2. Of the Devil
OF THE DEVIL
Alex
Iblew out a breath between my teeth when we left Lucy’s house. If she didn’t accept my help, I would need to find another way to make sure she wasn’t going to die of poverty.
Irene leant against me in a casual gesture. “Poor woman.”
I forced myself not to tense but to enjoy her closeness and her flowery scent of orange blossom. “Did she tell the truth?”
“About not having seen her brother? Yes. But she was…confused.”
Pale sunlight blinded me when we came out of the dark alleyway.
“Why was Lucy confused?” I asked. “Because she has no idea where Graves is or why he left the court?”
She released my arm, and I missed her touch. “I’m not sure. She was also in pain. Physical pain. I think she’s injured.”
“I’ll ask her again to come to Raven Hall, and I’ll make sure she has food and drugs.”
Lucy wasn’t part of the Dark Court, but she was my responsibility after the way I’d treated her brother. The least I could do was help her.
Irene offered her hand to me. “Thank you.”
I closed my fingers around hers. Pushing down my aversion to physical contact had sucked all the pleasure out of holding her hand, but thanks to Irene and her patience, I was now able to enjoy the warmth of her skin and the thrill of being close to her.
I steered her away from a passing cart loaded with coal. “I’m useless when it comes to assisting unconscious people. The least I can do is make sure she doesn’t starve.”
“You aren’t useless.”
I helped her into the carriage and sat next to her, close enough that our shoulders touched, something that wouldn’t have been possible weeks ago. The carriage rolled into motion, rocking right and left.
“Where is Graves?” She glanced out of the window.
“He’ll reappear soon when his wounded pride allows him to think clearly about his situation.”
But I was worried. Not because I was particularly fond of the werewolf, but Graves was short-tempered and proud enough to plan an uprising to take over the Dark Court. I didn’t like the idea of a vengeful werewolf roaming London, plotting to destroy me.
Diplomacy wasn’t my strongest suit. I’d wounded him badly, both physically and emotionally, but the moment he’d been healthy again, he’d left without a word.
“I know what you’re thinking.” She stroked my knuckles, and the pleasant sensation was disproportionately big compared to the light touch.
“What?”
“Graves isn’t assembling an army to attack you.” She stroked my hand with her fingertips, stealing my breath.
“How do you know that?” I brushed a curl from her face, tracing the curve of her cheek.
She parted her lips, and her heartbeat quickened.
“The war with Knight decimated Graves’s pack, and he would never ally with Knight.
And even if he did, Knight would never attack you after you saved his werewolves from the rabies.
What other options does he have? The Fair Court? The fairies aren’t warriors.”
“Yet I’m sure we’ll hear from him soon.”
I dipped my head to kiss her cheek but right then, she shifted on the seat, and our lips were half an inch away.
She tilted her head, moving closer. I brushed my lips against hers, pain and pleasure rocking me. We both groaned when she darted out the tip of her tongue and caressed my lips. Heat built between us, and the bond we shared hummed softly, like a fluttery feeling in my chest.
From my first act of violence as a vampire when I’d drunk from her, something precious and pure had been forged between us.
When she opened her mouth, I slid my tongue past her teeth and took my time savouring her. But the desire to explore more of her was a burning urge. I wanted more. More touch, more skin, more of her hands on me and mine on her.
The carriage jolted, and I was shoved towards her.
My lips and body pressed hard against hers, and the sudden, unplanned contact was too much.
I shot away from her, gnashing my teeth.
Burning pain sliced through me. My stomach roiled.
What kind of person was disgusted with kissing the love of their life?
Her chest heaved. “Alex, take deep breaths.”
I did as told, angry with myself. “Are you hurt?” If I focused on her, it was easier to contain the fear.
“Just a scratch.”
“What?” I whipped my head towards her.
A cut sliced her bottom lip, and ruby drops of blood trickled from it. I must have cut her with my teeth.
“I’m sorry.” My gaze dropped to her lips.
The sweet, mouth-watering scent of her blood stirred my hunger.
She inched closer, a seductive glint in her gaze. “It’s nothing, and there’s a simple remedy for it. But you’d better be quick before my healing power makes it disappear.”
Just like that, desire roared loudly enough to silence the fear.
I kissed her hard and ran my tongue over the cut. It was shallow and short, but I lavished it with attention until it was completely sealed as I tasted her sweet, rich blood.
A moan eased out of her when I slid a hand behind her nape and deepened the kiss. The fear was pushed to a corner of my mind, but it didn’t go away. It never did. It waited and lurked in the darkness before assaulting my senses.
The bond between us tensed like a rope as the thought of never being able to hold her tormented me.
“I sense it.” Irene cupped my cheek. “Do not worry. You’re fighting it. You’re going to win.”
“I want to be faster. I’ve been frightened for too long. This isn’t the life I want.”
“Haste is of the devil.” She kissed me lightly, her skin radiating a glow thanks to her wili power.
My Irene always believed the future held happy surprises and joy.
I wasn’t so convinced, but if haste was of the devil, so was a vampire.