Briar: A Reverse Harem Romance (Midnight's Crown Book 1)

by Ripley Proserpina

  For her part, Briar stood on her tiptoes and did an impression of an old fashioned cat clock, eyes darting from side to side. “So no coffins?’

  “Are you honestly asking me this question?”

  “No,” she answered. “Sorry.” She took a deep breath and yelled, “Valen!”

  The wind ruffled her hair, blowing the locks into her face and into her eyes. When wearing gloves, it was difficult to grasp the silky strands and tuck them behind her ear. The hat didn’t help, as it had a string to catch below her chin and her hair tangled in it.

  “Are you all right? Why are you yelling?” Valen stood in front of her and reached toward her face, extracting her hair and pushing it back behind her ear.

  “There you are,” she said, and held his hand when he would have pulled it away. “I’m so sorry. I was rude and mean. You didn’t deserve that.” She stared up at him and wished she could take off her glasses and hat to see him better, and so he could see her and know she was genuinely sorry. He didn’t answer, and her belly ached. “Valen, I’m so sorry.”

  The thought of having offended him more than he could forgive terrified her, and she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  His hands hung at his side as he stood there like a statue. Briar squeezed harder, and then began to release him. If he didn’t forgive her, that was how it went. She’d just have to work harder to earn it.

  “Wait,” he grumbled, and pulled her forward, arms going around her shoulders, careful of her bandage. “I forgive you.”

  “I was a jerk,” she mumbled into his shirt but held onto him even tighter. Valen’s heart beat beneath her ear. One thump, a long pause, then another.

  Earlier, Sylvain said Valen tried to hold things to him, especially when they wanted to go. She didn’t want to be one of those things Valen was unsure of.

  Her friendship and love weren’t contingent on anything.

  “Sylvain’s coming with me to school,” she said, and he made a sound of agreement. It vibrated against her ear, tickling her. “Do you want to come, too? Come to my chemistry lab?”

  Valen stepped back and stared down at her. “You want both of us to come to school with you?”

  “Why not?”

  Over her head, Valen watched someone and finally nodded. “Okay. You won’t be embarrassed?”

  “Why in the world would I be embarrassed? I’ll have the two of you with me. I won’t be alone. I’ll have someone to get lost with, someone to eat lunch with, or next to because we have so many vampire details unclear.” Briar took a breath. “We can stop in and see Hudson. Oh no!”

  Sylvain and Valen had identical expressions on their faces. They watched her wide-eyed, and opened-mouthed and every so often, glanced toward each other. “What?” Sylvain asked.

  “I didn’t say goodbye to Hudson or Marcus. Or say thank you for—” Embarrassed, Briar turned around to speed walk home, but Sylvain caught her shoulder. “Hudson is at work, as is Marcus. They would have come to you when you awoke if they’d been home. I believe Marcus left a note.”

  Briar let out a breath and allowed Sylvain to spin her back around. “Okay.”

  The excitement of the morning finally caught up to her, and a wave of nausea made her swallow hard. She had run out of the house without eating, and it’d been a full twenty-four hours since she’d last had a pudding cup. “We have time for coffee and a muffin,” Briar said. “Do you mind stopping?”

  “Of course not,” Sylvain answered, but Valen interrupted him. “Actually…”

  Glancing around, Valen spied what he’d been looking for and snagged a paper bag on the ground. “Here.”

  Inside was a still-warm muffin.

  “Oh,” she said. So after she’d yelled at him, he’d gone to a bakery to get her breakfast. Tears pricked at Briar’s eyes, but she sniffed and blinked them back. “Thank you, Valen.” Hopefully, he wouldn’t be able to tell she was close to tears. She risked meeting his eyes. “This was very sweet. Especially after how mean I was.”

  “You weren’t mean.” He held her shoulders and began to walk with her. “You were frustrated. I get it. Believe me. I hang out with this guy, and he’s the king of push and pull.”

  Sylvain shrugged and ambled next to them, hands stuffed in his pockets. Briar nibbled the muffin. It was delicious and exactly what she needed. Her stomach settled, and she could concentrate on what the day would bring.

