Chapter 25

chapter 25

Maeve

Hyacinth leads us up the stairs to a room that’s decorated in what I’m assuming is her trademark purple. It’s lovely, the walls faded and comforting, the bed ridiculously overstuffed, and even a scattering of chairs and a sofa in a makeshift sitting area. She closes the door behind us and motions to the room as a whole. “Wherever you would be most comfortable.”

Lizzie marches to the couch and drops onto it with none of her usual grace. I don’t know if I’m reassured that she doesn’t want to do this or irritated with her for dragging her heels through the whole process. There’s a kernel of jealousy beneath my ribs as Hyacinth sinks onto the cushion next to Lizzie, which only complicates my feelings on the whole matter. There’s absolutely no way that I am joining them on the couch, so I take the chair across from them.

It’s a mistake.

From this angle, they create a tableau of beauty that makes my chest ache. Hyacinth goes to some cleverly hidden ties at the shoulders of her robes, but Lizzie shakes her head sharply. “Keep it on.”

For her part, Hyacinth just shrugs. “Where would you like to feed?”

Lizzie’s gaze tracks to me, and whatever she sees on my face, despite my best efforts to hide it, makes her say, “Your wrist will do well enough.”

If Hyacinth finds that remotely disconcerting, she doesn’t show any evidence of it. But as she slides off her glove, every movement radiates seduction. Her wrist is dainty, and as her robes slide up to reveal her forearm, I get a better look at her skin. Also purple, though it’s the kind of purple that’s so pale it’s almost without shade. It should make her look sickly, but it’s just beautiful.

Lizzie gingerly takes her wrist, but her eyes are on me. They haven’t left me since this started. It makes me shift in my seat. I don’t want to do anything to make her feel more uncomfortable than she obviously already is, but with every second that this continues, I wonder if I’ve made a mistake in more than my choice of seating.

No. No, I can’t afford to think like that. Lizzie’s a vampire; going without food means she’ll be weak when she can’t afford to be. If we’re tracking the C?n Annwn, I need her at full strength. If she’s not, she could die. She might be destined to leave me, but at least I’ll have the comfort of knowing that she’s safe and well. If she hamstrings herself to make me comfortable, that’s not a guaranteed outcome.

I force my fretting hands still, place them in my lap, and will my body to relax back into the seat. My expression takes longer to get under control, but after a few beats I’m certain I’ve managed it. “Go on, Lizzie.” Even my voice is carefully neutral.

Lizzie’s brows draw together, but we’ve had this argument half a dozen times today, and apparently she doesn’t want to revisit it any more than I do.

She strikes, faster than I can follow, her mouth closing around Hyacinth’s wrist. I see the exact moment the bite’s pleasure takes hold. Hyacinth melts back into the couch, a breathless little sound coming from her lips. Her eyes close and her hips writhe, obviously seeking friction the same way I did during that first bite from Lizzie. Hyacinth is beautiful. Everything about her seems designed to seduce, even the way she orgasms.

But Lizzie isn’t looking at her. She isn’t marking the way that Hyacinth’s breasts heave against the thin fabric of her robes, her nipples at sharp peaks. She isn’t watching how Hyacinth rubs her thighs together before finally releasing a whimper and delving her hands between them. She doesn’t seem to notice at all.

Because she’s watching me.

I mark the color returning to her cheeks, and even though it can’t have been more than a minute or two, it feels like a small eternity before she lifts her mouth and runs her tongue over her fang. One last kiss to Hyacinth’s wrist heals the woman. Even at this short distance, I can see the puncture wounds knitting back together seamlessly.

“Wow.” Hyacinth lifts a shaking hand to her brow. “I know that you told me what to expect, but I honestly didn’t believe you. That was?.?.?. wow.” Her laugh is musical and downright giddy. “If you ever want a job, I think the madam would pay your weight in gold for that kind of trick.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I have other aims.” Lizzie is still staring at me, her dark eyes going heavy-lidded. “We paid for this room for the night, no?”

Hyacinth stretches leisurely. “Technically the room comes with me, but I can see that you’re not interested.”

My throat feels tight and my chest is closing in around my heart. Lizzie still hasn’t looked away from me, her attention traps me in my chair, and I can’t help the desire that rises in response. I want her so desperately that I can taste it on my tongue.

But when she speaks, her words are for the woman next to her. “I’m not interested?.?.?. in you.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” Hyacinth waves that away with a graceful flick of her wrist. “Enjoy yourselves, pretties. I certainly did.”

“I know. Now get out.”

If Hyacinth is bothered by Lizzie’s rudeness, she makes no mention of it. She rises and gives a delicious little shiver. “You’re one lucky woman, Maeve. You’ve paid me well for this experience, but I think I might’ve done it for free if I’d known exactly what it would be like.” Without another word, she slips from the room and closes the door softly behind her.

