Chapter 20
Jade
I woke slowly, deliciously, the way you do after the kind of night that should probably come with a warning label.
Silk sheets brushed my skin when I stretched, every languid movement pulling a pleased little hum from my throat.
My body felt… well, like it had been extremely well cared for.
Thoroughly. Repeatedly. In ways I definitely planned on experiencing again.
The scent on the sheets—clean, dark, cool like winter smoke—was unmistakably Luther.
It was there but faint, and growing fainter because Luther himself was not here.
Figures, I thought, rolling onto my back.
Typical. Man vanishes after mind-melting night of passion.
Not that I was usually at his place when that happened.
Usually, it was a hotel… or my place… or sometimes nowhere at all, because I’d left first.
It stung more than I cared to admit, as if I had fully expected this to be different. I refused, absolutely refused, to let that ruin the remarkable way I felt. My muscles were loose, warm, and happily used. My pulse did a little flutter when I remembered exactly how he’d made me feel.
I stretched again, arms over my head, sheets slipping scandalously low, and then I spotted it.
A piece of thick cream stationery rested on the pillow beside me, elegant handwriting flourished across it.
Next to that sat a white box tied with a scarlet satin ribbon, like the world’s classiest bribe.
So he’d left, but not without thinking about me, that was sweet, and somehow…
very Luther. I had a feeling he always took care of everything, down to the smallest detail.
You should open it, Belfry announced cheerfully inside my mind.
I yelped, clutching at the sheet and hastily yanking it back up over my naked chest. When had he gotten here?
How much had he seen? It wasn’t like I’d stretched trying to be scandalous, but it certainly hadn’t been fit for any ears or eyes other than my own, and perhaps Luther’s.
“Good morning to you too!” I squeaked out, indignant, while I tried to search for him.
The room was dark, the curtains thick and still fully drawn, though hints of light peeked around the edges.
That light had been enough for me to see a big square white box and a folded note in, but it wasn’t enough to spot one tiny black bat.
The bat in question fluttered down from a beam near the ceiling, his small vest immaculate, gold chain gleaming, and smugness radiating off him like heat.
I reached for the nearest curtain and flicked it open a bit so I could see better.
If I wasn’t mistaken, he was wearing a different red vest from yesterday.
That one had had a little stripe through it, while this one held a faint golden pattern of flowers.
Very distinguished. The bat had a better wardrobe than I did.
Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, he said telepathically, though the smug puff of his chest indicated he absolutely meant to.
Luther left you a gift. A very lovely gift, I might add, and a note.
The note is important. He fluttered a little closer, landing on the pillow beside the box and tapped the edge of the scarlet ribbon with the thumb claw on his wing.
I exhaled, trying to gather my dignity. “Good morning, Belfry. How… was your night?” What did you even ask a bat?
What counted as small talk for him? I really hoped he wouldn’t tell me what he’d had for dinner; I was certain it was going to be as yucky as the way he’d crunched on moths inside the library yesterday.
Oh, you know, this and that. I flew around.
Did some matchmaking. Observed certain activities strictly for scientific accuracy.
He adjusted his vest primly. It was a very productive evening.
Did he just say what I thought he said? Observed certain activities?
I really hoped that didn’t mean he’d been hanging around in the shadows while Luther made mind-blowing, amazing love to me.
“Oh God,” I couldn’t help but moan, heat crawling up my spine and rushing through my face.
It was so strong—that sudden blush—that I couldn’t help but wonder what Maggie would say.
She’d call me a prude; I was pretty sure about that.
It wasn’t like a bat would care about human reproductive interactions, was it?
Nope, that didn’t make me stop blushing, but perhaps that was simply because recalling last night’s orgasms made heat spiral through my body all over again.
I clenched my thighs tightly together and scrambled to recall whether bats had well-developed olfactory capabilities or not.
Open the note! he insisted, with such eager excitement that it was beginning to catch on. Anything to distract me from the disconcerting way my body responded to the memories of last night. I was out of control and dangerously eager for Luther to come back for a repeat performance.
Instead, I sat up, sheet curled tightly under my arms, and picked up the note.
The paper was thick and expensive, the kind of stationery you only used if you wanted to make an impression, and that impression said you had money.
His handwriting was as stupidly beautiful as I expected, each letter perfectly shaped, like he’d taken lessons at some aristocratic finishing school centuries ago.
Ah, perhaps he had, I thought, and then nearly giggled hysterically, because that thought was crazy—but it could very well be true.
My Jade,
An urgent matter required my attention. Make yourself at home. Please wear the gift I’ve chosen for you. I am eager to see you in it, and even more eager to take it off you again.
Yours, with love,
Luther
My breath caught. This wasn’t a man sneaking out after he got what he wanted.
This was… something else. Something that made my cheeks burn and my stomach flutter in a very un-librarian way.
My ex never wrote me notes like that, and he definitely didn’t buy me what had to be lingerie.
The question was, where had Luther gotten a gift in the middle of the night?
Did he just have these lying about in case he had to make a hasty retreat?
I hated that I felt so suspicious of what probably was meant to be a nice gesture.
Go on, Belfry urged. Open the box next. He was hovering, not literally, but clinging to the pillow beside the box and peering anxiously at me.
As far as a bat could look anxious, he certainly made an impression, his ears flattened, drooping almost. Something twinkled in his eyes that made me think he was as excited as he was anxious to see what was inside the box.
Perhaps he didn’t know. Curiosity killed the bat, or something?
“You’re very pushy for someone who weighs four ounces,” I told him, but my hand went to touch the shiny white surface, my pinky brushing the silk of the scarlet ribbon. The cardboard felt expensive, and it wasn’t quite white, but hovered on the edge of cream.
