by Eva Chase
Malcolm’s fingers skimmed over my hair again. “Are you sure you’re safe? There’s no way the joymancers could have tracked you after you left?”
I shook my head. “I took care of that. At least, as far as I know, I did.” Although, while I couldn’t believe Deborah had misled me, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have been mistaken. And I hadn’t exactly been in the clearest mindset when I’d scanned myself.
I scooted back a little. “You could check me over for any sign of a spell just to be sure. My necklace should have illusion magic on it, but otherwise there shouldn’t be any.”
His gaze swept over me as he murmured a few casting words under his breath. After a minute, to my relief, he nodded. “You’re good. The bastards aren’t finding you that way.”
“Good.” I edged closer to Malcolm again, and he tucked his arm around my waist.
He paused before saying anything else. “I’m glad you came to me. I mean, I know you’d probably rather have had one of the other scions to turn to, but I want you to be able to rely on me now too. So… thank you for considering me-in-person to be at least a slightly better option than just texting the other guys.”
There was a certain amount of self-deprecation in his voice, but not enough to stop the sentiment from feeling genuine. And maybe he was right. Maybe I’d have hesitated less about asking for help if it’d been Declan or Jude or Connar here with me. But… they weren’t, and he was.
“You’re the one who insisted on being here,” I said. “That means something.” I paused. “I know I gave you a hard time about going behind my back to arrange it, but I’m glad you came. I’d have felt really alone right now otherwise.”
“Well, you’re definitely not that. I wish I could do more. What do you need from me?”
He asked the question so easily and simply that I suspected I could have made just about any request and he’d have done his best to fulfill it. With that offer, the past fell away, and I had no doubts at all about whether I could trust the guy next to me in every capacity.
But there wasn’t much I really wanted at the moment anyway, not that I could have. I wanted Deborah to still be alive. I wanted the pain inside to numb. I wasn’t going to get either of those things. Other than that… I was exhausted. And the thought of wobbling back to my room and collapsing onto the bed where I’d spoken with my familiar just hours ago turned the ache inside into a dagger.
“I need to sleep,” I said. “And if it’s okay with you, I’d rather not be alone for that either.”
Malcolm touched my cheek and leaned in to press a quick kiss to my forehead. I half expected another joke about having me in his bed, but apparently he took my pain a lot more seriously than he had his own.
“What’s mine is yours,” he said. “There’s plenty of room. Take as much as you want.”
He slid over to the other side of the bed, leaving space for me to crawl under the covers next to him. Maybe I should have felt awkward about this intimacy after how complicated things had been between us, but it seemed perfectly natural, if perhaps only because of how freaking tired I was. I lay my head down on the pillow and rested my hand on his arm. At that encouragement, he eased himself over so he could touch my waist in a partial embrace.
The warmth of his body spread beneath the covers to envelope me. I closed my eyes. The tearing sensation of the broken bond radiated through me, but my fatigue was even more potent. In just a few minutes, sleep pulled me under.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Malcolm
I’d never really shared a bed with anyone before. Even after five years mostly sleeping in my dorm, my reflexes from the many years in my parents’ houses before then kept me on high alert to any nearby disturbance.
It took me over an hour to get back to sleep with Rory beside me, every slight stirring of her body jolting me back into full awareness. Even after I adjusted enough to drift off, I jerked awake a few more times throughout the night without being completely certain why.
I’d just have to continue adjusting until I could really relax. Because I wanted to do this again, as many times as she’d come to me.
I woke up one last time at her shifting onto her back. A hint of sunlight peeked past the blackout curtain, and the clock read just past seven. I could tell I wasn’t getting any more sleep. That was fine. In the moment, I couldn’t think of any better way to spend my time than gazing at the girl dozing next to me.
Rory’s dark hair was strewn across the pillow in adorable disarray. Her face had softened as she slept, shedding most of the anguish that had tensed her features last night. Her brow had stayed slightly knit, though, and one hand had clenched against the center of her chest where I suspected the severed familiar bond must be hurting the most. A faint ache pulsed in the same spot on my body after spending nearly twenty-four hours across the country from my own familiar.
I should have felt annoyed that she’d gone running to the joymancers—that she’d still had enough trust in them to think it was worth the attempt. Maybe I was, a little. But at the same time, I was sharply aware of the fact that if the Bloodstone scion hadn’t kept such an open mind, hadn’t been willing to give even those who’d mistreated her the benefit of the doubt… there was no way she’d have been lying in my bed right now. So it was hard to resent that part of who she was.
The fact that she was here at all seemed like even more of a miracle than when she’d appeared in my bedroom while I’d been enduring my father’s punishment. I didn’t dare touch her in case I woke her from the rest she obviously needed—and because some part of me was ridiculously afraid she’d somehow vanish as if she’d never been here.
I’d earned this trust. I’d proven that I could make up for past mistakes. I had to keep reminding myself of that, because I suspected it was going to take a while before I fully believed I deserved her forgiveness.
