Ever My Merlin (Book 3, My Merlin Series)

by Ardis, Priya

  Okay, forget intimidation. Seduction was way better. I said throatily, “I thought you’d be holed up all day at the manor doing research.”

  “I remembered something during our last sojourn to the library. I came to see it.”

  “Why did you go to history, then?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to suppress a smile. “Did you miss high school?”

  “I simply wanted to remember what’s its like to be in a place where you have all your possibilities in front of you.”

  “Uh-huh.” I didn’t believe him. He had fun here. I could tell from his voice.

  He made an irritated sound and grabbed my crutch. His arm around my shoulder propelled me forward. We went up a short flight of stairs and down another hallway that led to the front of the building. Decorations and glittery signs advertised various clubs and activities. One banner shouted out at me. It was the same one I’d seen in my head when I came out of Elysium. The one I focused on when the Minotaur was attacking—correction: saving—me. Prom Tickets on sale now! With a black marker, someone had scribbled underneath, “Still available! Best Prom at ACH ever!!”

  I must have stared at the banner for too long because Doppelganger-Matt waved a hand in front of my face. He asked flippantly, “Dreaming of ball gowns and flirty dances?”

  I kept a straight face. “More like mini-dresses and dirty dances.”

  Doppelganger-Matt’s cheeks puffed. He halted in the middle of the hallway and turned to look down at me. “Is that why you’re wearing that minuscule skirt?”

  Miniscule? I smoothed down my skirt even though the hem fell just above my knee—close enough for regulation length. Maybe it wasn’t such a bright idea to wear a skirt while hopping around on a crutch, but after Sri Lanka—I had no desire to pull on cargos for a long time. Besides, May was one of only three months in Boston when I could wear something that wasn’t seven layers thick.

  Doppelganger-Matt smirked at the self-conscious reaction. I stopped fighting with the skirt and decided to play. Putting my hand on his waist as if to steady myself, I fluttered my lashes. “Maybe I’m wearing it to get a date. Know anyone who’d want to… dance with me?”

  His eyes narrowed. The bell rang. Students rushed into class around us.

  I pushed away from him and reached for my crutch. “Time to go.”

  “I don’t think so.” He caught my wrist, his brows set in a deep V across his forehead. Before I could do more than squeak, he picked me up, as the crutch swung wildly in the air.

  “W-what are you doing?” I sputtered.

  “Calling your bluff.” Doppelganger-Matt carried me a few steps to a closed door on the wall next to us. A placard on the door designated it as the student store. He leaned my back against the door as he twisted the knob. It opened. I felt pretty sure he used magic, but I didn’t see the telltale green spark to absolutely confirm him as Vane.

  As soon as we crossed the threshold, he kicked the door shut, flipped the light switch, and set me down. Under the dim yellow of a single overhead bulb, he stared at me. The student store was actually a converted walk-in closet. I leaned heavily on my crutch and listened to the loud sound of my labored breathing in the enclosed space.

  Doppelganger-Matt’s eyes glittered with some unnamed emotion. From the rapid way his chest rose and fell, I couldn’t tell if he was simply pissed or far beyond pissed. Not that he had a real reason to be.

  He said silkily, “So you want to dirty dance with Merlin?”

  Merlin. I almost laughed. His eyes may have been amber, but the green flame of jealousy couldn’t be hidden. Metaphorically and literally. At the thought, more nervous laughter bubbled up inside me. I tried to squelch it, but my lips twitched.

  “Are you laughing at me?” Doppelganger-Matt scowled.

  I giggled. “A little—”

  I never finished the thought. He yanked me to him. I dropped the crutch. His mouth swooped down on mine. The kiss, layered with hunger, half-punished and half-begged. I tasted the rage of a turbulent ocean. Unlike Matt’s scent of fresh soap, Doppelganger-Matt wore cologne. Dark wood mingled with coarse tobacco—it was uniquely Vane. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on. Even though I responded, the kiss wasn’t gentle. He moved away from the door. Without breaking contact, he adjusted my legs to wrap around his waist and carried me a few feet to the cashier’s stand.

  My pulse beating to the pounding rhythm of a DJ’s thumping dance mix, I tongued him with every ounce of breath I had. When he lifted his head, I moaned in protest.

