The Warlock's Kiss

by Tiffany Roberts

  Be destroyed or be used. Neither option was appealing.

  But she was appealing, and he wouldn’t mind if she used him for something else…

  Merrick took a step closer to her. That small movement was enough for him to feel the heat wafting off her body. He knew it wasn’t all because of the bath. “Are you all right, Adalynn?”

  “I-I’m fine. You can go now.”

  He extended an arm to brush Adalynn’s hair away from her shoulder. His fingertips trailed over her soft skin, sending a thrill through his body that nearly made him groan. Her breath hitched, and her eyes flared infinitesimally. Despite the other scents clinging to her—sweat and dirt, primarily—he could still smell the fragrance that was undeniably, entirely her. It was reminiscent of lavender blooms beneath a warm summer sun.

  Merrick released a soft but strained breath; he yearned to touch more, to tear away her shirt—and his own—and pull her against him. “You don’t sound very certain.”

  Movement below caught his attention, and his eyes dropped to see her little toes curl inward against the floor. One candle lay to her right, and another to her left, undoubtedly knocked over when she’d leapt out of the water.

  “I’m fine. Really,” she said a little breathlessly. “It doesn’t even burn anymore.”

  He lifted his gaze again, stopping it this time at her collarbone. It would be so easy—and so satisfying—to lean forward and trace it with his lips.

  When he sank slowly into a crouch, leaving his face mere inches from her sex—with only the dangling fabric of her shirt serving as a barrier—Adalynn released a soft whimper and pressed herself even more firmly against the wall. Her scent was different here; he could detect the earthy, sweet notes of her arousal.

  Merrick nearly groaned. His cock ached with want for release, with want for her, and his lips parted to let out a shaky breath. In an instant, he could have swept her shirt aside and devoured her. In an instant, he could have had her up against the wall, legs spread, crying out in pleasure as he worshipped her sex with his mouth and tongue.

  Maintaining his deliberately slow pace, he reached aside with both hands and—leaning just a little closer to her, close enough that his breath moved the cloth of her shirt—plucked the fallen candles off the floor.

  When he finally stood, delirious heat suffused his chest, and the desire-driven discomfort in his groin was almost too much to bear. He set the candles on the shelf over Adalynn’s head and looked down at her. “Is there anything I can do for you, Adalynn?”

  With head tilted back, lips parted, and pupils blown wide, she stared up at him. She caught her lip between her teeth for a second, and the action sent a jolt straight to his cock, making it twitch.

  Smiling, Adalynn shook her head. “No. I mean…maybe a little more light? And some, um…privacy.”

  He couldn’t help but smile himself, though her answer—even if he’d expected it—disappointed him. He stared at her lips for a few more seconds, letting himself wonder what they would feel like, what she would taste like, before he finally stepped away. Raising a hand, he snapped his fingers.

  The unlit candles flared to life, bathing the room in their soft, flickering glow.

  Adalynn gasped, looking around in wonder before her gaze returned to him. “Merrick?”

  Oh, fuck. Merrick, you twice-cursed fool.

  “Enjoy your bath, Adalynn,” he said, dipping his head in a shallow bow. He spun and exited the room before she could say anything more, pulling the door shut behind him.

  He lifted a hand and buried his fingers in his hair, tugging it back sharply as he muttered under his breath, “After all that, why be so stupid? What, did you think she wouldn’t notice?”

  But he hadn’t been thinking at all; it had seemed so natural in that moment to use his magic to cater to her whims, to fulfill her wish as quickly and wholly as possible.

  And now there’d be a conversation in the morning that he was neither prepared nor willing to have, because Adalynn was intelligent, observant, and protective of her brother. His only consolation was that he’d be sending them on their way with the sunrise…

  But even he wasn’t entirely certain of his conviction on that matter.

