Just Lucius and me alone in his room, completely naked. His towering height and firm hands hold my tail in a tight grip; the scent of his neck overwhelms my senses. I can see every single one of his muscles tensing. I turn around for him, letting him know I need him inside me. He bends me over, kisses cascading down my back, his strong fingers pressing into my waist. I twist my neck to look at him; our eyes meet, but Lucius changes his mind and lifts me into his arms, carrying me toward the bed. Tenderly, he lays me down face-to-face, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He showers my mouth with a thousand kisses while thrusting into me with the force of a bull, making me scream and dig my nails into his Michelangelo-carved back. I came here looking for his wild side, and now I'm a million times more inflamed than ever by his touch—because he's chosen to make love to me with the exact blend of power and delicacy that makes me believe he craves me like no one else and loves me like no other.
"I love you," he tells me.
"I love you," I say every time he drives into me.
I clench around him, letting him push deeper, right to the edge where pain and pleasure meet, and then a little further.
I start shaking uncontrollably. There is something else in the air, something I can sense—like a sacred presence, as if the very source of life itself were watching us, waiting for the right moment to free us from the passage of time and grant us immortality.
Lucius moves slowly toward my neck, his mouth open, pressing against my skin, biting down to quicken my breathing and push me into an orgasm. He succeeds. He leaves me ecstatic, ready to surrender to a new tremor rising from my belly, begging for more. He grips my breasts firmly; they're so sensitive he could break me if he wanted, but his hands protect me, and that sends me over the edge. Together, we bring this dance of pleasure to a deep climax, where I feel a piece of his spirit remain inside me forever.
I sense that life-giving presence—the one I can still make out as flickers hovering over us in the room—give me a slight bow before dissolving into a thousand trails of blue smoke that slowly fade away.
I can't explain what the hell is in Monaco's air, but without a doubt, it was the strangest night of my life, one where guilt and self-reproach didn't even cross my mind.
Watching Lucius sleep beside me, I realize something, my friend; maybe you noticed it before I did. It's a formula of proximity that my heart, divided between two brothers, follows without hesitation, without doubting for a single second. All my love pours out completely to whichever one is closest to me: Killian first, Lucius second. But no one can stand against the two of them, nor can one ever erase the other. I'm convinced I'll never be able to purge them from my soul, that I'll never turn the page and run into anyone else's arms. Real life isn't like novels, is it? You can't just say, "I'm going to marry Killian," and pretend you won't still crave Lucius taking you as if your whole body belonged to him. Here I am, head over heels in love with this perfect man, unable to push away the thought: what if his brother walked through the door right now, saying, "Hey, baby... come to my bed"? I know I'd follow him with a smile, because I love him too.
Bruce, Evangelina... my body responds to them. Even to Moetia's elegance. I must even confess to you, my soul sister, that for a split second, while watching Pablo—the contractor sweet Charlotte desires—I pictured him having his way with me in the freight elevator of that construction site. Beauty feels erotic to me, necessary. But love sits a thousand miles above all that. To me, Lucius and Killian are the pinnacle of all my passions, the very reason for my existence, the heights where I want to dwell forever. Yeah, I know it's impossible. I know I'm living at the top of an hourglass, that everything will collapse soon and I'll fall into a deep, dark hole.
A text from Killian comes through, days after our separation. Short, but enough.
Hey, Carmilla. The press has calmed down about the 'Vertex' situation; justice was on our side. Everyone can go back to normal now. I'm already in Shanghai; I'll be staying here for a while. Come to my building in China whenever you want. It's on West Nanjing Road. You've never seen anything like it—I swear it's worth the trip. Just show up at any airport you want and say the keyword.
I smile and text back: I'll try, I promise... but wait, what's the keyword? What's this all about?
He replies: Just say "VIP LIST: CARMILLA LONGFIELD" and everything will be taken care of. Hope to see you soon.
