnatural.
She’d done something, probably casting a demon spell over me. It could explain why her emotions had switched so suddenly, how she’d gone from scared to aroused within the blink of an eye.
She’d tricked me.
She screwed up her face. “Why would I lie? It’s just a rosary, so calm the hell down, you loon.”
“It’s not just a rosary.” I yanked out my red rosary from my pocket and pulled it over my head, getting ready to protect myself if she attacked me. “Like my Seraphim one. I made my eyes red to spook you the other day, I just didn’t realise you knew what I was. You obviously were leading me on, pretending not to know merda until you got me alone.”
Her face turned angry. “I wasn’t leading you on! I don’t want to be anywhere near your crazy arse. And why the hell would I care that you have a rosary?”
I grimaced at her. “You’re either a really good liar or ignorant as hell.”
She moved forward fast, shoving me back. “And you’re a complete prick!”
Anger flared through me. “Don’t touch me!”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Only minutes ago you were pressing your hard-on against me, now you don’t want me to touch you?”
“Now that I know what you are, I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“What am I?”
“Haven’t you been listening to me? A Maris.”
“Is that some sort of insult in your language or something? Because if it is, I’ll punch you in the face.”
I sneered at her. “Try it and see where it lands you, Maris, because I won’t allow another of your kind to hurt me ever again.”
“Another of my kind?”
I shook my head. “Why am I even talking to you? You’re a fucking demon.” I turned to leave.
She grabbed my arm, yelling something in Slavic at me.
I swung around, yanking my arm free. “I told you not to touch me!”
Her eyes widened. She quickly backed up into the locker, fear colouring her expression. I knew why. The fire inside of me had lit up my eyes, turning them from brown to red. I clenched my hands into fists, willing them to change back, the flames already trying to burst forth. But it wouldn’t stop, my panic and hers now fuelling the fire.
Needing to get away before I set her alight, I turned and burst through the corridor’s doorway. I sprinted through the school, upset that she was a Maris, but even more upset that I couldn’t do my duty: which was to burn her alive. Because like the Maris who’d tried to kill me, she belonged in Hell—with all the other demons.