Chapter 18 Gracie
Suggested Listening: In My Bed by Alice Lee
Healing sleep is different from normal sleep. It’s exhausting. And I’m ready to be done with bed, which is something I didn’t expect me to think.
I have a very strong attachment to my bed, even if it does seem to be getting bigger, which would then mean this isn’t actually my bed.
I wouldn’t say it’s comfortable with six people squished on it, but I don’t mind. Which is a strange new development for me, but I’m going with the flow here.
Then again, I haven’t exactly been conscious enough to form an actual opinion.
“Mm, whose shoulder is this?” I mutter. It’s a little bony. I think I’m going to have a bruise on my cheek, but otherwise they’re very comfy.
“That would be mine,” Darius says from above me.
I hum and shift a bit. Darius is pressed to my back, his knees bent along mine.
He might be Puck’s twin, but their mannerisms are completely different.
When Puck spoons me, it’s almost like being strapped to him.
His arms might as well be restraints. With Darius, it’s…
Snugglier. He’s softer in every way. They might be twins split from the same soul, but they have grown into separate, whole people. And I like both of them.
The room is dim, and the TV is still playing.
I think I know what episode they’re on. Maybe four or five episodes into season one.
Which means it’s late enough in the day that we should think about dinner.
I haven’t checked in with Briella and Poppy all day.
Hopefully, they’ve made some progress figuring out who is reselling our product to our clients.
It’s imperative that we get evidence the coven is working against us to bolster our case.
I haven’t had time to really think about it, but we could likely use the local support to our favor and protection.
“How are you feeling?” Ezra whispers.
I blink at him lying on his side facing me. His wavy hair has been scraped up into a bun, which makes his face seem sharper somehow.
“Hmmm… Gross,” I mutter.
Vyslan managed to get me cleaned up prior to passing out after bringing Ezra home, but that was just a quick rinse-the-blood-off type wipe down. Not a real shower. At this point, they’ve cuddled me into what feels like a sticky, grimy mess.
Yuck. I might vomit if I think about what’s on me and my sheets.
I need a clarifying shampoo and a full-body scrub.
Ezra hooks our fingers together and gives them a squeeze. “Want help with that?”
Considering that my limbs feel like they weigh a hundred pounds each? Yeah, help sounds like a must.
I hold out my other hand to him. “Please?”
Ezra sits up, swings his legs off the side of the bed, then scoops me up.
I glance over his shoulder at my other cuddle companion. Darius curls up on his side, eyes shut, while Isa perches on the foot of the bed watching TV for the both of them.
Damn. That must be nice.
My heart twinges as I’m reminded once again that I don’t have a familiar. I’m twenty-five. It should have found me by now. So what gives?
Briella and I have talked about this. It’s something she’s obsessive about.
She’s also pointed out that in the last few years only three familiars have appeared to young witches.
Growing up, I remember everyone gushing about being invited to familiar reveal parties for their older siblings. I even went to a few.
Most familiars stick close to the witch’s home and don’t venture out with their person the way Isa does. But their relationship is unique.
My gaze strays to the newest addition in this little ragtag family. I wonder what Luciu thinks about all this?
He’s changed into athletic shorts and a black tee, revealing dark tattoos crawling up and down the exposed flesh.
I’m very interested in exploring those tattoos later. It’s not uncommon for warlocks to tattoo themselves with various symbols to bolster their magic. He hasn’t spoken about it much, but I get the impression that his magic is far more powerful than the average warlock’s. And much more creative.
He glances at me. Or more accurately, he turns his head toward us, and the TV glares off his glasses, turning them into bright points of light.
I wiggle my fingers at him, but otherwise remain boneless in Ezra’s embrace.
I’m looking forward to getting to know Luciu. And I can’t wait to meet his mother.
Thinking of parents, I need to reach out to Dad before things get any more complicated. He’s a pro at going with the flow, and I’m doing my best to emulate him right now. But I can’t spring too much on him without him going Overprotective Papa and boarding a flight home.
Then again… I’ll put a pin in that for later. Dad is still very much human, and all of this would be a lot for anyone.
Ezra bends enough to open the bathroom door and step inside. I’m hit with a wall of warm, humid air, and when he turns, I spy Vyslan stretched out in the tub surrounded by mountains of bubbles.
I snicker watching him pass his hands through the suds. “Someone find the bubble bath?”
He grins gleefully and slices his hands through the foam and bubbles. “Can you blame me? We don’t have this stuff.”
