by Annika James
As I flopped to my back for the hundredth time, a noise at my window froze me. I reached out with my senses as another tap came at the glass. Would Tre break into my house? The window slid open and terror washed over me as I sucked in a breath to scream.
“Ash?” Conor whispered.
I sat up, air whooshing out of me.
“Conor?” I watched him crawl through the window and stand in the middle of my room, in the dark.
Glancing at the glowing numbers of my bedside clock, I saw it was almost one o’clock.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered in shock, clutching my covers to my chest. I wore my customary PJs of boxer shorts and tank top, and felt strangely exposed.
He stood at the side of the bed, looming over me, eyes intense in the glow of the clock.
“I just fed. I—needed to see you.” His voice was ragged as he reached for me, pulling me out of bed to stand in front of him.
“I need you,” he whispered before he kissed me. His mouth demanded my lips, his hands hot and needy on my skin. His passion stunned me, freezing me for a moment before my body melted against his, arms wrapping around him. A soft groan came from him and he pushed me gently backward onto the bed. Our mouths drank at each other.
He lay next to me, pulling me tight to him, and buried his face in my neck. I held him as he struggled to slow his breathing.
“I don’t want to ever do that again,” he moaned.
“What?”
He raised his face to hover just centimeters from mine. He brushed hair off my face.
“Feed from someone else,” he explained. “I don’t want to ever feed from someone who isn’t you, ever.”
I cupped his cheek. “Okay. You won’t have to. What happened?” I dreaded the answer.
“Nothing. It just felt wrong. I had to see you, feel you. I have to erase the taste of her from my mouth.”
My stomach tightened at the word “her.” I pulled his face to mine. “Let’s make sure she’s thoroughly erased.” I kissed him, hands on his face, fingers buried in his hair.
He pulled my leg over his, pressing us even closer together, his hand scorching on my bare skin. My pulse pounded in my ears, rapid and strong. It was soon joined with another beat, faster, stronger: Conor’s.
It only took a moment before they beat out the same rhythm, and I knew nothing except Conor. His mouth on mine, his hands on my skin, his warmth surrounding me, my hands on his waist. I buried myself in his face, his chest, his skin smooth, warm, and solid.
We continued, lost, for what seemed like eternity before he broke the connection, gasping. He rested his forehead on mine, eyes closed. I could just glimpse the tips of his fangs, and for some reason, that made my heart beat faster. I wanted him to bite me, right here, right now. Maybe if he just distracted me enough, my subconscious would let him do it.
“I’m glad you picked me,” he whispered. “I think you’re a part of my soul. If you hadn’t chosen me, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
I entwined our fingers, squeezing gently. “I honestly don’t think there was ever a doubt I wanted to pick you. I was just afraid you didn’t really like me.”
Conor narrowed his eyes at me. “Center yourself and concentrate.”
I closed my eyes and obeyed, his soft voice soothing me. “Go deep, to your core. What do you feel?”
It was hard to focus with his body next to mine, his hands on my skin. I took deep breaths and forced myself to ignore the heat from his nearness, the overwhelming sensations of him lying in my bed next to me.
Our heartbeats remained merged and I relished in the sound, letting the rhythm pull me deeper, to my core, where my heart beat. I felt almost complete, almost whole, almost fulfilled. He was so much of what made me feel so close to whole, yet I noticed there was something missing, something I had yet to find. I didn’t want to focus on the missing part, though. I wanted to focus on how much a part of me Conor so obviously was.
“Yes,” he whispered, our noses touching.
My eyes fluttered open to see his. “What’s the missing part?”
His eyebrows drew together in thought. “Not sure. I figured it would fill in when we completed the familiar bond.”
That made sense. He kissed me gently and eased himself off the bed, leaving me cold. “I better go. I’m going to school in the morning, but I’ll be here to spend the afternoon to help you, okay?”
I sat up and nodded. “Are you better?” I wanted to make sure he was okay before he left.