  When they got to Boston College, Sylvain and Valen navigated like they’d been there a million times. They knew the names of different buildings and where to find them.

  It took all the guesswork out of Briar’s day, which was nice. Though she’d been careful to explore the campus before classes started, with everything that had happened this week, she was completely discombobulated.

  If the guys hadn’t been with her, no doubt she’d have gotten lost, and probably would have missed some of her class.

  Like she’d expected, Valen and Sylvain got a lot of open-mouthed stares, most of them from girls. Briar didn’t blame them. Together, Valen and Sylvain were a sight.

  And when they sat on either side of her, dwarfing her, while she listened to a lecture on matter and measurement, she couldn’t have been happier. Every so often, she’d sneak a peek at them. To their credit, they listened intently. When once Sylvain caught her staring, he lifted his eyebrows and glanced toward the front of the room as if to say, pay attention.

  Briar nodded, focusing again on the lecturer.

  Her day flew by. Both her first class and her lab were in a room without windows. So she could have her hat and gloves off and function like a regular student.

  It was wonderful, and she practically skipped out of the class when it finished. “I’d like to find Hudson, if you don’t mind.”

  With a nod, they led her through the building, winding their way past offices and classrooms. None of it looked familiar to her, probably because she’d been unconscious the last time she was here, but eventually they came to a lab with a nameplate on the door. Professor Hudson Nors.

  Lifting her hand to knock, she caught Sylvain side-eying her. “What?”

  “You don’t need to knock,” he explained, and the door opened.

  “She doesn’t. But Briar has manners, and you do not.” Hudson smiled at her, a flash of white teeth. “Hello, Briar.”

  Suddenly shy, Briar’s face heated. “Hello, Hudson.”

  His hand was cool through her glove. He tugged her toward the inside of his space. She stared at it, taking in all the details she’d missed the last time she was here.

  “Ohh,” she breathed. “A Storm 860 Molecular Imager.” Nodding, she examined each piece of equipment. “Nice.”

  “Have you seen these before?" Hudson asked, and she shook her head.

  “No. Well, yes, in photos. I know what they are and what they do, but I haven’t used them before.”

  He smiled, the skin near his eyes crinkling. “Do you want to?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “What are you working on?”

  “I was using gel electrophoresis to separate DNA of individuals with EPP. Would you like to be one of my subjects?”

  It had pretty much been her dream to hear Hudson utter those words, and the surreality of hearing him say it wasn’t lost on her. “Yes, please.”

  Hudson nodded and walked over to a bench, pulling out cotton batting and handing it to Sylvain and Valen before shoving some up his nose. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ll need to draw your blood, and after last night, I think it’s better for all of us if we don’t smell it,” Hudson said.

  “Oh.” He was afraid he’d smell her blood and kill her. “The cotton will work?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “I treated it for this. You’re not the only human I have to draw blood from. Even if you’re the best smelling one.” He winked at her, and Briar laughed. She liked seeing this side of Hudson, the mix of silly and commanding. She got the sense he didn’t let this aspect of
his personality emerge much.

  Which made it all the more special.

  “Here.” Hudson gestured to a chair and Briar sat, shoving her sleeve over her elbow. Sylvain and Valen exchanged a glance and then sat as well, their eyes glued to the inner curve of Briar’s arm.

  “Will you be okay?” she asked them. “I don’t have to do this.” She turned to Hudson. “You don’t have to do this if you have other things to do.”

  Silent, he wrapped rubber tubing around her arm and pulled on gloves. “I’m not. I want to. You can use the equipment, and I’ll have another sample of DNA from a person with EPP. Win-win.”

  “Okay,” she answered quietly, still watching Sylvain and Valen, who hadn’t answered her question. “Guys?”

  “Fine,” Sylvain answered, and she giggled. The cotton had changed the resonance of his voice, leaving him to sound as if he had a bad cold. A second later, though, she stopped when Hudson slid the needle into her vein. The room went silent as he drew back the plunger, filling the tube with her blood.

