CHAPTER 33 - MEDRA

I was following a vampire.

Because I had no other choice, I told myself. The fluffin–whose name, apparently, was Neville, of all the ridiculous names–had been my way back home. At least Blake knew where we were going.

Still, I waited until he'd led us into the tunnel beneath The Wandering Page before I spoke up.

"What the fuck was that back there?"

He'd grabbed a lamp from off the shelf in the storeroom. Now he carried it in one hand and the limp fluffin in his other.

"What do you mean?" he asked, not even pausing to look back at me.

"I mean..."

"You mean you followed me," he interrupted. "You followed me into a place you had no business being and where you had no chance in hell of being able to take care of yourself."

There was no point denying it. Still, "You're saying you had a right to be there? You snuck out of school. You wouldn't have snuck out if you'd been allowed to leave."

"No one would have stopped me."

"Then you snuck out because you didn't want anyone to see where you were going. Why?" I thought of the girl. "Why use a sellblood? I thought House Drakharrow had its own thralls."

A pause. "We do."

"Then why not feed from them?" I asked. "Or does it just get you off to go to brothels?"

"Why not mind your own fucking business?" He shot back. "Oh, wait. You can't. You're clearly obsessed with me."

"I beg your pardon?" I sputtered. "I don't think so."

"Really? Then why follow me? No, not just follow me. Why follow me all the way into The Drained Rose? You could have gone anywhere in Veilmar, but instead, you were in the next room over. Did you watch me feed, Pendragon?"

He stopped and turned around, holding the lamp up higher so he could see my face.

I felt my face flushing. Godsdammit.

He sneered. "You did. You watched me. And you fucking liked it."

He took a step towards me and I backed up.

"Stop it," I said automatically. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what? Come near you? Why not? When it's obvious you want me to. Why can't you admit it, even to yourself?"

My blush deepened. I felt furious with myself. "In your wildest dreams, Drakharrow. Not every woman on earth wants you."

"Not every woman, no. But you do." He smirked. "Did you watch the entire time I was feeding? Or did you look away? Was it too much for you?"

I didn't answer.

He lowered his voice, looking at my neck. "I can give you the same pleasure I gave her. Anytime you want. All you have to do is say the word. Just one little word. ‘Please.'"

I snapped. "No fucking way. Keep your hands and fangs off me. Besides, you're not allowed to take blood from me. You said so yourself."

His smirk deepened. "You don't even know how it works."

"Then tell me," I demanded.

He shook his head. "No way. It's more fun like this. Maybe someday you'll figure it out."

I refused to beg him for information. "Fuck you, Blake."

"Now who's dreaming, Pendragon?" He laughed.

"Let's get one thing straight," I said, stabbing my finger into his chest. "I'm not yours. I don't know how to get it through that thick highblood skull of yours..."

"Oh, so you admit I'm thick?" He smirked again.

I threw up my hands. "I'm not yours. Stop saying that word around me. It gives me the creeps. You and that word. Mine . I'm not yours. I never will be."

He gave an exaggerated yawn. "Whatever you say, Pendragon. I noticed there wasn't a single ‘thank you, Blake' in there. Even though you know I saved your life tonight. Yet again. For someone who doesn't want to belong to someone else, you sure do a shitty job of taking care of yourself."

I gritted my teeth. "Maybe if all of you highbloods weren't so feral, I wouldn't have to worry about protecting myself."

"Not all of us are feral," he said, his eyes roaming down my body. "Some of us are all about control."

"Keep telling yourself that," I retorted. "You're just as bad as that highblood who attacked me."

To my shock, fury filled his eyes. I'd gotten to him.

"We're not all like that," he spat.

"That man had clearly been murdering blightborn girls. I saw children out on the streets, begging for someone to pay for their blood. Their parents had been killed, drained of their blood. Who else would do that besides a highblood? Tell me, Blake, why do you all pretend to be so civilized? So restrained? When really you're all just monsters inside?"

He moved so quickly that I could barely register the blur of his body before he was in front of me, his face an inch away, his breath hot against my skin.

"You think I'm like him?" he growled. "You think I want this? You think I want to be tied to some mortal? To a blightborn who despises me?"

I glared at him, my chest tightening.

"But you're right about one thing, Pendragon. Why should I fight so hard to leash the monster inside when you're so determined to bring him out?"

Before I could even respond, his lips crashed against mine.

Blake's hand cupped the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding possessively into my mouth.

For a moment, I was too stunned to react, caught up in the sudden heat that was shooting through my body.

Then, to my shame, I found myself kissing him back. The taste of him overwhelmed my senses. I hated it. Hated him. Hated this. Hated how good it felt. My heart was racing. My skin tingled.

I clenched my fists by my side, desperately trying to control the storm of emotions that were sweeping through me.

And then it was over as quickly as it had begun.

Blake pulled away, breathing hard, his gray eyes dark with a mixture of triumph...and confusion.

He turned away from me and stalked down the tunnel.

