by Abby James
15
There was no room to move inside Draak common room, and we slipped in unnoticed, mostly because it looked like everyone was already drunk on witches’ brew. I was surprised the teachers in Darkwells allowed any of the students to drink given they were in charge, although perhaps not in affective charge, of superpowers. Being drunk was dangerous, the reason I always stopped at one, but being drunk while able to cast a spell or shift into a carnivorous beast or start a fire was super dangerous.
Duncan had let Amy go and drifted off to talk to a few people, so Amy dropped back to us. “Don’t tell me you disapprove.”
“I’m not a prude. I’ve been to plenty of parties.”
“So why the frown?”
“Doesn’t it strike you as dangerous?”
Amy glanced around the room. “It looks more like fun.”
She was right. Draak common room looked like any of the parties I’d attended. Loud music, drinking games, lots of laughter, attempts at dancing, couples tonguing. No one would guess these people were anything but ordinary.
“Come on, we’ve got to get you some witches’ brew,” Amy said tugging my arm.
“Maybe I’ll pass.”
Amy stopped, “no way, you are not missing the opportunity. The girls don’t make it at any other time except for Draak parties. If you don’t get a taste now you’ll miss out until new years when they ramp up their production for that one night.”
“What’s so special?”
“Try and you’ll know.”
“It won’t have me naked on the table flashing my snatch at all the guys?”
Amy and Lorna laughed. “Is that what you do when you’re drunk?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember the last time I was drunk.”
“That’s almost worst than not remembering the last time you had sex.”
“I can’t remember that either.”
“Oh my god,” Amy groaned. “Get us to the witches’ brew,” she yelled as she dragged me behind her. I was fast loving the feeling of her ability skimming across my skin. I just knew I would spend the rest of my time recognizing it as comfort and companionship.
We hadn’t gone far when I spied the Marcel sisters sitting either side of a gorgeous looking guy. Pen’s hair color was back to normal, either by magic or a more mundane form of help, a bottle of hair dye. Both had made an effort tonight in burlesque outfits of bustiers and short leather skirts and fishnets. Neither had boobs to show, but the bustiers were good at taking care of what nature forgot to provide.
By the way both sisters were drooling over the guy they had caught between them I would say Emrol had been forgotten, or maybe the gorgeous guy was another fae, gifted with unearthly beauty. Amy continued to drag me through the crowd. I soon forgot about the Marcel sisters when a flaming ball appeared before me hovering in mid air. It bobbed and bounced, pulsated bigger, then smaller until it rushed forward toward us.
“Duck,” Amy yelled, dragging me down, as the ball flamed over the top of us and exploded into the wall across the room, leaving scorch marks like a five pointed star on the stone.
“Bloody ragnots,” Amy hissed as she got back to her feet.
“And they are?”
“They’re a bunch of dickhead third years from Ragnot house, a tight group who’ve hung out since they all first arrived here. Amongst the mix are fire elementals and some telekinetic wankers. They love acting like dicks.”
“Are they drunk on witches’ brew or are they normally like that?”
“A bit of both.”
“There you are.” I turned to see Emrol leaning against the door jamb, looking elegantly casual and totally edible. I couldn’t help it, but upon seeing him my thoughts drifted back to our kiss. Driven by his own juice, the fae had turned his kiss into one hell of a ride, so I could be excused for savoring the memory. And I wasn’t going to think what it would be like to move beyond a kiss.
“And there we go,” Amy said as she dragged me past him.
Emrol reached out to snag my elbow, then halted before he reached me. I should feel pleased he thought twice about touching me, but I felt more depressed than anything. I didn’t want to be a leper. And it was nice having such a hot guy flirt with me. I also forgave him for the other day now that I knew it wasn’t his fault. Sure, he started the whole thing by using his gift on me, and he’d been freaked by the outcome because he didn’t understand. He got a taste of his own magic, and it had ruffled him to lose control.
“We’re in need of witches’ brew,” Amy barked, moving people out the way.
Emrol moved along side us and then in front stopping Amy in her tracks. “Do you think that’s such a great idea, Samara’s never touched the stuff before.”
“All the more reason to give her a try.”
“In public?” He did a sexy eyebrow quirk.
“I hate to say it, but I’m with the fae on this one. I don’t do well with alcohol.”
“Get out of my way,” Amy growled to Emrol.
He sighed but stood aside. I stared up into his delightful turquoise eyes as we passed, and then, in a moment of weakness, dropped my eyes to his lips. When he smiled, I darted my attention to the back of Amy’s head. Dammit, now he’ll feel cocky. And he wasn’t staring at my lips with a wistful expression full of memory for the other day.
If I had thought the common room was full, it was nothing compared to the rest of Draak house. Elbow space narrowed. We were jostled along on our march to wherever Amy knew the drinks would be.
Someone yanked me around the middle and swept me up into a dance, which involved banging our way against the people to the side of us. I was wrapped in a cloud of heat and my arm hairs stood erect as the guy gyrated down the front of me, all the way down until his face was planted in my crotch. Next minute he was knocked backward. He would’ve gone back onto his ass if he hadn’t landed on the guy behind him. Emrol appeared in front of me. This time he seemed to have lost his fear of touching me because he took my hand and drew me away.