  He returned to his study and sat at his desk, restless and fully aware that his research wasn’t likely to progress much further tonight—his mind was even more preoccupied with Adalynn than it had been a few minutes earlier. Now he had that fleeting, exquisite glimpse of her naked body to fuel the flames of his desire, now he had her mouthwatering scent lingering in his nose, and his skin still pulsed with her resonance, her mana song, which seemed to play just for him.

  Merrick dropped a hand to his groin and squeezed his hard, aching cock, but the gesture provided no relief.

  Why, after all this time? Why am I suddenly craving a human?

  Chapter Five

  A peal of thunder rattled the window. Merrick’s frown deepened, but he did not move away from the glass. He’d slowly woven magic into every piece of this manor over the years since he’d purchased it, infusing it with arcane energies to ensure it remained in the best possible condition; before the Sundering, repairs had meant calling human laborers, and he preferred to avoid that whenever possible. Those enchantments on his home had been bolstered by the invisible barrier he’d shaped around it to protect it from a world that seemed hellbent on destruction—lightning and fallen branches would never touch the manor, even if the rain could.

  That protection hadn’t meant anything when a little human woman had picked up a rock and smashed in his front window.

  But he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for that.

  Though morning had come, there was no sunlight—everything was drab gray, and the heavy rains had already made the ground mucky. The dirt lane that led from the manor to the main road would’ve been impossible to traverse by this point.

  He watched the fat raindrops fall, watched them turn the surfaces of countless puddles into rippling bastions of chaos, and told himself this was the time to send the humans on their way. What did the weather matter to him? It was their problem, not Merrick’s.

  At least one of them was awake already. Merrick knew it was the boy—he sensed that Adalynn was down the hall, in the bedroom he’d let the humans use, though he wasn’t sure how or why he was aware of her location.

  Lightning streaked across the sky—at least seven strikes all in rapid succession, blasting over the trees to create a wall of blue-white electricity. It was there and gone in a flash, though its web-like afterimage lingered in his vision for several seconds.

  The fleeting nature of those lightning strikes—which came and went in the blink of an eye but could have such profound impact on whatever they touched—reminded him of Adalynn.

  Adalynn, who’d already so deeply affected him.

  Adalynn, who’d kept Merrick awake all night, who’d sparked consuming arousal and unfulfilled lust in him.

  Adalynn, who would be gone so soon whether he sent her away or not.

  That ominous thought was punctuated by deep, booming thunder—thunder that seemed intent on shaking his manor apart despite its magical protections.

  Those protections suddenly seemed inadequate.

  He knew, in his heart, that if he sent Adalynn and Danny away, he’d spend the entire day standing at this window, watching the rain and thinking of her. Feeling her absence. Feeling…guilty. Even now, he wanted to go to her. He could imagine entering the bedroom to find her curled up on the bed asleep, could imagine himself climbing in to lie beside her, could imagine himself wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close.

  After more than a thousand years, is it really going to be this little human to drive me mad?

  And while I am here brooding, young Daniel has already gone downstairs and raided my pantry.

  The thought of his precious supply of peanut butter being decimated was just the distraction Merrick needed in that moment. He stepped back from the window, tugge
d the curtains closed, and exited his study.

  Despite a powerful urge to glance down the hall toward Adalynn’s bedroom, he kept his attention directed forward—lest he find his body turning toward her—and strode to the staircase, descending swiftly.

  When he reached the kitchen, he stopped in the doorway.

  Danny was indeed at the table, an open sleeve of crackers set before him—with the jar of peanut butter beside them. Merrick’s eyebrows fell, and his jaw muscles tightened, but he stopped himself from charging at the adolescent.

  Lips pressed together as though in concentration—or perhaps anticipation—Danny opened the jar before raising a cracker in one hand and a butter knife in the other. He delicately dipped the knife into the jar. When he lifted it clear, a pea-sized bit of peanut butter was on its tip. The boy stared with wide eyes as he spread the peanut butter on the cracker; it didn’t go far.

