“Do you have a plan?”
“I do.” Coriander nodded more emphatically.
“Consisting of?” Coriander could be just a shade shy of evil when she wanted to be.
“Not ready to tell you yet. But you’ll see. Now, back to you and Morningstar. You’re not getting out of spilling your guts.”
She took a breath. “But, you know, I find it telling you’re more willing to talk about making out with Lila Darkend than you are about Morningstar. Don’t tell me you’re having feelings?”
“Of course not! Why would I go and cock up my life by doing something as stupid as to have feelings for the heir of all evil?” Caraway wrinkled her nose. “He’s just a lay. Albeit a very good lay, but nonetheless it’s only physical.”
“Some witches can’t tell the difference between love and sex. It’s okay if you’re one of them. He might actually make you happy.” Coriander narrowed her eyes. “He’d make me happy, too.”
“How’s that?” Caraway was almost afraid of the answer.
“How do you think?” She winked. “No, but seriously, have you considered the implications for Hexes & Haunts if one of the proprietors had a direct line to all of Morningstar’s power?”
“He’s engaged to Lila. So I’m sure if we did have anything, it would be on the down-low.”
“Why? She doesn’t care.”
“You know things aren’t done that way. As forward thinking and permissive as magical folk can be, there are some traditions you just don’t shit on.”
“Or Brody on,” Coriander deadpanned.
“You’re so wicked,” Caraway managed through another fit of giggles.
“That’s why you’re going to tell me more about Morningstar.”
“Fine. Merlin! Shut your gob so I can get there, ‘kay?”
Coriander fidgeted for a moment before widening her eyes and giving Cara a pointed look that indicated she should get to it.
“Okay, so anyway. After Brody showed up, I left. Alexander actually came after me and demanded I finish what I started.” She bit her lip, remembering every detail. Caraway sighed, unsure of what else to share. It seemed wrong to tell her everything. This belonged only to her and Alexander right now—if she told Coriander, it was like giving a piece of it away.
But that kind of thinking...it led to other thoughts.
Thoughts of how long it would last. And those things shouldn’t matter to her. Not if she was only in it for the physical—and, no mistake, that’s all she wanted. Wasn’t it?
“Oh Hell, Cous. You look like a moon-eyed calf on dragon’s blood ale. You’re stupid for him!”
“Shut the fuck up, I am not.” Caraway was heartily offended. She studied her cousin intently, debating what to say next, when she saw it. A bit of pink glitter on the corner of her mouth. She pursed her lips and realised Coriander smelt like cherries. “Why do you smell like cherries?”
Coriander blushed. “Uh.”
“Uh? Uh, what? What did you do?”
“It’s part of my revenge plot,” she replied primly.
“It’s pink, Coriander. Pink.”
“Fine. Clarabelle the Valentine fairy does not, in fact, shoot glitter from her quim when she has it off.” Coriander blushed.
“I decided to steal her from Brody the Toady and see how he liked it.”
“But, he’s more into men than women. So, he’s not going to care.”
“Oh yeah, he most definitely will care. Our Clarabelle has a secret.” Coriander’s lips curled up into a smile.
“What, she has a dick?” Caraway rolled her eyes and laughed, but when Coriander didn’t laugh with her, Cara goggled. “Are you serious?”
“It’s the damnedest thing, Cara.” Coriander shook her head in a daze. “I’d heard certain fey races had this ability, but I...”
“But you what?”
“I guess I didn’t believe it. They call it being dual-sexed. She can choose which of her organs are dominant.”
“I think I’m jealous,” Cara said. Cocks were easy, while the clit seemed to be one of the Great Mysteries, much to her dismay.
“Me, too. If I had a cock, I’d put it everywhere. I’d just whip it out and slap people with my great big penis.” They giggled again. “It isn’t like Clarabelle the female just has a cock—she actually became male. I’m so ashamed to say, she was hot as a man.”
“Why are you ashamed? You’re not ashamed to say you fucked her. Him. Whatever.”
“Because I’m supposed to hate her for you. This is supposed to be a case of simple, easy revenge.”
“Doll, I think we both know revenge might sometimes be easy, but it’s rarely simple.”
“So you wouldn’t hate me if I did it again? Because I want to, and not just to stick in Brody the Toady’s craw?” Coriander asked quietly.
“No, not at all. Clarabelle seems dumber than a post, but what happened with Brody the Toady wasn’t her fault.”
“She doesn’t have to be smart to know how to use that cock.”
“And I’m going back for more, too,” Caraway confessed. “I may even hook up with Lila, just because.” And to prove to herself she wasn’t getting in any way attached to Morningstar. “But next time, at least take a shower before you rub Valentine fairy glitter all over my bed.”
“Yeah, well next time you come sneaking in here like a dirty tart, you hit the showers too. You smell like brimstone. Or is it burning leaves?” Coriander shoved her playfully.
“Deal. And, if you bring her back here, don’t do it on my bed. I can’t abide glitter.”
“Where else would we do it? I don’t want it on my bed, either.” Coriander laughed.
“I guess you’ll just have to use the floor.”
