He raised an eyebrow, looking at me skeptically. “I’m supposed to explain away werewolves that you saw turn? If I were going to do that, I’d probably tell you that you were on drugs, hallucinogens that made you see things that weren’t there. You can’t handle this? I guess I won’t tell you that your brother has succeeded in making Butcher Boy and spent all last night with my other Boys killing monsters in North City. I’m proud of him. It took him years to change, for his DNA to split making him the monster killing machine that Butchers are, and it’s all to your credit, for you’re the one who baked for him, giving him the strength he needed.”
I shook my head and swallowed with difficulty. “My brother’s been at Calder. I’m here visiting him for the night.”
He sighed and closed his eyes, lacing his fingers behind his head. “That explains why the beautiful Violetta came to my room with Jello instead of her brother, Sebastian. How long will you be visiting?”
His voice was carefully neutral, empty of fear, anger, irritation, anything other than indifference.
I threw a pillow at his head as hard as I could. A knife materialized as if from nowhere and he skewered the pillow mid-flight. An explosion of feathers flew into the air. I stared at him through the swirling feathers, his eyes hard, dangerous, glittering with that energy that I had felt rushing through me, feeding me, giving me strength that I so desperately needed after my exhausting, bewildering, horrific night.
I pressed my hands against my mouth and took a deep shuddering breath.
“Why did werewolves attack me?” I finally whispered, studying his face.
He lifted his hand, catching feathers as though they were the only interesting thing. “It’s the beginning of the days of darkness. Werewolves turn on All Hallow’s Eve through Twelfth Night if they’ve been infected. We don’t know why they were here, in Calder which should be impregnable. I, we, the Butchers were gone, pushing back the monsters in North City when someone broke in, someone who knew our weakness. They released a fresh werewolf that infected over a dozen boys last night.” His voice continued calm, steady, as though things like werewolves were as normal and as terrifying as making toast. “If it weren’t for your biscuits, we would have lost them. Those biscuits brought them back, cured them from something that’s supposed to be incurable. You could be the greatest Baker of your time.”
I stared at him, clutching the blanket in my fist. Werewolves? Those dogs had been actual werewolves? “And the Jello?”
He wrinkled his nose. “I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have gotten poisoned. It was clumsy of me. I’ll have to have blood tests done to see if we can analyze the toxins.”
I gasped. “Poisoned. You were poisoned, but the Jello cured you?”
He nodded like this made perfect sense. “Thank you.” He leaned forward again, his smile sweet. “You saved my life. You used your mother’s herb, Everlast, didn’t you? That is incredibly potent.”
I shook, my whole body trembling so hard that I could barely speak. “Who poisoned you? Who let werewolves into Calder? How was I supposed to save you? It’s preposterous. I mean, you would be dead if I hadn’t made you Jello? It’s impossible. I mean, if what you’re saying is true, ignoring all logical fallacies, how could I know what you needed, that I’d pick Jello instead of cream puffs? I should have taken you to the hospital, but all I could think about was biscuits and Jello. I couldn’t control myself. How can that be okay? How can irrational behavior somehow make more sense than calling an ambulance?”
“It’s what you are,” he said, his voice gentle, so soft and careful, like he didn’t want to frighten me.
“It’s not what I am!” I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “It’s not what I am,” I repeated less loudly, but my hand ached from holding onto the blanket so tightly. “You’re telling me that I take your energy, that’s why I like touching you, because I need your strength which I then use to make magic Jello?”
He smiled slightly. “You like touching me?”
I scowled at him. “Answer the question, pretty boy.”
His smile widened. “You think I’m pretty?”
“Orion, this is not the time. Someone in this school let in werewolves. Why are you sitting here talking to me? Are you crazy? You can’t tell me that there are werewolves that I cured with my biscuits and then…” I sputtered and wished he had another pillow to throw at his stupid grinning face.
He moved fast, his body against mine, knocking me down onto the bed while he hovered over me, filling up the space with that energy spinning inside of him, so much life in him. I craved his skin, his touch.
