I really had been abandoned.
Trying to hide the hot tears creeping into my vision, I climbed off the mattress and started collecting the discarded items scattered across the floor, but froze at the sight of the white apparel box resting on top of my nightstand. With its red silk ribbons, it was indeed the same box Blaine had left before. The corner had a small dent in it, presumably from where I’d thrown it against his house.
Once again, there was a card tucked in the trimming. Since it seemed like fresh paper, I could only assume it was a new note. Part of me felt the temptation to open it, but I muzzled it down. Just having to look at that box made me only want to cry harder. All of this was his fault.
And he thought he could make amends for everything with a gift? Like I could be bought off.
Vibrations coursed up my arm and I immediately snatched up the box, chucking it under my bed before the runes could ignite. If I let them light up, who knows what they’d do? I turned my room to rubble when I was simply sleeping. I’d probably level the whole house if I wasn’t careful.
“Hey.” Reese came up behind me, placing gentle hands on my hips as I stood upright. I still couldn’t bring myself to look at him, not when I had tears blurring my vision. I didn’t want him to see me like this. I was a mess, inside and out. “They’ll come around,” he murmured.
It took me a moment to regain my thoughts, realizing he was talking about my parents. I shook my head, feeling wet streaks stream down my face. Blaine had been right about them from the very beginning. Before my parents discovered what had happened to me, Blaine said that they’d desert me, first chance they got. And they did.
If my friends saw me for what I was, they’d leave too. So would my aunt. To Raelynd and Blaine, I was nothing more than a plaything. To the world, I was an abomination, something that needed to be put out of its misery. Mr. Reynolds, the man who had been more of a father to me than my actual dad, had sent a thug out to exterminate me. And that was without the knowledge that Blaine had already bitten me.
Reese took hold of my arms, urging me to turn around. When I wouldn’t, he stepped in front of me, forcing me to look him in the eyes. Of all things, the tears had dissolved into bitterness, to anger. My skin vibrated again, but it was from a different rune. Wrath.
If Blaine wanted me to fight back, then fine. He would get exactly what he hoped for. My hit list had just been forged, and Mr. Blaine Ryder had the distinguished honor of top billing.
Reese helped me tidy up my room before taking me back over to the bed. We didn’t say anything as we lay side by side. With my back to him, he pulled me against his body, wrapping his arms around my tiny frame. I shivered at the gentle caress as his thumb stroked up and down the length of my forearm. The touch sent electricity crackling over the skin, leaving little sparks to dance between my flesh and his fingertip.
I couldn’t help but giggle at the tickling sensation, and it seemed to have the desired effect Reese had been hoping for. I sighed, feeling the humming Wrath rune still threatening to ignite suddenly peter out.
“It appears I’ve got the magic touch,” he chuckled, planting a kiss to the back of my neck.
I traced the tattooed sigils running along the length of Reese’s forearm. “It appears you do. And it must be nice, having control of it.” As a Light Mage, all it took was simple concentration to ignite or disarm his runes. Being angry or upset or too happy didn’t risk things blowing up or going haywire. Yet, here I was, the five-foot-three demonic Hulk.
“You’ll learn how to harness your magic,” he assured, rolling me over to face him. “Don’t let him get under your skin. It’s what he wants.”
“He’s already under my skin, and on it.” I leered at the tattoos sullying my arm, at the band on my ring finger. It gleamed in the light with its permanent metallic ink, mocking me as an everlasting reminder that I now ‘belonged’ to the one person I hated most.
Reese took hold of my arm, pulling it up to his lips. “How about you let someone else on it?”
Soft kisses pressed to each of the brands, triggering goose bumps across my skin as the cool electricity stirred with the heat of his breath. His mouth trailed further up my arm, to my shoulder, when I suddenly found him laying over me. All the pain and hurt and self-loathing flitted away, bit by bit, with every kiss.
