Fang and Claw: Nocturne Academy, Book 2

by Anderson, Evangeline

  “I…I didn’t know we were going to be meeting your parents right away,” I faltered, looking down at myself. Under Ari’s shirt and blazer, I was still wearing my school uniform which was wrinkled and rumpled after hours of riding curled up on his Drake’s back.

  Ari sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s non-negotiable. My Sire’s wings fly higher than mine and he has the right to command me.”

  I bit my lip. “Then…what’s to stop him from commanding you to get rid of me and never see me again?”

  His eyes glowed pure gold for a moment.

  “You are my L’lorna,” he said and I heard a hint of his Drake’s growl in his tone. “They cannot take you from me—I will refuse such an order, even from my Sire. He will have to accept you or lose me—there is no other way.”

  His statement shook me to my core.

  “You’d give up your whole life for me?” I asked, hardly believing it.

  “Kaitlyn…” He sat up and took my hand in his. Looking into my eyes, he murmured, “If not for you, then for no one. You are my life now.”

  “Ari…” I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say. If you were going to break the Edict, like we’re doing, you could have had anyone in the school—anyone at all. Why me?”

  “My Drake chose you,” he said simply. “And my heart followed his. That’s the way it is with my kind, Kaitlyn. When we find our fated-mate we just know.”

  He lay back down on the leaves and beckoned to me. “Come, aren’t you thirsty?”

  My stomach twisted again and my whole system seemed to cry out for his blood. I knew I couldn’t wait any longer.

  I scooted back to where he was, the giant leaves rustling beneath me, and lay down beside him as Ari indicated I should. I pressed my face into the hollow of his throat, breathing him in and I felt rather than heard his deep groan vibrating through me as my tongue traced the pulsing vein just below the warm surface of his skin. My front teeth got that itchy, achy sensation as my fangs grew and elongated and I knew I had to bite.

  When at last I pierced his flesh, Ari groaned again and held me to him.

  “Dios, Kaitlyn,” he murmured raggedly. “Your little fangs in me feel so damn good!”

  I drew his warm blood into my mouth, enveloped in the intense cloud of emotions that flowed between us whenever I drank from him. It occurred to me that this was kind of how I felt when I touched his Drake. Though the sensations were a little different, they were just as intense.

  “My Drake wanted you to drink from him,” Ari told me, as though catching my thought. “But he said the time for that wasn’t here yet.”

  I drew back at last and frowned at him.

  “What? What does that mean?”

  He shrugged, his broad, bare shoulders rolling with the movement.

  “I don’t know. He’s very cryptic lately—especially when it comes to you.” He frowned. “He seems to know things that I don’t.”

  “But how?” I asked. “I mean, isn’t that impossible? You’re two halves of the same being, right?”

  He nodded. “Yes, but think of it this way—you might know some things with your subconscious mind that your conscious mind is unable to access.” He shrugged again. “That’s the best explanation I can come up with to explain me and my Drake.”

  “All right, well…” I looked down as my fangs retracted. “Um, thanks for breakfast,” I told him.

  His eyes grew heavy-lidded. “It is always a pleasure to nourish you, L’lorna.”

  “Thank you.” I could feel my cheeks getting hot with a blush at the way he was studying at me. There was clear desire in his amber eyes when he looked at me, especially after I had finished feeding from him.

  It occurred to me that maybe that was why I felt more comfortable with his Drake than with Ari himself. There were no sexual overtones between me and the huge beast, the way there were between me and Ari. I mean, not like we would act on those feelings, but they were definitely there. Drinking from him made me feel all tingly in places I usually tried not to notice and I was reasonably sure he was “tingling” as well.

  The Drake’s love didn’t have any of that sex stuff mixed up in it at all. It was pure protectiveness and affection with nothing to muddy the waters or make me feel uncomfortable. I liked that about him—especially since I had long since decided that any kind of sex would be off the table for me, even when I felt ready to have it. After all, who would want to have sex with me, looking the way I did?