I hadn’t moved, but Rory emerged back into consciousness with a yawn and a few blinks. She stared up at the ceiling with a frown that looked puzzled for a second before it tightened with renewed pain. Her throat worked as she turned toward me.
“Good morning,” I said, even though it didn’t appear to be all that good as far as she was concerned. “How’re you doing?”
She swiped her hair back from her eyes and rubbed her mouth. “Still feel like shit. Both emotionally and physically. But it’s probably not quite as intense as last night.” She dragged in a breath and let it out equally slowly. Her deep blue eyes brightened a little as she gazed back at me. “Thank you for talking me through it. For letting me stay.”
“You’re welcome, although that didn’t exactly require Herculean effort,” I said. What did was refraining from pulling her to me and finding out whether I could kiss some of the discomfort off her beautiful face.
To my great joy, I didn’t have to. Rory scooted closer under the covers, setting her hand on the side of my bare abdomen with an instant flare of heat, and tipped her head to bring her mouth to mine.
My body lit up from crown to soles, desire unfurling through me in a flood. I cupped her jaw and kissed her back the way I’d wished I could the other time she’d lain in a bed next to me. Her fingers traced over my abs, and I had to tamp down on a groan. My cock was half hard already.
Rory looped her other arm around my neck, bringing our bodies flush against each other. She devoured my mouth, her tongue searing hot, her hips straining against mine, and I was hard as marble now. It took all my self-control not to roll on top of her and strip every scrap of clothing off her right then. She was giving every indication of wanting me to do that… but I couldn’t shake the image of her pained frown, of her hand clenched against her chest.
Rory caressed the planes of my torso again, her fingers like licks of flame, and I did groan then. For a second I couldn’t focus on anything but the heat of her exactly the way I’d wanted her for so long.
But I was a goddamned scion. I wasn’t going to be ruled by my dick.
I forced myself
She grimaced, possibly at both the question and my use of her last name. “I don’t think I’m being all that subtle about it. Isn’t this what you wanted to do?”
My proposition yesterday. And yes, I had wanted to get her moaning in my bed, but that’d been before everything she’d gone through last night.
“I remember that,” I said with a raise of my eyebrows. “I want to know why you’re up for it all of a sudden.”
She ducked her head with a flush in her cheeks that brought out both my protective instinct and a fresh stirring of lust. “I want to feel something other than… this,” she said, pressing her hand to that spot on her chest. “Just for a little while. Something that doesn’t hurt.”
Ah. I’d been afraid of that. A Nightwood—or this Nightwood, anyway—had higher standards.
Keeping a tight rein on my desires, I touched her chin to nudge her gaze to meet mine. “I get it, Rory,” I said. “But when we do this the first time, I want it to be because you can’t stand the thought of not having sex with me right this instant. No reasons beyond what’s happening between you and me. No room for doubts or regrets afterward. All right?”
The color in her cheeks darkened with obvious embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
She started to scoot away from me, but I caught her by the waist, still holding her gaze. “Hey. I’m not upset. And if we’d already crossed that bridge before, I’d happily have taken the opportunity to escape everything else for a while.”
Rory’s shirt had ridden up while we’d made out. My fingers rested against bare skin. My cock twitched, and fuck, I wasn’t that much of a saint. A little indulgence wouldn’t be so terrible.
I eased those fingers farther up, under her shirt, watching her expression. “There are still other ways I could help distract you. If you’d like.”
Rory wet her lips. The gleam came back into her eyes. As my hand reached her breast, she arched into my caress. I stroked my thumb over the curve of her flesh, pressing harder over the nipple, and her breath caught. Then she dove in to kiss me again.
The kissing made it harder for me to keep my head, but I left a little distance between our bodies, fondling one breast and then the other until Rory made a mewling, desperate sound against my mouth that just about made me come without any contact down below.
As much as I wanted to taste the rest of her, I didn’t think pushing things that far would be wise for sticking to my principles. So I focused on kissing her mouth with all the heat and desire I had in me while trailing my hand down to the waist of her pants.
She inhaled shakily as I dipped my fingers under the fabric. I teased them over the thin layer of her panties and then under that as well.
She was so fucking wet I could have exploded. I flicked my thumb over her clit, and her head tipped back from mine with a ragged sound. It turned out I got to have the heir of Bloodstone moaning in bed with me after all.
I might not have spread around my talents quite as far as Jude did, but I’d had a fling here and there over the years when I’d been sure the girl and I were on the same page—that her interest wasn’t just some ploy to hook a scion. And I’d aimed to keep my reputation between the sheets as solid as everywhere else. I definitely didn’t deserve this girl if I couldn’t make her come.
I worked her over gently at first, noting every hitch of breath, every flutter of her eyelids, every hungry sound. It didn’t take long to see exactly where to apply pressure and how deep to slip my fingers inside her to start her trembling.
Her hand wrapped around my arm, clutching me but not in any attempt to stop me. Just holding on as I took her on this ride. My cock couldn’t have been harder, and my groin was aching seeing her losing herself to pleasure, but I could survive that. This, right now, was all about her.
