by L. A. Sable
“I only want a sip.” His lips just barely brushed the skin of my neck as he spoke. “Now get ready, because I’m coming in.”
I opened my mouth to protest but the only noise that escaped was a screech of pain as he struck. Agony was immediate and bone deep as the piercing pressure turned sharper until I could barely take it. For a wild moment, the pain was so bad that I thought I might die from it.
And then it morphed into something entirely different.
The pain was still there but shivery sparkles of sensation started at the place where his fangs pierced my skin, but then traveled lower to coil in my belly and set my insides to quivering. This was nothing like what I’d experienced when Ceres had bitten me. Pleasure pulsed through me in tiny waves with each pull of his mouth as he sucked at my throat, finally overwhelming the pain.
Cynth seemed to sense the change as well. His arms tightened around me as he pulled me closer to him. My hand pulled at the restraints, not to fight him but because I had to do something with all of this desperate energy. I wanted to push him away and pull him closer, both at the same time. And I had no idea which impulse would win out.
He continued to feed from me as one hand rose to my joined wrists and pulled at the restraints, freeing me. My hands slowly lowered, but I didn’t attempt to fight him off as the pleasure built. One of my hands shifted to the back of his head, shoving my fingers through hair that felt like strands of silk.
My body ached for more as he pulled me closer against him with one hand around my waist. The bulge of his erection nestled at the small of my back, making it clear that he was enjoying this as much as I was. Our bodies moved together in the darkness, swaying in an ancient rhythm as he continued to pull the life’s blood for my body. There was no conception in me of the fact that this could go on long enough to kill me. I didn’t feel the threat in the same way that I had with Ceres.
Pleasure built higher as I fought for a release that seemed impossible only from this. But the tingling clench in my belly built higher and higher. Even with my eyes closed, sparks and flashes moved across my vision. I moaned out his name as I slumped back against him, and his arms wrapped around me were all that kept me from collapsing to the floor. A moment later, I fell over the edge completely as the orgasm hit and broke me into a billion pieces.
I came to myself lying on the floor with Cynth half-lying underneath me. Both of us seemed caught in a momentary haze while we tried to reorient ourselves to the real world. My fingers touched the twin circles of the wound on my neck with gentle fingers, but it didn’t hurt at all. Even as angry as he’d been at the start, Cynth had bitten me on the opposite side of my neck from where West had placed his mark. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had spared me additional pain on purpose.
When Cynth caught me looking at him, he immediately pulled away from me, scooting back on the floor so that there was a small amount of space between us.
“It shouldn’t scar,” he said as he got to his feet. The look on his face was expressionless, but his lips had thinned into an unhappy line. “Unlike whatever that beast did to you.”
“That’s good.” I continued to watch him from my position on the floor, realizing that something had fundamentally changed between us. “I didn’t know that a vampire’s bite could be anything but painful.”
“Bringing pleasure during feeding is a talent of mine.” His lips quirked ever so slightly before his expression returned to a neutral cast. “You can imagine how handy that comes in a fight.”
“Definitely.”
Things had never been awkward like this between us. There had been anger and hatred and disgust, but never this unease as if we had no idea what to say or do around each other anymore.
Cynth just stared at me as if he’d never seen anything quite like me before. “You should go back to House Essence before it gets too late. House Night belongs to the vampires and we hunt at night.”
I pushed to my feet on unsteady legs. “That wasn’t exactly a training session. Darius isn’t going to be happy.”
“What Darius doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Cynth fixed his tie and straightened the cuffs of his shirt as he regarded me for a long moment. “And if you’re smart, you’ll stay the hell away from me.”
He was gone before I could think of a response.
Chapter Sixteen
Jinx
Primrose waited for me on the stairs to House Essence as more proof that the universe got a kick out of my suffering.
“You smell like sex and blood,” she said, mouth forming a moue of distaste as she stared down at me.
I considered shoving past her, particularly given the fact that she was curiously without her entourage, but decided against it. “Oh Primrose, seeing you really is the highlight of a wonderful day.”
She tilted her head to the side, no trace of amusement on her face. “Sarcasm only serves to amuse simple minds.”
I nodded emphatically, as if in agreement. “And I will certainly file that away in the appropriate place. Thanks.”
“I think I may have left something in your room after we performed the summoning.” Primrose’s mouth stayed tight as she spoke, the effort that it took to be civil clear on her features. “You need to restrain your creature so I can look for it.”
We both knew good and well what she was talking about, Primrose wanted her grimoire back. That was understandable considering the powerful secrets that must be contained inside. If I’d ever had any luck with casting spells, I’d desperately want it for myself. As it stood, the thing was practically useless to me until my spellcraft improved, but that certainly didn’t mean I wanted her to have it. The last thing she needed to have in her arsenal was another magical tome.
“I’m so sorry about that,” I said, tone making it clear that I was anything but sorry. “Zuzu, I mean the imp, really isn’t under my control. It doesn’t seem to want to hurt me for whatever reason, but I don’t know what it would if someone else tried to come in. I think you’re out of luck.”
