Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Briony
While the others help Fox’s parents chop and cook vegetables, squabbling as they do, Fox takes me by the hand, silently leading me out of the kitchen and up the rickety staircase.
“Are you taking me to show me your old childhood bedroom, Professor?” I ask him, knowing by the look in his eyes that is definitely not his motivation for pulling me up the stairs.
He halts on the landing, swiveling to face me and taking my chin in his hand. “Yes,” he tells me. “But I’m also pretty ravenous myself, Miss Storm.”
He presses his thumb against my pulse point, and the tension between us is electric and tangible.
“So you’re not feeding on deer anymore then, Professor?” I whisper in the darkness.
“I should,” he tells me, his eyes flashing scarlet red. “But I’m too weak for you, Miss Storm. Can you forgive me?”
I smile at him, take his hands in mine, lift them to my mouth, and nip at the tip of his thumb. His eyes flash crimson again and then he’s dragging me into the back bedroom.
I expect to find it bare and empty, but the old bed is still made up with a handmade quilt, one that’s lovingly been crafted. There are books lined up on the floor. A pile of clothes neatly folded in the corner. And a few old pictures pinned to the wall.
Fox pulls me inside and shuts the door. There are no lights in this house but he doesn’t attempt to light a candle or illuminate the room with his magic. Instead, we stand in the darkness, the beat of my heart loud, his masculine scent strong.
He backs me up against the door, cupping my chin again and lifting it, elongating my neck as he does. With the other hand, he brushes my hair away from my face, over my shoulders. And then he’s running his fingers up and down my throat again, making my toes curl with anticipation.
I bite on my lip, close my eyes, and wait for him to sink his fangs into my neck.
He doesn’t. He kisses me. A slow, sloppy kiss, pressing himself against me.
When he breaks away from my mouth and trails his lips over my jaw and down to my throat, I whisper to him, “How many girls did you bring to this room back in Slate, Professor? I bet you had a whole line of girls waiting outside for a chance to be with the charming, awe-inspiring Fox Tudor.”
“Stop talking, Miss Storm,” he orders me, dragging his sharp fangs up and down my neck and making me wince.
“I’m just curious,” I say. “You were very popular and a massive heart-throb.”
“Heart-throb,” he scoffs.
“You know you were.”
“Miss Storm,” he says, “stop talking or I’ll be forced to make you stop.”
“I just want to know how many—”
He’s covering my mouth with his hand in the next moment, gripping my shoulder with his other, then he bites my neck.
I moan loudly, thankful for the hand drowning out my cry. My knees buckle and he has to pull me back up straight. Ecstasy dances around my body. I feel like I’m floating away, up into the sky, into the stars circling the rosy moon itself.
Fox moans too as he sucks on my blood. I can hear him gulping it down.
“So good,” he murmurs as he does. “Tastes so good.”
And just when I think I might float away entirely and never come back down to earth, he withdraws his fangs from my throat, brushing his thumb over the wounds he’s made and healing them.
I flicker open my eyes. His mouth is scarlet with my blood. He licks his lips and his skin is almost golden. I reach out my hand and touch his face. His skin is warm, almost as warm as my own.
“You don’t look so vampiric anymore, Professor,” I muse, studying his face more closely, marveling at the ocean blue floating in his eyes.
“I don’t understand it,” he says, shaking his head. But then he takes my hand in his, draws it down his throat to his chest, presses it against his ribcage, and I can feel his heart beating.
“You said it does that sometimes when you’re around me.”
“It does,” he says. “But I don’t know… it’s like it’s beating more often now, more steadily, continuously. I don’t understand what’s happening to me. But I think it’s you, Briony. I think it’s your magic in my blood, changing me.”
“Can that happen?” I say.
“Not that I know of,” he says. “Trust me, I spent many an hour in the damn library searching for answers and solutions. Trying to find a way to reverse this decision, this deed that was done to me. I never found one, not even a hint or an inkling that there was a way. But maybe …”
“If you weren’t a vampire anymore,” I say, “would your powers fade?”
He shrugs. His guess is as good as mine.
“And would you still need my blood?” I say, “because I don’t think I could live without that now.”
Fox frowns. “That’s why I never wanted to do this, Briony. Why I never wanted this to happen.”
“Relax, Professor,” I tell him. “I have three other mates. I love you, but my whole world is not just you. You understand what I’m saying? Your fangs in my throat feel pretty damn amazing, but I’m no addict.”
