Page 63
Shrugging, Dezi steps back so I can take myself in. “It is easy to be inspired with you around. Perhaps I shall compose poems to recite about your incandescence anyway.”
I turn from the mirror, pull the robe tighter, and march back into the suite as I ignore his bullshit. When he comes out muttering rhymes, I whirl around and point a finger at him threateningly. “I will gut you like a pig and then wait for it to heal before I do it again.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, witchling. Vampires enjoy pain, even that which would seem not pleasurable to normal supes.” His smirk is infuriating as I stomp my foot and blink, when it leaves a small spider crack in the stone.
“Oh, fuck,” I mutter as I stare at the floor. “I’m gonna suck at this shit until I figure out control. Damn it.”
“The others will help,” he says as he grins at me. “We all went through the learning phase of our various abilities as supernaturals. It will be okay.”
I nod, sighing as I drop onto the side of the bed again. “You promise? Because I’m fairly certain that you’re going to get hurt while I’m learning. It’s pretty much a given.”
“Even then, my blood song.” He rummages through the armoire and finds his own blood red robe, sliding it on before he joins me. “You know what has to happen next, though, right?”
I look down at my hands, at the blue fire under my skin, and smile. “I’m done hiding. We hit the throne room next and show those motherfuckers who I really am.”
He kisses my forehead, gentle and lingering. “Exactly.”
As soon as the guys get here, it’s time to regain control of our Midnight experience the hard way.
* My blood song
Thirty-One
REVELIN
Idon’t knock, because that’s for people who are worried about what the folks on the other side of the door will think.
The door to our suite swings open as if it’s been expecting a disaster, the wood bouncing twice off the wall before Tiernan grabs it. Midnight’s castle was built to withstand centuries of Fae temper tantrums and probably a hundred wars, so a little property damage barely rates on the scale, I’m sure. We stagger in to see the tossed room, and it’s instant chaos as we see what happened while we waited for those two to work out their bitey horniness. Despite the healing headache and my split lip, I feel a surge of pride for our grumpy pair because nothing says ‘bonded’ like blood all over the carpet and furniture cracked in half.
Khol breaks first, which tracks. He’s snickering as he shoulders through the doorway with a big tray balanced in his arms. His careful gait as he laughs would be hilarious if it weren’t for the scowl on Sassy’s face as she glares at us. Khol grins at the carnage inside the room as he arches his brow at the wrecked bed, and the vampire rolls his eyes back at him.
“Told you the suite would be wrecked,” he crows to Tiernan. “You owe me, furball. Look at this mess; I know someone tried to clean it up by the distribution, so it was worse before. We’re going to have to request a new fucking bed, too, so you can’t welch.”
The snow leopard steps into the main room, surveying the destruction, and grunts. His injured arm is in a sling now, a piece of navy blue fabric that we swiped from the buffet area, and the other is flexed as the basilisk is right. Gaze shooting to the bloodstain on the wall, he sighs when he sees it tracked across the floor. Tier is registering every smashed object and scattered piece of furniture with an expression of resignation, now that he can see it clearly.
“I stand corrected,” Tiernan says with a growl. “Also, why the hell did you guys break the one piece of furniture we will need? That feels poorly planned for someone as cautious as the mosquito.”
“My apologies, feline. I couldn’t help myself,” Dezi drawls sarcastically. His robe is hanging loosely on his frame, and his hair is wet. Pale skin nearly glows with the post-frenzy shine of fresh feeding, which at least tells me he’s ready to face the fuckers we have to deal with. Fiadh walks over, letting him pull her close against his side in an oddly compliant fashion. Her head nestles against his shoulder, while her hand trails over his chest in slow, lazy circles.
“Me, too, but man, I couldn’t be happier that you guys brought food. I’m hungry enough to eat a fucking hippo,” our mate says as she smiles at us.
“Your wish is always my command, Sassypants,” I reply with a grin. “I’m not a djinn, but I love making your eyes do what they just did.”
The basilisk sets the tray down on the coffee table and then wipes his hands on his jeans. He cocks his head, scanning Fiadh for signs of life. She looks as if she’s come through a nuclear event and emerged as a minor Fae deity. Her formerly porcelain skin is shot through with blue and white glyphs; swirls dance in her eyes, and her fangy grin is wild enough to make a banshee weep.
I fucking love this version of her, and it’s not just because she looks more like my species—it’s because it brings out the spark in her I knew was there all along.
“Holy shit, Knuckles,” Khol says. “You definitely look like the queen of a murderous Fae court now. It’s hot AF and we don’t have time for us all to show you how much. I’m jealous as hell of the fang-face right now.”
Fiadh just gives him the finger, but it’s clear she’s amused. Popping a grape from the tray into her mouth with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, she replies, “We most certainly do not, but I appreciate you trying to make me more at ease with this big-ass change, babe.”
I’m too tired for a crisis of self, so I just send a little trail of magic from my fingertips to brush over her face fondly. My ribs ache, and I’ve been pretending to be fine since the tree to make sure I could take care of the other two. Neither would have let me heal them if they’d thought I was hurt, but I know my mate would freak out if they came back looking as rough as we did downstairs. So now, I’m going to drop into one of the chairs and get my body to knit itself while they chat—quietly.
“You’re a vision,” I say as I finally sit down and close my eyes gratefully. “Every Fae child in the world would kill for an ‘After’ photo that looks like you. And you’re welcome for the food, though I’ll admit we needed it, too.”
When I open my eyes again, I see Tier shrug out of his ripped jacket and toss it onto the floor; the movement is neat and efficient despite his sling. He stalks over to the tray, grabs a handful of the meat on a stick, and snarfs it down with feral concentration. Khol is two steps behind him, shoving a fistful of food into his mouth before using the sideboard to pop the cap on a bottle of mineral water. The vampire watches the mayhem, his expression somewhere between fond and predatory before he stands up to get our girl her sustenance.
I’m not surprised that he’s still in protector-mode after whatever happened in this room.