Primrose had a look on her face like she’d swallowed something that tasted bad. “I’m sure you’ll do whatever you can. If you happen to find something in your room that doesn’t belong to you, I’d like to have it back.”
I raised my eyebrows in mock interest. “What was it you were looking for again?”
Wheels obviously turned in Primrose’s head as she stared down at me, clearly trying to decide how much to reveal. She had to be fairly certain that I had found the grimoire and secreted it away, but on the off chance that it had slid into a dusty corner of my room and was just waiting to be discovered urged her to remain silent. If I hadn’t already discovered the book, she wouldn’t want to alert me that something of so much value had been left behind.
“Never mind. I don’t have time for this.” Still looking like she’d very much like to stomp me like a bug if she could, Primrose held out a package carefully wrapped in black paper and tied with a bow. “I’m supposed to give this to you. I would have left it in your room, but I don’t appreciate being mauled to death by demon creatures.”
Even though I hadn’t quite figured out what to do with Zuzu, having him around was already coming in handy if it kept the other witches away from my space. Of course, that didn’t mean the day wasn’t coming when the thing tried to take some pieces off me in my sleep. “I’d apologize but to be fair, you are the one who summoned him.”
“Only because I’d hoped that it would eat your face.” Primrose had the nerve to roll her eyes as she shoved the package hard into my belly and shoved past me. “It’s a pity that hasn’t happened, but maybe the thing will come to its senses. Sleep tight.”
I hefted the box in my hands. “Who is this from?”
“I have no idea and I’m certain that I don’t care.” Primrose replied, shoving me with her shoulder as she passed me on the stairs. “It was brought by a messenger.”
I turned and watched her descend the stairs, my fingers itching to grab the long fall of
her hair and yank her backwards. There was no doubt in my mind that I could handle myself against her in a physical fight. But even if I managed to get in a few good blows, Primrose would quickly use magic to defend herself and probably scream for her bitch posse to come running for good measure. I’d get my ass hexed from here to next week.
The package was large enough that I needed both hands to carry it, but something smaller rustled inside when I gave it an experimental shake. I didn’t notice anything ominous about it until I returned to my room and set in on the desk to take a better look. The black wrapping paper had a strange sort of sheen that shifted as I held it up to the light. And the ribbon it was tied with had been stiffened with wire that was razor sharp, a fact I only noticed as I tried to undo it.
Which might be evidence that I shouldn’t be opening it at all. It wasn’t as if I put it past Primrose to plant the magical equivalent of a bomb inside. Zuzu approached as I sat on the bed with the package on my lap, sniffing at it with his piggish nose before turning in circles and collapsing at my side.
I patted his head, scales rough underneath my fingers. “Well, you don’t seem worried.”
The imp let out a sort of harrumph and closed its eyes as it rested its chin on my leg, making a guttural sound in its throat that sounded like a purr.
If there were something dangerous in the box, then the imp probably wouldn’t be so relaxed around it, I told myself. Although, it probably wasn’t the best idea to expect one of the dumbest creatures in the underworld to potentially sound an alarm.
The mirror across from the bed reflected a sad sight as I met the gaze of my own image. Rumpled and blood-stained clothing probably couldn’t be salvaged even with a good cleaning. My eyes were dull and lifeless like a porcelain doll who shifted her gaze as you turned her from side to side in a mockery of true life. Dark circles bruised the skin under my eyes and my lips were pinched thin. I pulled down the stained collar of my dress to reveal the devastated skin of my neck, one side bruised yellow from the vampire’s bite and the other side still oozing blood around the perfect imprint of a werewolf’s jaws.
I looked like absolute shit.
The stress of all this was getting to me. I had never been meant for a place at the Proving Grounds and everything that had happened since I arrived only served to prove that point. I could pretend that there would eventually be a way out of this, but Valentine was mere days from arriving. If he didn’t kill me, it would be because something else got to me first.
And the confusing way I’d been treated by the acolytes only made it that much worse. It was impossible to fight my body’s responses to them, even as I knew that they had to be manipulating me. I couldn’t face the stuff of my nightmares with them at my back. I just wanted all of it to finally come to an end.
A wave of cold fear and dread threatened to overtake me. If Valentine would grant me anything, it would be a death wish. I had to be stronger than this if I had any hope of surviving.
The gift-wrapped box sitting on my lap felt like a weight and I wanted nothing more than to throw it across the room or out the nearest window. But hiding wouldn’t do me any good, I had to face whatever was coming head on.
I carefully undid the ribbon with its sharpened edges and laid it aside. The paper came away easily underneath my hands, falling to the floor in a single piece of reflective black. A wooden box sat in my hands, rough and hand-carved, remarkable only for its complete lack of ornamentation.
Opening it felt like a bad idea, even as I had no good reason to accept foul play. But I forced down those dark thoughts, as my fingers touched the lid and I pulled it up to reveal what lay inside.
Dead rose petals filled the interior, curling and discolored so it was impossible to tell what color they had been in life. Red, probably. I had to sift through them to find what was hidden underneath, momentarily wondering if someone had simply sent me a box full of rose petals. My fingers finally hit something solid near the bottom and pulled out a small drawstring bag made of black velvet that I’d momentarily mistaken for lining. I stroked one finger over the bag, feeling the bristles shift over my skin as a sudden shiver worked its way down my spine.
