Chapter 15 #2
“Okay.” He nods and we both fall silent for a few moments.
I pull my hand out from under his and smooth my hair back while mentally telling myself I need to channel my inner demon-hunter assassin, keeping my cool and not letting emotions get the best of me.
Because as much as Xavier is treating me like an equal right now, there’s no way he sees me as such.
We get to the restaurant, have the car valet parked, and get escorted to our table right away.
People stare as we walk in, but it’s not because they know Xavier is a vampire.
Even after we’re seated, there’s no way of knowing.
He orders an expensive bottle of wine and a glass is poured for him.
He doesn’t correct the sommelier, but instead leaves it in front of him, appearing human.
“I’ve lived in this area my whole life but have only been to Charlotte a handful of times,” I say, taking a sip of wine. “How did you end up here? The area doesn’t exactly scream—” I lean in—“vampire mobsters.”
His lips twitch up into a smile. “Is that what the rumor is?”
“It’s not wrong.”
“No, it’s not.” His fingertips touch the stem of the wineglass. “We’ve been here for only a few decades, pursuing a business opportunity.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not going to give me much, are you?”
He cocks one eyebrow and looks at me for several seconds before smirking. “I can give you more than you can handle.”
“Ew,” I say and try to act offended. But there’s a playfulness about him and I hate how much we click.
We’re married, but this is like the world’s weirdest first date yet there isn’t any awkwardness between us…
even though he knows I could shove a stake through his heart and I know he could rip out my throat without warning.
“This was the first area we settled in when we first came to America.”
“We meaning you, Theo, and Ezekiel?”
“Yes. We arrived here not long after the war ended and humans have no idea how much vampires shaped this city.”
“Which war?”
“Revolutionary. In the late 1700s.”
“I know,” I quickly say, though I have no idea the exact dates of said war. “And you’ve been here ever since?”
“No. We spent a century or so building the vampire community and then went back to Europe for a decade or so and came back.”
“To the East Coast?”
“Yes,” he says, looking a bit surprised.
“That’s where you guys met, or uh, acquired maybe is the better word, Mabel.”
“Correct. Her family resided in New York City.”
I slowly shake my head. “Demon hunting in NYC is no joke.”
His eyes narrow, but it’s out of curiosity. “You weren’t born to be a hunter.”
“No, I wasn’t.” He holds my gaze and is about to say something when the waiter comes to our table. I order an appetizer, a salad, and a vegetable risotto that the chef is going to customize for me.
The food comes rather quickly and Xavier and I make small talk throughout the rest of dinner. Usually I hate the whole getting-to-know-you kind of chatter, but he is rather fascinating and I have so many questions about life in the 1400s.
We meet the photographer at the park after dinner. He touches up my makeup and gets right to work, telling us how to pose. I expect it to feel awkward and forced, but when Xavier puts his hand on my waist, something goes through me.
“Am I the first witch you’ve married?” I ask, causing him to smirk.
“You are the only human I’ve ever married,” he replies, and tucks my hair behind my ear. The camera clicks as the photographer walks around us, snapping pictures.
“Should I feel special?”
“Yes, but not because I married you. That was out of convenience. You should feel special because you are.”
Inhaling, I just hold his gaze, letting his words sink in.
“You are a witch, raised by demon hunters,” he continues, speaking softly so we’re not overheard.
Unlike vampires, witches, shifters, and demon hunters don’t want to be known by the general public.
“Yet there is a softness to you. I see the way you look at things. You haven’t let the Order turn you bitter.
You want to believe there are good people in this world. ”
“There are good people. And bad. But we can be good,” I say, trying to convince myself that I am good.
“Are you sure about that?” he asks as the wind blows. I instinctively step closer to him and his arms clasp around me.
“Yes. And we can all be redeemed.”
“Some of us…” He looks away. “Some of us may have gone too far.”
“No. I don’t believe that. Even you can be redeemed.”
“I’m no good,” he says quietly, deep voice rattling right through me. “I’ve done a lot of bad things and I don’t regret it.”
“I know,” I whisper back. My lips part as I look into his dark blue eyes and he leans in.
Slowly, moving inch by inch. Everything fades around me and, for the first time in my life, I feel completely seen.
If anyone could look at me knowing the things I did before, the way I let myself get pushed around and used by the Order, and not judge me… it’s Xavier.
He’s been alive for nearly seven hundred years. He’s killed and fucked his way through his afterlife, I’m sure, and the Malus family doesn’t have the reputation it does by being reasonable people.
