Crush

by Tracy Wolff

  “Let things ride?” Jaxon asks, his voice dripping with the same incredulity I’m feeling inside.

  “Yes.” For the first time, there’s a hint of steel in my uncle’s voice. “What Grace needs right now is for things to go back to normal.”

  I think he’s forgetting that having a psychopathic vampire on my ass has pretty much been the norm for me since I got to this school. The fact that we have apparently switched Lia out for Hudson just feels like par for the course at this point. Which is depressing, to say the least, but also true.

  I swear, if I were reading this story, I’d say the plot twists were getting ridiculous. But I’m not reading it. I’m living it, and that is so much worse.

  “What Grace needs,” Jaxon corrects, “is to feel safe. Which she won’t be able to do until we make sure Hudson isn’t a threat.”

  “No, what Grace needs,” my uncle continues, “is routine. There’s safety in knowing what’s going to happen and when it’s going to happen. She’ll be better off—”

  “Grace will be better off,” I interrupt as annoyance bubbles to the surface, “if her uncle and her boyfriend start talking to her instead of about her. Since I have a semi-functioning brain and, you know, agency in my own life.”

  To their credit, they both look shamefaced at the verbal slap down. As they should. I may not be a vampire or a warlock, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to lie down and let “the menfolk” make decisions about my life for me. Especially not when both of them seem to be of the “wrap Grace in cotton and protect her” opinion. Which also really isn’t going to fly with me.

  “You’re right,” my uncle agrees in a much more subdued tone. “What do you want to do, Grace?”

  I think for a minute. “I want things to be normal—or at least as normal as they can get for a girl who lives with a witch and is dating a vampire. But I also want to figure out what happened with Hudson. I feel like we’ve got to find him if we have any chance at all of keeping everyone safe.”

  “I’m not worried about keeping everyone safe,” Jaxon growls. “I’m just worried about keeping you safe.”

  It’s a good line and, not going to lie, it melts me a little on the inside. But on the outside, I stay tough, because someone has to figure out this mess, and since I’m the only one with a front-row seat—even if I don’t remember what I saw from that seat—that someone is going to have to be me.

  I clench my fists in frustration, ignoring the pain that shoots through my already abused fingertips as I do. This is important, really important. I have to remember what happened to Hudson.

  Did I leave him chained up somewhere, a threat to no one?

  Did he escape and that’s why my hands are so beaten up—because I tried to stop him?

  Or—and I hate this idea the most—did he use his gift of persuasion on me and get me to just let him go? And if so, is that why my memory is shot to hell?

  The not knowing is killing me, as is the fear that I’ve let everyone down.

  Jaxon fought so hard to get rid of Hudson the first time. He sacrificed everything, including whatever love his mother had for him, in order to destroy his brother—and to keep Hudson from destroying the whole world.

  How can I live with myself if we find out that I just let him walk away? That I gave him a chance to continue wreaking havoc on Katmere and the world?

  That I gave him another chance to hurt the boy I love?

  That thought more than any other feeds the fear inside me and has me croaking out, “We need to find him,” in a voice hoarse with concern. “We need to figure out where he went and make sure he can’t hurt anyone else.”

  And we need to figure out why I’m certain I’m forgetting something very important that happened during those four months.

  Before it’s too late.

  7

  What I Don’t Know

  Will Hurt Me…

  and Everyone Else

  After Marise checks me over for what feels like hours, Uncle Finn finally lets Jaxon take me away. It’s obvious from the way both men and Marise fretted over me that no one was taking my health for granted, which was comforting. Marise even checked me for a brain injury because, well, hello, amnesia.

  But I am unbelievably healthy, minus some scrapes and bruises on my hands, and deemed fit to reenter Katmere Academy. Apparently, being stone for four months could be the next big health craze.

  As Jaxon and I walk casually back to my room, though, my mind can’t stop replaying a part of my conversation with Marise, when she was apologizing for not knowing more about gargoyle physiology.

  “You’re the first gargoyle to exist in a thousand years.”

  Fantastic. Because who doesn’t want to be a trendsetter when it comes to their basic physiology? Oh, right. Everyone.

  Not going to lie, I have absolutely no idea how to process the information that I’m the first modern-day one of my kind, so I file it away in a folder marked: “Shit I Don’t Need to Deal with Today.” And another one titled “Thanks for the Heads-Up, Mom and Dad.”

  Just then, I notice that Jaxon’s not leading me to my room but to his tower rooms. I tug on his hand to get his attention. “Hey, we can’t head to your rooms. I need to stop by mine for a few minutes; then I want to take a quick shower and grab a granola bar before heading to class.”

  “Class?” He looks shocked. “Wouldn’t you rather rest today?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve been ‘resting’ for the last four months. What I really want to do is get back to class and catch up on what I missed. I’m supposed to graduate in two and a half months, and I don’t even want to think about how many missing assignments I have.”

  “We always knew you’d come back, Grace.” He smiles down at me and squeezes my hand. “So your uncle and teachers already have a plan in place. You just need to set up appointments to talk to them about it.”