The voice of reason in my head urged me not to go any further, but that voice was small. I had already started this, there was no going back now.
When I upended the bag, a heavy silver chain slipped out to coil in my palm. On it was a large pendant with a dark stone at its center surrounded by glittering diamonds. My reflection stared back at me on the surface of the polished stone that seemed to shift strangely in the light.
I recognized it.
Paranoia rose up in me, thick enough to choke on it as I stared down at the pendant. I reached into the box again and found the note tucked into the very bottom of the box. When I opened the folded note, familiarly slanted script filled my vision.
A gift, returned.
It wasn’t signed, but it didn’t really need to be. Only one person could have had this necklace in their position and then feel moved to send it to me now. Valentine. He knew that I had come to the Proving Grounds, and this gift was a warning of what was to come. Not that I’d been stupid enough to think I’d actually managed to keep the element of surprise.
I turned the thing over in my hands as nausea churned in my stomach. Objectively, it was beautiful. Thick strands of silver wove together to form the chain, and the stone suspended at the center of the pendant was a rare alexandrite, purple now but the color of the stone would change depending on the light.
In my hands, the necklace felt light. But once it wrapped around my neck, I knew that it would hang as heavy as an iron shackle. Valentine had first placed it on me in what felt like another lifetime, because it was a memory that I had tried for so long to forget.
The precious stone glowed at the center of the pendant as I continued to stare down at it. My wide eyes stared back at me in the dim reflection as light shifted and moved along its surface in a way that was more than unnatural. I wanted to look away, but in the very next moment, I was lost.
Time ran together when I tried to remember. The days came and went like ocean waves, crashing one after another in a way that was impossible to number. I felt disconnected from the rest of the world around me, and particularly from myself.
Valentine had to know that I was wavering. The righteous anger and triumph that had brought me to him faded as the reality set in of what I had done and what I had become. The moments that we remained together were heady and intoxicating. But when he was gone, I saw more clearly what I had become.
He had brought me to an abandoned castle on the Scottish moors. Something unfortunate had become of the previous occupants, even if I never knew the precise details. But screams seemed to echo off the walls when it grew silent and I could have sworn that I heard phantom cries in the night, as barely visible shapes moved in the darkness. But this place had been emptied of life long before I arrived.
But I wouldn’t ever know what became of them.
One night, I stood in a room with no windows. Candles burned in sconces on the walls as flames crackled in the fireplace, but the heat of it brought me no warmth. Cold had permeated my skin down to the very bone and had since the moment that I first crossed the threshold of this place.
A man lay at my feet.
He was surrounded by a spreading pool of blood, but carried no visible wounds. Dark red stained his mouth as if he’d been messily eating blackberries and forgot to clean his face. Trails of blood ran from his nose and ears to add to the growing stain beneath his still form.
“Is he dead?” The sound of my own voice was startling, as it broke the silence. The sound was too deep and slow compared to what normally emerged from my throat. It was as if I heard myself from a great distance away. And like the light of far-flung stars, my own words took eons to reach my ears.
“Yes.”
Valentine stood behind me like a dark shadow. I couldn’t be sure if I was aware of his presence until that mo
ment. His hands pressed down on my shoulders, not hard enough to collapse me but enough that I had to keep my knees locked to remain standing. That would always be the way of things with him, he used too much pressure when only a little would do and pushed harder even when I yearned for him to stop.
The man’s face was partially obscured, and I struggled to recall if I had even seen him before now. “I don’t understand.”
But instead of hurting, those hands shifted down to caress my arms and then slid down to touch my wrists. “Did he offend you so much, then?”
“I—” I faltered. Who was this man? I didn’t know his name or recognize his face. And he would never be able to confirm his identity for me, not lying on the floor dead in a pool of his own blood. I wanted to bend down and turn him over, reveal more of his face, but I knew better than to pull away from Valentine’s grasp without permission. Panic welled in me, even as my body remained motionless as his grip tightened around the fragile bones of my wrists. The emotion was immediately muffled, then quieted, as if it had been suffocated out of existence before I had a chance to actually experience it. “What did I do?”
Valentine shifted his hold to squeeze both my hands, his skin against mine so overheated that it drew a gasp from my throat. His voice washed over me, enveloping me in the soothing murmur like I was sinking into a bath that was a touch too hot for comfort. “What you wanted to do.”
I shook my head, and the earth tilted on its axis. My eyes slid closed as the world kept spinning without me. An image burned behind my lids: the man, a stranger, collapsed to the ground as his life’s blood was willed to the surface.
Had I done this or had Valentine, it was impossible to recall with any clarity.
“We have no right—”
My body turned in a dancer’s spin at the guidance of his touch, or as if I were a marionette that jumped into action as its strings were pulled. When I opened my eyes, Valentine was so close that our lips practically touched as he loomed over me. He shifted his head so that his breath caressed my cheek as he spoke.