I know exactly who Xavier is.
Maybe there’s something wrong with me for not balking and wanting to figure out a way to stake him in his sleep. Yet for some reason, he’s not like the Order members who kill anyone who’s different.
My heart leaps in my chest and Xavier brings a hand up, cupping my chin. My pulse increases and warmth floods through me, reminding me that Xavier said he can tell the difference between my heart speeding up out of fear and my pulse increasing because I’m getting turned on.
And right now, it’s the latter.
Everything inside of me is being pulled to him, and desperation to feel his body against mine starts to take over.
A tingle runs down my spine, all the way to between my legs.
Holy shit. He’s had years and years—centuries—of pleasing women.
Vampires in general are said to be great lovers, and I want more than anything to find out just how good Xavier is.
It’s more than that, though. I won’t have to hold back. I won’t have to worry about accidentally sparking him with magic. He won’t push me away out of fear, call me a freak, or even be hurt by it. He’ll heal instantly, and I can fully let go.
“Xavier,” I start, but my voice dies in my throat as he puts his lips to mine. I melt into him, hands landing on his waist. He pulls me closer and I arch my back, pushing my hips into his.
“Perfect!” the photographer exclaims, and I blink a few times, feeling like I need to reorient myself to the here and now. Because for a moment there, I had totally forgotten everything else around me.
I wasn’t thinking about the way the Russos betrayed me. I wasn’t thinking about how much I hate Xavier and want to find a way to escape. I wasn’t thinking about the pain Ryder caused me or how I’ll never feel anything for another person ever again.
And I wasn’t even thinking about how Devon is stirring something inside of me, how looking at him is like looking at a mirror and I want nothing more than to comfort him and help him find his place because in doing so, I’m also finding a place for me.
No, in that moment, only Xavier existed. And fuck, I want to go back to that moment. Because I’ve never felt so seen before in my life. And not just seen, but understood and respected for what I am.
A witch, raised by demon hunters. I’m a skilled assassin, better than anyone I get assigned to go out with and yet I’ve been treated differently—as less than just because I’m different. My differences should have been celebrated, or at the very least recognized for making me a better hunter.
I can just hear Larissa’s voice in my head now, trying to chastise me and tell me that I think I’m better than everyone and me trying to explain to her that just because I’m more skilled doesn’t mean I’m fundamentally a better human being.
It takes emotional intelligence to differentiate between the two, and Larissa, and most of the world probably, is lacking.
“Time for the second location,” the photographer says, yet neither Xavier nor I move. I’m still standing there, wrapped in his embrace. Then it hits me: I’m wrapped in his embrace.
The man—no, vampire—who has been trading not attacking the order for women. Women who he holds spellbound so they think they want to contribute to adding to the messed up Malus family.
“We’re good with this,” Xavier says, eyes locked on mine. There’s something so utterly human about the way he’s looking at me, and I wish so badly right now I could get a read on his emotions. Because I have no idea if he’s feeling the same way.
“Oh, okay.” The photographer looks taken aback but has enough sense not to push it with Xavier.
Still feeling a little breathless, I reach up and touch my lips, remembering how smooth and cool Xavier’s own lips felt against mine.
The memory makes a tingle go through me and I know, without a doubt, that if he kisses me again, I won’t be able to resist him.
“Thank you,” I say when we’re back to the car and he holds my hand as I get in the passenger seat.
He’s sitting next to me in just seconds, and it doesn’t take long to get to the next venue.
We park along the street and I get a weird feeling forming in my stomach.
There’s an energy shift and I perk up, sensing something familiar.
Xavier gets out and zooms around, opening the car door for me.
“I don’t…I don’t think we should go in,” I say slowly, not sure why that feeling is coming over me. “We should go home.”
“We?” Xavier questions and takes my hand.
“We have several important politicians, both human and vampire alike, waiting on us.” He looks down at me, face surprisingly patient and kind instead of annoyed.
“I know you’re eager to consummate this relationship, but I assure you, waiting will make you want me more. ”
I willingly move with him, letting him guide me down from the car as I drop all my shields to try and get a better reading on whatever is nearby.
It’s hard sometimes to distinguish between a gut feeling and anxiety.
I understand the biology behind the nervous system doing whatever it can to protect you from danger.
But this get-the-hell-out-of-here feeling is coming from something deeper…
and now is coming with the feeling of being watched.