With his hand on me, my vision cleared. It was like placing a lens over my eyes so I could zone the room into finite detail. Even the colors became gorgeous and vivid. Blues had never looked so blue, reds so hot, yellows more than the golden sun. Seeing through Emrol’s eyes was a drug all of its own. But the music became too loud and irritating and the smells surrounding us were cloying and suffocating. Hairspray, perfume, body odor, wax, it was all too much.
This time I experienced something different. I saw colors surrounding people. All sorts of colors, some blended, like the ragnot gang, who seemed to share their colors, others were distinct, clashing with those around them.
Once he’d pulled me to safety, Emrol let me go and the supernatural vision slowly ebbed from my eyes. I wanted to ask him if that was how he saw the world always and if it was both exhilarating and exhausting, but no one knew about me and what I could do. I didn’t even know fully myself and understood less.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I didn’t like him burying his face between your legs.”
My neck heated. Very soon it would be in my cheeks. “I liked it even less.”
He leaned down so his lips were inches from my ear. “I want to be the only one that buries my face between your legs.”
Holy Jesus Christ. How was a girl to react to that? It was hotter than sin, made my insides liquify, and other parts of me burn, burn, burn, even though it wasn’t his face I wanted buried between my legs. The idea was kinda nice though.
I should put him in his place. Let him know I was not so easily twisted in knots over him, but I couldn’t speak.
And I was saved from speaking by a high pitched squeal, which rang out for a good minute as the girl made her way across the room. I didn’t bother to look over my shoulder as I knew who it was.
It took Mila awhile to reach Emrol due to the crowd, but when she did she threw herself into his arms, not even seeing me. She did seem to have an uncanny knack for sniff
ing him out though. As a witch maybe she planted some magic locating device on him.
Emrol inhaled but allowed himself to be swept up into her embrace.
“There you are,” she pouted, raising up on her high heels and puckering up for a kiss. And he obliged, lowering down and giving her a decent kiss on the lips. Not a peck. There was some tongue involved, but it lasted seconds before he straightened again.
She purred and patted his chest, then looked over her shoulder and her eyes narrowed on me. “I should’ve known.” She waved her hand in my direction. “Run along, you’re not wanted here.”
It seemed Emrol wasn’t going to say anything in my defense so I left. On passing , I said, “Pen did a good job with her hair.”
Mila gasped, her heavily shaded eyes growing wide. Only something like that, perhaps read as a threat, could make her forget about being in Emrol’s arms. She let him go and faced me, stepping in close. “I don’t know what you did, but we’re not going to let this slide.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I see through you. I know your kind.” She was shorter than me by an inch or two but her shoes put her half a head taller, which added the menace she was looking for. “I’m watching you.”
“Mila,” Emrol pulled her away, but kept his eyes on me as he drew her in. It took his hand on her cheek, turning her face to him, before she forgot about me.
Looking into his eyes, she melted against him falling into a beguiled lull. Perhaps, for the only time, I was happy to see fae magic at work. Emrol kept looking at me as I walked away, staring over Mila’s head as she snuggled into his chest. And I knew he kept watching me because I kept glancing over my shoulder.
“And here we are,” Amy shouted, holding up a drink that was, honest to god, smoking at the top.
I shook my head. “You’re mad if you think I’m drinking that.”
“I’ve already finished one glass.”
Beside her Lorna was swaying to the music with a stupid grin on her face.
“And Lorna has too by the looks of things.”
Lorna giggled. “I’ve had two.” Then she giggled again. “But no more,” she said, placing her fingers over her lips as she hiccuped the last word.
Lethal stuff by the looks of it. I wasn’t caught up with Emrol long and already Lorna was well on her way to sticking her tongue down any guy’s throat, or dancing on a piece of furniture in her underwear. I’d seen that happen plenty of times before at parties. “Come on, honey. Lighten up tonight.” She swept Lorna up into a hug. “We’re here to protect you.”
I doubted Lorna could protect anyone right now and she was likely to get worse. I felt like the one that needed to protect them, since it was always what I did with Laya.
Amy pushed the glass toward me. “Just a taste,” she begged, “for me.”
She was being cute, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was the kill joy. “Okay. A sip.”
I stared at the smoking liquid. This was not a good idea. But everyone else was knocking it back like it was water and no one had yet turned into a frog or something worse. I took a sip, my eyes widening when the warm liquid touched my lips smoothed along my tongue and hit the back of my throat. I sighed and along with the sigh went a moan.
“Oh wow, that is good.”
The taste was sensational. I could describe it as drinking liquid bliss. I took another sip and closed my eyes as I was spun onto a plane of amazing sensations. The whole of my body felt suddenly loose and limbless, no longer grounded, but floating, endless and free.
“This is unreal.” I took another sip and the liquid went down like nectar, but better, unbelievably better. How could something taste this good. “What is it?” I asked, but my voice sounded far away.
“Whatever you want it to be.” Amy’s voice came to me like it swam in water. “Everyone will experience the witches’ brew differently. It’s your own private ecstasy.”
