27. Chapter Twenty-Seven - Desiree
“I’m so sorry I’m late.” Jaxson’s smile lights up as he presents me with a flower.
Its intricate star-shaped petals glisten under the soft light of the backup generator powered streetlamps.
The sweet, earthy scent of the blossom cocoons us.
“For you.”
It’s a white oleander—my favorite.
He remembered.
I accept the flower that matches the tattoo on my shoulder, twirling it between my fingers.
Part of me still cares for Jaxson, but my heart had to move on after he left.
Except, the longer he smiles at me, the more I regret I ever did.
I’m a vampire.
We don’t belong together.
It’s unfair to let him think otherwise.
I pinch a velvety petal between my fingers.
“But they aren’t in season. Where’d you get it?”
Jaxson’s grin spreads wider, warm and inviting like a sunbeam.
I have to look away, not wanting to get lost in that easy comfort.
Unlike Vane, who scowls and plays with my attraction, pulling me close only to cruelly withdraw, Jaxson’s smiles are genuine and free.
I remind myself, though, that those smiles aren’t special; he gives them to everyone.
This isn’t a date.
I need to focus on proving to Vyvyan and Vane that I can solve this case, and that starts with Alden Lupas.
Why is he in Borealis, and how does he fit into what happened to Vyvyan?
“Can’t a guy have his secrets?” Jax muses.
“Fine, leave me guessing,” I say.
“Maybe if you are super nice to me, I’ll tell you all my secrets.”
“You forget I already know all your secrets.”
“Then that means we get to spend all night talking about you.”
“You have me until dawn,” I state, unwilling to miss my curfew.
“Right,” he says as we maintain steady eye contact.
“Gods, you’re so pretty.”
I roll my eyes, ignoring how my heart skips a beat.
“Come on, loverboy, I’m starving.”
Inside Blue Sparrow, Jaxson and I sit across from each other.
Soft music plays in the background, a gentle melody that seems to wrap around us like a sensual embrace.
I bury my face in my menu.
The vampire-friendly options include ox-blood soup, lamb’s blood casserole, and ethically sourced witches’ blood warmed to ninety-eight degrees.
My fangs ache.
“I know what I want,” I announce, closing my menu.
“Me too,” Jaxson replies, staring right at me.
Bats flap in my belly.
“So, what do you know about Alden?”
Jax sips his water, the ice cubes clinking against the glass.
“Ouch. Should I be offended that you want to discuss another guy on our date?”
I chew my bottom lip.
“This isn’t a date.”
“You mean to tell me you got all dressed up for our non-date? Right.”
Jaxson’s gaze drifts down, lingering on my chest, on the swell of my breasts pushing against the fabric of this dress—a dress I wouldn’t have dreamed of wearing back in high school.
He narrows his eyes.
I take a steadying breath.
“What?”
“The sight of you breathing goes against everything I thought I knew about vampires,” he says.
I smirk.
Vampires are very misunderstood.
“So long as we drink blood, our bodies resemble yours.”
Jax wets his lips.
“That’s good to know.”
“Behave.”
“Only because you asked so nicely.”
“Okay, so Alden . . .” Jax’s gaze is heavy with more unspoken words.
I sigh.
“What now?”
“What’s wrong with Vyvyan?” he asks.
A cold dread seeps into my bones.
“What do you mean?—”
“No one has seen or heard from her since before the blackout. Is she sick?” Jax’s next question is laced with skepticism.
“Do vampires even get sick?”
“Vyvyan’s been busy,” I say defensively.
Too defensively.
Jaxson leans forward.
All the heat of our flirtation is gone.
“Fine, she’s recovering,” I say.
It’s the truth, and it better be enough to get him off my case.
“Desi, don’t underestimate me. You’re here because you need something, and I’m guessing it involves information. Quid pro quo, right? Tell me about Vyvyan, and I’ll answer whatever questions you have about Alden. Though discussing another guy sounds about as appealing as a root canal, but for you, I’ll manage it.”
My brows dip below my bangs, a frown tugging at my lips.
Jax might have valuable information I need to help Vyvyan, but he won’t give me what I want if he senses I am lying.
“Vyvyan got hurt. She’s recovering.”
Jaxson scratches his jaw thoughtfully, the scrape of his stubble against his fingers filling the silence between us.
“Hurt how?”
“Does it matter?”
“If you want to know more about Alden, it does. Because what I know about him is juicy.”
