“Oh.” I felt crestfallen and embarrassed. I let go of his hair and looked down at my hands. “I’m sorry. I just thought…I wanted…”
“I want it too. Believe me, Megan.” He lifted my chin to make me look at him. His eyes were glowing silver again—that same look I associated with his thirst.
“Then…why not?” I asked uncertainly. “I mean, I didn’t want to…you know. I just thought—”
“You thought a simple kiss couldn’t hurt anything,” he murmured. “Unfortunately, sexual desire and thirst are tied strongly together in mature Nocturnes. Biting is part of making love for us. My thirst is already so great and you are so small and fragile…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
I bit my lip.
“You think you’d hurt me if you let yourself get too, um, worked up? That you’d try to bite me if you let yourself kiss me?” I asked. I couldn’t help remembering the several times he’d come close to kissing me, only to draw back at the last instant.
Griffin sighed.
“I would like to think I would never hurt you, under any circumstances—the lock I wear would keep me from drinking your blood, at least. But as I said, you’re fragile and Nocturnes have many times the strength of humans. If I allowed my desire for you to inflame my thirst which caused me to be careless with you…” He trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air.
“I’m sorry,” I said contritely. “First I show you the key and now I’ve made your unbearable thirst even harder to bear. I didn’t mean to make things worse for you, Griffin.”
He shook his head.
“You haven’t, little witch. As I said, it is sweet torture to be so close to you, but it’s a torture I willingly bear. Would you just let me hold you for a while?”
“I’d like that,” I said and nestled against his chest again. Griffin put his arms around me and for a long time, I allowed myself just to relax against him and enjoy the feeling of finally coming home.
I think I could have sat like that all night, but there were more questions tugging at the corners of my mind—questions and concerns that wouldn’t let me be until I found out their answers.
“I guess we shouldn’t be doing this,” I said at last, with a sigh. “We’re breaking the Edict, aren’t we? The two of us together—a Nocturne and a witch? Or, a Sister, I guess,” I amended.
He laughed dryly.
“I am already being Censured for double murder. I don’t see that breaking the Edict could make things that much worse.” He pulled back a little and looked down at me in concern. “Of course, it’s different for you. Your reputation is unstained—it’s probably better if you stay away from me.”
“Griffin…” I looked up at him in exasperation. “Do you really think I could do that? Stay away from you, I mean? All I want is to get closer to you—to never leave you. I can’t stay away.”
He sighed. “I can’t either, I’m afraid,” he admitted. “It was incredibly hard not to come to you and walk you from your last period class today. But I told myself you didn’t need me anymore—now that Sanchez is gone.” He frowned. “How did that happen, exactly? There are many rumors but I have the feeling you know the truth.”
“I do, as a matter of fact.” I told him about the meeting with Sanchez and the Headmistress and Winifred Rattcliff. But when I spoke the senior witch’s name, Griffin stiffened.
“She was the one who put this on me.” He touched the black padlock with his fingertips. “She’s on the Council of Elders, you know—the terms of my Censure were all her idea—the endless thirst and being kept at Nocturne Academy indefinitely—so Headmistress Nightworthy could keep an eye on me, she said.” He made a face which showed his long, white fangs.
I shivered but didn’t pull away from him. I didn’t need to fear him anymore, I reminded myself. He had seen the key and passed the test it posed—he had chosen to remain locked up rather than put me in danger.
I wasn’t surprised that Winifred Rattcliff had been involved in his Censure a bit.
“I don’t like her,” I said. “Not just because of what she did to you—she’s a horrible woman! I don’t trust her. She tried to get inside my head twice during the meeting.”
He raised an eyebrow at me.
“And you were able to repel her? That’s impressive, Megan. As is the shame-marking you worked on Sanchez in the first place. But then, I never doubted your power.”
“Remember I asked you if you’d ever heard anything about a prophecy?” I asked.
Griffin nodded. “I haven’t but it sounded serious—which is one reason I asked you to meet me tonight instead of waiting for tomorrow.” He gave me a sidelong look. “The other reason, of course, was that I couldn’t wait to see you again.”
“I felt the same way,” I admitted softly.
“But what about the prophecy?” Griffin asked. “What were you talking about?”
“I don’t know, exactly,” I said, frowning. “It was something I heard Ms. Rattcliff tell Nancy. They didn’t know I was listening and she said, ‘she could be the one the prophecy speaks of,’ when they were talking about me. She was also pretty upset when Nancy told her you’d been taking me around to all my classes,” I added. “Though I have no idea why. I, uh, think she figured out you’re the one who marked me.”
“I hope that didn’t cause you too much trouble.” Griffin frowned. “I wanted to protect you at the time, but I guess I could have gone about it a different way. One which wouldn’t have opened you to accusations of breaking the Edict.”
“I’ll be all right,” I said, lifting my chin. “The Headmistress saw it my way.”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“Headmistress Nightworthy has remarkable vision. She has found and admitted some of the most talented Others in the world to Nocturne Academy. In return, the Board of Trustees of the school gives her carte blanche to do as she pleases.”
