Chapter 9
Valen
To say I hadn’t been myself for a couple of days was putting it lightly.
In all honesty, I’d been a fucking mess.
I was barely able to fumble through classes and fencing practice started tomorrow, so I needed to get my shit together.
But I just couldn’t stop thinking about Archer and what he could do to me if he decided to tell anyone about our illicit affair.
I’d run through every possible scenario in my head.
Archer could report me to the Dean for inappropriate conduct.
He could tell his family, who might have connections to the Elder Council.
He could spread rumors that would destroy my reputation at the academy.
Hell, if his family was as traditional as most old magical bloodlines, they might even try to have me executed on the lie that I’d illegally attempted to turn or feed off of their precious heir.
The paranormal world was still deeply prejudiced against vampires.
The worst part was that I couldn’t read him at all.
During our brief encounter in the salle, he’d seemed just as shocked as I was, but that didn’t mean anything.
He’d had time to think about it now, time to realize what kind of leverage he had over me.
Maybe walking away from him in a huff like that hadn’t been the best course of action.
Now I couldn’t go near him again without looking suspicious.
I paced around my cottage like a caged animal, my enhanced hearing picking up every sound from the hallway outside. Every footstep made me tense, wondering if this was the moment campus security would come knocking on my door.
I was so lost in my spiraling thoughts that when someone actually did knock on my door, I nearly jumped out of my skin. My vampire reflexes had me across the room in a split second, pressing my back against the wall beside the door like some kind of paranoid fugitive.
“Valen?” Lila’s voice came through the wood, amused as always. “I can hear your anxiety from out here. Open up.”
I forced myself to take a deep breath and opened the door, trying to look less like I’d been having a mental breakdown for the past forty-eight hours. Judging by Lila’s raised eyebrow, I wasn’t particularly successful.
“You look like hell,” she said, pushing past me into the cottage without invitation. “When’s the last time you showered? Or slept? Or did anything other than pace around this place like a neurotic vampire cliché?”
“I’m fine,” I lied, closing the door and following her into the living room. She’d made herself comfortable on my couch, legs curled under her like she owned the place.
“Right. And I’m the Queen of England.” She studied me with those unsettling purple eyes. “You know, for someone who’s lived for centuries, you’re handling this whole situation with remarkable immaturity.”
“I am not being immature,” I snapped, then immediately proved her point by crossing my arms and glowering at her like a petulant child.
“Oh, you’re not?” Lila’s smile was sharp as a blade. “Then explain to me why you’ve been holed up in here for two days instead of handling this like an adult. You even cancelled your class.”
I couldn’t deny that. I had cancelled the class because I was too afraid to step outside. But she didn’t need to know that.
“There’s nothing to handle. I made it clear that nothing happened between us and we’re keeping things professional. End of story.”
“Bullshit.” She leaned forward, her expression growing serious. “You’re terrified, Valen. I can smell it on you. But what exactly are you afraid of?”
I opened my mouth to deny it, then stopped. What was the point? Lila had always been able to see right through me, even when she was newly turned and we barely knew each other. It was one of the more annoying aspects of our friendship.
“I’m afraid he’ll destroy my life,” I admitted quietly, sinking into the chair across from her. “One conversation with the wrong person and everything I’ve built here is gone.”
“And you think hiding from him is going to prevent that?”
“I’m not hiding—”
“You are absolutely hiding.” She stood up and started pacing, which was ironic since that’s all I’d been doing for days. “You’re so busy catastrophizing that you’re not thinking clearly. Let me ask you something. What did your precious Archer actually do when he realized who you were?”
I frowned, trying to remember past my own panic. “He... he was shocked. Confused.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did he make any demands?”
“No.”
“Did he seem angry or vindictive?”
“No, but—”
“Then what makes you think he’s going to run to the Dean?” Lila stopped pacing and fixed me with that penetrating stare. “From what I saw, he looked just as freaked out as you were. Maybe more so.”
I considered this, remembering the way Archer had gone pale when he’d realized who I was. The tremor in his voice when he’d said we needed to talk. He hadn’t seemed calculating or opportunistic. He’d seemed... scared.
“Even if he doesn’t report me intentionally,” I said, “he could let something slip. Tell a friend, mention it to his sister. These things have a way of getting out.”
“So talk to him.” Lila made it sound so simple. “Explain the situation. Make sure you’re both on the same page.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
Because every time I thought about being alone with Archer again, my body remembered exactly how he’d felt pressed against me in that alley.
Because I was terrified that if I got too close to him, I’d do something incredibly stupid like try to kiss him again.
Because the smart, responsible thing to do was maintain distance and pretend Saturday night had never happened.
“Because it’s inappropriate,” I said instead. “He’s my student.”
“He’s your fencing team captain now,” Lila corrected. “And you’re gonna have to be able to work with him. There’s no getting around that.”
“I can deal with him at practice,” I replied. “But Lila… I… I don’t think I can deal with him more than that. Not without… doing something stupid.”
“There it is,” she said, sighing like she’d been waiting for it the entire time. “The truth at last.”
I stared at her, my jaw clenched so tight I was probably about to crack a tooth. “What truth?”
“That you’re not just worried about your job or your reputation,” she said, settling back onto the couch with that infuriating knowing smile. “You’re worried that if you get within ten feet of him again, you’ll throw all your precious self-control out the window.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Lila tilted her head, studying me like I was a particularly interesting specimen. “Tell me, when’s the last time you fed off someone and still wanted more afterward? When’s the last time you spent days thinking about a single encounter?”
Never. The answer was never, and we both knew it. In three centuries of existence, I’d perfected the art of taking what I needed and moving on without looking back. Sexual energy was sustenance, nothing more. But Archer...