His voice was a low murmur that resonated in my skin. “Take my energy, then we’ll go to the C.M. and he can explain things to you.”
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the beautiful boy on top of me who wanted me to touch him, to suck the life out of him like I wanted to do, like I craved. “Does it hurt you?”
He laughed and I opened my eyes. He traced his fingers over my face before he pulled away and unbuttoned his shirt, fingers racing. “For me it’s almost as delicious as eating your cream puffs. It doesn’t hurt me. I want you to touch me as I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw Toby chasing you. Please, Violetta, take my energy before I take off the rest of my clothes.”
I couldn’t help glancing down at his pants. His stomach, his body was bare-naked skin that called out to me. I brushed one hand down his stomach to his belt before I reached up with the other hand and pulled him back down on me. I kissed his chin, freshly shaved skin silky and delicious. “Who is the C.M.” I murmured before I slid my lips along his jaw, tasting him, tasting him but also drawing in that energy that swirled through me, energy he seemed to have an unlimited supply of, that he wanted me to take. Nothing else seemed to matter other than his skin, his body above me.
“The C.M.?” His word was more of a gasp as he relaxed more of his weight against me, one leg draped over mine. He felt so good. I slid my hands around his neck, his hair silk against my palms, his scalp warm beneath my fingers. His body shifted against mine, his chest hard against my curves then I felt his hand on my waist, sliding beneath my top, over my ribs, his hands trailing fire, life, energy over my bare skin.
I gasped, and pulled his head down to kiss his mouth, to taste his lips, to drown in him, all of him, his body pressing me down, his life flowing through me as he gave and I took until I felt like I was swimming in light and aching happiness. His hand kept moving over my skin, but it didn’t feel quite the same, slower, relaxed, less desperate.
I turned my head, breaking away from his lips while I inhaled, feeling a world of sensation inside my chest that I couldn’t understand, could barely comprehend. “I was attacked by werewolves?”
He groaned and shifted against me, his lips falling on my jaw, down to my neck, sliding over skin that burned at his touch, but not from his energy, just from him. I didn’t need his energy, but I still needed him.
I closed my eyes while I fought the current that threatened to carry me away. His mouth moved lower, his body sliding against mine, bringing parts of my body to life that I’d never been introduced to before. His lips were on my shoulder, lower, down my chest to the edge of my camisole before he inhaled and raised up, staring at me with an odd expression on his face before he fished a crumb out of his mouth. He stared at that bit of bread and then smiled at me, biting his soft, supple mouth with his white teeth.
“If that turned werewolves human, I don’t think we should find out what it would do to me. It was a clever place to put them to keep out-of-control mouths in check.”
I ran my hand over my chest above my camisole, my shoulder, neck where he’d been kissing me. “I really like out-of-control mouths.”
He closed his eyes for a moment before he exhaled slowly, his breath sending goose bumps over my skin. “The C.M. is over all the Butchers in this district. I report to him.”
I licked my lips while I tugged lightly on his hair. “A
re you going to report that you tried to eat biscuits out of my shirt?”
He half laughed, half groaned as he slid his hand down my side, over my shorts to my bare thigh. “Only if you want me to. Since your brother was publicly fighting zombies and ghouls while you were here curing werewolves, and me of course, you’ll have to explain that part.”
I frowned at him as I slid my hand over his stomach above his belt, trying not to notice what my hand was doing or the way his stomach rippled beneath my fingers in reaction to my touch. “I’ve never made out in a boy’s dorm before. It’s almost as good as in public. How am I supposed to explain something that I don’t come close to understanding? If I really think about it, I’m pretty sure that I’ll throw up.”
He slid his hand up my leg, brushing up the hem of my shorts before he gripped my hip. “Violetta, how am I supposed to stop touching you? I need someone to knock on the door, or the phone to ring.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I could call you, but I left my phone in my room. I guess someone will have to knock. What about the guy from last night, Brent? He’s probably worried about you.”