“She’s the one who admitted me and gave me a full scholarship, when my Aunt Dellie came to put in my application,” I said. I didn’t tell him that the Headmistress had told me I had better not do anything else that came even remotely close to breaking the Edict, though—I didn’t want him to think he’d gotten me into trouble.
“So there is some sort of prophesy involving you and possibly me, but we have no idea what it is…” Griffin mused, getting back to the matter at hand.
“No idea,” I said, shaking my head. “But I wonder if it has anything to do with the reason my mom chose to leave magic behind and raise me as a Norm?” I added, having a sudden thought.
“What?” He looked interested and so of course I had to explain everything I’d learned from Aunt Dellie that afternoon.
“So I just wonder if maybe my mom heard about this ‘prophecy’ whatever it is, and it somehow made her decide to leave the magical world,” I said. “I know if she hadn’t left, Winifred Rattcliff never would have gotten the leadership of the Windermere Coven.”
“Do you think Rattcliff had anything to do with ousting your mother?” Griffin asked, raising an eyebrow. “She seems the type to get rid of rivals at all costs—which could include you, you know, Megan. Especially if the leadership of the coven is supposed to be hereditary. Technically, if you manifest enough power, you might be able to displace her and take back your rightful place.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t want anything to do with the leadership of the Windermere Coven. She can have it.”
“You might think differently if you weren’t so new to the world of the Others,” Griffin said seriously. “The Sister who leads the Windermere Coven is generally acknowledged to be the most powerful witch in the entire South Eastern territory. It’s like being the Alpha Drake or the Fae’s Queen of Light and Shadows or the Master Nocturne.”
“All those people have a lot of underlings beneath them, I guess,” I said, frowning. “But I don’t want any of that, Griffin. I don’t want to be anybody’s boss but my own. I mean, I don’t want to answer to anyone
but myself and I don’t want anyone else answering to me—you know?”
The corners of his mouth twitched up.
“So you want to be your own boss. Which was doubtless why you were so upset when I marked you and proclaimed that I ‘owned’ you.”
I shifted a little in his lap.
“Avery explained that to me. He said it’s not so much a mark of ownership as a sign that you’ll protect me, no matter what.”
“Your coven-mate is completely correct.” Griffin’s pale gray eyes grew serious. “I will always protect you, little witch. No matter what—now that I have marked you, you are my Katarra.”
“Katarra means ‘cherished one,’ right?” I asked shyly, remembering what Headmistress Nightworthy had said.
Griffin nodded and stroked my hot cheek with one cool finger.
“Exactly, my little witch. I will cherish and protect you. As I have said before, I am your Blood Knight.”
His words brought to mind the strange picture I had seen in Avery’s scrying bowl when we had worked the True Heart Revealed spell to see if Griffin wanted to hurt me or not. I told him about it and he frowned.
“So…that was all you saw? An image of the Witch Queen and her Blood Knight? And on those grounds alone you decided to come out with me tonight?”
“Well, no…” I admitted reluctantly. “I didn’t decide because of that. In fact, I didn’t know what the picture meant and I still don’t. And I had no idea if it was safe to go with you. But I just…” I shrugged. “I couldn’t help myself.”
Griffin frowned, his face like a thundercloud and I got the feeling he was genuinely upset with me.
“Megan, did you not hear any of the warnings I gave you when I first made my invitation? Do you know how dangerous it was for you to come to me tonight—especially wearing the key that could unlock my rapacious thirst?” he demanded, glaring at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I couldn’t help myself. There’s just something that draws me to you!”
“For all you knew it could have been luring you to your death,” Griffin growled. “Have you not heard a word I said tonight? Have you forgotten already that I am a murderer, twice over?”
“You’re not,” I said, frowning back at him. “I don’t believe you did that for a minute!”
“Then you are the only one in the entire Other community who doesn’t,” he said dryly and shook his head. “Megan, my little witch—what am I going to do with you? You have no sense of self preservation at all.”
“That’s not true,” I protested.
“Yes, it is,” Griffin asserted. “Look at the facts:” He ticked them off on his fingers. “You shame-marked a rather large Drake who could have let his beast out and eaten you in two bites. You took on a senior witch—the leader of the Windermere Coven no less—only this afternoon. And now you are out in the night with a Censured Nocturne who also happens to be a convicted murderer—and I bet you didn’t tell your aunt where you were going or call your friends before you came with me, either—did you?” he asked.
I hung my head a little.
“Well…I was afraid they might try to stop me,” I admitted to him—and to myself. “I just wanted so much to be with you…”
Griffin put a finger under my chin and lifted my face until I had to meet his eyes.
“I want to be with you too, little witch,” he murmured. “But you have to be safe. Please promise me you will never risk yourself for me again.”
I thought I could safely promise that, now that we both knew he wasn’t going to go crazy and rip my head off.
“I promise,” I said. “And I know it sounds like I’ve been acting kind of reckless but I didn’t mean to. I just kind of…fell into all the trouble I had my first week at the Academy.”
He sighed. “Just like you fell into my arms, I suppose.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Are you complaining?”
“Oh, no.” Griffin gave me a sardonic smile. “How can I complain when all this trouble has ended with us being together? Even if you are more trouble than any four witches put together.”