  “There,” he said, and swept a pad over the insertion point before using cotton and tape to cover the wound. He glanced up at her, and she stared at him.

  The calmness in his voice belied his tension. The muscles along his jaw twitched as he ground his teeth together, and his skin was taut. His eyes, usually a bright blue, were dilated, the black pupils huge. “Give me a moment, and I’ll be fine.” Standing, he released a breath, and then brought the vial over to a small incubator. “I think I may have overestimated my control.”

  “Again,” Sylvain muttered.

  “Yes,” Hudson agreed. “Again. It seems to be a habit with you, Briar. You make me illogical.”

  “So we can start?” Briar rolled down her sleeve and approached the incubator. Visions of gel castors and ethidium bromide danced in front of her eyes.

  “I—” Hudson stared at the incubator. “I’m sorry, Briar. I need a little while. Perhaps if I expose myself to your blood without you here, I’ll have better control.”

  “Oh,” she answered, disappointed. “What about other people’s blood?”

  Hudson was silent.

  “Perhaps it’s better if we keep blood and Hudson separate for a while,” Valen suggested.

  “I think so.” Hudson’s shoulders slumped, and Briar frowned in sympathy.

  “Hey.” She took a step forward before stopping. “Is it safe if I approach you?” she asked.

  He nodded but didn’t turn toward her.

  “I’m going to touch you,” she warned him, and when he nodded, she grasped his shoulders. “It’s fine. We'll get there. I’m sure there are other things in the lab you could show me. Like…” She examined the room. “I see a computer. Do you have protein sequence analysis software?”

  He scoffed. “Do I have protein sequence analysis software?” Finally, he faced her and saw her grin. “You’re teasing me.”

  “I am,” she said, failing to keep her grin from widening. “I’m trying to distract you.”

  “Horrible,” he said, but smiled, a slow, soft smile that made her heart clench. “Do you want to see my most recent analysis of Chromosome 18?

  She nodded excitedly. Chromosome 18 was the site of the mutations that resulted in her condition. “Definitely.”

  “When's your last class, Briar?” Valen asked.

  “In an hour,” Briar answered. “It’s my art history class.”

  Hudson swiveled in the chair, pushed it across the lab, and typed his password onto the computer. Immediately, a magnified image of a chromosome appeared on the screen, and like a ghost, Briar floated toward it. “Don’t let me forget what time it is, Valen. The science is sucking me in.”

  Behind her, Valen chuckled. “You got it, little one.”

  The hour passed by in a blink as Hudson pointed out recessive and dominant patterns of inheritance in various samples. Briar was in heaven. It was everything she wanted to learn, and now she was hearing it from the leading expert in the field.

  She bounced on her toes and leaned forward, her hand on Hudson’s shoulder as she pointed out a spot of incomplete penetrance on the arm of the chromosome.

  Valen stepped to her side, and grinned down at her. “Briar, it’s time.”

  She blinked at him, piecing together what it was time to do. “Right!” she said. “Thank you.”

  “Will you come back after your class?” Hudson asked.

  “Yeah,” she answered and mashed her lips together to keep from grinning like a dope. “Yes.”

  “Great. I’ll see you here.”

  “Okay.” She scooped up her backpack from next to the stainless steel counter and put it on her back. Sylvain and Valen waited for her near the door like bouncers.

  Briar adjusted her backpack and held out her hands. “Ready?” she asked.

  They didn’t hesitate to take them. Sylvain opened the door, and they strode out. “Thank you,” she called over her shoulder, and then squeezed the guys’ hands. “You all are the best.”

  Chapter 23

  Hudson

  Hudson waited to approach the incubator until the door closed behind his brothers and Briar. There, the vial of Briar’s blood seemed to gleam, beckoning him.

  It tempted him, but he fought his instincts to upend the liquid into his mouth, and instead, gloves in place, he began the process of extracting her DNA from the sample.