My reply is a total lie. I tell him: I can't promise anything right now, but I'll try.
And I say it was a total lie, my friend, because I had already made up my mind to leave immediately. I look at Lucius sleeping like an exhausted stallion, tired of being perfect, one last time, and head to my room.
When I wake up, I pack a small bag, take a long bath, and find everyone in the living room reading messages from Úrsula and Mr. Longfield, confirming what Killian had hinted: we didn't have to hide anymore.
I explain that I'm leaving immediately. I don't tell them where; I don't need to. Lucius takes me aside and walks me to the door, where a black limousine is waiting for me. He kisses the back of my hand and says:
"I'll have a lot of work to catch up on this week. Just let me know when you arrive safely. Say hello to my brother for me."
I smile. I don't confirm I'm going to see him, but I don't deny it either. Lucius knows I love them both, and so does Killian. The hourglass is running out. And deep down, I know there's nothing I can do... I kiss him on the mouth, breathing in deeply so every molecule of his cologne stays with me a little longer. I get into the limo; I cry when he turns around to go back inside the building.
The airport situation is so surreal... As soon as I step inside, I go straight to one of those information desks and say, "VIP LIST: CARMILLA LONGFIELD." I like carrying their last name, at least in this little secret code. The woman attending me asks me to wait in a private lounge and literally sprints down a hallway until she vanishes from sight. A minute later, a man in a suit walks in carrying a bottle of champagne, coffee, and some delicacies on a tray. He tells me:
"Your flight to China will depart in an hour. They are preparing everything. Please, don't worry about a thing."
Three women in elegant uniforms, all tall and stunning, walk in before I can even finish my coffee. They are pushing a square black machine. They take my picture right then and there, and seconds later hand me a gold passport and two black plastic cards with my name embossed in cream-colored lettering. I have no idea such a thing even exists. It's a universal pass to board any flight in the world whenever I want. I ask about payment; they tell me everything is billed to the empire. They escort me down a jet bridge and onto a massive aircraft. There are no other passengers—just me. I have an entire room inside the plane, like a first-class suite.
One of the flight attendants comes up to me after takeoff and says:
"First time on VIP LIST, Miss Longfield?"
I answer, reading the name tag pinned to her uniform:
"Yes, Micaela. In fact, I had no idea airlines offered anything like this. Call me Carmilla, and tell me a bit more about all this."
She smiles and says:
"VIP LIST... Carmilla, there are only a thousand people in the world with access to this service. What's most surprising is that almost all of them own private jets, so we hardly ever have the honor of hosting one of you. Everyone on board is pretty thrilled, too. During the flight, order whatever you like; we have an extensive menu, anything you want to eat or drink. We have a chef in the back, as well as a doctor and a masseuse if you need them. And when we land, a security vehicle will take you wherever you want to go, and our drivers won't leave your side until you dismiss them."
I notice Micaela is dying to ask me something. She is a year or two older than me, stands a head taller, and is as breathtaking as a beauty queen, with her black hair pulled back into a neat braid and pale blue eyes. I realize they probably have a thousand protocols for dealing with people like the Longfields, so I break the ice and ask:
"Is there something you want to ask me? Go ahead, I'm just a girl like you. We're both on the same plane; if this thing goes down, there won't be any difference between a flight attendant and a passenger."
She laughs and says:
"Okay, I'm really not supposed to say this, but I have to ask... What does it feel like? I mean, this is the first time I'm face-to-face with a real hero—someone who saves people from psychopaths. I just want to know... what's it like? How do you actually say, 'I'm going to do this'?"
I realize there is something deeper behind her curiosity. I reach out my hand and focus, ready to tap into my powers, but when she takes my hand... nothing. Just a few fleeting impressions I can't quite grasp... whatever Clara had transferred to me is gone. I smile. Visions or no visions, I'll never be a normal girl, but at least my mind will be clearer to live in the present... a present where Killian's arms are my home.