I wanted to stay with him forever, of course, but the thought that I was hurting him with my very presence made me horribly uncomfortable. The idea that I was making his excruciating thirst worse and there was nothing I could do about it was a special kind of torment.
Or was there?
Suddenly I had an idea. Probably not a very safe idea, but one I thought might really help if it worked.
Though if it didn’t work, I might end up dead.
59
I looked around for a knife or anything sharp, but I couldn’t see anything that would be remotely useful. As I said earlier, there were no kitchen implements anywhere in the converted caboose except for the sink.
Then I felt the black key pricking at me, as though trying to get my attention.
Oh, no, I thought at it. There’s no way I’m pulling you out again—seeing you was hard enough on Griffin the first time and I’m trying to make his thirst better, not worse.
But the key pricked at me insistently, scratching me almost sharply enough to draw blood.
Suddenly I understood what it was trying to do.
Before I could give myself time to think, I plunged my hand down the neckline of my shirt and gripped it between my fingers.
“Megan?” Griffin was looking at me warily. “What exactly are you doing?” he asked in a low, measured tone. “Please don’t bring the key out again. You have no idea how difficult it is to resist or how sharply it makes my thirst spike.”
“Your thirst is what I’m going to try to help,” I told him. “But I have to take the key out for just a minute to do it. I promise I’ll be quick.”
“Megan, please—” he began but then I pulled the black key with its glittering Blood Stones out of my shirt.
Gripping it tightly between the finger and thumb of my right hand, I pressed the sharp end of the key—which had somehow gotten sharper until it was almost like a needle—into the pad of my left thumb.
Griffin’s eyes widened when he saw what I was doing.
“No!” he roared. “Megan no—don’t cut yourself in front of me! The scent of your blood so close will be too much. You can’t understand—”
And then his words died away to nothing and a look of wonder and surprise came over his face as his long fingers went to his throat.
At the same time, I felt my own throat tighten. Agonizing pain shot through me, as though the tender tissues there were suddenly lined with barbed wire. At the same time, a thirst so great I felt like I could drink an ocean of water suddenly struck me.
I struggled for a moment with the pain and the desperate thirst. I felt like I was dying—like I had to drink something or I would shrivel up and blow away like a tumbleweed on the wind.
Was this what Griffin had felt every moment of every day for the last fifteen years? No wonder he was often scary and sarcastic—this was agony—complete torture! And yet somehow he dealt with it and went on about his day—I wondered how he could.
“Megan?” His voice brought me back to myself and I looked up at him as the intense pain began to ease a little bit. As with my mother, the pain I had taken didn’t last forever—it was only hard to bear at first.
“I’m…” I coughed. “I’m okay,” I finished hoarsely. It hurt to talk but not as much as I had feared.
“Here—you need some water. It helps.”
He got up from the couch and got me a glass of water from the sink. I drank it thirstily and it helped a little. Bit by bit I felt the pain and thirst fading—I just hoped they weren’t pouring back into Griffin. But from the cautiously relieved look on his face, they weren’t.
Somehow, I had given him a temporary respite, just as I had been able to do for my mother.
He put his hand to his throat again.
“This is the first time in fifteen years I haven’t been in pain—haven’t been tormented by thirst.” He shook his head and looked at me wonderingly. “You took the pain and thirst for me, didn’t you? You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?” I asked and found that I had hardly any pain at all now. I took another swallow of water and was glad to see that it quenched the last of the terrible thirst.
“Because I don’t want you to hurt yourself for me.” Griffin sounded stern.
“But it helped, right?” I asked anxiously. “And it’s still helping?”
He nodded reluctantly. “How long will it last?”
I shrugged. “For my mom it seemed to be anywhere from two to four hours. So I really don’t know. I hope as long as possible.”
“It’s amazing.” He touched his throat again as though he couldn’t believe it, then frowned at me. “I don’t want you doing it again, though.”
“Why not?” I asked again, with exasperation. “It hurts at first but the pain fades pretty quickly and it gives you relief.”
“Listen to me, Megan…” He took me by the shoulders. “You are not my sin eater. I wouldn’t wish the pain and thirst I bear on anyone—least of all my Katarra.”
“You’re not the only one with power,” I pointed out. “Just because you marked me and promised to protect me doesn’t mean I can’t do the same for you. In fact…”
Reaching out, I pressed the pad of my left thumb to his forehead, right between his black brows.
I felt a tingling go through my arm and then into my whole body. Again it was like being naked outside in a snowstorm and feeling each separate snowflake as it kissed my body.
Only this time, Griffin was in the center of the storm with me.
“Megan!” He grabbed for my wrist but when he pulled my hand away, it was already too late. Even as I yanked my wrist out of his grip, I saw the bloody outline of my thumbprint fade away as the blood soaked into his skin.
In its place, was a softly glowing, diamond-shaped mark. It was like he was wearing a tiny, luminescent jewel just under his skin.
In my own forehead, I felt a similar warm glow—a glow that seemed to spread through my whole body, replacing the snowflakes feeling with a rush of heat. It was done—first Griffin had marked me and now I had marked him.