  Well, Ari would apparently—at least if the emotions that flowed between us when I drank from him were any indication. But that was hard to think about and really embarrassing. Just the idea made my cheeks feel hot.

  “You’re uncomfortable,” Ari said, frowning as he sat up. “Why?”

  “I’m just…not looking forward to meeting your parents looking like this,” I lied, nodding down at my rumbled uniform. “Is there anyplace I can wash up and try to make myself look more presentable?”

  “Sure.” Ari nodded. “There’s a little stream around the back side of this century tree.” He nodded at the massive tree we were under. “My Drake had a drink from it before we changed forms so I could hold you while you slept.”

  The idea of him holding me all night—studying the scarred side of my face while he did—made me feel itchy between my shoulder blades for some reason.

  “Uh, thanks,” I said uncertainly. Getting up, I shed his blazer and shirt and held them out to him. “You’ll probably want to put these on so your parents don’t get the wrong idea,” I said, feeling my cheeks get hot again.

  “Actually, we’ll be entering my Sire’s palace with me in Drake form,” Ari told me. He looked me in the eyes. “And the only idea they will get about you is that I love you, Kaitlyn.”

  His bold statement sent a shiver down my spine. The words seemed to echo in that quiet place—to reverberate with the power of a promise not lightly made—a vow which must be kept.

  “Oh,” I whispered.

  I saw Ari looking at me expectantly and I wanted to say it back—wanted to feel it with my whole heart. But there was still something standing in the way, though I didn’t know what it was. Why could I love his Drake so immediately and unashamedly and yet I still felt just a bit uncertain of my feelings for Ari himself?

  Maybe because I was still so unsure of myself.

  “Um, thank you,” I said at last, feeling how very inadequate the words were. “I…I guess I ought to, uh, go freshen up.”

  “Go on.” His eyes were sad again as he motioned to me to go. “I’ll wait here for you.”

  “Thanks.” And I fled, feeling like a coward and wondering what was wrong with me. I did care for Ari, very deeply and I was grateful for everything he had done for me. But there was still something keeping me from letting the love I felt for him in my heart flow outward and I didn’t know what it was.

  68

  Ari

  I watched her go, wondering what was holding her back. At last I had declared my love and though I felt answering emotions inside her, Kaitlyn hadn’t given the declaration back to me.

  When I first felt her reluctance—that barrier between us—I had assumed it was due to my Drake. She feared him, I had told myself. Feared his flame. And how could she love that which she feared?

  But she didn’t fear him any longer. In fact, if I had to bet, I would have bet strongly that she preferred him to me. A fact which again, absurdly, made me feel jealous of myself—jealous of my own Drake.

  “Don’t worry,” I heard my other half rumble. “She just isn’t ready yet. But she will be—she will be.”

  I wondered if he could possibly be right. Then again, he had predicted that Kaitlyn would take to him immediately and he had certainly been correct about that. Dios, I wished I could understand what he wasn’t saying—that I could sense what he could about her so effortlessly.

  But I couldn’t and so in the meantime, I had no choice but to be patient.

  69

  Kaitl
yn

  I walked around the vast bole of the tree, which seemed to go on forever. It was like one of those giant redwoods out in California, only it was a deciduous tree instead of a conifer. The massive leaves blanketing the ground all around it certainly proved that.

  I heard the stream before I saw it—though it was much bigger than a stream. More like a river, I thought, as I stood on its banks and watched the broad ribbon of water rushing over golden stones in its shallow bed. Of course, to someone the Drake’s size, it probably seemed like a little stream.

  Big or little, it was a place to wash up and try to straighten out my hair, so I was grateful for it. I knelt in the tall grass—the stems were bigger and thicker than anything I had ever seen back home—and splashed the chilly water on my face and hands.

  I considered taking a bath, but I didn’t have anything to dry off with. And besides, the idea of baring my scarred body with Ari so near made me nervous. Not that I thought he would peek at me—he seemed much too honorable for that. But still, I didn’t like the idea of being naked when I had so much to hide.