That sounded dangerous, but so what?
Before I knew it I lifted the glass to my lips and found nothing came out. I soon forgot the empty glass in favor of staring around the room. The supes in the room were all my friends, I didn’t know any of them, but they looked like wonderful people, people I wanted to talk to, share everything I held deep inside, my secrets, feelings, fears, emotions I didn’t even want to own. I would share them because in this place we were all alike, all wondering who or what we were, all trying to fit in and find ourselves, all searching for that elusive core that would finally bridge the gap between what we knew and what we didn’t. How could I be alone when I was surrounded by generous people?
But it wasn’t only my mind that was open and yearning for connection, my body had succumbed. Urges pulsed through me, a wave of desires, rolling through my body, peeling open the doors of my control, my inhibitions, driving cravings I’d not felt in a long time because it was easier to deny than to accept, easier to lie than acknowledge the truth, easier to hide than be seen, easier to be alone than face rejection. I didn’t want that. Not anymore. Not when I was surrounded by all these lovely people.
The music played a perfect harmony, everyone swayed to the rhythm like they were born with it playing through their head. I moved around the room like I floated on air and all I felt was an opening of my heart like I could love everyone.
Someone slipped a hand around my waist. A warm hand and I closed my arms and savored the feel of that one touch. We could’ve been anywhere, lost at sea, standing in a desert, and I would feel safe and content because that one hand was around my waist.
The firm pressure of the hand steered me across the room. I followed the gentle guidance of the touch, willing to give myself over to its authority, confident because it knew best. Surrounded by all these lovely people, what could go wrong?
We wove around all the groups, and I wanted to join in on their conversations. We passed a couple kissing, and I wanted to join in on that as well, but my guide wouldn’t stop, just kept leading and leading until I felt a cool wind on my face.
“There’s wind,” I said stupidly. Did that mean Amy was close?
“There won’t be for long.”
A man’s voice. My guide was a man, and he sounded nice. A deep sultry voice, which funneled through my pores and into my very soul. His hand stayed on my waist as I turned to face him, but we were in the shadows, outside on a balcony, away from the indoor light, and all I saw was darkness.
It was the perfect excuse to explore. My hands were tentative at first, searching through the darkness until I felt his face, the smoothness of his skin, more exploring until I felt the softness of his lips. I ran my finger along the bottom, traced it up to the top, learning the plushness of his mouth.
I moved closer, my nerves sparking alive when I felt his body pressed against the front of mine.
“What are you doing?” His deep voice sliced through the night.
“I want to kiss you.”
“No.” The reply sudden and sharp.
“But I will. And you won’t deny me.” I moved my face close to his, close enough I was inhaling his breath. “Because I can feel it.”
His hands wrapped around my wrists, seizing them in place, halting their exploration of his lips. “Feel what?”
His breath was all over me. It tasted of wine, and cinnamon and the dark velvet of a rich chocolate.
“Feel you. Feel your desire.”
He pushed me away, not so I was completely gone because he kept hold of my wrists, but enough so our bodies did not touch.
“You don’t know what you’re asking?”
“No, you don’t know what you’re stopping.” I walked into him and he let me. “I can hear your heart beat, it’s faster than mine.” This time I got so close the tickle of his lips against mine did crazy things inside my head. “I can hear the rush of your blood—”
He jerked me away, this time setting me free. The cold invaded me now he was no longer close.
“It is you, not me, you
hear.”
I shook my head, but it would be lost in the dark. “No. I know my own heartbeat. All I ask is one kiss. Let me know what it is like to feel your lips on mine.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I will not stop at one kiss.”
Now he was talking my language.
“What else do you desire?”
“Stop it.”
I moved closer to him again. Even though I could not see him, I knew where he was. I could smell him and the smell was my drug. “I want to touch you. I want you to touch me.”
I was with him again, feeling his body up close to mine. My hands found his shirt, found a way under his shirt. “Oh yeah.” The moan was mine. My hands were greedy, feeling every part of him, smooth hard ridges, delicious, succulent muscle.
There was a groan, and this time it wasn’t me.
“You want this.” I found his neck. Sweet Jesus, I found his neck. I ran my tongue right up over his Adam’s apple. Under my tongue was the flowing pulse of his blood.
“Give me one kiss,” I panted.
His hand laced around my wrist and I was spun so my back was to him. I was about to protest, but I felt his body press into mine. His other hand wrapped around my waist and pulled me in close.
“You don’t know what you are doing,” he whispered into my ear.
I tilted my head to the side when I felt his lips run down my throat.
“You have no idea the danger you’re in.”
“I want it,” I sighed. “I want everything you can give me.”
“You’re high, Samara. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I know what I’m feeling.”
“The witches’ brew has made you vulnerable. Your guard is down. The one thing that will protect you.”
“I want it down. I’m sick of holding back. I’m sick of my fear.”
“It makes you cautious, smart.”
I rubbed my body along his and was rewarded with a huff, and a deep out breath.
“I don’t want to be cautious with you.”
“I’m the one you should fear.”
“Well that’s a problem because you’re the one I desire.”