by Alex Lidell
He takes out a knife and starts sharpening his number two pencil with it, the efficient swish, swish, swish of steel on wood silencing the already subdued room.
Hell, if trig fails him, Ellis will have a spear for small game.
The door opens, and Asher strides into the classroom together with one of the mathematics instructors to begin distributing the booklets. The commander is as put together as always, his golden hair and tawny eyes complementing tanned skin. Even when doing something as simple as handing out paper, he moves with a predator’s grace, the muscles beneath his blue collared shirt shifting subtly. When he places my booklet down in front of me, his earthy sandalwood scent makes my lungs tingle.
Swallowing, I focus on my exam booklet. Light blue with a little sticker to declare it a virgin. Most schools have moved on to computer testing by now, but we’re all sitting here with sharpened number two pencils and Scantron sheets, ready to fill in bubbles. Two rows in front of me, Mika is staring at her low-tech supplies with righteous indignation, but fortunately decides against voicing her thoughts aloud.
Asher delivers the basic warning about cheating with a quiet menace that puts the fear of hell into everyone in the room, starts the timer, and leaves. Thanking whatever deity that cares that I have one less distraction, I open my booklet and begin tormenting ratios.
And I don’t look up again until there is a shuffle at the door, a new proctor walking in to patrol the rows.
Reese.
My heart stutters, the pencil lead breaking against my desk as I stare at his perfect, closed-off face. In place of his usual clothes, the vampire is wearing desert-colored military fatigues with rolled-up sleeves and a tan shirt underneath, all streaked with dirt and dried blood. Just like his tan combat boots. His unruly hair is pulled away from his face, the tattoos on his arm wrapping the biceps in barbed wire. Wherever the male was, he’s only just come back. And he came here first.
I stare at him over the bent heads of all the students, my heart pounding against my ribs.
He scans, trains his blue eyes on me, and walks down the rows toward me, every step of that perfect powerful body as lithe as a panther. Confident and powerful and panty-soaking perfect. Just as he was that night when he played my body and made me scream with mind-numbing pleasure for all the wrong reasons. I can’t look away, can’t stop hearing Cassis’s words either. There is nothing about Reese that looks remotely soft or vulnerable, not unless I look deep into those haunted blue eyes.
“Is there a problem, Devinee?” he asks as he stops beside my desk, his voice cool and measured.
Yes, of course there’s a problem. “No,” I say softly, unable to tear my gaze from his. “No, sir.”
Reese nods curtly as if there was nothing strange in our exchange at all and continues patrolling the desks while I remain rooted to my seat and unable to think. So much for no distractions.
As I take the test, I notice distantly that the room is actually starting to feel chilly instead of muggy. When I put a hand to my forehead, it’s dry and cool, no trace of a fever.
Unfortunately, feeling better does nothing for my trig skills. I’m filling in the “b” bubble on all the multiple-choice questions I didn’t get to just as the math professor returns to announce the end of the exam and collect the booklets. Before I can hand in my work, Reese walks out the door without a backward glance.
The exam room empties quickly after that, the cadets eager to be free of the oppressive walls, but I stay in my seat, my mind firmly on Reese. On what Cassis said to me last night. One part of me is determined to hunt Reese down. Another part has no idea what I’d say if I found him. As my fingers drum the polished surface of the desk, a sickly cologne scent reaches my nose.
“Witch bitch.” Christian’s foot jets out from behind me, hooking the leg of my chair and yanking hard.
The chair sways, my nails scraping helplessly over the table as I fall backward, landing with a crash. A dull sort of echo reverberates through me, and, before I can scramble up, Christian’s foot presses my wrist into the floor.
“You think you are so very special, don’t you?” The demivamp’s face is twisted with disgust. “Spreading your legs for the count, like the slu—”
Suddenly Christian is yanked off me by his shirt collar with a gargling shriek.
I hear a growl, a crack, and jump to my feet in time to see Ellis striding toward the door, Christian holding his bleeding mouth. Flipping Christian off, I hurry after the fae. For a guy who’s just come to my rescue, he still seems strangely unwilling to meet my gaze, his long legs carrying him quickly down the corridor and into the men’s room.
