Chapter 21
Nessa
Sebastian snored softly on the couch in the living room. Jessie was comfortable in her room, sound asleep. Nessa left a glass of water near each of them before picking up the dessert and stepping out the door.
Tristan’s residence was two houses down.
The clouds had mostly cleared away, leaving the sun to beat down on the neighborhood.
Gargoyles flew overhead, patrolling in their formations.
Members of the convocation wandered the street, coming or going.
With Austin meeting the alphas by himself and Jessie indisposed, the rest of their people had time off.
“Ah, Nessa, there you are.” Mr. Tom came out of the house she was passing with a full grocery bag in one hand and a bundle of what looked like blankets under the other arm. He looked at the cloth-covered plate in her hands. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just taking this to Tristan—“
“Yes, fine. The miss is sleeping, I trust?”
“Yes, she’s—“
“Fantastic. I just have to pop in to Ulric and then I will take over watching her. She shouldn’t be alone. She might need something and have to fend for herself.” He walked into the street to cut across to Ulric’s residence up the way.
It was as though he’d forgotten that Jessie had been a wife and mother, raising a son and a man-child for nearly twenty years. She could look after herself if need be.
Then again, if you didn’t have to why bother?
Nessa hurried on her way. The dessert was best warm and soon it wouldn’t be. She let herself into the residence and heard someone chatting in the living room. She popped her head around the corner and found two gargoyles she didn’t know well. She couldn’t remember their names.
They looked up with raised eyebrows.
“Hey,” she said. “I’m going to check in on Tristan.”
They both nodded. As she walked away, she heard, “Lucky bastard.”
Nessa laughed silently. Nice to be noticed.
It occurred to her that she didn’t know which room was Tristan’s.
She paused at the end of the hallway. The house was the same layout as hers, with two bedrooms and a similar kitchen and living room. Given he had clout in the convocation, he’d probably get the big room.
She peeked in the bunkbed room as she passed and found it empty. That must mean she was correct. That, or he wasn’t here.
The door to the big room was closed. She thought about knocking, but that guy had no qualms about peering in her windows to make sure she was accounted for. He didn’t deserve privacy.
She pushed the door open quietly. His large form lay on the bed on his back with his wings mostly beneath him. His arms were bent at the elbows and his hands rested on his bare stomach. The white sheet bunched low at his hips.
Even though his eyes were closed, he said, “Natasha,” in his deep, whiskey voice.
Shivers crawled across her skin. He always seemed to know when she was near, even before she’d known she could use energy to influence others. Even before she knew that was even possible with magic.
She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “Hey.” He still didn’t open his eyes. “I made you some dessert to say thanks. Or to appreciate a job well done. Or just to be nice, if you’re feeling prickly and won’t accept the other two reasons.”
“Any and all reasons are good enough if I get to eat the dessert. Is it chocolate?”
“Yes, can you smell it?”
“No. Hopeful.”
She smiled and closed the small distance to the side of the bed, looking down on that handsome face, with his almost severe cheekbones and arching black brows.
Raven stubble lined his jaw, and his dark hair fanned across the pillow in a loose curl.
If the man wasn’t so wicked, he’d make angels sing.
As it was, he probably made the devil nervous.
“How do you feel?” she asked. Given his eyes were still closed, she let her gaze roam freely over that fantastic body, his pecs perfectly defined and leading down into his eight pack. An ebony happy trail led from his navel to the sheet.
“My arm hurts like hell but I’m down to a dull throb, so it’ll be fine. Are you getting a good look?”
How the hell did he know? It was inhuman the way he could read her, even when he couldn’t see her energy. Even when no one else seemed to pay attention to her at all.
“Yes. You’re a work of art, like all the sculptures you always look at in the art room at Ivy House. Or don’t you still spend time appreciating those?”
“Every spare moment I get, yes. I love art, as you know from the first time we met.”
“When you thought I was an otherworldly being, yes, I remember. What happened to Indigo? I thought she was healing you.”
“She healed me enough to stop the bleeding and lessen the pain. That’s good enough.
I’m not in the mood for people. Pain is better than annoyance.
And you are an otherworldly being. A beautiful sprite who enchants and entrances everyone she meets.
Men can’t help but flock to your siren’s call even though they might follow you to their demise.