  “Oh, wow. That’s awesome.” I give him a tight hug. “Thank you for your help with everything.”

  He hugs me back. “You don’t need to thank me. That’s what I’m here for.” He pivots, and we switch directions and head to my room. “Mrs. Haversham should have emailed your new schedule by now. It changed at the semester, even though…” His voice trails off.

  “Even though I wasn’t here to change with it,” I finish, because I’ve just decided that I’m not going to spend the rest of the school year tiptoeing around my new reality. It is what it is, and the sooner we all learn to live with it, the sooner things will get back to normal. Myself included.

  I’ve got a long list of questions to ask Jaxon and Macy about gargoyles. And once I get the answers, I’m going to start trying to figure out how to live with it gracefully. Tomorrow. On the plus side, the fact that I don’t have horns should make the graceful part a lot easier to bear.

  Jaxon stares down at me, and I expect him to kiss me—I’ve been dying to kiss him from the moment he walked into my uncle’s office—but when I lean in to him, he subtly shakes his head. The rejection stings a little, at least until I remember just how many people were staring at me when I was walking through the halls earlier.

  That was more than an hour ago. Now that word has probably gotten around that the resident gargoyle is human again, I can’t imagine how many people will be watching us—even though class is supposed to be in session.

  Sure enough, when we turn the corner into one of the side hallways, people are everywhere—and every single one of them is looking at us. I can feel myself tensing up before we’ve taken more than a step or two. They drop their eyes when Jaxon walks by, though.

  Jaxon wraps an arm around my shoulders, then ducks his head until his mouth is almost pressed against my ear. “Don’t worry about them,” he murmurs. “Once everyone gets a look at you, things will settle down.”

  I know he’s right—after my first couple of days here,
no one paid any attention to me at all, unless I was walking beside Jaxon. There’s no reason to think that will change now. Thankfully. Notoriety isn’t exactly my speed.

  We book it to my room, turning what’s usually a ten-minute walk into one that’s closer to five or six. And still it isn’t fast enough. Not with Jaxon beside me, his arm around my shoulders. His long, lean body pressed against my side.

  I need him to be closer, need to feel his arms around me and his soft lips on mine.

  Jaxon must feel the same way, because once we hit the top of the stairs, his quick walk turns into something closer to a jog. And by the time we get to my room, my hands are trembling and my heart is beating way too fast.

  Thank God Macy left the door unlocked, because I’m not sure Jaxon wouldn’t have torn the thing off the hinges otherwise. Instead, he pushes open the door and ushers me through it, hissing only a little as Macy’s enchanted curtain brushes against his bare forearm.

  “Is your arm okay?” I ask as the door closes behind us. Jaxon is too busy pushing me up against it to answer.

  “I missed you,” he growls, lips barely an inch from my own.

  “I missed y—” It’s all I manage to get out before his mouth comes crashing down on mine.

  8

  Put a Little

  Love on Me

  I didn’t know.

  I didn’t know how much I missed this, didn’t know how much I missed Jaxon, until this moment.

  His body pressed against mine.

  His hands cupping my face, fingers tangled in my hair.

  His mouth devouring mine—lips and teeth and tongue lighting me up from the inside. Making me want. Making me need.

  Jaxon. Always Jaxon.

  I shift against him, desperate to get even closer, and he growls low in his throat. I can feel the tension in his body, can feel the same need in him that is burning deep inside me. But through it all, his hold remains gentle, his fingers stroking my hair instead of pulling, his body cradling mine instead of trying to invade my space.

  “Mine.” I whisper the word against his lips and he shudders, wrenching his mouth from my lips.

  I whimper, try to pull him back, but he shudders again, buries his face in the bend where my shoulder and neck meet. And then he just breathes—long, slow, deep breaths—like he’s trying to pull my very essence deep inside himself.

  I know the feeling.

  I slide my hands down to his waist, and as my hands skim over him, I realize he really did lose weight while I was…gone.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper against his ear, but he just shakes his head as he pulls me closer.

  “Don’t.” He presses soft kisses along the length of my neck. “Don’t ever apologize to me for what you went through. It’s my fault that I didn’t protect you.”

  “It’s nobody’s fault,” I tell him, even as I tilt my head back to give him better access. “It just is what it is.”

  Tears suddenly burn my eyes. I blink them away, but Jaxon knows. His hands, already gentle, become downright tender as they stroke my arm, my shoulder, my cheek. “It’s going to be okay, Grace. I promise.”

  “It’s already okay.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

  “Yes.” He presses a kiss to the sensitive spot behind my ear. “Finally.”

  My legs go liquid. Heat races through me. My heart trembles in my chest. Jaxon holds me up—of course he does—and murmurs, “I love you,” as he gently scrapes his teeth over my collarbone.

  And just like that, everything inside me freezes. My breath, my blood, even the need that’s been burning inside me since he walked into my uncle’s office. All of it…gone. Just like that.