We had broken the Edict not once but twice and it was obvious we had done so.
60
“You shouldn’t have done that—it’s permanent, you know.” Griffin’s voice was calm but his eyes were glowing and not only with thirst this time, I realized. He was looking at me with a kind of hunger—a need to get closer. A need to own—to possess and caress and make me his.
I felt a similar need growing inside myself. A desperate desire to be closer to him. I reached for Griffin and he reached for me at the same time, his cool hand cupping my cheek.
“Megan,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
“I want to kiss you,” I blurted, unable to help myself. “I know you said it was dangerous but I—”
Griffin cut me off by pulling me into his arms and taking my mouth in a searing kiss.
My heart thundered in my ears and I kissed him back desperately—as though he was the only source of oxygen in the room and I would die without him. I would have expected his mouth to be cool, like the rest of him, but it was hot…hot and sensual and demanding in a way that made me feel like I was melting in his arms.
I’ll admit I was a virgin and I didn’t have very much experience at all. After my mom had died, I had buried myself in my books and I could count the number of boys I’d gone out with on one hand. So I wasn’t a very experienced kisser—but Griffin made up for that by being good enough for both of us.
His mouth on mine took my breath away and then he bent me over his arm and began kissing along my jaw…and then trailing hot, soft kisses down the side of my neck.
I gasped as parts of my body I’d never paid much attention to before lit up and began to tingle and ache. He was driving me crazy—waking me up in a way I hadn’t known was possible. My heart was pounding and my blood was rushing in my veins and all I wanted was more.
I turned my head to the side, giving me better a
ccess to my throat—to the vulnerable side of my neck where the carotid artery pulsed. I felt the sharp tips of his fangs skate dangerously along the tender flesh and didn’t care—in fact, I realized hazily, I wanted him to bite me. Wanted to give him everything—my body, my blood…my very being.
I wanted to belong to Griffin Darkheart in every possible way and I didn’t give a damn how dangerous it was.
I felt the needle-sharp points of his fangs settled right over the pulsing vessel in my throat but still he hesitated. Murmuring his name, I reached up to thread my fingers through his hair, drawing him down, letting him know I wanted this as badly as he did…
Suddenly Griffin jerked away from me.
His arms left me so suddenly, I felt back onto the couch in an undignified heap. Looking up, I saw that he was clutching at his throat, at the thick black chain of his necklace. The Blood Stones on the four corners of the lock were glowing so brightly I almost couldn’t look at them.
“All right,” I heard Griffin say in a strangled voice. “All right, I got carried away. Forgive me!”
“What happened? What’s wrong?” I sat up, looking at him anxiously.
He shook his head and grimaced. Then the necklace around his neck seemed to ease its grip and the glow of the Blood Stones in the lock faded.
“I nearly went too far with you and the lock stopped me,” he said, frowning and massaging his throat where a red ligature mark was forming. “As well it should,” he added severely. “I never should have even come close to biting you.”
“It was my fault,” I said, biting my lip. “I shouldn’t have marked you and then…did what I did.”
I could feel my cheeks getting hot when I remembered how shamelessly I had thrown myself at him and the way I had reacted to his kisses…almost like a female animal in heat. Even now I could feel myself still wanting him but I made certain to keep some distance between us—what was wrong with me?
“It wasn’t your fault.” Griffin ran both hands through his hair and got up, pacing around the small living area as though to work off his pent-up energy. “I have heard that a double marking can sometimes have that kind of effect, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of one so strong…so overwhelming.”
“I can still feel myself wanting you,” I confessed in a small voice. “I’ve never felt like this before. Like I’m almost hungry to be touched.”
“And I am hungry to touch you, but we must not.” Griffin sounded stern again.
“But why not?” I asked plaintively. I felt like a child who had been denied the candy she wanted—no, that was too mild a metaphor. I felt like a starving woman who was desperate to eat and had just had the food yanked away from her. My whole body ached for his touch and when I remembered the feeling of his hot mouth and sharp fangs on my neck, I shivered helplessly with desire.
“Little witch…” Griffin sat down beside me again, his voice gentle. “How old are you, Megan?”
“Sixteen,” I said mutinously. “So what, though? Isn’t that the age of consent in Florida?” Actually, I had no idea what the age of consent was and I frankly didn’t care—I just wanted to be with him—to be one with him and nothing else mattered to me.
“You are underage,” Griffin said, frowning. “And you’re still a virgin, too—aren’t you?”
I would have liked to lie but the fact that we were now “double marked” as Griffin had put it seemed to strengthen my urge to tell him the truth immeasurably.
“Yes,” I said reluctantly. “So?”
“So, you’re not ready for this,” Griffin said gently but firmly. “I’m not going to take what you’re not ready to give.”
“But I am ready!” I protested. In fact, my entire body was aching and throbbing and insisting I was ready.
But Griffin was shaking his head.
“I could have hurt you just now—badly,” he said, frowning at me. “Maybe even killed you, Megan. Love between Nocturnes is sometimes brutal. I’m glad the lock stopped me.” He tapped the black lock at his throat meaningfully.
