“You've done it now, Slut, now he'll know how dirty you are.” Keith smiled at her, his eyes empty and rotting. He took a step toward her, and she turned and ran naked through the trees.
“Run all you want, you can't run from your whoring life. You can't run from him knowing the truth about you,” Keith called as he ran after her.
“Did he say he loved you? I think not, do you know why? Because he feels pity for you! Who else would take you if he won't? I'll tell you... no one, Emily. No one wants you because you are ugly and worthless.” His voice echoed through the trees.
She screamed as his cold dead hands clamped against her arm.
“Shhhhh, Em, it's ok.” Chevalier was pressed against her side with one arm draped over her. She could feel his body against hers and she remembered.
Emily tensed under his arm and began to pull away when she realized she wasn't dressed, and the pounding in her head was growing worse after the dream.
“No you don't… you aren't leaving,” Chevalier told her, and his arm held her to the bed.
“I need to go,” she said, again trying to get up.
Chevalier kissed her shoulder lightly, “Go where?”
“Please… let me up.” She pried at his hand.
“Tell me where, and if I think it's a good enough reason, then I'll let you go.” He moved his hand to wrap it around her.
Emily pulled the blanket up higher to cover herself, but Chevalier grabbed it and lowered it again
“Stop it,” he said lightly.
“I'm cold.” She tried again, but he held the covers tightly.
“No you aren't, you are hiding.” He kissed a line from her shoulder up her neck, “Now go back to sleep and this time… ignore what Keith was telling you.”
“But...”
“You talk in your sleep.” He could feel the warmth from her blush and smiled.
She rolled onto her side away from him and glanced at the clock Kyle put in for her, it was almost 3am. She decided to stay awake and watch for 7am, but soon her eyes began to feel heavy and she was comfortable with him pressed against her back with his arms around her.
***
“Good Morning,” he whispered, kissing the tip of her nose.
She glanced at him. He was on top of the covers and fully dressed, smiling down at her. She could feel the blush rising to her cheeks, and she pulled the covers tighter around her.
Chevalier chuckled, “Gordon is almost here with your breakfast.”
Her eyes widened, “No! He can't come in here.”
“Why not?”
“Chevalier, stop him, please, don't let him in here!” The panic in her voice stopped his laugh and he got up to talk to Gordon in the ante-chamber. Emily took the opportunity to run for the bathroom, taking the bed sheets with her as a cover.
Chevalier entered the bathroom just as Emily was pulling on a robe and cinching it tightly around her waist.
“What was that about?” he asked, watching her.
“What was what?” She turned to look at him.
Chevalier just looked at her, waiting for an answer.
She sighed, “How many of your coven have you slept with, Chev?”
The question shocked him, but he held his face steady, “I don't see how that is relevant.”
“Oh… it's quite relevant.”
“How so?”
“Is it safe to assume the answer is a large number?” She walked past him out into the bedroom.
Chevalier followed her, not sure where this was going, “I wouldn't say large, per se.”
“That's it then… I don't want to be added to that number based on one lapse in judgment.” She sat down and picked at the eggs on her plate.
He grinned, “Is that what it was… a lapse in judgment?”
“Yes.” She pulled the robe down over her legs.
“I see, so… so you fear that Gordon will count you in with my many… shall we say… exploits?” He was enjoying this and it infuriated her.
“Exactly”
“Then do you care if I am counted along with your exploits?” He sat in the chair across from her casually.
She didn't answer, the blush rising quickly to her cheeks.
His eyes narrowed, then he started to laugh, “My God, Emily, how many men have you been with?”
She pushed the plate away, no longer hungry, “It's none of your business.”
“Oh do tell, you were quite good at it, so I can only guess at the high number.” He laughed harder as her blush grew darker.
The humiliation was too much and Emily briefly considered jumping off the balcony. He noticed her gaze and stopped laughing, studying the look on her face and the darkening blush. She walked over and began going through the closest wardrobe.
Chevalier wondered at her sudden silence and the body language showing she was extremely uncomfortable. His mind shifted to the conversation they had about Keith. She met Keith when she was 14, and then it struck him.
“Oh.” Was all he could manage.
After a long, awkward silence, he moved to her side as she rifled through the wardrobe, “I'm sorry, Em, I wasn't thinking… I guess I didn't realize it'd only been…”
“Don't… just don't say it… we shouldn't be talking about this.” She grabbed what she had her hand on and disappeared into the bathroom.
Chevalier decided to leave her alone. She seemed to need some time to adjust to what happened, and he was all too eager to make use of his private office. It was only a few seconds before he unlocked his office door and went to step in, but saw Storm running at him.
“Wait!” She called to him.
“Yes, Storm?” He hated how his voice sounded irritated with her.
She paused for a moment and then continued, “You promised a follow up with the Wilson case, Sir. He's no longer waiting patiently.”
“Not today, Storm.” She looked hurt but walked away from him.
He walked into the solitude his office provided and heard the door lock shut behind him. Ignoring the piles of papers and stacks of books, he sat in the large mahogany chair and buried his face in his hands.
“What was he doing?” he wondered.
How had he come so far as to seduce a child? He let his feelings take over and that was never safe, not when he'd spent his entire life gaining control of his most intrinsic emotions. He delved deeper into his mind and body, trying to figure out what it was with Emily that he couldn't live without, why she brought out such strong desires. He shuddered to think it could be love. He, the Chief Enforcer, didn't love, he commanded, he punished, he took, but he didn't love.
The image of Kyle sitting on her bed during the night brought the sudden rage back and he fought the urge to break something. She brought out his protective tendencies, which always led to violent ideations. There was so much to protect her from, not the