“A bit of rough?” Cori raised a brow.
“Is there anything better?”
“No, I don’t think there is. Except for maybe a bottle of Rosa Regale and some Harpy Fudge.”
Caraway gave a conspiratorial grin and snapped her fingers twice. She suddenly had two glasses of Rosa Regale and a giant box of Harpy Fudge. “A toast?”
“To Wormwoods and sexcapades?”
“Most definitely.” They clinked their glasses together.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Nine
* * * *
Caraway saw Brody leaning against a column and resolved to go the other way.
“Hey!”
Okay, it could have been directed at anyone. Just don’t turn around, and keep walking.
Her feelings were still too convoluted to talk to him—really talk to him without the sniping and the snapping. And she wasn’t up to putting on a happy face. Furthermore, fuck him.
Why should she?
“Caraway.”
Hell.
“You avoid me like the plague and now you’re stuck to my ass like a rash. What?”
Brody looked as if she’d physically cut him.
Good.
He deserved it.
“Well? I don’t have all day—I do have class. Unlike some trolls who get passed because of how well they can kick a ball.”
“I thought we could talk about what happened.”
“Brody, I don’t want to do this here, now. Maybe not ever. It’s over between us. What else is there?” Caraway turned sharply. “Oh, your conscience. Hmm. Now that’s your bitch. Not mine.”
Brody reached out to grab her.
She looked at him as if he was dragon shit. “Don’t ever touch me. You no longer have that privilege.”
“What if I want it back?”
Really? Had he dared to say that to her? “You don’t know what you want.” He opened his mouth to interrupt her, but she held up her hand. “But I do. Know what I want. It’s not you.” She motioned to the space between them. “And it’s not this.”
“Then what do you have to lose by talking to me?”
“Nothing. But I have nothing to gain, either—therefore it’s a waste of my time.”
&nbs
p; “You sound like a dark-sider.” An accusation.
“Is that supposed to mean something stellar? Am I supposed to cry now?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Please, Caraway.”
“Will you sod off, then? Leave me alone?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s get this over with.” She started walking.
Brody followed after her in silence and, while a lack of shit issuing forth from his suckhole was theoretically a good thing, Caraway was ready for this to be over. The sooner he said what he needed to say, the sooner he could leave her alone.
She needed to graduate, to open up Hexes & Haunts with Coriander and go about the business of living her life.
In that whole plan, there was no mention of Brody Bendopolous.
She didn’t know anywhere they could talk without the whole campus stopping to gawk, except for the Professors’
Lounge. Cara knew she ran the risk of running into Alexander there, but she’d have to talk to him eventually. Not only because he was the TA for Advanced Hexacology, but because the one time with him hadn’t been enough. Caraway wanted more.
The witch felt her way through the hedges around the building’s north wall and found the lever she was looking for.
She twisted the mermaid’s tail on the hidden statue and a door creaked open.
She led Brody through the door and grinned when he bumped his head on the low-hanging ceiling of the secret tunnel.
“Son of a succubus, that hurt!”
Caraway managed to keep her snide comments to herself, but only because she didn’t want to argue with him. A door opened ahead of them and they emerged in the Professors’
Lounge.
“So, talk.” She flopped down on a ready couch.
“I was scared...” he began.
“Okay, I’ll buy that. But why couldn’t you just have told me, Brody?”
“I didn’t think you would understand. I didn’t mean for you to find out that way. It just...” He shrugged helplessly.
They looked at each other in silence for a long moment.
“I still can’t trust you. You lied to me.”
“Let me show you, let me be with you again.”
“We’re done. I’m ready for something else.”
Brody pursed his lips. “Morningstar.”
“Yeah. Morningstar.” She nodded.
“He will never love you.”
“Neither will you.” Her words weren’t bitter. It was a revelation—an arc of truth even as it fell, heavy.
“I care about you. I do. I just didn’t know it.”
“You cared about me so much that you fucked Lila, after professing your nancyhood, knowing I left because seeing you hurt me?”
“Yes, but that’s what I needed...”
“Back to that again.”
“Look, think about it, okay? Have your shag with Alexander, if that’s what you need, but come back to me.”
Caraway sighed, but was on her feet with a sharpness that betrayed her. “What about Clarabelle?”
“What about her? The three of us could be happy together,” Brody suggested.
Caraway had to admit the idea of Clarabelle excited her, but not the fairy herself. She really wished Brody would make up his mind. Not because she wanted him, because she didn’t. But he was going to hurt other people in his self-centred process of fucking everything with feet to determine exactly what it was he was after. “Prove it. Prove that you want me.”
The very real evidence of his desire was pressed against her stomach and Brody’s hands were suddenly everywhere, touching her almost reverently, like a coveted prize.
“You only want me because you can’t have me.”
“Can’t I, Cara?”
“No, you can’t.” She pulled away from him.
A new voice intruded on their privacy. “If you have to ask...” He let it trail off.
Alexander stood in the door, a disdainful smirk etched on his features.
“Do you never knock?” Brody growled.
“Once again, too much like asking.” His presence filled the room and the door snapped shut behind him. He deposited a stack of books on a table.
