Chapter 13 #2
“You mean to say that you getting me pregnant is nothing to worry about?” I ask.
“It would solve a lot of problems,” he says with a shrug.
“It would create a lot of problems.”
He gives me a shy smile. “Would it?” he asks, his voice soft.
His sincerity scares me. “Crane…”
“Right,” he says with a sigh, frowning at the garden. “Where were we?”
I can’t help but stare at him for a moment as he starts rifling through the herbs. Was he serious about wanting to get me pregnant? Does Crane want to become a father? Goodness, we aren’t even married. We aren’t even in love.
But that last thought has my heart twisted in knots.
“This should help,” Crane says, picking what I recognize as feverfew and yarrow and a few other herbs and flowers that I don’t know.
“You don’t even have to consult a book?” I ask him.
His face lengthens. “I already did. Soon as I guessed what the coven’s plan might be. Only in a witch’s text would this be found. The rest of the world doesn’t want women to have that sort of power.”
I stare at the plants in his hand. “I wouldn’t be surprised if those books disappear, if the coven ever catches on to what we’re doing.”
He nods, sticking the plants inside his coat. “Then these are safest with me. I’ll make you a tincture and bring it to your class tomorrow.”
Then he puts his hand on my lower back, and for all that just happened in the library, for his seed that is still wet between my thighs, the feeling of his slightly possessive grip at my waist almost unravels me.
He steers me away from the garden and toward my dorm, though he doesn’t walk me all the way there.
“I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” he says to me when we’re halfway across the yard, giving me a polite wave that I know is just for show.
“I’ll make sure I do my homework,” I answer before turning my back to him and hurrying back to my room.
—
The next morning I forced myself to go to the dining hall to have breakfast. I missed out on dinner because I was too busy in the library trying to read the rest of the ritual and spell books that Crane had selected, and when I was done I was able to grab a piece of the leftover pastry that the cooks leave out each day.
Also, I was too afraid to go and sit by myself, thinking no one would want me at their table.
But this morning my stomach decided I didn’t have time to be shy and feel sorry for myself and thankfully the moment I stepped inside the dining hall, Paul waved me over to sit with him and a few of his friends.
I looked around for Crane and Brom but didn’t see them (another twist of jealousy when I imagined the two of them still lazing in bed together), so I was able to be a simple student on campus for a moment.
If being a simple student means you’re secretly part of some sacrifice or ritual that involves the coven that runs the school.
“Mind if I walk you to Professor Crane’s class?” Paul asks as we exit the dining hall, nibbling on a cheese Danish.
“I appreciate the offer but I left my books back in my room,” I tell him, patting him on the arm.
“I’ll wait for you here,” he says with a smile.
“All right, won’t be a moment,” I tell him, hurrying around the corner to my dorm. I’m actually touched that Paul wants to walk me. I’m sure he knows that there’s something going on between Crane and me, which means he just wants to be friends and I could use a real friend.
I gather my books from my room and am stepping out of the front doors when someone grabs my arm roughly and pulls me to the side of the building in a flurry of black hair and black clothes.
“Brom,” I gasp, his grip tight around my bicep as he presses me against the wall. “What are you doing here?”
Brom just stares at me with those wild black eyes of his.
He looks better than he has lately, his dark hair off his face, his beard neatly trimmed, his clothes clean and tailored.
Even though my heart is going fast at his intrusion, I relax when I remember that it’s the daytime and I don’t have to worry about the horseman coming out.
There’s only Brom right now, the Brom I’ve always known and trusted.
He doesn’t let go of my arm though.
“I wanted to see you before class,” he says roughly, taking a step closer until he’s boxed me in against the stone. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you alone. I need to talk to you. I need to be with you.”
“Can you let go of my arm?” I ask firmly.
He looks down at where he’s gripping me and his forehead crinkles, as if surprised. He drops his hand. “Sorry.” He glances up at me, a lost look in his eyes that makes me want to touch him. I manage to refrain, my fingers curling around my books instead.
“You think differently of me now,” he says in a low voice. Though he is no longer holding on to me, he’s still close, so close, his face inches from mine. His eyes are so dark and soulful that I feel myself falling into them like I used to.
“What do you mean?” I ask cautiously.
“I mean everything, Daffy,” he says, and my heart trips over my nickname. “When I first came back to Sleepy Hollow, you looked at me like I was your world. Now you look at me and all I see is fear.”
“Can you blame me? You know what you did to me.”
“It wasn’t me,” he snaps. “Honey, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, not unless you wanted it.”
“Honey?” I repeat. Since when has he ever used that word for me before? “I’m not your honey, Brom. You know we shouldn’t even be this close, nor should we be alone.”
“Why?” he asks, leaning in even further, as if I challenged him.
His mouth is so close now that if I moved at all it would brush against mine.
“Don’t say it’s because of Crane. Tell me it’s because of the coven, but don’t you dare say it’s because of Crane.
He doesn’t get to come here to Sleepy Hollow and fuck things up for us. ”
“He’s not messing anything up, I just can’t be with you, you know I can’t, I—”
He leans in, his mouth on mine in one hard, deep kiss.
With one hand on my books, the other goes to his chest to push him off, but I don’t.
I just keep my hand there, feeling the pure power beneath my fingers, and sink into the heat of his kiss.
He kisses deeply, slowly, like he’s trying to fuse me to him, his tongue owning every inch of my mouth.
“Let me fuck you right here,” he says against my lips, voice both hoarse and soft, and his hand goes to the front of my skirt and between my legs, cupping me there where I’m already hot. “No one has to know.”
I let out a moan at the pressure of his hand, bearing down on it, and his mouth goes to my neck and my head goes back against the wall, succumbing, clutching my books to my chest as if they are a shield to protect me from the devil that is Brom Bones.
“It’s just you and me, Kat, like it always should have been,” he murmurs.
Goodness. I feel every shred of resistance fade as he licks up my neck, sucking in my skin, his beard scratching me. I want to know what that beard feels like between my legs.
“No one is going to keep me away from you,” he groans, pulling me into another deep, lingering kiss as his hands start gathering up my skirt and his erection is pressed into my hip and everything rolling off him is hot, dark energy, like I’m being enveloped by a living, breathing tornado that I want to destroy me and—
“Kat?”
The sound of Paul’s voice makes me gasp and I immediately spring into action, breaking away from Brom’s mouth and shoving him back from me as hard as I can. He stumbles back a few steps, looking completely bewildered, like even he wasn’t sure what just happened.
“No,” I whisper to Brom, all my resolve coming back into me. “This isn’t happening and you know exactly why.”
“Even though you want it?” he asks, his voice breaking slightly, brows creating shadows over his eyes.
“Even though I want it,” I admit. I can at least give him that much.
Then I brush past him toward the sound of Paul’s voice that came from around the corner.
But Brom is right on my tail and ends up walking beside me as we see Paul approaching the dorm.
“Sorry,” I tell Paul, clutching my books to my chest and pasting a smile on my face. “I got stuck talking with Brom. You know Paul, don’t you, Brom?”
Brom just nods and Paul gives him a faint smile that borders on suspicion. I suppose that tornado energy is palpable to more people than just me.
“Lucky we all have the same class,” Paul says flatly as the three of us walk down the path toward the building that houses Crane’s classroom.
To say that it’s an awkward journey would be an understatement.
I know that Paul suspects there is something going on between Crane and me but he must wonder about the degree of my friendship with Brom. If he only knew the truth.