He sighed and smiled, running a hand over his hair. “Yes. All I needed was you. The next person I feed from will be you. And you’ll be the last. I hope you can stand me for that long,” he teased.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, totally. I hope I don’t get bored.” I laughed at him.
“I’ll do my best,” he promised. “See you tomorrow.” He left the way he came, through the window. I burrowed under the covers and discovered it was a lot easier to sleep.
* * * *
The fire blazed in Conor’s library, bathing the room in soft, orange light. I stood, gazing into the flames, in a dress the color of Conor’s eyes. My hair was piled on top of my head, neck bare.
“Are you ready?” Conor’s voice caressed my skin, making me shiver, even in the warmth of the fire. Pretty sure I’d had this same dream before.
I turned with an anticipatory smile, but froze as I spied both Conor and Matt standing before me, waiting. For some amazing reason, the boys were shirtless. Conor stood tall, all long and lean sculpted muscles. Matt was broader, more built, a little more sculpted. Okay, so not the same dream.
My breath caught in my throat at the sight of my two boys before me. Both of whom I loved, in different ways. I appreciated the beauty of each of them. Still, I was confused.
“What?” I didn’t even know what to ask. Matt pierced me with the gaze of his blue eyes and moved to stand behind me, his warmth so familiar.
“It won’t hurt, I promise,” he whispered in my right ear, and I eased. I believed him, my soul believed him. The calm acceptance that seeped through my body, relaxing me and warming me, made me aware that Matt belonged here in this moment. It had such a sense of rightness.
I looked down abruptly as his warm hand grasped my waist. When I looked up, Conor had moved to stand directly in front of me. He smiled a grin full of promise, seduction, anticipation. His hand gripped my other hip and I was encased in warmth from the two boys.
Conor leaned to my left and I cried out as two pairs of fangs pierced my skin at the same time. Oh, they’d been right. It felt—amazing, like nothing I’d ever experienced. My knees gave out and I sank bonelessly against Matt’s strong chest. I grasped at Conor to help me stay upright as they both drank from me, one strong body in front of me, one behind. Waves of ecstasy wracked my body and I was weightless.
My heartbeat merged with Conor’s again and they beat as one. Now, a third joined our rhythm as Matt’s pulse added a deeper, stronger beat to mine and Conor’s music. I was wrapped up in between my two boys, the three of us making a complete whole. Finally.
* * * *
My eyes flew open with the shrill screams of my alarm. I shot up in bed, suddenly wide awake.
“Holy shit,” I muttered, remembering the details of the dream. The scene, the boys, the feel of them, the pleasure. Sweat poured from my skin, yet I shivered. What the hell did that dream mean? Why did I dream I was in a vampire threesome with Conor and Matt, both half-naked? No more making out before bedtime.
My body reacted to the sensations of the dream: pulse racing, panting breaths. It was just a dream, just a dream, I told myself, willing my body to calm. I looked at the clock, knowing my parents would be up and almost ready to leave. I got out my dream journal and filled in the eerie details of my latest nocturnal freak out.
During dinner the previous night, my mom and I had filled my dad in on everything. He seemed to take it better than Mom had, assuring her it was probably the best thi
ng for me. I was so relieved, having been afraid Dad would try to greet Conor with a shotgun the next time he came over. Actually, I wasn’t sure Dad even owned a gun, but he was a strong enough witch to do harm without needing physical weapons.
I hopped out of bed and jogged down the stairs, trying to leave the remnants of the befuddling dream behind. My parents puttered in the kitchen, getting ready to leave. Gabby sat at the table, sleepily eating her cereal. Mom looked up as I entered.
“Morning, baby.” She smiled at me. I blushed, hoping she couldn’t tell Conor had snuck into my room last night or that I’d had a crazy, totally inappropriate dream.
“Morning,” I murmured, going to the fridge.
Dad kissed my head. “Ma brought some books down for you that will help you with your control, okay? Study hard. I love you.” He ruffled my hair before leaving the kitchen.