“You…” I slapped at his arm and the long sleeve of my Henley pulled up with the gesture, revealing my scarred arm.
I moved quickly to pull down the sleeve and hide my scars, but Griffin was quicker.
“Just a moment, Megan,” he murmured, catching my hand in his. With his other hand, he pushed the sleeve all the way up, baring the neat white rows of scars that marched all the way from my wrist to my elbow.
“What are you doing? Stop,” I said uneasily, trying in vain to pull my arm away.
“I don’t think so.” Griffin sounded thoughtful. “It occurs to me that you have heard the worst of my past, but I have heard almost nothing about yours.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” I said uneasily. “I mean, my mom died and my dad left me with my aunt and she sent me to Nocturne Academy where I met you. End of story.”
“Of course that’s not the end of the story.” He frowned. “Will you really make me invoke the truth-telling part of my mark on you? Must I ask you directly how you got these scars?” He nodded at my arm.
I sighed and bit my lip. I had told the story to Avery and Emma and Kaitlyn but it somehow felt scarier to share it with Griffin. They were my coven-mates but he was beginning to feel like a part of my heart. What if he heard what I had done and rejected me?
He seemed to know what I was thinking because he cupped my cheek and looked into my eyes.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” he murmured. “I shared the worst thing in my past with you and you didn’t judge me, though you probably should have. I can do no less for you.”
“Well…” I looked down at my hands. “All right,” I said at last, sliding off his lap to put a little distance between us. “I’ll tell you.”
58
“My mom had cancer,” I began and told him, as I had told my coven-mates, about the pain she’d been in and how none of the medicines the doctors had given her helped.
“It hurt so much to watch her hurting and not be able to do anything about it,” I told Griffin, still looking down at my hands as I sat beside him on the couch. “I felt like I had to do something to release the emotional pain I was feeling or I was going to go crazy. So…I started cutting.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw him nodding thoughtfully.
“I thought it might be something like that,” he murmured. “But I sense there is more to the story.”
“There is,” I said and told him how I had discovered that by cutting I could take my mother’s pain for a little while. “It was like a transfer,” I said. “The pain poured out of her and into me and then she was able to rest.”
“It must have been agonizing,” Griffin said softly.
“It hurt but it wasn’t nearly as bad as seeing her in pain and not being able to do anything about it,” I said. “Me being able to cut for her made a huge difference in those last few months. For both of us, I think. It was the only thing I could do for her and I would definitely do it again.” I lifted my chin defiantly. “Even if it was Blood magic.”
“Ah, yes,” Griffin murmured. “Blood magic—the most forbidden kind of magic a witch can do.”
“It seems to be the only kind of magic I can do,” I said glumly. “I used it when I shame-marked Sanchez and again when I kicked Winifred Rattcliff out of my head when she tried her truth spell on me. I haven’t found any other way to let my magic out so far. I thought for a while that I was somehow blocked but I don’t know now—maybe this is the only way I can do magic.”
“Maybe it is.” Griffin shrugged. “What of it?”
“What of it?” I asked, frowning. “Well…it’s forbidden, like you said. Avery says it’s like using the nuclear option every time.”
“So? Who does it hurt if you use the ‘nuclear option’?” Griffin asked. “Just as who does it hurt if we break the Edict? Why should we abide by the laws of a group of Elders who
are simply passing down dusty traditions from our ancestors?”
I personally thought he had a point but I doubted the rest of the magical community would agree.
“It was my own ancestor, Corinne Latimer, who came up with the Edict in the first place,” I pointed out. “And she’s the one who outlawed Blood magic too. Even though Avery told me rumor is she used to do Blood magic herself.” I frowned. “Why would she outlaw her own magic?”
Griffin shook his head and winced, one long white hand going to his throat.
“I don’t know. Excuse me.”
He got up and went over to a small sink set into one wall of the caboose. There were no other kitchen appliances—I supposed because as a Nocturne, he had no need to cook anything.
Griffin drew himself a glass of water from the sink and drank it thirstily in long swallows. Then he drew another and sipped it more slowly.
I looked at him anxiously as he put the glass away and came to sit by me again.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said, a bit too dismissively, I thought. “The thirst is…especially bad tonight. The water helps some, though not nearly as much as I would like.”
I knew why his thirst was so bad tonight—it was because being near me was, as he had described it, sweet torture. My very presence and the scent of my skin and the blood pumping under it made things harder for him—so much harder.
I tried to imagine what it would be like to be with someone you wanted so badly and cared for so deeply and yet to know that having them near you would cause terrible pain.
What an awful thought.
“I should go,” I said, standing up reluctantly. “This is too hard for you, Griffin. Being so near me for so long when you’re so thirsty…”
“I don’t care about any of that,” he said, frowning. “I just want to be with you, Megan. It’s all I’ve wanted from the first moment I saw you.”
“But your thirst—” I began.
“Has been unrelenting for the past fifteen years,” Griffin said firmly. “I refuse to let it rule me—I will not let it drive you away.” He reached for my hand and pulled me back down to the couch with him. “Stay with me, Megan,” he murmured. “For just a little while longer.”
Lock and Key Page 29