“What are you doing here, Morningstar?” Caraway eyed him, then realised it was a stupid question. This was the Professors’ Lounge and he was the TA for Hexacology.
“I think we can dispense with the surnames.” His eyes burnt into her, as if the entire world had gone—in all of existence, it was only the two of them. “As to what I’m doing...” He let it hang.
“I see what you’re about and I already told you, I’m not doing it.” She shivered. Who was she kidding? She wanted him again, and two powerful males were her number one fantasy. What did it matter if one of them was Brody? He was safe. He knew her body, she knew his. He’d only be there for background, anyway.
“I think you are, Cara,” Alexander said softly.
The way he said her name made her shiver, his honeyed tongue a scorpion sting—his entry deceptively soft. He closed the distance between them, every step measured, every look contrived to get her on her back.
Alexander turned his head to look at Brody. “Get with the programme, Bendopolous.”
Before Caraway could question it, or protest, Alexander’s mouth was on hers, demanding her complete submission.
What could she do but comply?
She melted against his strength, let his essence surround and invade her very soul. Caraway couldn’t get close enough to him, couldn’t get enough of his heat, although she was already on fire. Her fingers slid up the nape of his neck and threaded through the midnight silk of his hair.
Alexander broke the kiss, but did not retreat. “What do you want?”
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please what, sweet Caraway?” He dipped his head for another taste of her lips. “Please no?” His hand slid down her spine, then back up again, tangling in her hair and angling her head back.
“Please stop?” he taunted her.
Alexander slid his other hand down the elegant arch of her throat, down to her breast, and he filled his hand with her flesh.
“Or please fuck me?”
She nodded wordlessly.
“How should I fuck you, Caraway?”
Caraway had been biting her lip, unable—no, unwilling to utter those words he sought to elicit from her.
“Hard.” Her voice was husky, thick with her lust.
Still holding her immobile, he produced a wand, his by right of his warlock heritage, and touched it to her cheek, trailing it down her neck, between the valley of her breasts, down to her navel and whispered, “ Patesco. “
Her dress fell from her in tatters, revealing only white, lacy knickers beneath.
Alexander turned again to Brody and raised a perfect brow in an oh-so put-upon fashion. Brody moved behind Caraway, pulling her to rest against him. She sought to put her arms around Alexander again, but he caught her wrist in his hand and eased it behind her back.
She met Alexander’s eyes, a bit wary. But the controlled burn she saw there eased her, and Brody now held both of her wrists behind her back—leaving them both completely at Alexander’s mercy.
The dark-sider trailed his wand over bare and flushed skin, the smooth and gleaming wood barely a touch, until he slid the tip just under the lace of her knickers.
Caraway gasped and was about to protest when Brody turned her mouth to his. She relaxed into him, his body familiar, but his touch was new—infused with a fierceness she’d never expected. He ravaged her mouth, seeking and claiming.
The tip of Alexander’s wand slid in further, taunting her with expert precision.
With this new invasion, Caraway would have collapsed if not for the two males holding her up.
Alexander eased her legs up over his shoulders, and Brody instinctively supported her slight weight. With one last incantation to rid her of the knicker
s, Alexander replaced his wand with his mouth. His tongue darted past the swollen lips, seeking the nectar inside.
Caraway gasped and arched against him, almost unable to process the thought of Alexander Morningstar between her legs. She wanted to open her eyes, to see that it was real, but they were heavy with her desire, sensation her master now.
Alexander did homage to the offering before him, thrusting into her sweetness, his fingers following his tongue.
As Brody watched the display, using the wall for support, he slid down, bringing Caraway with him, and Alexander went from his knees to prone between her thighs. Still holding Caraway’s wrists behind her back with one hand, Brody used his other to touch her face, to run the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. He took her mouth in another kiss, but his fingers now slipped down the lush contours of her body, down to where Alexander exhibited his prowess. His hand hovered hesitantly at the back of the dark-sider’s head. Then his fingers closed around the base of Alexander’s neck, pushing him more fully against Caraway’s cunt.
Alexander allowed the touch even as Brody sought more.
His hand roamed over the breadth of his shoulders, but he kept straying back to the nape of his neck. Because there, Brody could guide him, be in control.
Alexander looked up sharply, the chill on his face reminding everyone he was the one in control. He pulled away and Caraway clawed and scratched mindlessly, seeking more of that divine sensation.
“Open your eyes, Caraway.” His voice was soft.
She opened them slowly, unwillingly.
Suddenly, the light was soft, falling on him with a fey incandescence. The arctic god was gone and in his place was a dark Adonis. Alexander’s eyes were an endless, stormy pool and his lips glistened in that light, authoring the heady proof of her desire.
Then the moment was gone. His fist shot out and pulled Brody by his hair across Caraway’s shoulder, to a mere whisper from his mouth.
“Even in your fantasies Bendopolous”—he paused—”you are the bitch.”
Alexander crossed that space, that line that had been drawn between them, crushing Brody’s mouth with primal dominance—proving, once and for all, his alpha status.
Hex and the Single Witch Page 6