The world around us dissolved to nothing more than static. Our mouths met one another’s, only to find their way to someplace else. Our shoulders, our necks… I was sure to end up with a hickey, and the thought only excited me more. I’d be branded, all right. By whom I chose.
A sweet, sugary scent prickled at my nose, and Reese’s lips impulsively traveled to the one place I dreaded most. The right side of my neck.
It was too much.
Nausea, revulsion, fear. It all hit me so hard, so fast, I couldn’t control my own instincts. Red filled my vision as my gums ripped apart to accommodate the elongated pearly white incisors. All my instincts could see was a threat. My hands suddenly gripped Reese’s neck, and his pulse thrummed in my ears. I could see the artery throbbing beside his windpipe.
He stiffened at the realization of what he’d done, feeling my body go taut beneath him. Reese shifted his head, despite my firm grip still held around his nape. My jaw suddenly snapped up at him, begging to tear into his neck.
“Shit!” He barely managed to pull free as he scrambled upright, nearly falling off the end of the bed. I hadn’t actually managed to bite him, but his hands still mindlessly grappled at his throat in blind panic.
The terror in his eyes as he beheld me…
Mortification and disgust riddled every inch of my body. I… I was beyond repulsive; I was a monster.
I covered my mouth and lunged for the door, desperate to get as far away from him as possible.
“Kat?” Blaine’s voice whispered to my thoughts, and I screamed, clawing my hands over my ears as if it could somehow drown him out. It only made the rest of the world go quiet, leaving the reverberating echoes of his voice to carry into the corners of my mind.
I heard my name being called again, but it was out loud.
Reese.
I could hear his pleas, the desperation in his words as he tried racing after me down the stairs, begging me to come back.
I couldn’t. I snatched my purse off the floor where I had blindly tossed it, and I darted through the kitchen to the garage. Reese caught up to me, but it was too late. I had already locked the doors behind me after jumping into my car. His palms hit the window, begging me to look at him.
“Stay away from me.” I had practically mouthed the words as I choked on them, but he’d heard them all the same.
His shoulders slumped, his face consumed in hurt, desperation, disbelief. “Don’t do this…”
Blinking away the tears, I floored the car backward, barreling it down the driveway. Reese’s truck was still parked out front, blocking me in, but I didn’t stop. I swerved the steering wheel and drove my hatchback over the lawn until I was in the clear.
“Kat, what happened?” Blaine’s voice demanded inside my head.
My fingers practically pummeled in the buttons as I slammed my hand into the radio. Finding the loudest song possible, I twisted the volume dial up until I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts as I floored it down the street.
What had I done?
What had I done?
What had I done?
Chapter 12
Dangerous Woman
Driving on instinct alone, I eventually found myself pulling into the gravel parking lot of a familiar inky blue farm house. Knocking back another shot of tequila, I reveled in the warm, tingling buzz. I could feel the anxiety and humiliation slipping away. A couple more shots, and I probably wouldn’t have cared even if someone came up and punched me in the face. And nothing was going to stop me from achieving that level of blissful intoxication.
“Of all the gin joints in the world.”
I out-and-out whimpered, thumping my head
on the counter. “Can’t a girl get a moment’s peace?”
“Oh, I think you’ve had more than a moment. Or, at least I hope you have, judging by your rising alcohol level,” laughed Val, picking up my empty shot glass as he took the vacant seat beside me at the bar. “What number you on?”
I held up my hand.
“Three?”
I scrunched up my nose, taking inventory of my fingers. “Oops.” I flicked up another.
The ruffian chuckled. “You drink often?”
“Never,” I grumbled, folding my arms on the bar so I could rest my head on them for comfort. “What’re you even doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be out with your brother wreaking havoc and destruction on mankind?”
“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?” he teased.
I simpered.
“Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad.”