I glared at him.
“Stop acting like I’m some fragile butterfly that has to be protected!”
“And what happens to a butterfly if it lands on your palm and your hand squeezes into a fist?” Griffin demanded.
“It wouldn’t be like that,” I protested. “You can be gentle, Griffin—I know you can. I trust you.”
“Well I don’t trust myself,” he said shortly. “What if my pain and thirst had returned at the very moment I was trying to ‘be gentle’ with you? You said yourself this cessation of agony won’t last forever.”
I supposed he had a point there. And I didn’t mean to sound so insistent. It was just that my body felt like it was on fire with need and it seemed like he was withholding exactly what I was craving so badly.
Still—it was time to get hold of myself.
I took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” I said at last, letting the breath out as I tried to relax. “I’ve just…never felt like that, ever. Is it…” I bit my lip. “Is it because I’m a virgin?” I asked in a low voice, feeling my cheeks heat at the question. “I mean is wanting to…to make love—is it always like this?”
Griffin shook his head at once.
“No—it’s never been like this. For me, at least,” he admitted. “Though I do have more experience than you, I have never felt anything like the desire I felt when you marked me.”
“Do you think it has something to do with the fact that we’re different kinds of Others?” I asked, having a thought.
“Possibly.” Griffin looked thoughtful. “It would certainly be a reason for the Edict to be so rigidly enforced. If the attraction between different kinds of Others is so strong, it would be difficult to resist.”
“But doesn’t the Edict actually keep Others of different species from feeling attraction to each other in the first place?” I asked, trying to remember exactly what Avery had told me.
Griffin shrugged.
“I might have in previous generations. But I think you and I are proof that it isn’t working quite the way it used to.”
“I want to be close to you again,” I said, knowing I sounded shamelessly needy and unable to help it. “If I promise to behave myself do you think you could…could hold me again?”
Griffin sighed and raked a hand through his hair.
“I think so. The feeling when you marked me caught me by surprise but I’m on my guard now. And I will not do anything that you might regret in the future. Especially while you are still underage.”
There we went with the age thing again. I had a feeling that was going to be a problem for some time to come—at least two years to be exact. But at this point, I would take what I could get.
“Just hold me then,” I said, scooting closer to him.
Griffin put an arm around me and drew me close to his side. As he touched me, I felt the zing of warmth and the diamond-shaped mark on his forehead, which had disappeared when he had stopped touching me, suddenly blazed into life again.
“You’re glowing,” I said, looking up at him.
“So are you, little witch.” He sighed and shook his head. “This is going to make things extremely complicated back at the Academy, you know.”
I was sure he was right but just at that moment I didn’t care. All I wanted was to stay in his arms as long as possible and not think about anything but being close to him.
I would worry about the Academy and the implications of what we had done tonight, later.
61
“You what?” Avery demanded, looking at me with wide eyes across the Formica tabletop where he and Emma and Kaitlyn and I were all sitting.
The I Scream You Scream diner was a throwback to the golden age of ice cream sodas and poodle skirts. There were wide padded booths, covered in shiny red vinyl, framed posters of Elvis and The Four Tops, and Chuck Berry on the walls, and even a juke box in the corner that didn’t have a single song written after 1960.
>
Seriously, it looked like something out of the set of Grease, the Musical.
But it wasn’t the décor I was looking at—it was Avery’s shocked and disbelieving face.
“Are you seriously telling me you marked him back?” he asked me.
“Can’t you tell by looking at my forehead?” I said.
They all leaned forward and peered at me—at the spot between my eyebrows where Aunt Dellie claimed “the third eye” was placed. I hadn’t seen anything there myself this morning when I looked in the mirror but then, I hadn’t seen it when Griffin had first marked me either.
Avery sighed and shook his head.
“No, thank the Goddess,” he remarked and frowned. “Though I can’t understand why not. Usually when people mark each other, it’s there for everyone to see.”
“It shows when we touch each other,” I said and blushed.
Emma and Kaitlyn exchanged an unreadable look and Avery shook his head again.
“Girl, you have it bad. But could you have picked a worse guy to fall for? The school bad-boy and a Censured Nocturne. Not to mention the fact that he’s from a whole different species of Other so you’ve now officially broken the Edict twice.”
“Keep it down, will you?” I hissed, looking around.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Emma said. “People from the Academy hardly ever come here—it’s strictly a Norm hangout. Most of our fellow students prefer the café on campus.”
I was partial to the café myself, but it only served drinks, which made it useless as a substitute for the awful cafeteria food.
“Besides, you’re not going to be able to hide being double marked with a Nocturne for long,” Avery said, frowning. “It wouldn’t matter if Headmistress Nightworthy herself walked in here and overheard us because eventually this particular kitty is coming out of the designer handbag.”
“Well, even if she is, uh, double marked now, at least it doesn’t show up unless she touches Griffin,” Kaitlyn volunteered, clearly trying to stick up for me. “I mean, maybe they’ll be able to hide it.”
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