They’ll love the journey and count themselves lucky they were able to take it. ”
“Is that what you’re doing, following me to your demise?”
“Maybe I am, but I won’t turn back now. If you should lead me to my doom, it’ll be a treasured ending.”
She inched closer, her shins bumping the mattress.
He sounded genuine, no teasing or taunting.
No playing games. So…sweet, even though he was essentially saying she’d be the death of him.
Of any man. That should strike her as odd, or worse, horrible.
But instead, her heart warmed. When he said it, it didn’t seem like a bad thing, and she didn’t feel like such a terrible person.
Her breath released slowly as she drank in the sight of him. His beauty. His form in repose.
“Well, anyway,” she said, ready to depart.
“I hope you’re not planning to leave without letting me taste that dessert.”
She hesitated. “Don’t you want a little peace?”
“Yes. Desperately. But right now, I’ll settle for some of that dessert. What is it?”
She frowned in confusion. “A chocolate lava cake. I put a square of ganache in the middle to make it more decadent. If you’re not in the mood for people I can grab a fork and set you up. You don’t need to humor me by eating it in my presence.”
“Did you not hear what I just said? You are not people. You are an ethereal being sent here to torment me. Please, grab a fork. I’ll push up a bit.”
She crinkled her nose and grinned. She liked this strange new facet of his personality, liked the job of tormenter almost as much as she liked it when he held her throat and whispered threats in her ear.
That surely couldn’t be normal. But then, what in her life had ever been normal? Besides, he liked those things, too. She wasn’t the only odd one.
Butterflies filled her belly. “Okay.” She set the dish on the end table and bounded out to get a fork and something to drink.
With a fork tucked in her back pocket, she carried a glass of milk in one hand and a water in the other. She didn’t know which he’d prefer. Maybe both.
He’d scooted up in the bed to eat. Lines of pain still creased his face, and his hurt arm was tucked close to his side. He still hadn’t opened his eyes.
“Here.” She set down the drinks and moved in to fix his pillows. She used one arm to slide under his wide shoulders before lifting and adjusting. “Better?”
He let out a breath he’d obviously been holding against the pain. “Yes, thank you.”
“You couldn’t handle a little more annoyance to get some much-needed healing?”
His breathing was deep and slow, managing the pain.
“Indigo is a very sweet person, and I’m sure she has a great sense of humor, but when I am in pain, I want everyone to shut the hell up and leave me alone.
I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and have her hold a grudge against me.
She might try to kill me next time, rather than healing me, so I figured it was better for me to suffer in silence.
When Jessie wakes up, she’ll feel this and heal me from a distance.
I much prefer that approach. Please don’t tell Niamh any of this.
She has been searching for things that rile me up and she’d have a field day with this one. ”
Nessa laughed and pulled out the fork. “Your secret is safe with me.” She pulled the cloth away from the lava cake, hesitating when he didn’t open his eyes or reach for the plate. “Uhhm, you did want some, right?”
He opened his mouth expectantly, and an array of sparks danced up her middle.
“Oh,” she said, blinking at the fork in her hand, then the plate, then his opened mouth. “Okay.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, mindful not to crush his wing. The fork slid past the cake portion and through the soft, dense middle.
“Dang,” she murmured, hesitating.
“What?”
“You’re supposed to serve this when it’s warm so that the chocolate inside oozes out. It’s gotten cold now, and the middle has firmed up.”
“Will it still taste good?”
“Yes, it—“
“Then I don’t care.”
She smiled at his eagerness and finished cutting a piece. His lips parted again, and she gently rubbed the fork against his bottom lip, so he’d open a little wider. He complied and she delicately slipped the bite into his mouth.
Those lush lips closed over the metal tines. She watched them with a strange fervor, foreign in its intensity, as she pulled the fork free. He chewed for a moment, then groaned softly, his jaw movement pausing. He was savoring the flavor.
“That is incredible, Natasha,” he finally said, swallowing. “Unbelievable. You should challenge Austin with that. You’d win, hands down. Nothing can compare.”
She smiled with pride and cut out another bite.
“Larger,” he said.
“What?”
“You’re going to do the same size bite you just did, right?” He paused. “Make it bigger. I want more in my mouth at one time.”
Her stomach flipped over, and her core wound up tightly. He wasn’t trying to be sexual, but her body clearly didn’t know that.