He shook his head, a decisive no. “No one is going to knock on my door. I have four people guarding it.”
I blinked at him. “You have four people guarding your door?”
He nodded, his face serious as he leaned towards me, brushing my face with his fingers. A shock of energy rushed through me at that one touch, energy and desire. “Two outside the window.”
I stiffened up as I looked around the room, noticing that it wasn’t as neat as usual what with the globs of Jello and biscuit crumbs on the floor. I was in Orion’s room and six people were guarding us. I looked at the window, at the sun streaming through it. “But, why? Are more werewolves coming?”
He caught my hand, his hand like sun, shining around mine, filling me with warmth and calm. “No. I don’t want to be disturbed. After pushing back the darkness I still had too much energy from the Jello. I would have hurt anyone who came in, however good their intentions. I needed to be with you, alone, until you took what you needed, until you kissed me and gave me a chance to explain about the werewolves.” He frowned at me, his eyes serious, chocolate deliciousness that I wanted to drink up. “I needed you. I still need you. I have no idea how I’m supposed to do anything besides hold you in my arms for the rest of my life.”
I took a deep breath and slid off the bed to my feet. He groaned and I glanced over, watching him follow me off the bed before he stood, his shirt open, a stretch of perfect skin interrupted by a few fascinating scars that I wanted to touch, to trace, to taste.
“Can I have some chocolate?”
“I thought that I was your chocolate. You told me that after you fell into the Pond of Purity.”
I shifted and smoothed down my shorts, trying not to gaze at him. “I’m not sure how to drink your eyes. Until I figure it out, I could really use something delicious in my mouth that wasn’t you.”
He took a step towards me and I swayed, wanting so much to feel him against me, his lips against mine. His hands came around my waist and he lowered his head, slowly, slowly until he brushed my mouth with his. He pulled away and turned, leaving me reeling, heart pounding hands unsteady.
“Self-sacrifice, self-control, self-denial.” His voice started out low, slow as he put a pot on the electric coil. “Maybe if I say that often enough, I’ll somehow be able to not hold you.” He glanced over at me with a smoldering smile that made my breath catch. “Let’s talk about your brother. He’s always been one of the most frustrating people I know. Over the last few months he’s been out hunting werewolves with a handful of renegade Butchers who aren’t content with me as their Butcher. They want all the werewolves ruthlessly executed whether they’re a danger or not.” He brushed the back of my hand before he grabbed a towel and knelt to mop up the mess on the floor. “It took me a week to realize that you weren’t him. I should have known right away because the moment I saw you, I had to hold you. I’ve never been tempted to give Sebastian anything other than a punch in the face.”
I wrinkled my nose and smoothed my hands over my shirt. I couldn’t seem to stop moving my hands. I wanted to touch him so badly. Why wasn’t I touching him? Something about drowning in him and that being a bad idea, also that I was in a dorm room with him with guys outside who knew I was here. Awkward. “He’s not the easiest person, but honestly, neither am I. You knew that I wasn’t my brother that whole time? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He got out two mugs, scooped chocolate into them and turned to me. “I’ve known ever since the cream puffs. They were incredible. I still dream about them sometimes.” He stepped towards me, his movement slow, but inevitable, like falling. His hands met mine, pulled them against his stomach, encasing my hands as they slid up to his chest, the strength of him, the life of him spreading through me like molten chocolate.
“That was a long time ago. You threw a knife at my head.” I took a half step towards him and rested my cheek on his bare chest. “What did the cream puffs do to you? I mean, if my cooking turns people into werewolves…”
He laughed, this incredible sound that I could feel in my bones. “Cures people, not turns them into werewolves. Let me think, what did the creampuffs do? I’d just discovered your brother that night, felt betrayed that the bond we shared had been an illusion. I was quite irritated until I realized what you were, who you were, and that you baked for me. The creampuffs felt like pure energy, clarity, peace and home.”
