Misty by M. Garnet

going to the next layer and slowly the anticipation builds until you get to the last layer of tissue that you carefully pull open to expose the gift that is offered.” As he described the process he kept her eyes locked, his voice got lower and that velvet tone became softer. The tone changed. There was a rasp or hoarse tone that seemed to come from lower in his chest. “There are times when you just say fuck it and you tear it all apart, throwing all the wrapping around on the ground with the need to get to the prize and have it in your hands immediately.”
    She sucked in a deep breath. This was a little more than she wanted to be discussing with him. She was aware that he had not moved, but she felt a lot more danger from him during the last few seconds than at any other time she had been in the room. She pulled her eyes away from him, aware that she was still holding supplies at an awkward angle, so she set them back down into the suitcase and began packing away all the rest of the items she had pulled out. She tried to zip the suitcase shut, but it would only go so far. Frustrated, she stood up with the extended handle of the suitcase and tried to balance it to pull it towards her bedroom.
    She was aware of his eyes on her and she made it almost to the door before the case turned sideways, tipping articles out on the floor. She could not help herself. She stamped her foot and let loose with several loud cuss words. She took a deep breath and silently apologized to her dead mother, wherever she was, for the words. She turned to him and finally let out a deep breath. “You know you made that happen!”
    “You are blaming me for what?” He got up to approach her. “The suitcase tipping, or your temper? Or were you responding to my suggestions?”
    She choose to ignore him and squatted down on her heels to stuff the lose items into the case. She felt him move in close. It brought a type of heat to her body. Shit, this was not going to turn out good. She finished but looked over at a naked foot which had trapped a small pad to the floor. She tried to make up her mind as to what her next move should be. She knew he was pushing her, but it was a game she did not want to play, especially since she had started to find an excitement from being in contact with him that she did not want to acknowledge.
    She voted on the obvious. “You are standing on one of my pads. Or is it too bright in here for a Vampire to be able to see where he is walking?” She put her fingers on a corner of the pad away from his foot. The lights dimmed. It was getting evening outside and the glass was tinted, so as the sky dimmed, the rooms immediately became pale grey shadows. She stood up in a panic. That was a mistake, as she was immediately against a solid wall that was his chest. She started to step back and stumbled against the suitcase, but before she fell he had his hands around both upper arms and held her upright a few inches away from him.
    They stood there for a very long moment. She had to try her voice twice but finally got out a sentence. “Thanks, now let me go, and turn the lights back up.” She looked up and took in a sharp breath. She could see his eyes. They seemed to almost have a soft glow so that she could see the pale blue.
    “Did I tell you that Misty is a great name for you? Like fog on the docks late at night when you are mad, and tendrils hanging to hills early in the morning when you are just waking up.” His voice was that low raspy voice that was below the velvet.
    “Let. Me. Go.” She found that she could not raise her voice, but she was able to find her anger to hide behind and she felt that it came out with the three words.
    He held her and he tilted his head. “What are you willing to pay?”
    She pulled against the hands that held her with no result, like trying to resist steel. She stopped and just relaxed. “Okay, as usual, I will play your stupid game. What do you want? And don’t ask for blood or