12. Shemaiah #2
“Miss Thaddox, why don’t you and the ladies adjourn to the parlor while I finish up here with the Roan men. It shouldn’t take long.”
“I’d prefer to join the women.” Jafeth looks Lucy up and down with obvious interest.
“Jafeth,” Ruby whispers for the ears of the Mavarri only.
My brother just smiles.
“I have another question,” Lucy says.
“Of course,” Noah’s as composed as ever. “What is it you’d like to know, Miss Thaddox?”
“Why would your father put this stipulation in his will?”
“I can’t pretend to know the mind of—”
“Venture a guess.”
“Really, Lucy,” Inspector Ricin scolds. “This isn’t necessary. We’ve taken up enough of the Roans’ time already, can’t you see they have a party to get back to?”
“Indeed.” Jafeth flashes a flirty grin at Lucy. “A party and other things.”
Lucy narrows her eyes. “What kind of other things?”
The kind I used to enjoy. Why the hell can’t I tonight?
“I could show you.” Jafeth offers his arm with a predatory smirk. “I’m certain the festivities at a Roan party are more… titillating than you’re accustomed to.”
“Jafeth!” This time, Ruby’s reprimand is loud enough for everyone to hear.
Lucy doesn’t even blush. “I have no interest in your kind of festivities, Mr. Roan.” She immediately turns her attention back to Noah. “Back to my question.”
It’s clear why she and Ruby are friends.
Noah sighs. “Like every man of his fortune and wealth, my father had enemies.”
“Yes, but to hold back your inheritance? Why—”
“That’s quite enough, Lucy.” Inspector Ricin takes her arm and apologizes for the “ungrounded suggestions” of his rookie counterpart.
Jafeth cracks his knuckles.
Inspector Ricin flinches.
“What about how everyone’s guilty until proven innocent?” Lucy hisses at Ricin sarcastically, twisting out of his arm.
Needing a drink, and to ensure Miss Thaddox won’t be a problem, I cross to the bar cart near Ruby and whisper too low for humans to hear. “You can’t tell her the truth.”
Ruby follows me over. “She’s my closest friend,” she replies equally softly.
Friend. I’m not sure I even understand the word. An image of Pippa laughing over a game of Elementals last night drifts through my mind.
“I trust her,” Ruby says. “She’ll understand.”
“Are you certain about that? People prove to be untrustworthy all the time, Mrs. Roan.” I should know.
“That’s a different tune from the one you were singing a few months ago.”
She has a point. I’m the one who pushed Noah to trust Ruby. I forced his hand when it came to letting her in on our secrets. “That was out of necessity.”
“As is this.” She pours two fingers worth of scotch. “Lucy won’t stop asking questions until she’s satisfied with the answers. And believe me, she’s not.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” I whisper as I take a drink.
Ruby looks over her shoulder with a smile as she rejoins the group and invites Lucy to play a game of bridge in the drawing room with her and the other women.
“What about the party?” Kay asks. “I’d like to…” She trails off, adjusting her gloves while looking at the floor.
“I could use a… drink,” the inspector says, his neck blotchy with a red blush. “If the party’s still going.”
He knows as well as the rest of us that the party won’t be over until dawn.
“Of course, we’d love to have you join the festivities.” Noah stands, casting a look back at his wife, who just waves him off. “Kay, if you feel up for it…” He motions in front of him as if to say, be my guest. Looking a little hesitant, she follows Noah and Ricin out. Curious.
She chose to stay late at the last new moon party as well. I wonder if there’s someone in particular she’s hoping to see again.
“We’ll need a fourth for bridge,” Anna says. “Shemaiah? Jafeth?”
“No.” I down a shot of scotch, set the glass on the table with too much force, and march out of the room leaving the rest of them to contend with how they’ll spend their evening.
It should be Pippa joining them for a fourth.
I know she enjoys playing bridge. She shouldn’t be up in her room in bed, weak and wasting away.
I growl, stalking through the house, only realizing where I’m going when I stand in front of her door. Fuck!
My teeth are out, my claws extended, my body swollen with predatory instinct.
I shouldn’t be here.
And still I knock.
“Come in.” Pippa’s voice sounds stronger. Tempting. Like a siren’s call.
With my hand on the doorknob I hesitate, not with uncertainty, but with excitement.
She’s there, right on the other side of this door.
The scent I’ve craved all night. The face that’s haunted me, but shouldn’t.