“How juicy?” I press.
“Like you’ll be journaling about it along with how handsome I look tonight, juicy ,” he says, drawing out the last word with a teasing grin.
I laugh softly.
Journaling was my refuge growing up, a place to pour out every fight, every bad day, expelling the anger and loneliness so I could process it all.
But I haven’t felt the need to write since moving into the Nest.
I had Misty to talk to, before .
.
.
well, before everything fell apart.
Now, I’m starting to think I need that journal more than ever.
“I don’t believe you,” I challenge.
“That makes two of us, sunshine.”
“Well, then, I guess we are at an impasse.” I reach for my purse.
“I guess I better get going.”
“Sounds good to me. We can skip dinner and get right to the fun stuff.”
I pause.
“Such as?”
“Let’s get the hell out of here and go back to my place,” Jaxson says, a mischievous glint in his vibrant eyes.
“I have a single now, which means we don’t have to pretend to be quiet anymore.” He raises an eyebrow, and heat crawls up my neck.
Dammit.
My clothes suddenly feel confining.
Jaxson’s place had been our escape back then, a haven from my parents.
We often found the room occupied by his roommate at the garrison, but that never stopped us from finding ways to touch.
I’m sure his roommate was well aware of what was going on.
After all, life as a Blade didn’t afford much in the way of privacy, which only made our encounters more exhilarating.
“What about dinner?”
“Don’t worry, I still plan on eating.” Jax’s grins devilishly.
Chills dance along my skin.
I cross my legs, but the pang between them refuses to subside.
Fuck, I’m a mess.
First Vane, now Jax?
I’m overwhelmed by flashbacks of my last few months as a witch, torn between trying to commit to Vane and the difficulty of letting Jax go.
“We are just friends,” I say.
“We’ve always been friends. That didn’t stop us before.”
“It did.” His friendship with my brother and the unspoken bro code stopped us from crossing more lines than we already had.
Jax studies me.
“Are you seeing someone?”
“No,” I say halfheartedly as I search for the waiter.
“What about Vane?”
“What about Vane?” I ask, and my hackles rise.
Jax notices.
“He’s your sire, so doesn’t that make you his?”
I growl a low warning that rumbles in my chest.
“You are toeing a dangerous line, Jaxson Foster-Reid. I belong to no one.”
Jaxson smiles a satisfied grin that makes my blood boil.
“Good.”
“Grow up, or I’m leaving.”
“No, I’m sorry. I’ll behave,” Jax says.
I sit straighter.
“Okay, so let me get this straight: Vyvyan’s recovering because she was hurt, but don’t all you vampires have super healing abilities? What hurt her so badly for it to take days to heal? Answer truthfully.”
A knot forms in my throat.
I can’t tell Jaxson the truth, but he won’t help me if I say nothing.
My week is almost up.
“Do you promise to keep it a secret?” I ask.
Jaxson offers me his pinky in a childish gesture that makes my heart ache with nostalgia.
It’s what we did as kids, Jaxson, Wilder, and me.
“I promise.”
I gesture for Jaxson to lean in closer to me.
He does.
“Someone summoned Balam to kill Vane and Vyvyan the night of the blackout.”
“Fuck. Are you serious?”
I scan the restaurant for signs of eavesdroppers.
Satisfied that no one is listening, I say, “Yes.”
“Who knew they were leaving the Nest?”
I shrug.
“The Council.”
Jax is silent for a moment, his eyes distant.
“Then why are you asking me about Alden?”
“Because Balam’s daemon signatures were paw prints.”
He considers my words before realization widens his eyes.
“You mean, like wolves.”
“Wolves and vampires have been enemies for hundreds of years. The conflict escalated when Vyvyan refused to challenge the witches’ decision to force the vampires underground. Many vampires refused to comply and headed north into Lua, seeking refuge in wolf territory,” I state.
Jaxson nods, his expression grim.
“The vampires’ encroachment on wolf lands heightened tensions. Fiercely protective of their territory, wolves saw the vampires as a direct threat. Skirmishes broke out, with both sides suffering losses,” I continue.
“Wolves view vampires as unnatural, soulless creatures, while vampires see wolves as primitive, ruled by instincts. The cultural differences and territorial disputes have made peaceful coexistence nearly impossible.”
“But Alden was at Little Death the other night. Did something happen?”