“He was different,” I admitted reluctantly. “The connection was... more intense than usual.”
“Intense enough that you’re still thinking about him days later, even though you’re convinced he’s going to ruin your life?”
I didn’t answer, but my silence was apparently confirmation enough for Lila. She leaned back with a satisfied expression, like she’d just solved a particularly challenging puzzle.
“You know what I think?” she said. “I think you’re terrified because for the first time in centuries, you actually care about someone. And caring makes you vulnerable in ways you haven’t had to deal with since you were human.”
“I don’t care about him,” I said automatically. “I barely know him.”
“Right. That’s why you’ve been pacing holes in your floor and jumping at shadows for two days straight.
” She stood up, smoothing down her clothes.
“Look, Valen, I get it. Feeling something real is scary as hell when you’ve spent centuries avoiding it.
But hiding from him isn’t going to make those feelings go away.
If anything, it will probably make them worse. ”
“Even if you’re right,” I said, which I wasn’t admitting she was, “it doesn’t change anything. He’s still my student. There are still rules.”
“Rules made by humans who live for maybe eighty years if they’re lucky,” Lila pointed out. “You’re immortal. He’s an adult. And from what I saw in that fencing salle, the attraction is very mutual.”
The memory of Archer’s hands in my hair, the little gasps he’d made when I’d touched him, sent heat coursing through me. I pushed it aside ruthlessly.
“It doesn’t matter. Even if I wanted to pursue something with him, which I don’t,” I added quickly, “his family would never approve. You heard him mention his parents. Old magical bloodlines don’t exactly embrace vampire-witch relationships.”
“So don’t tell them.” Lila shrugged like it was the most obvious solution in the world. “Have your fun, enjoy each other’s company, and what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”
“And when someone inevitably finds out? When it becomes academy gossip? When it reaches the Elder Council?” I shook my head. “I’ve worked too hard to build a life here to throw it away for a student.”
“A student you’ve already slept with,” she reminded me helpfully. “Multiple times, if I recall your rather detailed account correctly.”
Heat crept up my neck. “That was before I knew who he was.”
“The damage is already done, Valen. If he wanted to destroy you, he could do it whether you pursue him or not.” Lila moved toward the door, then paused with her hand on the knob.
“The question is whether you’re going to spend the rest of your very long life wondering what might have been, or if you’re going to take a chance on something that might actually make you happy. ”
She let herself out before I could respond, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the lingering scent of her perfume. I slumped back in my chair, running my hands through my hair.
The worst part was that she was right. About all of it. I was terrified, not just of the professional consequences, but of the way Archer made me feel. Like I was alive again instead of just going through the motions of existence.
But that didn’t make pursuing him any less dangerous. Or any less impossible.
I glanced at the clock on my wall. Practice was tomorrow afternoon, and I’d have to face him whether I was ready or not. The smart thing would be to treat him like any other student. Professional. Distant. Completely impersonal.
The problem was, every time I closed my eyes, I could still feel his body against mine. This was going to be a disaster.
I forced myself to get up and take a shower, hoping the hot water would wash away some of my anxiety along with the funk I’d been marinating in for the past two days.
It didn’t work. If anything, the solitude gave my mind more room to wander, conjuring up increasingly vivid memories of Archer’s skin against mine, the way he’d responded to my touch, the little sounds he’d made when I’d—
“Stop,” I said aloud, pressing my forehead against the shower tiles. “Just fucking stop.”
But my body wasn’t listening. I was already half-hard just from thinking about him, and the knowledge that I’d see him again tomorrow was doing nothing to help my situation.
For a moment I resisted the thought of taking care of it right then and there.
And then, I gave in. At least if I jerked off now, I might be less likely to get a hard-on in my fencing suit tomorrow when I was coaching.
I wrapped my hand around my cock, giving it a few lazy strokes to see if I was really interested.
My dick stiffened immediately, the head especially sensitive as I closed my eyes and let out a soft groan.
Images flashed through my head of Archer pressed up against a brick wall, his cheeks spread as my cock stretched him open.
I stroked myself faster, remembering the tight heat of his ass, the way he’d begged me to fuck him harder. Christ, the sounds he’d made when I’d hit that perfect spot inside him, the way his whole body had trembled when he came...
I bit back a groan as I came hard, spilling over my hand and onto the shower floor. For a moment I just stood there, breathing hard and feeling marginally more human. At least now I might be able to get through practice tomorrow without embarrassing myself.
But as the post-orgasmic clarity hit, I realized jerking off to thoughts of my student hadn’t actually solved any of my problems. If anything, it had just reminded me how badly I wanted him again.
I finished my shower and got dressed, trying to focus on preparing for tomorrow’s practice instead of dwelling on impossible fantasies. I pulled out my coaching notes and started reviewing the team roster, forcing myself to think about drills and conditioning instead of blue eyes and perfect asses.
Archer Quinn. Team Captain. Exceptional skill level. Needs work on...
I stared at the page, my pen hovering over the paper. What did Archer need to work on? His technique was flawless, his tactical awareness beyond his years. The only thing he needed to work on was staying the hell away from me before I did something that would destroy both our lives.
I tossed the notebook aside and poured myself a generous glass of bourbon. Maybe if I was slightly drunk tomorrow, I’d be less likely to notice the way his fencing whites hugged his body, or the graceful way he moved across the salle, or the determined set of his jaw when he was concentrating.
Or maybe I’d just make an even bigger fool of myself.
The bourbon burned going down, but it didn’t do much to quiet the chaos in my head. I was well and truly fucked, and not in the way I wanted to be.