  His lips grazed the pulse throbbing at my neck. Teeth bit the spot lightly. “Do you know how badly I want you?”

  He leaned away to reach under the cash register, yanking out a condom. My eyes went from the shiny wrapper to the shelf behind his head. Beside an array of candy bars, white notebook paper, and baseball hats, a baby’s bib hung from a hook. The words “AC High” had been embroidered on cute white terry cloth.

  The fog of hormones clouding my brain evaporated, and it all became too real.

  Doppelganger-Matt’s styled hair had become shaggy under the ministrations of my desperate fingers. Brown waves fell over his face. Still it was Matt’s face. Amber eyes, Matt’s amber eyes, locked on mine. But I didn’t want Matt.

  Doppelganger-Matt pushed the hair back from my face. He traced the line of my jaw. Our lips met again in a gentle press. Not content, his mouth devoured mine. With a silent gasp, I closed my eyes and pictured Vane. His tongue explored my mouth sending little shivers of electricity through me. Heat pooled between my legs. My chest burrowed into his, strong arms tightened around me, arching me against him.

  From the way my body throbbed for a release, I was tempted to allow the charade to continue. As messed up as it was, it would be so easy to let him pretend. Dealing with Monster-Vane was complicated. This way, we could ignore the problems between us. We could simply be a boy and girl.

  My fingernails dug deep into his shoulders. The temptation was strong.

  If I let him do this, it would only last for this fleeting moment in time. Not a bad thing. The end of the world was coming. I didn’t really want to die unloved. Yet, at the same time, I knew if we did this while he pretended to be Matt, we’d never recover. This twisted game wasn’t fair to us. It wasn’t fair to Matt.

  And deep down, I still believed there would be more.

  My fingernails detached from his shoulder. My legs let go of his waist.

  I tore my mouth away.

  Doppelganger-Matt blinked at the release.

  Defensive shields rose and his lips curled into a sneer. “You were bluffing.”

  Even if I had been, I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. “Tick-tock” the hands of a clock in the corner of the room chimed. I gambled, making my last play. I laid my palm on his chest, above the solid thump of his heart. “I’m not bluffing. I’m just not letting you get off so cheap. I should at least get some roses or dinner or something before my deflowering.”

  I let the words sink in. Startled, he drew back. He raked a hand through brown hair and grinned sheepishly. “I forgot. How about that dance instead?”

  I arched a brow. “Is this your way of asking me to Prom?”

  He bristled. “It’s one week from now. I doubt you’ll get a better offer—”

  “Will you please shut up?” I sighed. “My answer is yes.”

  He stilled. “Good.”

  “Good, you’re picking me up. I want a limo.” Actually, I could have cared less about a limo, but I did enjoy ordering him around.

  “Fine,” he said in a husky tone. “I’ll even bring a corsage, if you bring the skirt.”

  Translation. You bring the sex.

  For show, he took out a few more condoms from under the register.

  I flushed at the sight of more plastic wrappers. “How did you know those were there?”

  He stuck them in his pocket. “Kids talk.”

  “They
don’t talk to me,” I muttered.

  Husky laughter soothed me. “Your reputation is too clean.”

  “And yours isn’t?”

  “I never claimed otherwise.” He glanced up. A small mirror hanging down from the ceiling (to keep an eye on potential shoplifters) reflected his face—Matt’s face. His expression shuttered at the glimpse of his appearance.

  Mentally, I sighed. Oh, the games we play.

  He pulled fully away from me and went to pick up my crutch, which had fallen near the door. I jumped down and tottered over to him. He thrust the steel crutch at me. “If you’re done distracting me, shall we proceed to the library?”

  Without waiting for a reply, he stalked to the door. I saw him fumble with the doorknob, muttering curses under his breath. I watched him, chewing my lip, but not saying anything. Finally, the knob turned and he banged the door open. He hurried off down the hall.

