Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Nikolai
“Checkmate,” I whisper, with a casual smile, watching her eyes narrow slightly. Although it’s usually easier to get answers from reading someone’s thoughts, getting them to let their guard down is just as effective.
“You played well.” For a novice. Playing without being able to see into my opponent’s mind was refreshing. She came out swinging; she was too aggressive, not stealthy enough. “I played a pretty common attack called—”
“The Wayward Queen, I know,” she interrupts me, a smile flirting at the edges of her lips. She knew the attack. That’s…interesting.
There is a fiery intelligence dancing in her eyes. I consider her for a moment; maybe I didn’t win at all.
“Another game?” She raises her eyebrows in challenge.
I hum my agreement and turn the board.
We ready the checkered field. I watch her lithe fingers move the black pieces with a casual self-assuredness she didn’t show in our last game.
I begin with the Queen’s Pawn opening, and she responds with the knight’s move to f6.
We play in silence for a few moves; I work on developing a strong center.
Her gameplay is more delicate this time around, more skillful.
I develop my bishop. She studies the board, running her teeth over her voluptuous bottom lip. If she bit just a little harder, she’d gift me a drop of blood. I could reach out, run my thumb across it, steal a taste of her for myself.
She advances her e-pawn. “I shared something with you. This is usually the part in the conversation where the other person reciprocates,” she says, with a glint in her hazel eyes.
I castle with one hand, shifting my king and rook. I’m not sure what I should tell her.
She develops her knight, her lips tipping up in a mischievous smile. “Unless you’re one not to reciprocate.” She stares me down. Oh, well, we can’t have that. Never let it be said that Nik Komarov doesn’t reciprocate.
“I never leave a partner unsatisfied.” Flashing a sharp smirk, I take my turn. “I’m speaking of a chess partner, obviously.” I can think all the indecent thoughts I want to about her blood and flesh, but I cannot flirt too noticeably.
“Obviously,” she parrots, and makes her move, barely glancing at the board. She’s backlit by the fire, which illuminates her bloodred hair, teasing me with the sweet temptation to run my fingers through her curls. A very dangerous game indeed.
I believe I’m right about my theory about Vladlena: For her, turnabout is fair play—she gives what she gets.
Kian, Ariki, Boden, Cal, and I discussed a new approach to uncovering her secrets.
We agreed on a little less force and a little more honesty.
After all she’s obviously not someone who will just bend to others’ wills.
“What do you want to know?” As I reposition my knight and study the board, I realize what she’s done. Oh, úmnitsa. Tricky tricky girl, she fianchettoed. She’s much more skilled than she let on. I thought I was studying her. All the while, she had been interrogating my every move.
“How does it work?” She taps a finger to the side of her temple. “The mind reading?” With a quick flick of her wrist, she develops her knight. “Do you hear all thoughts, all the time, or do you have to actively search them out?”
There isn’t any risk in sharing this with her.
“Yes.” I chuckle. “To both. Most of the time it’s like a low buzz of voices or projected images.
People think differently. Some people have an internal monologue, and it’s like listening to a radio,” I explain, as we continue our gameplay.
“Others think in pictures but no sound, like a silent film, or an Enchantagram reel on mute. Some think more like a movie.” I advance a piece, and she moves in response.
“It all just sort of flows through my senses like background noise. However, I can focus on a specific mind and see or hear what they do, think what they think.”
I capture a pawn. “A lot of magicae develop mental shields, which makes tapping into their minds more difficult. Though not impossible…in most cases.”
She listens to my explanation as she recaptures with her queen.
“It’s similar to your garage door really, but instead of just opening it, I have to pick the lock.
” Of course, the stronger the lock, the more unpleasant it is to pick.
Usually, I’m able to slip in undetected.
If, however, their shield is exceptionally sturdy, well it can be uncomfortable, if not outright painful, for both of us.
Kian and I practice with each other. I pick his lock while he attempts to resist me. We always need a few drinks afterward.
She shifts in her seat, crossing her legs and drawing my attention to her smooth-as-cream thighs.
I don’t let my thoughts develop in the direction my body, specifically my fangs and cock, urges me to.
She’s a student, but worse, she’s a Solis.