I pressed a little harder, plunged inside her a little faster, and a cry broke from her throat. I couldn’t say I’d ever felt anything like the blaze of triumph that washed through me as her body clenched around my fingers and then sagged with its release.
She reached for my face and drew me to her for a kiss that was still just as hot, but this time long and lingering.
“Did that do the trick?” I murmured by her ear afterward.
“Exactly what I needed,” she said with a smile that was almost giddy, but the corners of it had already started to tighten again. What I’d offered really had been only a distraction. The deeper pain couldn’t be fingered or fucked away.
My cock was still hard as anything. I was trying to figure out how exactly I was going to manage to peel myself away from her when a knock sounded from beyond the hotel room door. Not on my door, though. It had to be someone at the room across from mine.
Rory tensed. With the second knock, a muffled voice carried to us. “Miss Bloodstone?”
The blacksuits must have come to call on her.
She sat up, straightening her clothes, combing her fingers through her hair, and froze. “It wouldn’t be good if they realize I was in here with you, would it? Someone would tell your father.”
There were plenty of practical reasons to keep our more intimate involvement a secret. In the first instant, I wanted to give all of them the finger and announce my adoration to the world. Only the first instant, though. The last thing Rory needed was for me to make my father even more intent on breaking her down.
I hopped out of bed and grabbed a pair of slacks out of my suitcase. “No problem. Tell them you just came over to join me for a room service breakfast. Friendliness between scions. No one likes to eat alone.”
I picked up the hotel phone and managed to place a hasty order to support that story while fumbling into a shirt. Rory jerked the bedcovers straight and gave herself a once-over in the mirror before heading for the door. She appeared to have accepted my idea, but she didn’t look all that much less tense. I guessed she couldn’t be looking forward to hearing whatever updates the blacksuits had for her.
She glanced over at me as she reached for the handle, confirming I’d pulled myself together. I ambled over to the little table in the corner and dropped into one of the chairs as if we’d just been sitting there talking while we waited for our order. Rory exhaled audibly and tugged open the door.
The blacksuits in the hall had been in the middle of calling out to her again. The voice cut off as the speaker must have seen her.
“Sorry,” Rory said, with a determined calm that only made me admire her more. “I was just going to have breakfast with Malcolm. It seemed silly to eat by myself. Has something happened with my mother—or the joymancers?”
The voice that answered her wasn’t the one that’d been calling at her door. “We haven’t taken any definitive action since we last spoke,” the woman said, equally calmly. “I wanted to make sure you’ve recovered from the final ceremony without any issues, and I thought you’d like an update on our plans.”
That was Lillian Ravenguard. Rory’s mother’s best friend. My father’s co-conspirator. My jaw clenched, any lingering arousal from my interlude with Rory deflating.
“Of course,” Rory said. “There’s actually something I need to discuss with you about those plans. Why don’t you come in here, since Malcolm might as well hear this too, and we’re waiting on that breakfast anyway?”
What was she planning on pitching to the blacksuits now? By her own admission, her attempt at initiating a negotiation with the joymancers had failed. She hadn’t mentioned any other schemes. I gave her a quick curious glance as she turned toward me, but I had to pull my expression into a mask of casual benevolence at the sight of Ravenguard and the two blacksuit lackeys who’d come with her.
The woman took in my pose at the table, the unrumpled bed, and Rory as if evaluating her story. She might wonder if we’d actually been together for more than breakfast, but I thought we’d composed ourselves pretty well. Rory had changed for her nighttime adventures, so she was even in a different outfit from what the blacksuits would have seen her in before. No walk-of-shame yesterday’s-clothing giveaway there.
Rory sat down at the table across from me, and Ravenguard pulled out the chair from the desk to face her. The other two blacksuits stayed standing, like sentries, by the door.
“We know exactly which building your mother is in now, and we’ve identified the magical defenses around it,” Ravenguard said. “There has been increased joymancer activity around the place this morning, but nothing we can’t overcome. They may have caught a hint of our presence.”
Rory’s mouth twitched as if she’d resisted biting her lip. She kept her voice steady. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Through my… past associations with the joymancers, I’ve been able to find out some of their intentions. They’re going to move my mother to a different location today, before they expect your attack.”
Ravenguard stared at her. I stared at her. How had she managed to determine that—and where the hell was she going with it?
“How would you know this?” the blacksuit demanded.
Rory gave her a weary smile. “I remembered an old friend of my parents. It occurred to me that I could use them to sway the joymancers’ strategy. I made sure I didn’t give away anything that wouldn’t work in our favor.”
“You should have consulted with me first.”
“It was a brief opportunity. There wasn’t time. I’m sorry about that.” Rory nodded toward the door. “I assume you’ll want to get a new plan in motion as quickly as possible. The joymancers think our forces will have pulled back around noon, leaving only spells to monitor the building. That’s when they’ll make a run for it. But that also makes it the perfect chance for you to strike. You wait until they’re on the move, and then you can ambush them somewhere out in the open while they’re less able to defend themselves. That’s better for us, isn’t it?”
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