Chapter Fourteen
Mads
He woke with a terrible burning in his stomach, one that sank lower by the minute. Sweat trailed his brow, and he fumbled for the facility phone, dialing the extension for Dr. Vans.
He’d spent precious days talking to one of the coven members who handled interior décor and had even made a trip to the city to shop at a rather nice place for odds and ends. Everything else was a stab in the dark that he’d just have to pray felt good when it arrived.
Every day had drawn him closer to his heat with no Marquis in sight.
On the third ring, Dr. Vans answered with a grumble and yawn. “Doctor. I appear to—”
“Yep. We’re not playing any games. We can pack your things for you, but I’ll drive you over right this instant.” He hung up and something like anxiety and joy bundled in his stomach next to the rising anxiety of heat.
“If you let me call an outside number, I can call Marquis and tell hi—” Mads froze when Dr. Vans snorted.
“Nah. Let’s surprise him. He can get you a cellphone and all that after. Did you take your supplements I’ve been giving you?” Dr. Vans tapped his fingers audibly on something on the other line and Mads checked his pillbox.
“I have. I’m current. I still have to take my magnesium tonight.”
“Good. Take it now. Pack yourself a small overnight bag. I’m on the way.” He hung up.
Mads did as he was told, packing his belongings.
The day he’d moved in with Marquis, he recalled the male coming to his small home, picking belongings to take and leave as he wanted.
Mads was so embarrassed, not wanting to take anything for fear it would shame him—but Marquis hadn’t said a word. He’d never judged him.
But the house he’d walk into this time would be mostly his, a nearly new home to both of them.
Vans was there in a few minutes, just as Mads was giving his teeth a final brush. The burgeoning heat within him couldn’t truck with nasty breath.
Dr. Vans was a single male but had been nothing but kind to Mads, with no suggestion of untoward behavior.
He didn’t so much as flinch around Mads, even if his heat was near.
Perhaps it was his bound status? In either case, Vans escorted Mads out to the car, not opening the door as he’d almost grown accustomed to.
Marquis was such a gentleman, and the thought warmed him as they rode, air conditioner blowing full blast.
“Thank you for the cool air.” Mads smiled as he hugged his bag.
“No problem. Omegas can be prone to a little sweat in the throes of things and the scent—I don’t need to tell you that I’m alpha, even if I don’t quite have the interest in all that.”
“Omegas?” Mads perked up. Heterosexuality was the norm among mages.
“No, all of it. Engaging in coitus has never appealed to me, which is why I care for omegas a lot. Something about my scent doesn’t set them on edge.” He chuckled.
“Ah, asexual.” Mads searched for the belt.
Vans nodded. “Quite unfortunately so. Finding a partner has been quite the chore for me. I do so love company; it’s the exchange of bodily fluids that doesn’t sit well with me. Perfectly irrational, I understand. As a psychologist, I should know. Zero vibes with people juice.”
“I mean, some people are attracted to feet. Some people aren’t attracted to feet.” Mads wasn’t sure what to say, and his processing faculties were…lacking…to say the least. He did manage to hook his seat belt, though.
Vans started the car, and they rolled out of the parking lot, headlights casting a yellow haze over their surroundings. “Feet… You know, there’s this theory that’s caused by a cross-wiring in the brain?”
“Hey, no judgment. Kinkshaming bad. Feet are like the least of things you can whack off to…or on. Or with?” Mads frowned. Very glad that Marquis didn’t have that sort of proclivity.
“No! I mean it. There’s a sensory region in the brain where the somatosensory cortex… You know it’s probably pseudoscience anyway, but that cortex supposedly crosses the signals for feet and genitals.”
“Are you certain you’re a psychologist?” Mads squinted at the doctor. “How old is your degree?”
“Do you want a ride to Marquis’s house or not? Besides, I have a great success rate with my patients.” Vans sniffed imperiously.
“Fair point. Proceed. Tally-ho, good sir, onward to obtain me some tallywhacker.” Mads held a finger up in proclamation as Vans brought the car to a slow stop in the middle of the empty street.
“Do you want to walk the rest of the way?” Vans flinched, seething.
Mads shook his head, lips pursed.
“Then don’t say tallywhacker again. Please. For the good of magekind.” Vans waited.