I stood there, frozen for a moment, my hands trembling.

Then I followed.

"Well, at least now we know where Neville has been going," I finished, sinking down onto Florence's bed.

"Neville?" Florence's eyes were wide. I'd woken her up when I'd brought the fluffin back.

Blake hadn't said another word to me until we reached the Dragon Court. Then all he'd done was shove the fluffin at me and tell me to bring it to him if the pup didn't recover by the next day.

I'd wanted to ask him why he didn't just take the fluffin, but I hadn't.

Hadn't dared.

Florence was looking at me curiously. I colored.

"Um, Blake Drakharrow seems to have named the fluffin Neville," I confessed to her.

We looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

"Neville?" Florence sputtered. " Neville ? Why Neville?" She gawked at me. "Are you really saying the fluffin–I mean, Neville–has been sneaking away to visit your..." She stopped herself just in time. "To visit Blake Drakharrow?"

She fell backwards onto her bed, giggling again. "That might just be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Hey, you're the one who loves highbloods. Can't a highblood love a fluffin?" The question sounded so silly, we burst out laughing again.

"A highblood can do whatever they want, I suppose," Florence said at last. "But Blake? I mean... I would never have taken him for a fluffin-lover."

"Florence, please. If we don't stop putting Blake in the same sentence as a fluffin, I'm never going to be able to stop laughing," I groaned.

"What I don't understand is why Neville keeps coming back here," Florence said, leaning over to pat the fluffin's fluffy head. Neville perked up a little, then fell back asleep. He seemed to be recovering after his nasty ordeal with the highblood.

"Maybe they're not allowed to have pets in Drakharrow Tower either?" I suggested.

She shook her head. "I'm pretty sure the highbloods are allowed to do whatever they want over there. That goes double if you're a House Leader."

"Maybe Neville–" I suppressed a giggle. "Maybe he keeps trying to get back to Blake, but Blake keeps sending him back to us?"

"That would make sense. But it's also a little sad. Why doesn't Blake just keep him?"

"I mean, I guess it might be a little embarrassing for the big, bad House Leader to keep a fluffin?" I said, snorting with laughter. "Poor Neville. He deserves better than Blake."

Florence looked at me consideringly. "So do you, I guess."

I blushed. "I mean, he did save me from that highblood. Do you think I should have thanked him?"

"Do you? You said yourself the highblood would probably have killed you."

I looked away. "I don't know. Blake's different from anyone I've ever met. He's not... fully evil, I guess. But he's certainly not good either. He's selfish and controlling. He acts like he owns me. But he doesn't want me to get hurt. It's confusing."

I hadn't told her Blake had kissed me. It was too humiliating. I'd only told her that he'd killed for me. Which was somehow slightly better. I wasn't sure why.

"What do you think of him feeding from a sellblood?" Florence asked, eying me curiously.

"I was going to ask you that same question," I said.

She tilted her head, her dark eyes thoughtful. "I think it says something about him. Something neither of you might want to admit."

"Something bad?"

"No, the opposite. He'd rather feed from someone who's willing. He didn't hurt her, did he? The sellblood girl?"

I shook my head. I hated thinking about her. "No, she seemed to enjoy herself quite a bit, in fact."

"I can't believe you watched," Florence said, a little admiringly. "That was rather daring."

"Blake Drakharrow doesn't have a right to privacy, as far as I'm concerned," I countered. "I wasn't trying to be daring. I just wanted to figure out what he was up to."

I thought of Professor Rodriguez. How he and Blake had met outside The Drained Rose. It was clear it wasn't for the first time either.

"But speaking of daring," I said slowly. "I have a dare for you..."

Back in my own room a little while later, I lay beneath the blankets, unable to sleep even though I knew there were only a few hours left before I'd have to wake up for class.

My head was spinning and it wouldn't stop.

Mine, he'd said.

It wasn't the first time he'd said it. But it felt like the first time I'd actually been truly listening.

Mine, he'd said.

And at that moment, my heart had quickened. My useless, traitorous heart.

The words had felt true.

But they weren't true.

They couldn't be. I wouldn't let them be.

I forced myself to think of something else.

Professor Rodriguez's book still lay on my bedside table. I couldn't risk keeping it much longer. Florence had promised to help me get it back into his office the next day. She'd distract him while I slipped inside and shoved it back on the shelf.

I'd placed Coregon's dagger high on a shelf. I'd managed to shove it back into my boot before Blake had noticed me carrying it. I'd have to find a sheath for it. Then perhaps I could carry it around, without having Orcades exposed to everything I saw or did.

Part of me was glad she was still here. But I knew this wasn't what she'd hoped for.

Tomorrow was the start of Wintermark term. In a few weeks there would be festivities, a school break, even a ball. I knew Florence and Naveen were excited about the first real school holidays. It turned out Naveen played the flute and planned to audition to join the school band.

The last autumn leaves had fallen days ago. The air had turned crisp and cold.

I fell asleep and dreamed of snow and dragons.