I like her. I enjoyed our conversation down in the main room. But in this moment, I want nothing more than to shove that woman over the railing and lock the door between us. The force of my violent thought staggers me. This isn’t how I operate. But then, I’ve never had to worry about sharing one of my lovers before. We’re in new territory and I don’t know how to navigate it. I don’t know if I even should.

“Maeve.” Lizzie practically purrs my name. “Did it bother you to see?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie, but what’s the point? With her powers, she can measure my racing heart, can feel the blood pooling in my cheeks, whether in embarrassment or in anger. “Yes, but not as much as it bothers me to think about you starving on my behalf.”

She holds out an imperial hand, her fingers crooking as she commands me closer without saying a word. There is a part of me that wants to resist for the sake of resisting, but I haven’t been successful denying Lizzie since we met. There’s no reason to start now.

I rise and cross to her, slipping my hand into hers and allowing her to pull me down to straddle her. She runs her hands over my thighs and catches my hips, pulling me more firmly against her. All of the tension that’s been riding her so hard since I woke up appears to have diminished. She’s not quite drunk on blood, but she’s relaxed and indolent as she courses her hands over my sides to cup my breasts. “I was thinking?.?.?.”

“I’m listening.” I can’t quite catch my breath, but why do I need to breathe when she’s touching me? I press into her palms, but she’s already moving, skating her thumbs over my collarbones and sliding her fingers down my arms to take my hands.

“I had every intention of putting some distance between us. It’s not safe for you to be with me.” She flips one of my hands over and traces the blue veins of my wrist. “But the thought of letting you go makes me want to murder something.”

I manage a breathless laugh. “Lizzie, wanting to murder something is practically your default existence.”

“Yes, but it’s different with you.” She releases my hand, and her fingers go to the buttons at the front of my shirt, undoing them slowly enough that I want to scream with frustration. “Everything’s different with you. I don’t just want to make you come so many times that you lose all track of yourself. I don’t just want to bite you because your taste is better than anyone I’ve ever known.” My shirt parts, but she keeps her hold on either side of it. “I want to keep you.”

I want to be kept by her.

I don’t say the words aloud. I can’t do that to her, to me. No matter that she seems to be feeling better, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s still in an emotionally vulnerable state. I am, too, but at least I’m self-aware enough to realize it. Lizzie doesn’t seem to be. I doubt she’s ever experienced being out of her element the way she has since arriving in Threshold. It’s thrown her into a tailspin, and she’s clinging to the one steady thing in her life right now: me.

Ultimately, it means nothing. Or, if not nothing, then not enough. Not enough to save us from heartbreak. Not enough to keep her from leaving. Not enough, not enough, not enough.

I don’t want to ruin this fragile moment between us by saying as much. Brutal honesty isn’t always the answer; I have a deep suspicion that it would hurt her. Instead, I kiss her. It’s the only thing I can do to stop this conversation from coming to its inevitable end. From us having to admit that we have an inevitable end.

She goes still for one small heartbeat, and then she’s moving, her hands coursing over my body almost too fast to register. One moment I’m straddling her, mostly dressed, and the next she’s divested me of my clothing—and herself of hers as well—and kneels between my thighs, with me on my back on the couch.

I blink up at her, slightly shaken. “You know, there’s something to be said for slow seduction.”

“Maeve, my darling, this is a slow seduction.” Her smile flashes fangs, and there’s a part of me that mourns the fact that she won’t bite me the way that she bit Hyacinth. The way that she’s bitten me previously. She may give me her body and her attention, but she fully intends to keep that part of her back. Forever.

I’m horrifically greedy for wanting it. But then, it feels like I’ve spent so much of my life in a state of wanting. The horizon, the rebellion, love. Every time, at every turn, that wanting has turned on me. But I can’t seem to make myself stop doing it. I don’t think I ever will.

Lizzie kneels between my thighs, her gaze tracing over me in a stroke that I swear I can feel. I blink. I’m not imagining it; I can feel it. Not from her touching me physically, but from her calling my blood to the surface of my skin, spreading warmth in the wake of her attention. It’s disconcerting in the extreme, and yet it feels so good that I don’t want her to stop.

I lick my lips. “What are you doing to me?”

“Counting your freckles.” The warmth spreads over my stomach in a wandering pattern before blooming in my pussy. My clit aches in time with my heartbeat. Lizzie licks her lips. “I think it may take me all night.”

I don’t know if I can stand another minute of this, let alone until dawn. I start to reach for her, but she catches my wrists easily and presses them over my head. All while that delicious heat continues its path, mapping my freckles. Over my hips, around my thighs, licking over my calves and even the tops of my feet. I shiver and writhe, seeking physical touch, but Lizzie holds herself above me and denies it to me. “Lizzie, please.”

“I have barely gotten a taste of you, Maeve. Barely shaved the edge off my desire. We’ve rushed too many times in the past, but I’m not going to rush tonight. Now, be a good girl and hold your hands in this position.”