Chapter 17 #2
I jolt away, my hands muffling my sensitive ears from the assaulting sound. He follows, taking a step back.
No longer do we gaze at each other—now, we’re wide-eyed. His pupils are blown, his irises red, and his heart is all too audible. It’s as if his heart is trying to escape his chest. Is it fear or desire that leaves him wanting to run? Does he wish to run from me, or to me?
And more importantly, which do I want?
“Another murder,” I say.
The sound is a warning. Get inside or get caught and questioned—or become the next one picked off. That can’t happen. Not yet.
“My dorm. C’mon. It’s closest.”
Maybe we should stop and investigate, but I follow him without question.
Out of all the places to hide from a killer, Jun’s dormitory is a superb choice. I don’t make the mistake of ignoring Tobey this time. It would be hard to—they’re blowing up my phone when I step inside.
Tobey
You better not be dead.
Margaux
You wish. xx
Tobey
I really don’t.
Where are you?
Margaux
With Jun. We’re hiding away in his dorm for the evening.
Unless you need backup?
Tobey
I don’t.
We looked for clues, and there was nothing.
So we’re in the dorm now.
Margaux
Good. Stay there!
Who was it?
I’m not sure I want to know the answer. Though I haven’t had time to focus on my other friends and acquaintances, there are still a few people I worry about. Wolfgang. Serena, the siren I once dated. Others. I would even worry about Jun if he weren’t already with me.
Tobey
A witch. I don’t know her, but Caldwell does.
Her name is Sofia.
I don’t know her either, but I find no relief in the fact.
Margaux
I hate this.
Tobey
Me too.
Margaux
I’m going to sleep it off.
Let me know if anything changes.
Tobey
You too.
You sure you’re okay over there?
Caldwell and I can sneak out for a rescue mission…
Margaux
Don’t move a muscle.
I’m positive. His bed is divine.
Tobey
Oh…
Jun watches me from the other side of the room, having showered and slipped into some dark sweatpants. His hair is still sopping wet, and his T-shirt clings to his muscular form.
I press my lips together, looking down at my phone.
Margaux
Not like that. Get your head out of the gutter!
He’s sleeping on the floor.
Not exactly, but it’s a funny visual.
In truth, I consider sleeping on the couch this time. Jun’s bed is divine, but he’s been too kind to me—kinder than I’ve ever been to him—and I don’t know how to stomach it. Hogging his bed doesn’t help with the guilt.
Tobey
How chivalrous of him…
Margaux
I know. It’s surprising.
See you tomorrow, darling.
“Are you texting Tobey?” He lounges next to me on the couch, his arm resting on the back.
His arm is behind me. Is he still trying to comfort me?
“Mhm. They’re worried about me, naturally. I have to make sure they don’t throw a little fit.”
He snorts. “Please. The last thing I need is their tiny ass hunting me down.”
“Oh, but I would love to see it.”
“I bet you would.”
I lift my head, looking toward Jun. He’s no less than a foot away.
I can pretend I wasn’t thinking about kissing him, but… I was just before the alarms went off. And I think he was too. I bite my lower lip, contemplating bringing the topic up.
He speaks before I can.
“Let’s drink.” He stands up and heads to his mini fridge. “I think we deserve it, yeah?”
“I’m not sure what I did to deserve it, but I’ll certainly accept it.”
He pulls out a miniature bottle of wine. “Will this do? Vampires seem to love this shit.”
“I don’t know about all vampires, but I won’t complain about it.”
“You, not complaining? That’s a first.”
“Funny. Perhaps you should stick to comedy—you seem to have a talent for it.”
He settles in again, passing me the little bottle.
“What?” I lift a brow. “No glass?”
“Nope.” He cracks open a can of beer. “Drink up, princess.”
He’s given me a reason to be annoyed at him again, and I am… surprisingly grateful. His being kind is, in a word, dangerous—and perhaps it should seem artificial, but it doesn’t. Jun is more genuine than I realized.
I’m learning too much about him.
I listen to his order, tilting my head back and downing as much of the wine as I can in one gulp. It’s cheap, and I’m not drinking for taste.
His gaze is still on me. “You don’t need to knock it back so fast… but that’s impressive.”
“I’m good at drinking. That’s what most of my diet consists of, you know. Liquid.”
“Could have fooled me, considering how underfed you are.”
I frown. He doesn’t mean to, but he brings up a memory of the dinner with my parents. Namely, I think of my mother’s words.
“Do you think I look worse for wear?”
He lets out a surprised laugh. “What the fuck?”
“My mother said I look sickly.” I touch my cheek. “She could tell I haven’t been drinking enough.”
I love my mother, and I know she adores me, but it’s always been too easy to compare myself to her. She’s tall and thin. I’m several inches shorter and curvier.
Little comments about my appearance, even if she doesn’t mean them that way… they get to me.
The way Jun looks at me suddenly may be the one thing that can distract me.
He leans in, his thumb on my chin. His gaze is scrutinizing and penetrating, using the grip to turn my face. Each time he touches me is pure heat, it’s lava, and I could melt under his watchful eye.
My gaze is stuck on his, and his eyes dart around my face, taking me in. There’s a gentle nature to him, one I never realized before. It’s another thing about him I find oh-so terrifying.
I would rather face the killer than feel Jun looking at me… and touching me. His hands are rough with calluses, but they’re delicate now.
“You want the honest answer?” he asks.
I’ve always been able to trust Jun to be blunt with me. While my mother’s bluntness is a knife, his is more soothing. Predictable. Needed.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Please.”
“I think…” He squeezes my chin. “You’ve never looked better. Who’s filling your head with this shit?”
I avert my gaze. “My mother.”
“Fuck her.”
My lips part. “I thought you were going to be a gentleman, Jun-seong.”
“I am.” He smirks, leaning away. “As long as she’s around to hear me, I’ll be a perfect angel.”
“Funny, coming from a demon.”
He snorts. “If you’re worried about whatever your mom said, my offer still stands.”
“Your offer…?” I know exactly what he’s referring to, but I pretend I don’t. I’m the picture of innocence as I meet his sharp gaze—my lips parted, my eyes wide.
“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll take the offer back.”
I laugh. “What? Why?”
“Do you want to drink from me or not?”
“You already know the answer, don’t you?” I shake my head, pressing my lips together. “You said…”
His hand is on me again, turning my face, guiding me to look at him.
When our eyes lock, I don’t have a doubt in my mind. I know what I want.
“Go on,” he says. “Tell me what I said.”
It’s not truly a command, but it’s spoken with such soft reassurance that I melt under his touch. My eyelashes flutter, and the blood in my body goes warm.
“You said… I like your taste.” My words are just loud enough to hear.
Oh, how I long to avert my gaze—but I don’t. Our eyes lock into place, and they stay that way.
“And do you like it?”
“It’s…” Hell. I can’t give him this much power over me… but I can’t hold back anymore. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”
Because I’m starving. There’s no other reason.
He is the first fresh meal I’ve had in a month, and it was only a drop. He may taste especially hot and spiced, but it has nothing to do with him. It’s my thirst. It’s his demonic nature. That’s all.
I expect him to gloat, but he doesn’t.