As if that’s going to stop me.
I catch the still-swinging door and follow Ellis inside. The one other person already in there, a skinny brown-haired second year, stares at me wide-eyed, his cock hanging out of his pants.
“What—” the boy starts to say.
“Leave,” Ellis and I tell him together before glowering at each other.
The boy quickly tucks himself back into his pants, half skipping to the exit.
“You too,” Ellis tells me, towering over me as he holds open the door. “Now.”
“No.” I’m not backing away, not this time. Walking calmly toward the marble countertop, I pull myself up to sit on it. “You look like shit, by the way. Or like you’ve become a vamp.”
“What do you want?” Ellis asks. Despite his powerful frame, he looks pale, a thin sheen of sweat glistening at his temples.
“To apologize.” I long to touch him. To help him. Fuck, I’d settle for fighting him. I don’t care if he’s mad so long as he isn’t ignoring me.
“Apologize?” Ellis runs his hand through his pale blond hair, letting the door swing close to shut out the noises from the hallway. With a quick flick of his finger, he snaps the lock, his brows pulling together with sudden focus. “What did you do, Devinee?”
“What do you mean, what did I do? I—” I cut off as I notice Ellis swaying slightly on his feet, his arm going out toward the wall for balance, though there is no change to the intensity of his eyes.
In anyone else, I’d make nothing of it. But Ellis isn’t anyone. I hop off my perch, stalking up to him.
“What’s going on?” I demand. The heat emanating from Ellis envelops me like a furnace. My hand closes around his hard biceps, and he flinches, his muscles coiled tight beneath my fingers. “Holy fucking shit,” I whisper. “You’re burning up.”
“I’m fine.” He shakes himself like a wet wolf. “I just need a minute to wash my face.”
“You are not fine.” Yanking him around to face me, I jerk his uniform shirt open. The buttons spring off and ping against mirror and walls. My gut is telling what I’m going to see even before I pull back the fabric to reveal angry red streaks snaking over his perfect skin and chiseled muscles beneath. My mouth dries. Dread and confirmation mix together. I know what I’m looking at. I’ve seen it before, in the cage when Ellis had iron shackles clamped around his wrists. “Iron poisoning. How the hell do you have iron poisoning?”
Ellis’s back tightens, but he doesn’t pull away. “The iron from the whip’s tips got into my blood somehow. It doesn’t matter. I’ll heal. Without your involvement.”
“Why are you being an asshole?”
A muscle clenches in Ellis’s jaw, the many things he’s not saying charging the air between us. “I have my reasons, and they are not your concern.” His hand curls at his side, and he steps away, his Highland accent growing thick with anger. “Listen, Devinee. Ye make me vulnerable. Shite that shouldn’t hurt me does hurt when yer around. So, if you want to help, get the hell away from me. And stay that way.”
“You know what you are?” I shout right back into Ellis’s face, my pulse pounding in my throat. “An injured wolf caught in a trap, snapping its teeth at anyone and everyone. And you know what? I don’t give two fucks what you want right now.” Before the male can realize what I’m about to do—before I fully r
ealize—I press my palm over the mark on his chest.
24
Sam
The magic inside me wakens, like a key turning a lock to unleash the power within. Buzzing fills my blood, as if a million bees hum inside my veins. And then…
Pain so fierce that my howl echoes off the bathroom tile, my nerves scorching beneath the assault. My back is by far the worst, the skin and muscles sizzling with agony that spreads through me like wildfire. Breathing hurts. Moving hurts. Blood runs down my lip from where I’ve bitten it.
Through the haze of pain, I feel Ellis grip my shoulder to try to wrench my hand away from his chest. “Devinee! Stop. Let go.”
I shake my head, sinking my magic’s claws farther into him. Whatever I feel, it’s only a fraction of what it’s been doing to the male.
Somewhere, a door rattles, someone cursing colorfully on the other side.
Forcing a breath into my lungs, I struggle to get my bearings, flexing the magic connecting Ellis and me. Feeling the iron that’s the cause of all this, the poison that’s coursing through his body. Once I’ve marked enough of the element, I grit my teeth and call it toward me.