“Yes. Although, perhaps I’m a little disappointed to find your world doesn’t revolve around me,” he teases. I pinch his arm in response. “Because mine revolves around you, Briony Storm.”
“I’m not sure that’s healthy,” I tell him.
He shrugs. “I’m a walking immortal with no soul. I’m officially dead. I don’t think I need to worry about my health, Briony.”
“Well, you might need to if you’re no longer a vampire,” I tell him.
He laughs, drawing me into his arms again and kissing me – a kiss that’s interrupted by a knock on the door behind me.
We break apart.
“Briony,” Beaufort asks from the other side of the door. I cast my light around the room, illuminating it, and open the door.
“You disappeared,” Beaufort says, “and you’ve been gone a while. We weren’t sure where you were.”
“Just in here,” I explain. “Fox was hungry.”
Beaufort’s eyes stray to my neck. “Is that necessary?” he says. “We’re not out in the demon wastelands anymore.”
“It’s necessary,” I say. “And besides, I like it.” Beaufort’s gaze leaps from my throat to my eyes.
“Isn’t it dangerous?”
“Isn’t everything we do?” I respond before Fox can.
“You could be weakening her.” Beaufort directs his words towards Fox.
“Actually, I think it does the opposite,” I tell him. “I feel more alive and more powerful once he’s done it.”
“That may be an illusion.”
“It isn’t.” I scowl at him, raising my hand. “I can give you a demonstration if you like.”
Beaufort darts forward and grabs my wrist in his hand. “Okay, little hellcat. I don’t need a demonstration. I believe you. I just want you to be careful.”
“I am careful with her,” Fox says.
Beaufort smirks down at me. “Are you? In my experience she doesn’t like to be handled carefully.
” Then he pulls me against him and kisses me hard against his lips, whipping my breath right away and demonstrating that I may have magic that surpasses his, but he’s still physically much stronger than I am.
A thought that has desire stirring in my belly.
Beaufort kisses me and I forget about everything else – the Empress, Slate Quarter, the firestones. I forget everything but Fox, lingering in the background.
It’s not just the Professor himself that seems different. His magic does too.
It’s not as cold, not as icy against my skin. There’s some warmth to it now.
I feel it prickling against my back, and I break away from my kiss with Beaufort and peer over my shoulder at the Professor.
He’s watching us through the gloom, his amber eyes glowing as always, his hands slack by his sides.
I glance back toward Beaufort, and then, in that moment, I decide. I crook my finger and beckon the Professor closer.
For a moment, it seems he’ll refuse or that Beaufort will put up a complaint. But both men are silent, and you could cut through the anticipation in the atmosphere with a knife.
The Professor stalks toward Beaufort and me, and with each step forward my heart thumps a little louder.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t imagined this – me pinned between Beaufort and the Professor. I think it might be every girl’s fantasy.
“What is it, Miss Storm?” the Professor growls. “What do you require my assistance with?”
Beaufort chuckles, because it’s probably very clear in my eyes why I’ve beckoned the Professor closer. But I know Fox – he wants to hear me say it.
“We’re friends now,” I tell him. “More than friends.”
Fox’s eyes flick up to meet Beaufort’s and then return to my gaze.
“We’re more than friends,” he confirms. “The five of us are bound by fate. We’ll be by your side till the end of our days, Briony.”
A happiness I haven’t felt in days and days swims through my veins, igniting my magic and pushing back all the gloom that I felt since returning to this Quarter and visiting my old home.
I smile at them both. “I think I may be the luckiest girl in all the realm,” I say.
“Lucky, huh?” Beaufort says as Fox rests his hand on my waist, right above where Beaufort holds my hips. “And why is that?”
I decide to answer that question with actions.
Resting my hand on Beaufort’s chest, I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss his mouth a second time.
He leans into me, groaning into my mouth and deepening the kiss.
But then I pull away, twist my head, and find Fox’s mouth over my shoulder.
I kiss him too, reveling in how different their kisses are – both igniting sparks all around my body, but both unique.
Beaufort kisses me with a dominance and an urgency. It’s always been that way between us – fire and passion. His kisses tell me just how much he wants me.
Fox’s kisses are slow and deliberate, as if he’s worshipping me with his mouth. There’s a reverence and a wonderment to his kisses, as if he can’t quite believe what’s happening.
As I continue to kiss the Professor, I feel Beaufort’s hot lips press against my throat, sucking softly where the Professor sank his fangs earlier.
I’m still tender there, and yet it feels divine. I whimper, and both men seem to grip me a little harder.