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A Lovely Stroll Through the Woods:
An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle
“Why don’t we take this into the tent, hmm?” she suggested in the sultriest tone that she could manage while hanging upside down over her mate’s shoulder only to once again be ignored.
He was going to be difficult today.
That was fine with her, because she knew how to handle him when he got like this. He’d ignore her for a while before the glaring started and then he’d go back to ignoring her while she did her best to look sweet and innocent until he eventually caved, and he always did, and then she would make it up to him by doing all those naughty things that he seemed to love and by morning all would be forgiven.
Knowing that it was just a matter of waiting him out, she simply settled more comfortably over his shoulder and waited for him to place her by the fire where he could make sure that she knew that he was ignoring her. She would sit there and make sure that she looked miserable, adding a sad little smile and a sniffle every few minutes so that he knew just how sorry she was about the whole pit thing.
When the time was right, and these things had to be appropriately timed, she would think about the ending to City of Angels, let her eyes tear up and add another sniffle to let him know just how miserable she was when he was mad at him. He’d fight it of course, throw her a glare and got back to ignoring her, but by the time the first tear spilled down her cheek she’d have him and they both knew it.
From there it was only a matter of time before mumbled something about dropping it and pulling her in his arms so that she could partake of his delicious blood that she desperately needed. While she was there, straddling his lap, she would make sure to grow restless and shift on his lap, teasing him into forgetting all about that nasty fall into the pit.
It would take time, a little patience on her part, but before nightfall she would have him right where she-
“Where are we going?” she asked when she realized that they weren’t heading back to the tent where she could move things along.
“I thought I’d give you another chance,” he said, placing her on her feet in the middle of small field surrounded by trees.
“Another chance?” she asked, looking around as she discretely tried to scent the air to pick up on his mood, but thanks to the “miracle” cure the Sentinel council had given her that was no longer working her senses were no longer as sharp as they once were.
“To run,” he said, making her laugh, because of course he couldn’t be serious.
“If you can make it back to the tent before I can catch you, then all is forgiven,” he said, his eyes flashing crimson red as he gave her what she could only describe as a “Dexter” worthy smile.
Licking her lips nervously, she said, “You’re kidding, right?”
“One,” he said, making her laugh, because he had to be kidding.
“Two,” he said, making her throat go dry.
“There’s no way that I could outrun you,” she pointed out.
“I’m sorry about the cave, but in my defense that looked like a really good place to bury someone alive,” she rushed to explain, hoping that it would be enough.
“What happens when you get to ten?”
“He could still be there,” she pointed out, somewhat desperately, hoping to distract him.
“We could find another Pyte. Just think about it, Caine. All we have to do is go back to that cave and-”
“Shit!” she said with a groan as she turned around and ran towards the woods.
“Oh, come on!” she yelled as she stumbled through the woods, having absolutely no idea where she was going or what he was going to do when he caught her, and they both knew that he was going to catch her.
“It was just a matter of-”
To be continued…
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