She’s entirely, completely, one hundred percent off-limits in every way imaginable.
I attack her queen. “It’s my turn to ask a question. ”
She claims my bishop. “Check.” She offers me a little wave. “Go ahead, ask away.”
“What did you know about our world before you met Kian and Ariki?” I defend my piece.
She pushes her f-pawn to increase her attack. While I focus on the more important game, her.
“And don’t say ‘nothing.’ Even if you didn’t know about the realm, what did you know?”
She weighs my question. “Nothing.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she raises a slender hand.
“I’m telling the truth.” She sighs. “I’ve been asking myself, how oblivious was I? How did I fail to notice magic?”
I move. She responds with a move of her own, slamming the piece down in frustration a little harder than necessary.
“Why didn’t I push to know more?” Her eyes meet mine across the board, shining with regret and fear.
Maybe irritation? So many emotions I’m not used to deciphering through someone’s eyes.
“All I knew, and this is the honest truth, all I knew was that our family was rife with difficulties and controversies. Because of that contentious history, we could be targeted to fulfill others’ agendas. ”
I maneuver my king.
She counters by adjusting her queen. “Check,” she whispers.
The scent of winter and smoky rose hangs heavy in the air, clouding my mind, muddying my focus as I split my attention between the board and her story.
“When you grow up being told to fear everyone, always looking over your shoulder for a potential attack, following a strict set of incontestable rules to ‘keep you safe.’” She uses air quotes. “When you grow up like I did, it’s hard to believe there’s any other way to live.”
As I soak in her words, I reposition my king.
“You learn to fear any other way of life,” she says, staring through me like she’s the one who can read minds. Like she can see every facet of my dark soul. She captures a pawn. “Check.” That word sounds so sweet sliding over her lips.
I recover, shifting my king. “Are you afraid now—of how you’re living?” I push. It’s not really something I need to know to bring back to Kian. It’s just something I want to know.
“Uh-uh.” She wiggles her pointer finger. Does she think I’m a dog? “My turn to ask a question.” She gives me a wry smile. “This might be a rude question.”
“Oh no.” I laugh. She blushes, the blood rising in her cheeks, turning them the most delicious shade of pink. What I wouldn’t give to see what’s running through that wicked little mind of hers.
“What’s it like”—she wets her lips artfully with her tongue—“to feed as a Devorare?”
My eyes fly open. Maybe she can read minds. Did she sense I was just lusting after her blood? “Now that is a rude question,” I tsk, attempting to feign nonchalance.
She counters with barely a glance to the board. “I think we are way past niceties, don’t you?” Once again, she raises her eyebrows as a flash of playfulness lights up her face.
“Yes, I suppose we are.” I bite my lip, trying to distract myself from her scent and the thought of her blood moving within her pretty veins, under all that pearly skin. “Why do you want to know?”
“I have had two magicae feed on my fear since I’ve been here.
I want to know what they experience while I’m experiencing terror.
” She says it in a confident voice. Many magicae, even outside of the Devorare Kingdom, grow up learning to avoid being fed on.
She should be given the same courtesy in instruction.
“Consuming another’s life force is”—I search for the right word—“intense. I’m told it’s similar for all magicae of Devorare, but I can only speak for vampires.
For me, it’s like life itself is being poured into me.
It’s hard to explain such a feeling. It’s both simultaneously comforting and invigorating.
” I shift my king. “The other person’s energy spreads through my body, lighting up all of my nerve endings.
I get a gentle buzz at first, similar to drinking a strong coffee or cocktail or smoking a cigarette, but so much more potent and revitalizing, leaving a pleasant tingle.
When we feed, we are delivered a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. ”
In truth, it’s a lot like an orgasm, but I feel telling her that would be overstepping our rapidly deteriorating professor/student boundary.
“You should do what you can to prevent becoming someone’s meal. As you’ve learned, it can be quite uncomfortable. And if you aren’t refilling your energy reserves, it can leave you weak.” Since she’s having difficulty sustaining herself, it’s dangerous, possibly deadly.
Lena watches me carefully before opening her mouth to ask another question, but I stop her with a stern look.
“Right, your turn. By all means.” She gestures at me with a wave of her hand and advances her queen. “Check.”