  Of course, I had let my Coven-mates see me wearing only a towel, but that was different. I wasn’t attracted to any of them the way I had to admit I was attracted to Ari. I thought again of how he looked with his shirt off—his caramel-colored skin so smooth and warm and all his muscles on display…

  As my thoughts wandered, my eye happened to catch on something going on a little further down the riverbank.

  A blur of color caught my attention first—a golden gleam that I thought must be the sunlight reflecting off the water. But as I watched, I realized this was no stray sunbeam—it was an animal or an insect of some kind. The gleaming I had seen was coming from its rapidly beating wings, which were jewel-toned, much like the Drake’s were.

  It was hard to make out the rest of the little creature—it flitted around above the surface of the water as though it was looking for something. After a moment, it flew over to the riverbank and I saw what it was hunting for.

  Sitting on one of the big, thick blades of grass, was an insect about twice as big as my thumb that looked like a cross between a cricket and a bumble bee. It had the long, bent legs of a cricket and the fat, furry body of a bumble bee and it, too, was jewel-toned—which was what allowed me to see it, since it was the same green as the grass. But the sun shone off its carapace, making it seem to twinkle like a dew drop on the grass blade.

  The creature with the gorgeous golden wings came flying suddenly up to the insect and I understood that it must be hunting. I expected to see it snap the shiny bumble-cricket off the blade of grass or maybe shoot out a long, sticky tongue like a frog and grab it that way.

  Instead, to my surprise, the shimmering little predator opened its delicately pointed snout and shot out a tongue of flame, about two inches long.

  Before the insect could move, it was fried to a crisp. The shining predator snapped it up and crunched it contentedly. I even thought I heard it humming to itself as it chewed.

  Well, breakfast is served, I guess, I thought, watching silently as it ate its meal of deep-fried bumble-cricket. I shuddered at the sight, but who was I to judge? I’d just had blood for my own breakfast.

  While the little predator was hovering in midair, chomping down its meal, I finally got a good look at it. It had a curved, S-shaped body and a fat little belly, rather like a seahorse but with tiny legs which were curled up under it. It seemed to have tiny arms too, but again they were curled in tight to its body as it flew. Apparently it didn’t use them for hunting. Its snout was long and delicate and its eyes, when it turned and saw me watching it, were large and dark, and intelligent.

  Seeing me so close seemed to startle the flying seahorse thing because it took one look at me and darted away at once in the other direction.

  I was sorry to see it go—it was a beautiful little thing—like a living jewel. I wondered if its wings were more like a butterfly’s or a Drake’s—it was impossible to see when they were beating so quickly.

  But the little creature wasn’t looking where it was going. Startled by my presence, it was still keeping a wary eye on me as it zoomed ahead—right into danger.

  There was a stand of trees—normal sized ones—straight ahead of it and they seemed to have a kind of glistening net strung between them. A net? No, I realized—it was a web. A web that was almost three feet across and five feet tall.

  “Watch out!” I called to the little creature but of course it didn’t understand me. It blundered right into the sticky strands and was immediately caught, its jewel-toned wings entangled in the silvery web.

  “Oh, no!” I exclaimed. “Hang on, little buddy—I’ll get you out.”

  I approached the web slowly, trying not to frighten the little flying seahorse any more than it was already frightened. I felt responsible for it getting caught in the first place. After all, if I hadn’t startled it, it wouldn’t have run from me and gotten trapped in the web.

  As I got closer, the little seahorse struggled harder and began to make a bell-like chiming sound from its tiny mouth. It shot out tiny tongues of fire as though trying to burn the web, but the sticky strands must have been tougher than they looked, or else maybe they had a natural flame-retardant quality, because they didn’t burn very well at all.

  “It’s okay,” I tried to reassure the little creature. “It’s okay—I’ll help you get out of there.”