Why am I so drawn to her? I drop my hand, but it’s back a second later as I tear the door open, the impulse to see her too strong to deny.
Pippa’s blue eyes widen at the sight of me. She straightens in her bed, pulling the sheet to her collarbone. Her hair is disheveled, eyes heavy as if she just woke up. “Shemaiah?”
Her gaze dips, taking me in, noting the differences. I’m more Mavarri right now than human. All hunger and desire.
“Are you… alright?” she whispers.
I huff a sound that’s almost a mocking laugh. I’ve never felt so far from alright, so out of control. Halfway to the bed, her lemony scent hits me, and my fangs descend. I freeze.
“Why are you here?” she asks.
Her heartbeat thrums under the skin at her neck.
She’s gained back some of the color she lost earlier, but there are dark circles under her eyes.
Concern thrashes around inside me, and I fist my hands, wanting to fight anything that harms her.
But how do you fight a villain you can’t see or touch?
Some primal noise rips from my chest as my fists tighten enough for my claws to draw blood from my palms.
I need her. No, I need to flee. Instead, I draw in a heavy breath. This time, her scent has me stalking forward. I can’t fight her demons. I can’t fight my own either. Despite my earlier feast, I’m famished. I lick my fang.
“Shemaiah?” Pippa’s voice shakes.
Like the animal I am, I haven’t spoken. Why am I here? My eyes drift, taking in the weave of her braid, the various colors of gold in her hair. Her lips are a perfect, kissable pink. Her throat, so long and delicate, begs for my teeth. It would be so easy to—
“News!” I blurt out, my mind muddled. Yes, that’s why I’m here. A perfectly acceptable reason. News of her son.
“Tobias?” She sits forward, and the sheet drops, revealing an expanse of lightly freckled skin I haven’t seen before.
Her night shift dips to the tops of her slightly curved breasts, both of which are small but lush.
They would fit so well in my hand. Her nipples poke at the thin fabric covering them.
My skin heats, pulse heavy in my ears. I step backward as venom fills my mouth. I swallow it. Focus. “He’s not in New Essik.”
“What?” She deflates, the smile drifting from her face like shifting sand in a strong wind, changing the landscape. “What do you mean?”
My feet move forward before my mind can catch up. I need to see her smile again, to see her face transform from worry to pleasure. I could make her forget it all for just a moment, chase away the demons I can’t kill, make her feel so good.
My hands come down on the bed, one knee lifting onto the mattress by her feet. Her eyes widen. I fight to hold onto the conversation. “The orphanage said to check New Caldon.”
She stiffens.
I pause just before crawling all the way onto the bed.
What the hell am I doing? I jump back. She doesn’t want me like this.
And I won’t play with her emotions by offering her one night of pleasure when I can’t offer anything more.
No matter how attracted I am to her, I don’t love her, and I’m not going to.
This is all just the effects of the new moon.
I step toward the door, shaking my head to clear it, wrestling the desire to pounce on her into submission. “Forgive me, Miss Willoughby. I should not have come here on a new moon.” I tug on my hair.
“It’s alright. Just tell me about Toby.” She crawls forward on the bed, closer to me, her gown gaping open at the top.
Fuck me! What blood I had left for thought rushes south. I’ve never been so fucking hard. I need to get out of here.
“I sent Mrs. Darning to fetch him,” I stammer. “I have to go.”
“Oh.” She pauses, sits back on her heels, and clutches her hands in her lap. Her breath comes out shaky. “Thank you, Shemaiah.”
I offer an awkward bow, then run from the room as if it’s on fire, forcing myself back down the stairs and straight outside into the cold night. Snow falls in fast flakes around me, the last remnants of winter fighting to claim the island from the coming spring.
I take a deep breath, the air devoid of the scent of blood. Fresh, sharp, evergreen flavors, so different from what my full stomach covets. I look up at the dark windows of the second story. Pippa’s dark window. A window that will soon be dark for good.
Whatever just happened was unacceptable.
I need to keep my distance. For both our sakes.
There’s nothing helpful that can come from our friendship, especially when it sets my Mavarri instincts so close to the surface that I nearly lose control for the first time in my life.
I have no delusions about what I wanted from her tonight—what I could have so easily taken.
I overstepped. And I can’t let it happen again.
Leaving the house, the party, and my cravings behind, I go to the one place that will remind me why I should stay away from Pippa Willoughby. The grave will tell me the truth when my hunger tells me lies.