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t nearly rip out your almost-boyfriend’s throat during a make-out session—with these stupid things.” I ran my tongue over my teeth, feeling my fangs still jutted out. The moment I entered the Hideaway, they sprang free and refused to retract. And at this point, I didn’t mind. Between my runes and my bite, the male patrons here had the commonsense to leave me alone. One look at the tattooed band on my ring finger, they knew I was taken. And my fangs drove the message home, for those who weren’t yet dissuaded. Except for Val.
“So, you almost tore out my brother’s windpipe, aye?” The Mage nodded, almost appreciatively.
I cringed, apparently giving him an “Ewww” face at the very thought. As if I’d make out with that cretin…again.
Val smirked. “Ah-ha, the plot thickens.”
Crap.
My blood alcohol level had apparently thrown out my mental filter, along with my poker face. “N-no, it doesn’t,” I clumsily countered.
“Don’t be coy.” He gave my arm a playful nudge, running a finger over my mating rune. “We’re practically sibling-in-laws.”
And on that note, I signaled to the bartender for another shot. “Don’t make me vomit.”
“Let me guess.” The Mage stroked his chin in mock deliberation. “The magician?”
“No,” I blurted.
Gee, nice one, Kat.
That was about as smooth as sandpaper to the face…
It only made Val’s smile grow. “What? Having your ‘one true mate’ isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”
“Mate.” I scoffed at the word. “What the hell does that even mean? What am I supposed to do as his ‘mate’?”
He shrugged. “The usual, I guess. Keep his bed warm, punch out a few of his pups—”
Now, I literally could feel bile rising in my throat. “Ugh! Hell no!”
“To what part? You have to give him at least one heir. That’s kind of what our boss is counting on.” The bartender slid a shot glass my way, but Val knocked it back before I could so much as reach for it. He coughed on the burn as the ethanol made its way down his throat. Served him right. “How else do you think family legacies stay alive?”
“Aren’t you the eldest brother?”
“That I am.”
“Then by logic, shouldn’t you be the first in line to Blaine’s title? How did he get it? Is it like some kind of contest? Only the sexiest brother can be the Prince of Lust,” I mocked.
Val’s smile only widened. “Are you saying I’m not sexy enough?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, you’re a total eyesore.”
“Ah, okay, so I am sexy. I’m just not as much as my brother.”
“Precisely.” The word slipped out before my brain seemed to process the thought, and I immediately reddened.
He laughed. “Ooooh, you really are in a tough place, aren’t you. You hate his guts, and yet you still find him attractive. You naughty little minx.”
“That is not what I meant.” I tried shoving him, but it ended up being more of a nudge as I swiveled on the bar stool.
“Oh, come on. There’s no shame in admitting it.” He turned in his seat to face me directly as I snorted at the idea. “You met him before you found out about…what he was, right?”
“You mean…?” I held up a finger on each side of my head to imitate horns as I gave an animated hiss.
Val doubled over in his seat, sharing in my drunken mirth. “Well, if you’re going to put it that way, yes.”
“Yeah, we kind of became friends, actually.”
“And are you really gonna tell me you weren’t even the teeny, tiniest bit attracted to him?”
I grumbled, unable to find the will to deny it.
“What was your first impression of him?”
Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but something about those soft charcoal eyes had my defenses down. “I thought… I thought he was one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever seen,” I admitted. “So, of course, he’d have to be a raving, demonic lunatic.” I blew away the loose strand of hair that toppled over my face. “My taste in guys sucks.”
To my surprise, the Mage’s smile seemed genuine. “You having any fantasies about him yet?” I could only imagine the look on my face, because his smile was all fox. “I may not have marked a mate of my own, but I’ve heard all about how it works with our kind.”
“The only fantasies I want are ones where I get to murder him,” I grumbled.
“Well, well, well. Now we’re getting somewhere.” He was practically giddy, downing what was left in his own Scotch glass. “What did you have in mind?”
“Wood chipper. Or steamroller, perhaps. Maybe full-on Wicker Man. Death by a thousand bees, Nicolas-Cage-style.” My eyes brightened at the very idea.
“My, my. Aren’t we wicked? You may not want to admit it, but you are just who my brother needs.”