Mom hugged me. “We’re behind you, sweetheart. I know you’ll be fine. Okay?” She pulled back to look me in the eyes, smoothing my hair. It seemed she was on board the Ashlinn becomes a familiar train. Yay, me. It would be easier, though, with her on my side.
I nodded. “Thanks, Mom. Um, Conor’s probably going to come over this afternoon to help me, okay?”
She hesitated. “Work downstairs, please? I’m just not ready for you to have boys in your bedroom when we’re not here.” She smiled.
I blushed again, remembering him being in my room last night. “Okay, Ma. Promise.” I laughed. She gathered Gabby and left, and I was alone with the images from my dream still flashing through my mind.
* * * *
I spent all day working on my control. I centered, grounded, and relaxed, concentrating on my power center. When Conor came over, I continued with more of the same. It wasn’t as easy with him sitting in the same room. When he leaned in and breathed on me, things flew. Literally. My book whipped up and soared across the room. Yeah. I needed more practice.
We moved all breakables out of the room and resumed my exercises. Once I could ground and center without him distracting me, I worked on manipulating things around me, levitating various non-fragile items from around the room. Every time Conor got close, the floating object went out of control.
By dinnertime, my body ached with fatigue and my brain felt like mush from all the concentrating. My mom and dad had come home from work, checked in on us, and left us alone. Now, Mom stuck her head in the family room.
“Ash, Conor, I made dinner. Take a break.”
I stood and stretched, working out the tightness in my muscles. Conor stood next to me and massaged the muscles in my shoulders with his strong fingers. Sighing, I relaxed into his hands as we moved awkwardly toward the kitchen.
“You did good today,” he murmured. “I’m proud of you. At the end there, you actually floated the pillow for five whole seconds before it attacked me.”
“You kissed me. That was totally unfair,” I protested.
We laughed as we joined my family at the kitchen table.
“I had to push you. Tomorrow night will be even worse.” His laughter cut off abruptly as his smile faded.
My parents exchanged a look, though they remained quiet as we ate. I hadn’t heard from Matt all day, which surprised me. Maybe he was giving me time. However, I couldn’t think of him without thinking of that crazy dream I’d had—which I had not told Conor about—so I was kind of glad for Matt’s radio silence.
Cora had texted me throughout the day, demanding updates on my progress. She was being so awesome, and I insisted she be with me the next night when everything went down.
When dinner was over, Conor and I helped clear the table. Walking to the sink, I stumbled slightly, running into Conor and almost dropping my plate.
“Whoa.” He steadied me, setting the dishes he carried on the counter. “You worked hard, you must be exhausted.” He took my plate and guided me back to a chair. My heavy eyelids fluttered and my muscles refused to work. Maybe I should just go to bed.
Mom put a hand on my face and stared into my eyes. “You’re completely depleted, Ashlinn. You need bed now. You can resume your work tomorrow.”
Numbly, I nodded and tried to stand. My body refused to cooperate and I slumped farther into the chair instead. My dad picked me up and carried me up the stairs.
“G’night, Conor.” I mumbled, watching him through half-closed eyes.
He smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And then all I knew was sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Friday was more of the same. After sleeping in, showering, and eating breakfast, I dove right into levitating and controlling objects with my power. It was a little freaky to see it work. Usually, my power was just there, in me, without any physical manifestation. However my ability to float stuff around the room was pretty telling as to the strength of my power.
I was doing well until Conor showed up right after lunchtime. After the third pillow whacked me in the face, I swore.
“I need a break,” I declared, standing and stretching my aching muscles. Why couldn’t I get this down? Granted, Conor had been kissing my neck before I’d gotten a face full of pillow, but I was still frustrated he made me lose control. In a few hours, he was going to be biting me, and I needed to know I wasn’t going to shoot him across the room. So far, that wasn’t happening. Epic. Fail.
Stomping up the stairs, I went to my room to check my phone. Matt had finally texted me.
How’s it going? U ready 4 2nite?