  Danny licked his lips, inhaled deeply, and exhaled. He moved the cracker to his mouth and took a little bite from the edge. His body sagged as he tilted his head back and moaned in appreciation. “So, so good,” he muttered.

  He finished the cracker in several small bites, pausing to relish each one. After the cracker was gone, Danny shifted his gaze between the red lid and the open jar, worrying his lower lip as though he were contemplating having more. That he was hesitating at all was impressive to Merrick, but what the boy did next was surprising.

  Danny nodded to himself, took another cracker out of the sleeve, and scooped out a slightly larger glob of peanut butter. He smeared it over the cracker, scraping everything off the knife along the cracker’s edge. Then, holding the cracker between forefinger and thumb, he carefully set it down on the table in front of the empty seat beside him. The seat his sister had occupied the night before.

  Once the cracker was down, Danny picked up the lid and screwed it back onto the jar.

  Something shifted inside Merrick, something deep, old, and powerful. Something that had shaped his life since he was even younger than this human.

  Merrick hadn’t been able to bring himself to hate this boy and his sister, even when they’d broken into his home, but he still should’ve been as indifferent toward them as he had been toward most every other human he’d ever encountered. Their lives should’ve been of no consequence to him. Whether they lived or died should’ve been unimportant so long as they were out of his home. Danny, in particular, represented much of what made humans dangerous—their easily roused passion, their volatility, their disrespectfulness.

  But this simple act—even if it violated the boundaries Merrick had established—showed a different side of humanity. A side that had been so easy for Merrick to ignore in his isolation and bitterness. Because Danny and Adalynn both exemplified the human capacity for loyalty, for compassion, for sacrifice.

  Merrick had gone hungry many times in his life, especially during his youth. Though it had been long ago, and his appetites for physical food had diminished since—even if his enjoyment of it had not—he’d never forgotten. He never would forget. The pleasure Danny had expressed in that taste of peanut butter reminded Merrick of himself as a child.

  But in setting a cracker aside—with more than he’d taken for himself—Danny had proven his maturity, his appreciation, his thoughtfulness. And that spoke to Merrick more deeply than he would’ve thought possible.

  Merrick stepped into the kitchen and approached the table.

  Danny lifted his head, meeting Merrick’s gaze, and his entire body went taut. Guilt and fear gleamed in the boy’s eyes and paled his skin. He gulped and forced a wide grin. “Morning?”

  “It certainly is,” Merrick replied as he slowly pulled out the chair across from Danny.

  The boy’s grin crumbled. “Please don’t kill me.”

  Merrick sat down and dipped his chin toward the cracker on the table. “Who is that for?”

  Danny glanced at the cracker. His shoulders sagged. “Addy. But you can have it if you want it.”

  “I think she’s earned it, don’t you?”

  The boy cocked his head, his brows furrowing. “You’re not mad?”

  Reaching forward, Merrick picked up the peanut butter jar. He kept his eyes on Danny as he unscrewed the lid and set it aside. This had been a fairly fresh jar—Merrick himself had only eaten a little after opening it—and Danny seemed to have used a negligible amount.

  Merrick slid the jar in front of the boy. “I should be.”

  Danny stared at the jar for a moment before returning his gaze to Merrick. “But…you’re not?”

  “Eat some more.”

  The boy perked. “Really?” He reached for the jar and dragged it closer only to pause suddenly, his features falling in suspicion. “Wait…it’s not poison, is it?”

  Merrick’s brows rose. “You just ate some, Daniel. Now that I offer it freely, you ask if it is poisoned? Should you not have considered that before you snuck a taste?”

  “Did you forget how you were acting about it yesterday?”

  “No, but you must have.”

  “Um, sorry, but if you’re so protective over your peanut butter you clearly understand that this stuff is like the greatest thing ever invented. How was I supposed to resist it?”