I took a deep breath. I’d been joking about the cream puffs doing something. “The bond we shared?”
He nodded, his long dark hair kissing my shoulders. “The bond between Butcher and Baker is very powerful.”
I felt so dizzy as I stood there, soaking in this crazy energy that wasn’t just in my head. All the times I’d touched him, felt so much better, had that really been a simple energy exchange? What about the kisses? Had that meant anything to him other than an energy exchange? What kind of relationship was he talking about, exactly? If my brother was a Butcher…
I gasped as I remembered my dad, the one with good blood who my brother tried so hard to emulate, the way he’d have me rub his shoulders when I felt stressed out, tired, exhausted, and every time felt so much better afterwards, because of the energy, his energy he’d given me. It hadn’t been enough, though, not when I was cooking for Sebastian so much, when he was finally getting better, but I wasn’t allowed to take energy from Sebastian. My mother had gotten so angry that time she’d found me curled up beside him on his bed, my hand on his chest.
She’d sent me to my dad who had given me a nice long hug. I couldn’t take energy from Sebastian, only from my father. But it hadn’t been enough. I hadn’t felt like I had enough until this boy, my chocolate man had started touching me, barely a brush of his fingers that filled me more than hours trying to absorb energy from my father.
“Wait!”
Orion froze, his hands sliding around my back. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “Why didn’t anyone tell me about this? My mother, did she know? She was always baking, cooking for my dad, keeping him strong so that he could feed us energy, her and me, but she wasn’t a Baker. She hated being called a Baker. She was a Botanist.”
He pulled away to stare into my eyes. I drowned in chocolate, in his arms and suddenly it didn’t matter quite as much. “I don’t know much about your mother, but Tancetta has Butcher lines, and your mother had the Baker talent even if she didn’t use it officially. She must have trained you as a Baker without you realizing it.”
I closed my eyes and slid my hands down his chest to his stomach then around his back, to pull him against me. I felt hot and cold and weird, but strangely fine. It was probably from all the energy he’d given me. I wasn’t exhausted, wasn’t desperate like I’d been for so many months, baking, baking, baking for Sebastian when he gave me so little, until Orion finally started filling my depleted reserves. It made so much sens
e, but at the same time, none at all.
“What’s going to happen now?”
He slid his hand up my back to the base of my skull, his voice a warm breath against my ear. “What do you want? If you’d like to stay at Calder as your brother, it can be arranged. If you’d like to go to Baker’s school, although you’re a little old for that, I’ll see that you are in the best place possible. If you’d like to intern with Landry, I know that he’d like that. He offered the first time I brought you to Candlestick. If you want to go to college, there is an education fund for Butchers and arrangements can be made. You don’t understand yet, but you saved us. You have my gratitude, and that of the entire district as well. Over a dozen parents didn’t lose their sons because you were brave and had faith in yourself, in your instincts. You faced the darkness and the wolves to save the lives of others, not to mention me. If I gave you everything I had, did everything in my power, it would not be enough. I owe you so much. What do you want?”
I inhaled and wrapped my arms around his waist so tight, trying to breathe evenly, to not break down and start crying. “You can start with chocolate, and then, I’d like to have my clothes back. That should do it for now. Do you really think it’s possible for me to still be my brother in school when everyone has seen how tall he is when I’m not?”
He pulled away and brushed my cheek, my ear. “A lot of people would know, and I’m not sure how comfortable you’d be with having smelly boys hitting on you constantly, but yes, of course you can stay at Calder if you wish.” He cleared his throat. “I’d personally struggle to treat you with the distance that respect requires knowing that you know that I know that you are a beautiful, delicious, sweet, tantalizing female who makes the most sublime cream puffs, almost as decadent and mouth-watering as your skin.” I felt the brush of his lips against my shoulder and gasped. “I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t take advantage of you. Maybe your brother could be your chaperone. He wouldn’t hesitate to break my face if I tried to kiss you.”
Butcher, Baker, Vampire Slayer: A Retelling of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night Page 29