Belfry clambered a bit higher onto the pillow, his wing tapping lightly against the headboard, his red vest and black fur contrasting sharply with the pale sheets. It was very challenging getting it from the package crate to the bed, he sniffed. I nearly sprained a wing. Show some appreciation.
I blinked at the box, then back at Belfry.
The box was easily ten times his size. When I lifted it and tested the weight, I had to conclude it wasn’t heavy exactly, but for a tiny bat, it might as well have been a lead weight.
“How did you even manage that?” I asked, shocked.
Then again, why was I even shocked? The bat talked telepathically, why couldn’t he lift a box from one room to the next and place it on the bed?
He said nothing, but he preened a little, smug, the same way Luther could be smug.
It was very suspicious. Maybe Belfry hadn’t carried the box at all; he was just taking the credit.
Or maybe he had, but this was one of those magical secrets I wasn’t invited to know.
I loved mysteries, but I hated being unable to unravel them.
I vowed to myself I’d get to the bottom of this later, when I could catch Belfry off guard.
Though I wasn’t sure what to think of lingerie as a gift after the first date, not that sleeping on the first date was my usual habit.
I tugged the ribbon free. The wrapping alone looked expensive enough to cause financial anxiety; I was already determined I had to give this back, and I hadn’t even seen it.
I lifted the lid while holding my breath, curiosity sizzling through my veins.
Inside, white tissue paper cupped something soft, delicate, and unmistakably lacy.
Yup, this was lingerie, I knew it! Jade-colored, deep and rich and elegant.
I barked out a surprised laugh. “Of course. Of course he did. Man shreds my bra like it’s tissue paper and replaces it with…
this.” It was beautiful, expensive, and I could tell at a glance that it was the right size.
Everything about it screamed, I picked this while imagining you wearing it.
“I can’t,” I whispered. “This is too much.”
You should at least try it on, Belfry said.
He’ll want to know if he at least guessed correctly about the fit.
I shot Belfry a look, incredulous. Did he, now?
I wasn’t sure what to think of a man who knew how to find the right bra that easily.
Most men I knew got utterly lost in the underwear department.
Frankly, picking the right bra was hard for me too, those things sucked.
My eyes went to the flutters of silk and tissue paper, and I simply couldn’t resist. Fine.
One look, maybe I’d try it on. It would probably feel like a medieval torture device to wear anyway; all the pretty bras usually did.
I’d feel justified in rejecting a gift this expensive after that, although the pretty lace was already tempting me to keep it. What could it hurt, I wondered?
I lifted the jade lace and silk from the box with reverent hands; it was incredibly soft but not as fragile as it looked.
Something thin and flat slid from the bottom of the box, landing on the sheets with a soft thump; a jewelry box.
“Oh no.” My voice cracked when I saw it.
“No, no, no…” For a brief moment, I struggled to parse what I’d seen, but the box was flat and square; not a ring, a bracelet.
Against all better judgment, I opened it.
The bracelet inside was gold, delicate, and impossibly fine.
Tiny jade stones glimmered like cat eyes, mysterious and wise.
I’d never even touched something this pretty before, let alone imagined owning it.
“I can’t take this,” I breathed. It was one thing to receive a gift of expensive lace after that night of lovemaking, but this?
It felt like a declaration of love or worse, ownership.
Why not? Belfry asked, he sounded genuinely confused, his little bat brain struggling to grasp why I’d even contemplate such a thing.
This is pocket change for Luther. And what’s his is yours now anyway, since you’re mated.
He added that so casually, but it sounded suspiciously like marriage. Was he crazy?
“M-mated?” I sputtered. “Sleeping together does not equal eternal vows, Belfry.” I gazed helplessly at the tangled sheets that still smelled like sex and him. My body betrayed me then with a flash of heat as it recalled the intense orgasms, the breathless kisses, and the tender surrender.
Actually, it does, Belfry said firmly. He’d climbed onto the edge of the open lingerie box, awkwardly clinging with wings and claws.
Then he tumbled into the tissue paper with a hiss, swimming through it with flaps of his wings to reach the other side.
The clumsy struggle briefly distracted me from the mounting panic in my chest. I reached out to pick him up from the tissue and put him on the sheets next to my knee.
“No, it…” I began to protest again, certain I had to be dealing with a bat-to-human cultural misunderstanding.
Actually, I couldn’t recall if bats mated for life, but that would explain this weird assumption on his end.
I drew in a relieved breath, yeah, that was it.
This was just a bracelet, an over-the-top, extravagant gift coming from an over-the-top, extravagant man. That was all.
The bat pointed a wing toward my ribs, still covered by the sheet I had pinned beneath my arms over my chest. I looked, confused, and saw nothing but the nap of the fabric, the luxurious pale cream color.
No, that wasn’t all. Something glowed faintly through the fabric, and as if burned, I dropped the sheet and squawked in shock. “What the…”
Faint lines of glowing silver curled across my skin, elegant, swirling, like stardust lines in motion.
It was a tattoo in glowing, living ink: ethereal and unreal—magic, the way Belfry’s ability to talk was, and Luther’s supposed vampirism.
It was beautiful, and it was like looking at someone else’s skin; it wasn’t me.
“What… what is that?” I whispered, my hand brushing along the soft swirls and starlight sparkles, testing that they were real.
They did not brush off; this wasn’t paint or ink.
Your soulmate mark, because you are now mated, Belfry said gently. True soulmates are very rare, you are lucky. Congratulations, Jade. He placed his wing on my knee, a gentle offer of reassurance, his eyes bright and earnest as he looked at me.
My vision wobbled. “Oh,” I managed, weakly. “I think I’m going to faint.”