  I was almost to the trees the web was strung between when I noticed that one of their trunks had a big, dark lump on it. It looked like part of the trunk—except their trunks were white, like birch trees. This lump was black. I frowned. Could it be some kind of disease process? Like Dutch Elm Disease or something?

  Then the lump moved.

  It rose up from the white trunk of the tree and scuttled down onto the web. I felt my gorge rise as I saw exactly what it was…

  A spider as big as my head.

  70

  Kaitlyn

  When the spider stepped onto the web, its long, furry legs testing the sticky strands, the little flying seahorse began to struggle more frantically than ever. It made that clear, chiming sound again, like someone ringing a doorbell over and over. I wondered if it was a cry of alarm or a cry for help.

  If it was crying for help, there was none to be had. I didn’t see any more of the jewel-toned flying seahorses anywhere. It looked like I was the only one who could help the little guy out of his very sticky situation.

  If I could get past the enormous spider, that was.

  I’ve never liked bugs in the best of times. We have some pretty big ones in Florida—roaches as big as your thumb called Palmetto bugs are the worst—they can fly right in your face. Ugh! But I had never even imagined a spider the size of this one—its body was at least as big as my head and its legs spread out in a three-foot radius all around it.

  It was so absurdly huge it looked like one of those Halloween decorations you buy to scare trick-or-treaters. The kind that pop out on a mechanical arm when some hapless kid just looking for candy steps on the pressure plate hidden under the doormat. Just the idea of getting anywhere near that huge, hairy, scuttling thing made my skin crawl.

  But as frightened as I was of the awful giant spider, I was equally determined not to let the little seahorse die. What could I do to save it, though, I wondered as the spider skittered towards it?

  The answer came in the form of a stone in the tall grass in front of me. I nearly tripped over it and when I looked down, I saw at once what I had to do.

  Grabbing the large, rough rock in one hand, I threw it as hard as I could towards the fat, hairy body of the spider, just as it was extending its long front legs to grab the tangled seahorse.

  My Dad used to play ball with me before The Fire—I guess because he didn’t have a son to play catch with. He swore I had a good arm and a “mean fast-ball” as he put it. I hadn’t pitched anything in over two years, but thank goodness the skill hadn’t completely deserted me.


  I hit the spider squarely in the center of its furry back and sent it sprawling, back into the undergrowth around the trees. It made a sort of hissing-snarl as it went—the angry cry of a predator that has been cheated of its kill.

  Sensing I didn’t have much time, I ran forward and tore at the sticky threads of the web that the flying seahorse was entangled in. It made that chiming alarm call again and I tried to reassure it as I worked.

  “It’s okay, little guy, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to get you out of here,” I said, as I worked on the web—which was much tougher than any spider’s web I’d ever seen. It was like trying to break pieces of sticky dental floss, I thought—nearly impossible.

  Finally, I managed to tear the web around where it was caught. The sticky strands were still all over its wings but I was afraid to try and get those off for fear of tearing the delicate, gossamer structures.

  “Almost free,” I told the flying seahorse, who had at last stopped chiming in that leaning-on-the-doorbell way. “Almost out of there, little buddy.”

  But the seahorse chimed again and I saw its dark, intelligent eyes roll upward.

  Looking where its gaze was directed, I saw a large, black shape in the crook of two branches just above my head.

  It was the spider—getting ready to pounce.

  It hissed menacingly, baring fangs as long as my finger. Holy crap! My stomach did a slow forward roll—I did not want that thing on me!

  Guess I didn’t hit him hard enough, I thought numbly. At that moment, the last strand of web tore free. I cupped the little flying seahorse in my arms, turned, and ran as fast as I could, just as the spider pounced.

  I felt its hairy legs scrabbling at my back but I shrieked and reached behind me with my free hand—the one not holding the seahorse—to beat at it. It fell off but a quick glance back showed that it was scuttling right at my heels, its mandible-like fangs snapping angrily. Clearly it thought I was stealing its prey and it wasn’t about to let me get away with it.