Holy fuck. My back seems to open with hellfire that’s spreading through my body, burning me from the inside. A keening sound fills the room, and I’m only vaguely aware that it’s coming from me.
The rattling door gives way with a crash, followed by the sound of rushing footsteps. A familiar British voice demanding to know what the bloody hell is happening.
“I can’t make her let go.” Ellis’s voice has a hint of panic as he pulls on my hand to try to get it away. But he can’t. The claws of my magic have dug in hard. I can feel them. And I want them there no matter how much it hurts. For me, it’s just pain. For Ellis, it’s death.
“So I’ve gathered.” Reese’s face comes into view, though he looks like two versions of him separated slightly, as if I’m watching a 3D film without the glasses.
There are two version, I realize vaguely. One that I see through my eyes, the other through Ellis’s.
“Do something, you bastard,” Ellis snaps.
“I am.” Reese’s hand runs down along my back, cool and powerful.
I inhale his scent, his minty tang mixing with the caustic smell of chlorine used to clean this place. The room feels too hot. The air is too thick to breathe. “You’ll have to break my hand to break the hold,” I warn the males through clenched teeth. The iron that is burning through the life force of Ellis’s magic seeps slowly into me. Progress, but still far to go. “And it won’t work even then.”
“I’m not going to break your hold, Samantha,” Reese promises, ignoring the fury that spills through Ellis into my blood. “But I will help.”
I don’t understand what he means until he rolls up his sleeve, the star-shaped scar on his forearm shiny beneath the overhead fluorescent lights.
“Samantha.” Reese’s voice is smooth and battle calm. Too calm considering what he says next. “I need to take a sip of your blood. That’s the fastest way for me to know what’s happening. Can you trust me to do that?”
I draw a shuddering breath, remember when Cassis sank his teeth into my neck to learn the truth about me. It was terrifying—but I didn’t know him then. Didn’t trust him. When Reese pricked my skin in the heat of passion, I liked it. Maybe it won’t be so bad.
As if reading my mind, Reese says, “It will hurt more than before, Samantha. I’ll have to bite much deeper. Are you ready?”
I nod once and feel his strong fingers move my head gently to one side, the callused thumbs running over my neck as my heart gallops.
“Don’t be frightened,” he says, as if it’s something I have control over, as if the feeling of him next to my pulsing veins isn’t sending a rush of terror through me. Without the heat of desire firing all my senses at once, it’s just the bold facts: a predator about to sink his teeth into his natural prey. “I need to know what’s happening, Samantha. If you are terrified, I’ll get the fear, not the facts.”
“You’re about to bite me,” I pant. “Not sure what you expect.”
“Hold, Reesand.” Ellis’s tone takes on a note of command, and Reese crisply nods his consent. A heartbeat later, I feel the tendrils of Ellis’s cool calm flow into me, easing the terror. Not fully, but enough to take the edge off. To let me know that I’m not alone.
I’ve never felt this connected to someone in my life, and despite the pain and fear, something deep inside wouldn’t trade this for the world. To know that I can help. That someone wants to help me.
Ellis takes my face between his hands. “Look at me, Devinee.” I do. I see the tiny specks of green in his golden eyes, his thick blond lashes, the shadows underneath that I wish I could wipe away. “Keep looking.”
Reese’s teeth puncture my neck, the immediate sting making me gasp. I hold Ellis’s gaze as Reese pulls blood from my vein, his hands strong and supportive on my body. With the first pain of puncture gone, it burns, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. It’s…strange. The warm slip of blood, the cool pressure of Reese’s mouth a natural balm, almost numbing the area. The strange combination makes my heart pound, my breath come in short gasps.
A moment later, Reese lifts his mouth away and turns me toward him, his face serious and detached, though he rubs a small circle on the back of my shoulder. “Give me your other hand.”
I try, but my palm only twitches.
He seems to get the idea and reaches for my hand himself. Before I have a chance to yelp, he makes a shallow cut across my palm with one nail, the tiny sting more unexpected than anything. His jaw set, Reese presses my hand to his forearm, my cut covering his scar.