  I caught up a few minutes later. Down the hallway, around one turn, I found myself in front of the closed double doors of the library. As I struggled with one heavy door, it flew open. Doppelganger-Matt propped it open and pulled me inside with a look of exasperation. The musty scent of books hit me immediately. No one sat behind the high bar that enclosed the checkout area. Glancing around, I saw no one in the library. A low barrier of bookshelves separated a study area from bigger shelves extending from floor to ceiling that filled up the rest of the room. Not a soul roamed the stacks.

  I wondered if Doppelganger-Matt had broken in while the librarian was on a break. He led me into the study area of neatly lined tables. I paused, picturing the lion on top of them. My throat dry, I swallowed. The memory of what happened came rushing back, and even though it was only in my head and not physically here, the details of the library were too accurate for my mind not to replay the scene.

  Doppelganger-Matt stopped just before a waist-high bookshelf directly at the library’s center. He let out a breath. “It’s not here.”

  “Maybe it’s below?”

  He knelt to run a finger through an ordered stack of coffee table books.

  “What are you all fired up about?” I moved closer to his side and propped my crutch against the shelf. When I leaned against his shoulder, he stiffened.

  I yawned. “I’m getting a little tired.”

  Grabbing me by the waist, he hoisted me up and set me on the shelf. “You shouldn’t have come to school at all.”

  I said in a husky voice, “Think of all the fun I would have missed.”

  Without commenting, he knelt back down and eyed the books. A soft blush covered his cheeks. I bit my lip to stop a smile. It was cute.

  “This is it.” He stopped on one book and pulled it out. I leaned over, but I couldn’t see its title. His body effectively covered it. He pulled up his shirt, showing Matt’s lean abs, and tucked the book into his jeans. Lucky book. I caught a glimpse of the back cover—an illustration I didn’t recognize, soft hues of red, cream, and blue—before he yanked his shirt down.

  “What’s in the book?” I asked.

  Doppelganger-Matt stood up. Keeping the book out of my sight, he leaned closer, as if he were going in for another kiss. My pulse spiked. He slipped my phone out of my pocket.

  I tried to grab it back from him, but he moved away. “What are you doing?”

  “Texting Ragnar.” His fingers flew deftly over the touch-screen phone.

  Another reason Doppelganger-Matt could not be the real Matt. The real Matt picked at the screen with excruciating slowness. He handed the phone back to me. I glanced at the screen. The text read—In the library. Sick. Take me home.

  “High-handed, aren’t you?” I remarked.

  “Yes.” He pulled me off the bookshelf. A hand snaked around my neck and drew me in for a quick yet heartfelt kiss. My other hand curled in soft, brown hair. His hand slid up my bare leg. I caught it before he reached too far up. Squeezing my thigh, he pulled away. “Happy birthday, Ryan.”

  My mouth was freed, yet I remained breathless.

  Before I could manage more than a blink, he loped halfway across the library.

  “Wear something pretty Saturday,” I called out.

  “Get a longer skirt,” he replied, without turning around.

  He left through the open door. I looked down and made a face. He’d left my skirt hiked up. I smoothed it. I heard a shuffling at the door. My head jerked up. Mild unease filled me at the thought that someone might have actually seen us.

  Matt, the real Matt with pensive amber eyes and sober expression, came into the library. Marilynn trailed him. My mild unease turned to full-blown embarrassment.

  “It was Vane,” I said.

  “I figured.” Matt walked toward the bookshelf. His eyes flickered over the low tables. The memory of the lion washed over us. Matt held my gaze. “Why me?”

  Why did I kiss Vane while he looked like Matt? Or why did Vane take his form? Either answer was one Matt wouldn’t like. I chose another safer one. “He snuck in to get something from the library.”

  Matt wasn’t fooled. His gaze fell on my mouth, puffy lips that still tingled.

  “It’s not him anymore, Ryan.”

  “You’re not giving him much of a chance, Merlin.”

  “I’ve given him plenty. So did Blake. He can’t be trusted.” He glanced at the bookshelf. “If he could be, then why sneak in here? Why the disguise? Which book did he take?”

  I played with my bottom lip. “He didn’t want me to see—”

  “Typical,” Marilynn muttered from behind Matt.

  I tamped down an urge to stick my tongue out at her like a five-year-old. “I saw a picture on the back cover. I can search for it in the library database.”