“Alden got caught wandering the tunnels, heading into the Nest. I think he was trying to get to Vyvyan to finish the job.” While my voice rises with excitement at the possibility of being right, Jaxson is shaking his head.
“But Alden wasn’t in town during the blackout. His train got in days later. Maybe the tracks you saw were from a large dog?” My jaw hardens at Jaxon’s statement.
“Alden didn’t sneak into Corona, make his way down to Borealis, attack Vyvyan, timing it perfectly with a blackout, then make it back to Lua, only to arrive as if nothing happened a couple of days later.”
It does sound absurd when he says it like that, but I was so sure it was Alden.
“How else would you explain the prints?” I ask.
Jaxson clicks his tongue.
“I think someone is trying to throw you off their scent.”
“Like whom?”
“Someone on the Council?”
I groan.
He sounds like Vyvyan.
“There are sixteen members on the Council, including Leigh. It’ll be like finding a needle in a haystack.”
Bennett and a few other councilors were at Little Death the other night.
Other than Bennett’s terrible reaction to the Allure, he seems harmless.
My brother has told me a little about him.
How he is Leigh’s ex, how he betrayed her with Eos, only to win her and the country back with a heartfelt apology.
He may be slimy, but he doesn’t seem to be the type to risk his life or job by raising daemons to hurt Vyvyan and Vane.
What motive would he have?
“Desiree? Earth to Desi, anybody home?”
I blink.
“Sorry?”
“What do you want to eat?” Jax lifts his gaze.
The server’s expectant eyes are on me.
I open my menu, pointing to what I want.
“The blood we have on hand tonight is B positive. Does that suffice?” the waiter asks.
“Sure.” To me, blood is blood.
I’ve yet to have any that has rocked my world.
I glance at Jaxson, wondering what his blood type is.
Would it taste sweeter because it’s him?
My mouth waters, a dull throb pulses through my gums.
Jax winks.
I quickly glance away.
Once the waiter finishes, we give him our menus, and he goes to relay our order to the kitchen.
“What are you thinking about?” His voice is low and teasing, as if he already knows.
“Nothing. Just how pissed I am about hitting a dead-end.” I uncross my legs, accidentally bumping Jaxson with my foot.
His gaze smolders.
My breath catches in my throat from the heat burning in his eyes.
I stare at my lap, my fingers twisting my napkin.
“You know,” Jaxson ponders, his tone contemplative.
I lift my gaze.
“If you want to know who attacked Vyvyan, all you need to do is raise the daemon that did it.”
My head falls sideways.
“That’s a thing?”
“Let me help. I remember how to do it. We could ask for the check, get the ingredients we need tonight, and have the answers you need by morning. Balam isn’t like the Harborym. So long as you are calling the shots, he can’t hurt you.”
The idea I could have answers has my body thrumming with anticipation, but my curfew looms over my head like an executioner’s ax.
If I am not there by morning, Vane will lock me out.
He wants me to fail, and this is the perfect excuse for him to banish me.
Maybe I can table this idea, present it to Vyvyan, and meet up with Jaxson tomorrow, though the idea of putting him in danger has sweat dotting my brow.
“Not tonight.”
Jax frowns.
“Just say when.”
I nod.
“Thanks.”
“Anything for you.”
I take a deep breath.
If he means that, then he owes me the truth.
“Jax, at Little Death, you mentioned wanting to have this dinner to apologize. What exactly are you apologizing for?”
Jax’s hands disappear beneath the table, his gaze intense.
“For wasting so much time, Desiree. From the moment I learned you survived that car bombing, I should’ve been by your side. Every single day since we met at the loft in November, I’ve wanted to ask you out, but I let my doubts hold me back. I wasn’t sure if you wanted the same thing.”
He leans forward.
“But I’m done waiting—done being passive. I thought I lost you, and it nearly destroyed me. Now that you’re back, I will fight for you, for us. You’re it for me, Desiree. You’re the one.”
His words hit with the same amount of shock as defibrillator pads.
He didn’t say, “I love you,” but the sentiment is crystal clear.
It took nearly losing me for him to realize how deep his feelings were and how rare our connection is.
And he’s right.
Jax and I are a force to be reckoned with.
We keep each other safe and grounded.
Unlike Vane, Jaxson is a sure thing without constant games and secrets.
Jax is my best friend; even if we don’t have a future together, we have this moment.
It may be time to let go of my hurt and enjoy the present.