My vision splits again, going haywire as images from three sets of eyes shift and overlap in a dizzying kaleidoscope of sensation. A sort of cool gel spills into my simmering veins, the addition simultaneously soothing and powerful. The buzzing inside my blood intensifies, which I think means I’m burning the iron more efficiently, but might just be a hallucination.
Wetness seeps through the hem of my skirt and covers my knees and shins where I’m now kneeling on the floor. Blinking, I see that the bathroom is now flooded with a thin layer of water, a burst pipe in the wall spilling onto the floor.
The back of Reese’s hand wipes my face, and I realize a tear of pain has slipped over my cheek. Just one tear. The rest, apparently, the bathroom is weeping for me.
“Easy, witch,” Reese is calm but unyielding. “Slow your breathing. Now.”
I obey without thought, falling into a three-way connection. We stay like that for a short eternity, until the flow of iron from Ellis into me slows to a trickle and my magic pulls back the little claws it had sunk into the fae male.
Reese catches me as I sway, disoriented from the sudden loss of connection with Ellis. Instead of separating from me, Reese stays put, letting my hand keep drawing his strength until my muscles ease—and other things start flowing through the bond between us.
A female. Dark-haired and ethereal, laughing as rain pelts her skin. Eyes closed, she tips her face up to the clouds.
She is so real, so loved, that I want to reach out to her. But the moment I try, the mirage fades.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“My wife.” Reese’s words are curt. He reaches to pull my hand away from his forearm just as something jolts all three of us, as if a live wire has fallen onto the flooded floor.
Both males’ grips on me tighten, confusion and readiness filling their faces as a clear soprano voice fills the air between us.
If you are listening to this message, then the time for vampire and fae and witch to join together has come. I do not expect you to forgive me my choices, nor do I apologize for them. But know that I never lied to you when I shared my dream—I only omitted that the time for it was not yet here. Everything I did, all the blood—yours and mine—was to ensure that the dream had a chance. And now the five of you can carry it forth. Your souls need each other, and the w
orld needs you.
The voice stops, leaving nothing but a smell of burnt hickory behind.
I swallow. “Was that—”
“Yes,” says Ellis, his voice penetrating through the darkening haze settling over me. “That was Sienna.”
25
Sam
I open my eyes to blink at the harsh light, the smell of cleanliness and antiseptic filling my nose. Cool cotton presses against my skin, the crisp fabric stretching the length of my naked body. Yes. I’m definitely naked and lying on my stomach, a thin blanket covering me to the waist.
“Reesand,” Ellis calls from the other side of the bed. “She’s awake.”
I want to turn toward him, but I ache too much for that. I remember nothing about how I got here. In fact, the last thing I have in my fuzz-filled mind is being in the flooded bathroom with Ellis and Reese and a shitload of magic.
A door swings opens on oiled hinges, and Reese’s tall, powerful body fills my vision. Dressed in a pair of light-blue medical scrubs with his sleeves rolled up to show off corded forearms, the vamp has a severe look about him.
“Where am I?” My mouth feels thick, and I’m so thirsty. “Why am I here?”
“Infirmary. Because you acted first and thought never.” Reese takes a thermometer off the counter and brushes it across my forehead, every movement executed with military precision. I wonder which Reese is in the room with me, the one who held me in the bathroom or the one who left without a word. “Thirty-seven point one. Slight elevation, but we are past the worst of it.”
“If I had a thirty-seven-degree temperature, I’d be a block of ice,” I mutter to him.
“Celsius, Samantha.”
“Fuck you.” I wince at my particular choice of epithet.
“You sure you’re up for that just now?” Ellis says from my other side.
This time, I do manage to turn to look at him, just so I can glare. The male sits in a chair, looking pallid, but—except for the fatigue lining his face—much better than I last saw him. His pale blond hair hangs loose to his shoulders and is lightly damp as if he just showered. He wears slim jeans and a tight white V-neck that stretches across his pecs and shoulders, and somehow, this detail—Ellis wearing real clothes that don’t look like they were pulled from a week-old laundry pile—comforts me more than anything else.