“If I swear I won’t say it again, even not in your presence, will you speed?” Mads smiled hopefully.
“I will go three miles an hour over the speed limit, nothing more. If we get pulled over, it’ll be even slower to get there.” Vans glared.
“Deal.” Mads stuck his hand out for a shake.
Vans eyed it. “I don’t have enough hand sanitizer for that.”
Mads glanced down at his hand then back up. “Oh-kayyyyyy…” Not unpacking all that…
He pulled his hand back and stared at the road.
Vans reached the house exactly two minutes ahead of the GPS’s proposed time, and he slowed down to stop at the edge of the property; the gate’s railheads glinted in the moonlight.
“Here’s your stop.” Vans unlocked the doors and Mads unhooked his belt, slipping out as he shouldered his bag.
He walked toward the gate, and Vans drove off without making sure he got inside… So much for chivalry…
Mads pushed at the gate, rattled the bars, and huffed before eyeing the structure with a frown. He made a few more attempts before swearing under his breath and adjusting his bag over his shoulder. With a few limbering stretches, he dug his fingers into the decorative curls of metal and hoisted.
Climbing into places he shouldn’t have been was a specialty of his…
over three-quarters of a century ago. He’d lost a lot of his flair since.
As he hoisted, he tumbled, falling over the rail with a windmilling of arms as he landed on unsteady feet with a huff before promptly falling to his ass. Smooth.
He stood, dusted himself off, and started walking.
The entire neighborhood was a gated community with the main house being the head of the Penumbra estate—the covenmaster’s always the biggest and most elaborate by necessity of it being both residence, meeting space, hospitality, and sometimes infirmary—though Marquis had given much thought into the hospitality and infirmary and made them attached to the main estate by way of an awning bridge.
Hospitality could also double as a safe space for omegas during their season, so it made more sense to keep it separate.
He’d helped Marquis design it, after all.
And everything that Mads looked at seemed familiar, a design of his own mind.
Marquis could say he’d wiped Mads from his mind a thousand times, but Mads knew he’d carried that flame.
If he’d remembered their design, the bedroom would be on the second floor.
At that hour, no lights had been left on, but Mads could feel where Marquis was. The draw between them was so strong, pulling him inexorably in.
No lattice. No places to climb, but an overhang just below the window gave Mads a goal. “Floating charm… That should do it…”
Mads pulled his wand out and wondered why he hadn’t just done it earlier.
He huffed and fingered his wand, directed the tip at his feet, and strengthened his core, letting himself climb the air like steps.
Marquis’s magic filled him like a battery, the charge buzzing in the pit of his soul, and magic felt so good to have again.
As his feet settled upon the roof, terracotta shingles crunched under his feet, and he pried at the window, finding it locked. He cast a quick charm that snapped back at him from a protective ward.
“Oh, no he didn— Actually, smart move.” Mads placed his hand upon the pane and peered in, spying a sleeping Marquis sprawled out on his front, hair still damp and laying all different directions.
Poor man was overworked. Buuuut… Mads was horny.
Horny trumped tired. Besides, one good breath of Mads, and Marquis would be wide awake.
He channeled his magic, which was essentially Marquis’s and pushed it into the window, frequency matching the barrier as with a subtle click, the latch unlocked.
With careful ease, he pushed the window open and stared as the night breeze stirred.
He leaned in, took a deep breath—air still humid, the scent of Marquis’s soap rich in the air.
Different than the perfumed bars of lye they’d had years ago.
More chemical, but underneath it, a breadth of fragrance more complex than ever before.
Still, Mads took in the underlying scent of Marquis, his sweaty clothes somewhere making his head spin with lust.
Mads slipped into the room, his bag rustling as he toed his way to the floor and turned to shut the window behind him, adjusting curtains closed. And in that instance, the bed rustled, footsteps approached, and a warm body pressed against his backside. “Mads.”
His breath caught in his throat, shoulders pinching. Everything stopped as low moonlight spilled from a slit in the curtains. “M-Marquis.”
Warm hands circled Mads’s chest, fingers spreading as they delved down to toy with his waistband. “I was going to pick you up tomorrow.”
“Nature had other plans.” Mads swallowed and relished the sensation of his heartbeat pulsing to life in his pants.