Ezra places me on the vanity then eases back. His gaze travels over my face, no doubt seeing everything. “How are you feeling?”
“Floaty. Okay. Little achy. I’m probably a four. Might drop to a three. All totaled, that’s pretty good given the last… How long has it been?”
Vyslan throws his arms wide, flinging water and bubbles everywhere. “Want to join, sweet witch?”
“Eh, I feel pretty ripe. I think I’m going to shower. Stewing in my own juices would be gross right now. I think there’s some Treznor still under my nails.”
Ezra nods and ducks into the shower stall to turn on the water. Is it my imagination or is the shower bigger?
Vyslan sinks down to his neck in the tub. His hellfire hair and horns sizzle, adding a smoky scent to the room that is rather pleasant. A bit like a campfire, actually. “How did it go with Puck?”
“Good, actually. I think we were both heard, and while we have some making up to do, we’re on the same page. We’re going to take it slow, so try to be nice to him, please? It’s got to be frustrating for him to watch our relationships fly by while he and I are… Stalled.”
Ezra turns around scowling, but it’s hard to pay attention to his face when his chest is so… There. And ripply.
Wait.
“Um, not to change the subject, but is it just me or are your scars…?”
All three of us stare at his chest.
Ezra runs his hands over his chest and legit turns in a circle like he can see his back better.
The scars are definitely less noticeable. They’re thin, silvery lines instead of angry, pink and red raised scar tissue.
Vyslan gets up and gingerly steps out of the tub. After he slipped and almost castrated himself, I don’t blame him. He grabs Ezra by the shoulder and strokes a hand over Ezra’s chest.
“It’s begun,” Vyslan mutters.
“What? What’s begun?” Ezra asks.
“You’re making the transition to full vampire. When that happens, scar tissue is essentially cannibalized in the process as the cells are rewritten to their original state.”
I blink a few times. “So, like… A factory reset?”
“I suppose so,” Vyslan mutters.
Ezra continues to blink, looking at himself with a shocked expression.
I slide off the vanity and go to him. I splay my hands on his chest. “Talk to me.”
“I’m okay,” he says softly. “It was just a shock. I’m okay.”
Leaning in, I kiss the middle of his chest. He loops his arms around me and squeezes.
“It’s fitting, I guess.” He rests his chin on my head. “I’m no longer the person they wanted me to be. And I’m no longer the version of myself determined to live in hiding. I feel like a totally different person.”
I squeeze him a little tighter. “It’s like you’re a butterfly and this is your metamorphosis.”
Vyslan wraps his arms around the both of us. “I’ll get you a pair of wings.”
Ezra doesn’t seem quite as into that idea. “Uh, I’m good.”
“You’d look cute with a pair of blue, sparkly wings. I saw a video on the internet.”
“I think you spend too much time on social media.”
I snicker and wiggle out of their grip. As nice as this moment is, I think I can smell myself. And I wasn’t kidding about the mystery ick under my nails.
I hook my thumbs in the straps of the soft jumpsuit and push them off my shoulders. The fabric ripples down my body to pool around my feet. Both Ezra and Vyslan stop speaking. Their gazes focus on me, and the way their predatory natures seem to make their features sharper is quite gratifying.
“What?” I flutter my lashes at them. “I need to shower, remember? Shower then sex. If you feel like it.”
Vyslan shoulders Ezra aside and closes the distance. His feet slap on the tile, and I shiver at the kind of psychotic, giddy glee grinning back at me. He grips my chin tightly, fingers pressing into my skin, tilts my jaw up, then blows his lust magic in my face.
I moan as the magic sinks into my system. My hands latch onto his hips as my body begins to pulse with need. My muscles go buttery soft as my nipples harden.
“Not fair,” I mutter.
He cups my breasts and pinches my nipples through the lacy bralette. “And teasing us with these tits is fair?”
“Fuck,” Ezra mutters. “That shit gets everywhere.”
Vyslan glances over his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
As good as his dick is looking, I’m not quite drunk enough on lust to get to pound town. Even sucking down Vyslan’s lust fog. “I’m too gross to be fucked yet.”
Ezra is suddenly at my back. He digs his fingers into the black cotton panties, shredding them like tissue paper. I shiver and press back against him, a slow smile blooming as I feel him harden.
“Don’t you dare shred this bra,” I say over my shoulder.
“Sorry,” he mutters, his voice flinty and low.