  Each time his mind would focus on the fact that it was Briar’s blood in front of him, he pushed the thought away, burying it under the steps he needed to complete. The logical process distracted him, and soon, he was completely absorbed in the familiar task.

  He wanted to have Chromosome 18 displayed when she came back so he could show her the site of the mutation that resulted in her condition. But as he worked, digging deeper and deeper, unease gathered in the pit of his stomach.

  Something was wrong.

  There was the mutation on the long arm of Chromosome 18, but it was different. Not like any other mutation he’d seen with people who had EPP. It was close enough; he understood why a geneticist looking at this had thought EPP.

  But it wasn’t.

  Hudson pushed back his chair and rubbed his hands down his face. How was this possible?

  He thought back to everything he knew about Briar.

  Valen had seen her eat. Hudson had seen her wounded. She hadn’t healed in moments; her body was still recovering from her burns.

  Though, she did have much more energy than a person who was healing from a physical trauma generally experienced.

  Still. It was within the range of normal for human recovery.

  He dropped his hands and shoved his chair forward again, narrowing his eyes at the screen as if what he saw would have changed in the seconds since he’d pushed away.

  But it hadn’t.

  Impossible.

  A short, soft knock sounded on his door before it opened, and Marcus walked in. “What are you looking at?” He stood next to Hudson, hands shoved into his pockets as he leaned over. “Is that Valen's?”

  “No.”

  “It looks like Valen’s chromosome,” Marcus replied. Hudson glanced up at him, and Marcus pulled his eyebrows together. “What? Is it Sylvain?”

  “No, Marcus.” Hudson rolled away from the computer so Marcus could look more carefully. “It’s Briar’s.”

  “It can’t be.” If Hudson hadn’t been watching so closely, he’d have missed the tiny misstep Marcus made as he leaned closer. He gripped the edge of the table tightly and leaned forward. His gaze bounced along the screen, taking in each aspect of the magnified image. “How is this possible? I don’t understand.”

  “It’s the same marker we have, just a slightly smaller mutation. It’s why she has the diagnosis she does. But she doesn’t have erythropoietic protoporphyria, Marcus. She has vampirism.” If he hadn’t been the one making such a pronouncement, he’d never have believed it. But there it was, clear as day.

  If Hudson displayed images
of his chromosomes, or any of his brothers’, they would be identical. Only someone like Hudson, who knew what he was looking for, would be able to see the subtle difference that meant one of them would burn in sunlight and the others would catch fire.

  “But—” Marcus rubbed his hand across his short dark hair and strode away from the computer before coming back. He zoomed in on the chromosome, and finally, shook his head. “How the hell is this possible?”

  “The implication is that a vampire isn’t only something that can be created, it is also something that can be born.” Hudson fell back on the science, as if to remove himself from the emotions churning inside him. He’d lived thousands of years, and he’d never once seen anything to make him believe this was a possibility.

  “We don’t know if this is an inherited trait or a mutation,” Marcus whispered. “We can’t know unless we have samples of her family’s blood.”

  “We do.” Hudson remembered one of the first emails Briar had sent him, years ago. It compared her DNA to her family’s and had as a question on the subject line. “Why me?” He thought the email would contain a whining narrative, but instead, she’d gone into detail about recessive genes and mutations. “I drew her blood today to give her a chance to go through the process, use the equipment. But I wanted to surprise her with this image. She’d never had the chance before, though she did have this.” He searched his saved documents and brought up her email, then expanded the image she’d sent. Opening four separate windows, he gestured for Marcus to sit closer, then enhanced the images.

  Together, they examined her brother’s chromosomes. “There’s nothing there,” Marcus stated, finger tracing the image. “What about her father’s?”

  Hudson brought up the image, magnifying it closer and closer. “There.”

  “And her mother’s?”

  He did the same to hers. “There.”

  “Two recessives passed on to the daughter, not the son.” Marcus shook his head.

  “I know how gene inheritance works, Marcus,” Hudson snapped and then closed his mouth, teeth clicking together. He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Is this why she appeals to us all?” Hudson wondered aloud.