  Jaxon must feel it, because he stops immediately. And when he lifts his head, there’s a wary, watchful look in his eyes that makes me feel like I did something wrong. “Grace?” he asks, shifting back a little so that he’s no longer crowding me. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just…” I trail off because I don’t know how to answer him, don’t know what to say. Because I want him. I do. I just don’t know how to deal with this weird, uncomfortable feeling that’s building inside me all of a sudden.

  “You just…?” Jaxon waits for an answer. Not in an aggressive way but in a concerned way, like he really does just want to make sure I’m all right.

  But knowing that only makes the feeling inside me worse, the pressure building until I feel like a rocket about to go off. “I don’t… I want… It feels…” I sound like a jerk fumbling around for an explanation, but then my stomach growls—loudly—and understanding replaces Jaxon’s concern.

  “I should have kept my hands to myself until you had something to eat,” he says, taking another couple of steps back. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I needed to kiss you.” I squeeze his hand, glad to have an explanation for the weird feeling inside me. My mom always said that low blood sugar does strange things, and I can only imagine how low mine is right now, considering I haven’t eaten in nearly four months. “I’ll just grab one of Macy’s granola bars and then go to class. You probably have to head out soon, too, right?”

  “Sure,” he says, but I can tell the light has dimmed in his eyes.

  I know it’s my fault. I know he’s just being Jaxon and I’m the one who is suddenly acting all weird. But…I don’t know. Everything just feels off with me, and I don’t have a clue how to fix it.

  I should probably lean forward so my hair brushes against Jaxon’s hand and he knows everything’s okay. Or at least lean into him for one more hug. But I don’t actually want to do either of those things, so I don’t. Instead, I smile up at him and say, “See you later?”

  “Yeah.” He smiles back. “Definitely.”

  “Oh, and for some reason, I’ve lost my phone. Meet back here?”

  He nods, then gives me another little wave and heads out of my room and down the hallway toward the stairs.

  I watch him go, admiring the way he walks, full of purpose and confidence and a come-at-me-at-your-own-risk insouciance that shouldn’t do it for me but somehow totally does. Also, I am completely admiring the hell out of what his very nice ass does for those boring black uniform pants.

  Once Jaxon starts to go around the corner, I step back into my room, then kind of pause as he turns to look down the hall at me. He’s got a huge grin on his face now, and it looks good on him. As do the crinkles by the corners of his eyes and the lightness that seems to cover his whole face.

  The grin fades just a little as our eyes meet—almost like he’s embarrassed to be caught looking so happy—but it’s too late. I’ve gotten a glimpse at what Jaxon Vega looks like when he’s beaming, and it turns out I like it. I really, really like it.

  The anxiety in the pit of my stomach dissolves as easily as it came, and suddenly it’s the easiest thing in the world to blow him the kiss I couldn’t give him earlier. His eyes widen at the gesture and, while he doesn’t do anything as corny as reaching out to grab it, he does wink at me.

  I’m laughing as I close my door and head for the shower. How can I not when the Jaxon Vega I get to see is a million times sweeter and more charming than the one the world knows?

  But as I turn on the water, a chill works its way through me. Because if it turns out I let Hudson escape, if it turns out I really did bring him back with me, then I’ll be the one responsible for hurting Jaxon and taking away his happiness.

  No way am I going to let that happen to him. Not now. Not ever again.

  9

  Livin’ on a

  Hope-Induced

  Hallucination

  Three shampoos and two full-body scrubs later, I finally feel like a new woman. One who might not turn into a hulking stone monster at the least provocation. I wrap myself and my hair up in towels (hot pink, of course—thank yo
u, Macy) and reach for my phone to check the time.

  Which I can’t do because I don’t have a phone. Ugh.

  Also, since there is no clock in the room and I don’t have a phone, I’m feeling pretty grumpy as I slap moisturizer on my face and start to dry my hair.

  The sad fact is, I’m going to have to get on this no-phone thing sooner rather than later. Partly because my entire life is on my phone and partly because I really, really need to text Heather. I can’t even imagine what my best friend is thinking right now—except, of course, that I ghosted her for absolutely no reason.

  Thankfully, my electronics are the only things missing. My backpack was apparently with me the entire time, and my school uniforms are right where I left them—in my closet. I take a minute to re-bandage my hurt fingers, then grab a black skirt and purple polo from my closet. I add a pair of black tights and my school boots, pause to slick a little lip gloss on my lips and mascara on my lashes, then grab my backpack and head for the door.

  I don’t know what time it is exactly, but Jaxon left here around noon. Which means I should have plenty of time to make my one o’clock class: Mystical Architecture.

  I have no idea what kind of class this is, but the truth is I’m excited about it. Even though there’s a part of me that wonders if I am now enrolled in it because I’m apparently a living, breathing example of mystical architecture.

  Deciding not to dwell on the fact that I might be part of the props, I throw open my door and book it down the long dorm hallway, with its decorated doors and black sconces in the shape of different dragons. As always, I giggle a little as I pass the door decorated with bats.

  The first day I got to Katmere, I assumed the room belonged to a Batman aficionado and thought it was the coolest. Now I know it’s a vampire joke à la Jaxon’s best friend, Mekhi, and I love it even more. Especially when I see that he’s added a couple of new bat stickers.