“I am not! I’m a good person—”
“‘Good’ people don’t fantasize about murder.”
“Well, blame Blaine.” I giggled at the tongue twister. Try saying that five times fast. “He’s the one who went all Dracula on me,” I said, absentmindedly rubbing the faded fang marks on my neck. “I didn’t choose to turn to the dark side.”
“Perhaps not, but we’re infinitely more fun than the folks upstairs,” he said, pointing to the ceiling.
“There’s a second floor here?” I slurred, looking up drunkenly at the rafters overhead.
“Yeeeeah, you definitely don’t need any more of this,” Val chuckled, snatching away my next shot glass.
“Yes, I do.” I practically tackled him into the bar as I tried to wrestle the drink from his hands. With his height, he managed to hold it up well out of my reach the moment he rose to his feet. If he wanted to play games, then who was I to put a damper on his plans? I leaned into him, stroking a finger up his chest until I flicked it beneath his chin. “What do you want for it?” I purred.
Val beamed down at me, fascinated. “Like mother, like daughter, I see.”
“Meaning?”
“It’s only natural that you’d use your sexual prowess, being the offspring of a succubus,” he crooned.
My mother? A succubus? I’d never heard of it before, but it didn’t sound pleasant.
“The Prince of Lust and a daughter of seduction. No wonder my brother’s so infatuated. It’s kismet.”
Any playfulness I had petered out at the mention. “Don’t say that.”
“He’s a very lucky man.” An unspoken softness met his gaze, depleting his smirk of its intended infliction. It was the first honest face I’d seen in so long from someone who knew the truth about me. Blaine had an assortment of masks he chose to hide behind, never hinting to which one alluded to the real him. And even Reese, despite his best intentions, had been lying these past two months. To himself. He was so determined to prove I hadn’t turned into a monster, to prove that he could save me from myself, only to show his true colors the moment he saw me for what I could become. I had horrified Reese back there. And I couldn’t blame him. He shouldn’t ever feel guilty for fearing me. He had every right. All I wa
nted for him was to be happy, and safe. Two things I couldn’t promise him anymore.
But Val? I could have cared less about his safety or his feelings, and he’d just told me more than Blaine and Raelynd combined.
“Why aren’t you the Crown Prince?” I asked softly, leaning closer into him.
“I’m damaged goods, Doll Face.”
“Aren’t we all?”
He raised his arm, letting the fabric of his jacket ride up enough to flash me some skin. His runes… Two separate designs covered his flesh just above the wrist, but unlike the sigil on top of his hand, the ink wasn’t black. It was silver, the flawless metallic shimmer almost ethereal, with the exception of the ghastly lines sliced down the middle of each symbol. Scars. They weren’t large, but for some reason I shuddered just having to look at them. The skin was a sickly purple and raised, like it had been seared opened.
I didn’t know what else to do but gawk.
The healing process for Mages was freakishly fast. Injuries that would take regular humans days, if not weeks, to heal from took us mere hours. And even after all the hits I’d taken, I still didn’t have one scar to prove it, save for the fang marks. Our power was that effective. So what could have done that to his skin? How come it hadn’t healed?
“Dance with me.” Val didn’t wait for me to answer as he directed me through the crowds to the dance floor, and I wasn’t about to object. A million questions raced through my head, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him. My happy helping of tequila had made my mouth looser than a wizard’s sleeves. I didn’t want to take the risk of sounding too eager to learn what happened. Not until I could bring a better poker face to the table.
Despite the 1920’s esthetic, the Hideaway wasn’t playing the same jazz melodies they had the other night. Contemporary R&B filled the room under the warm glow of red mood lights. A mid tempo slow-jam began, only adding to the sensual atmosphere. With my hand in his, Val whirled me around in a tango-esque fashion, securing me in his arms as I spun into him.
Covetous: An Urban Fantasy Romance (The Marked Mage Chronicles, Book 2) Page 13