  Merrick couldn’t hold back a smirk. “I should drag you out into the storm by your ear for violating my wishes, boy, but I find myself impressed by your restraint—and your thoughtfulness toward your sister. That is why you may have more.”

  Danny grinned. “I changed my mind. You’re pretty cool.”

  “And all it took was some peanut butter?”

  “You mean the nectar of the gods?”

  “Nectar implies a liquid.”

  Danny shrugged and dipped the butter knife into the jar. “I could drink this stuff.” He smeared a bit on a cracker and held it out to Merrick.

  “No, thank you.” Merrick was hungry—more so than ever since reaching immortality, perhaps—but there was no food that could sate his current appetite.

  “So what’d you do? Before all this?” Danny took a bite of the cracker and released a satisfied hum.

  Leaning back in his chair, Merrick rested a forearm on the edge of the table. “I was an eccentric millionaire. Little has changed for me.”

  “Huh. So, your family was rich?”

  “No. I earned my fortune by my own toil.”

  “That’s what every rich person says,” Danny replied, “but it’s usually bullshit, right?”

  Merrick arched a brow. “Pardon me, young Daniel? Did you imply I’m being dishonest and use a word your sister would frown upon?” He reached toward the peanut butter jar. “Perhaps I misjudged your maturity…”

  “Aw man, not you too!” Danny grabbed the jar and pulled it closer. “Sorry, okay? Don’t tell Addy.”

  “I won’t. This time. What did you do before all this?”

  Danny smiled proudly. “I was a B student and played loads of soccer. Our team placed third in the state tournament. Another year, and I think we would’ve taken first. We had a really good team put together, you know?” He popped the rest of the cracker into his mouth.

  Despite the relative casualness in his tone, Danny’s passion and love for the sport came through in the way he spoke. It sounded like nothing had changed for the boy, like he was going to meet with his friends when the summer was over and get back to practicing, even though everything was different.

  Merrick had already glimpsed a deep-running strength in Adalynn; it seemed Danny possessed a similar quality.

  Though he couldn’t bring himself to mourn what humanity as a whole had lost, Merrick could sympathize with what these two humans—his humans?—had lost.

  “And what of your sister?” Merrick asked. “What did she do?”

  “Addy was a straight A student, graduated college with honors and all that. She’s been playing the piano since she was little, and she’s really good. She plays—well, played—in an orchestra and everything. She was always pushing her mu
sic, even when she had to work a day job to pay her bills. She always talked about playing a solo concert one day, and I know she would’ve made it, but she, uh…” Danny frowned, and pushed aside the crackers as though he’d suddenly lost his appetite. “She got sick. And then, you know, all this happened.”

  “Did she get sick immediately before everything fell apart?” Merrick asked, voice uncharacteristically soft.

  Danny shook his head. “I guess she was having headaches and stuff for a few months before she was diagnosed. The first doctor she went to said it was just migraines and basically told her to deal with them and take the medicine they gave her. It was different doctors a couple months later who figured it out, after her first seizure. That was like two months before everything went bad. They said she had brain cancer.”

  Merrick frowned deeply. He possessed only passing knowledge of the many ailments that plagued humanity, but he knew of cancer—it was amongst the more serious illnesses. Even if he’d never heard of it, he would’ve known that it would kill her—he’d felt it firsthand, had brushed against it with his magic, had felt her impending doom. And that troubled him greatly.

  Even if Adalynn had a chance of living to seventy or eighty years old—or however long it was humans lived these days—her life would have gone by in a blur for Merrick. As years built up behind him, the present seemed to move faster and faster. Humans were born, lived, and died while he simply persisted; the life of a single person being cut short was nothing new, was nothing unnatural.

  But he hated it in this case.

  “Were they working to heal her before the Sundering?” Merrick asked. Perhaps they’d been using some method he could replicate. Perhaps, with enough research, he could figure something out, could hone his magic into a refined, delicate blade to neatly slice the sickness out of her.