  “It gives us something, at least,” Matt said. His unhappy expression didn’t waver. He gestured at Marilynn. “Take over for her this afternoon as we planned. Ryan’s had enough time to be normal.”

  I shook off the weariness sapping my strength. Stubbornness straightened my spine. “Stop thinking you can run my life, Matt. I’ll be home after school.” I scowled at Marilynn. “I don’t need the duplicate to fill in.”

  “We should follow up on this right away,” Matt shot back. “Stop being so childish.”

  It was the worst possible thing to say. My hackles rose even more. “We can work on it this afternoon.” I told Marilynn sweetly, “You can cover the afterschool Prom meeting.”

  Matt raked a hand through his hair in frustration. “Everyone is depending on us—”

  I didn’t waver. “They can wait a few hours.”

  Matt’s lips tightened. Turning on his heel, he walked out.

  Marilynn shook her head. “You’re an idiot, DuLac. He says it’s for everyone, but he only looks at you. He’s doing this for you.”

  I stared after Matt. If that were true, it would have been him taking me to Prom. It would have been him who remembered my birthday. I said softly, “No, he’s not doing this for me. He just hasn’t admitted as much to himself.”

  CHAPTER 13 – THE TEMPEST

  CHAPTER 13

  THE TEMPEST

  I went home early. After five hours of sitting still in class, I was beyond exhausted, so I decided to skip last period. A.P. Chemistry. I abandoned the idea that I would be taking any of the advanced placement tests. Not that it would even matter anymore. I had to survive the apocalypse first. It took all the motivation out of studying.

  Anyway, I spent most of my other classes surfing the Internet for information on the book Vane took. The library database had no pictures. Once or twice I got caught, but a sob story of how worried my mother (Sylvia) was after the attack let me off the hook. One morning with Vane, and I’d already turned manipulative. He was not a good influence.

  I pushed down the guilt, telling myself it was for a higher purpose. If only high school gave extra credit for save-the-world projects. I looked out the window. Furious clouds hid the radiance of the sun. I wondered if the planet wanted to fight back. I hoped so.


  Annoyed that I hadn’t found anything, I decided to talk to Matt.

  Yawning, I forced myself to make the long walk down the hall to Sylvia’s study at the back of the house. It was past a front foyer, various living rooms, and the kitchen. More rain pelted the thick-paned windows. The manor was built in a flat clearing, but the land was on lower ground than the rest of the woods surrounding it. In winter, the school bus couldn’t make it up and down the path. Today, the weather didn’t seem much better. Inches of water rose around the manor’s foundation. The house would soon become an island if the rain didn’t abate.

  Grey stood outside the study. His hand clutched the doorknob and he was in the middle of opening it, but instead of going in, he pulled it back shut. Then he stood staring at the block of wood with a flabbergasted expression. When he spotted me, the tips of his ears turned red. “Ah, maybe we should get a quick snack first.”

  “Did you remind Marilynn she needs to go to school for the meeting?”

  His arm went across the doorframe, effectively blocking me from it. “I called ahead earlier. I was going to bring you home anyway after last period. She said she’d be ready. It’s still a little early.”

  I yawned again. “Okay, well, I need to talk to Matt. Is he in there?”

  “Uh, you should get some rest first. You look pretty tired,” he said quickly. “I can tell him whatever you need.”

  I frowned at his odd behavior. “It’s complicated. I’m trying to figure out which book Vane took from school.”

  Gia came up behind me. “What’s going on? Why are you blocking the door?”

  “Uh.” Grey turned to answer her.

  I took advantage of his distraction. In his haste, Grey hadn’t clicked the door fully shut. I flung it open with my crutch.

  “Shit,” Gia muttered.

  My eyes immediately found what Grey wanted to hide. Past a huge, mahogany desk strewn with papers, books, and two open laptops, on a one-armed sofa framed by huge glass doors, long slender fingers tangled in shiny brown hair, girl’s fingers in a boy’s hair.

  In return, Matt’s hands wound around long, dark-blond strands of hair. My strands. As I watched, he caressed apple cheekbones. My cheekbones. She straddled him while he lay back on the soft cushion of the sofa. He gripped her neat waist to grind her narrow hips closer to his. My waist. My hips.