I heaved a sigh and checked my reflection in the mirror over my dresser. My eyes shone a shocking blue, instead of the cornflower color I saw every other day. Wisps of hair had escaped my ponytail and stuck out around my head. My cheeks were flushed and my skin almost glowed. Is that what using my power did to me? I almost looked…pretty…in a messy, just-out-of-bed kind of way. I was kind of awed by my reflection. What would Matt think when I told him I was failing? Might as well tell him the truth.
Crappy. I suck.
While I waited for his reply, I took my hair out and remade my ponytail so it was smoother and less messy.
I’m coming over.
Why did Matt think he would be able to help? As I thought it over more, I found the tension easing out of my body. My muscles relaxed and calm snuck in. Okay, so the thought of Matt being here calmed me. How telling was that? Really not wanting to think about it too hard, I put my phone down and went back downstairs to rejoin Conor.
He was perched on the couch, flipping through channels on the TV. I paused in the doorway to the family room and watched him for a moment.
Even in profile, he was achingly beautiful. His black hair was in disarray, falling onto his cheek, obscuring his eyes from me. It just added to his sexiness. His cheekbones were high and pronounced, nose straight and sharp, and his lips so full and kissable, even from this distance. The muscles bulged in his strong forearms and led to biceps that stretched the material of his T-shirt. He wasn’t an athlete, why was he so strong?
Finally sensing my presence, he turned his gaze to me. I shifted from one foot to the other, a little embarrassed to be caught staring. Clearing my throat, I walked farther into the room.
“Matt says he’s coming over,” I told him apologetically.
One eyebrow raised, he quirked a grin at me. “It could work,” was all he said. I was distracted by his fingers smoothing over the buttons on the remote, just stroking them. His fingers were long, strong, sure. My face grew warm and I shivered with excitement. Conor’s low chuckle washed over me as he stood, unfolding his lean muscles from the couch.
“Ah,” I stumbled over words. “Do you want a drink, or snacks or something?”
I studied his feet as he walked closer to me. When he stood just a few feet from me, I forced my gaze upward. His head was cocked to the side and his green eyes studied me, mouth pulled into a slight frown.
“Water would be fine,” he murmured.
Overwhelmed by my body’s reaction to him, I simply nodded before turning toward the kitche
n. Conor followed me. Once I could busy myself with filling glasses and finding some pretzels, I calmed slightly.
Matt must have texted me on the way out of school, because I heard the front door open sooner than I expected. “Ash.” His low voice echoed through the house.
“In the kitchen,” I called back in a normal tone. He’d be able to hear me, wherever I was in the house.
He walked in and the tension left the room. Again, I was amazed at how simply his presence calmed me. The boys nodded to each other in greeting before Matt turned a fierce gaze on me.
“You have to get this down.” His tone was serious and demanding, it frightened me a little. He made it sound like life or death.
“I know, I know.” I handed Conor his glass of water and a bowl of pretzels. “I’m working on it.” I was afraid I would end up as exhausted as I had the night before. The last thing I wanted to do that night—besides throw Conor around—was to pass out before the damn thing could even happen.
Conor watched us with one eyebrow raised, a half-grin playing on his face, like he knew something and just waited for everyone else to notice. I looked at him in question, but he took a drink as he moved toward the doorway muttering, “I’ll be in the family room.”
Left alone with Matt, I focused for the first time since he’d come in. He was still Matt, baggy jeans slouched over athletic shoes and a polo stretched tight over his chest and shoulders. Its light blue color deepened the blue of his eyes. His skin was a pale golden color, the freckles on his nose and cheeks slightly darker, and his sandy brown hair was artfully arranged.
“Matt, did you use hair gel today?” My voice was full of wonder as I stepped closer, examining the top of his head.
He blushed and tried to move away. “Yeah, I, uh, kinda have a date tonight.”
What was that strange feeling in my stomach? It felt like a small fist was slowly squeezing my insides. I so did not want to go there. Instead, I forced a smile and patted his shoulder. “Nice, buddy. I’m so proud. You taking Megan, then? Finally tell her you’re a vamp?”
