Chapter 18

Rowan is a tree of power causing life and magick to flower

– The Wiccan Rede

My mouth lifted to his as if drawn by an invisible string, and the moment that our lips touched, it was as if a beast was released within me. I fisted his shirt tugging him towards me and ravished his mouth, forcing his lips to part beneath the demand of my tongue.

He was a feast, and I was starving.

His hands scooped up my skirt and cupped my arse, his fingers kneading into the flesh, rocking my hips forward and grinding his cock between us until that was not enough for either of us. He lifted me so that I wrapped my legs around his waist. I dug my hands into his hair, my kisses clumsy and panted, moving from his mouth along his jaw.

"My cock, Nyx," Mal prompted with a groan, and I released his hair to dig between us, releasing his cock from his trousers, and pulling my underwear aside so that I could feel the rub of that warm silken skin against my aching cunt. "By the Hells, yes."

I was crazed with need. I needed him within me, his mouth to mine, his flesh and bone against mine… But this went so much beyond that. I wanted to consume him. My need for his body was more than scratching a sexual itch and meeting desire with desire, it was a hunger, a craving. I wanted to feast on his flesh and his lust. I wanted to taste his blood on my tongue whilst I came.

I pushed my face into his neck. I could smell his blood beneath his skin, hear his heart, and feel the pulse of his veins. I touched his skin with my tongue – beneath the salt he was sweet, and my stomach clenched and rumbled within me.

"Yes," he barely breathed it. He had gone still, his head bowed to the side in anticipation. "Yes, take it, Nyx."

With a moan, I shifted, taking his cock within me as I sank my elongated pre-molars into him, penetrating him as he penetrated me, feeding both the desire of my mouth and my cunt at once. He groaned, deep and ragged.

"Oh, yes," his hold on my hips tightened and he thrusted into me with a clench of his arse cheeks. "Yes…" He twisted, sitting in the passenger seat he had pulled me from, and I found that with my knees against the seat, I had traction to drive my body against his. I did so with enough force that his breath was pushed from his lungs.

"Greedy little succubus," he laughed. "But not too much, my love, I'm spicy," was groaned, his hands in my hair turning from cupping my skull, into using my hair to pull my face back from the curve of his neck. He panted as he grinned at me. "Though I know I'm delicious."

For a moment, with my vision clouded behind the red wash of bloodlust and desire, I snarled at him through my teeth. His hand twisted into my hair, the drag edging into pain, and the fire burned in his eyes, dancing with wicked sensuality.

"That's right," he crooned. "Snarl and snap at me, ferocious one. All flame and fire. You burn me with your touch. Together we are volcanic. Can you feel how we burn together?" His nostrils flared as he breathed in and released it. "Can you smell the sulphur? It smells like sex."

He lifted from the seat with effortless strength, pulling me from him, and setting me onto the ground. Before I could protest, he turned me without releasing his hold on my hair, the strands tightening the pull against my scalp, and pushed me forward over the still-warm bonnet of the car, nudging my thighs apart.

"Pull up your skirt," he purred into my ear. "I am going to fuck you hard and fast, just as you want to be taken, until you toe the line where pleasure and pain blur into one, and you are not entirely sure you will survive the orgasm."

I pulled up my skirt and moaned against the smooth surface of the bonnet as he arched his body over me, my toes barely touching the ground as he thrusted with a grunt, pushing me into the metal. His free hand curled around me, his fingertips pressing against my clit, and each hard thrust rubbed my clit against them until I was sobbing from the mounting pressure of pleasure, desperate for the crest and relief.

His cry was sharp, startling the birds from the trees so that the sky was filled with feathers as I came, clutching around him, and felt the pulse and heat within me as he followed.

His heart raced and his breath was panted as he collapsed heavily over me, his lips against my cheek.

The burning need was gone, and I lay in shock, fighting back tears. "What is wrong with me?" The wail burst free. "I bit you. I drank your blood. What did you do to me?"

For a moment, he did not reply, fighting to recover his breath, and he did not move from me, using his body weight to hold me down, although I did not struggle for freedom and just dripped my tears onto the highly waxed surface of the bonnet.

"Did your aunts not teach you about the balance of magic? You were dying, Nyx, and I was stealing you from Death himself. It wasn't a simple process and required a little… tweaking of your humanity. It's not a big deal, at all, just an accentuation of your natural talents. And believe me," he purred the words. "I am more than happy to satisfy your new appetites at any time."

"What… what is that you have done? Am I a vampire?" I could taste his blood on my tongue, feel it warm within my stomach. He was right. His blood was spicy, and a burn moved through me from lips to cunt, as if cum and blood sought to meet within.

"No," he laughed it. "Fuck no. You weren't that far gone that I had to bring you back to life. You invoked me in the nick of time. Just… when you get the itch and a bit hungry, invoke me, we'll fuck, you'll drink from me, and carry on. No big deal."

"Those people… In the grocery store…" I was beginning to put the pieces together.

"Like I said," he lifted from me and tucked his cock away, before fixing his top and running his hands through his hair, settling the red strands back into glossy order. "It's not a problem, Nyx, as long as you're not feeling horny and hungry, and when you are, call for me and I'll make sure you can feed safely."

"Shit," I rolled over and slid off the car. I pulled my underwear back into place to capture the run of cum that began to leak from me. I felt… soiled and ashamed. And confused. Very confused. "Mal…"

"We're going to be late," he adjusted my dress, and my hair briskly, before running his thumb under my lip, cleaning up the line of lipstick. "Give it time, Nyx. A lot has happened very quickly. You will need time to grow accustomed to the changes."

He rounded to the driver's side and slid into the seat, starting the engine, before looking up at me. "Well?" He asked, arching an eyebrow. "Come along, Nyx."

I got in. "Mal," I tried again. "What did you do to me?"

He heaved a sigh and twisted in his seat whilst he performed a three-point turn, pointing us back towards the road to Pinegrove Academy. "I saved you, Nyx. I bent some rules so hard that Hell is using my negotiation skills as a precedent, but I saved you. Honestly," he slid me a look out of the corner of his eye. "You were pretty broken. There wasn't a lot of wriggle room for me to work with, but work I did, and voila, here we are, pretty much as if yesterday didn't happen. All you need to do," he swung the Porsche through the gates of Pinegrove and steered it down the winding drive, between the overgrown trees. "Is have a little sinful feast of your demon familiar's massive cock on a regular basis and everything will be fine. Trust me. It's going to be great."

He parked the car and grinned at me. "We're going to be a legendary pair, you and I, Nyx." He didn't wait for my response, grabbing the picnic basket from the rear of the car on his way to open the door. He offered me his hand. "Now let's go find a nice spot for a picnic."

I followed him through the pretty gardens until he picked a spot dappled with shade and produced a checked tablecloth, spreading it over the grass, and set the picnic basket down on top. I watched him, numbly, my mind a whirl with everything that we had spoken of, searching my memories of the Grimoires for an explanation that would tie together the threads of information he was sharing.

He had told me what I was, whether by a slip of the tongue or as a tease, counting on me not noticing the word amongst the sex.

"You made me into a… a succubus," I tested it with him.

There was an almost imperceptible pause in his unpacking of the picnic basket, perhaps the slightest tension in the fabric of his top across his shoulders. And then he looked up, fire in his eyes and a smile on his lips. "Not now, Nyx," he nodded with his chin behind me. "We're not alone."

I turned and saw that Xander, Laurie, Dawson, and Fleur were crossing the garden towards us. Xander suddenly took a detour, and the other two men laughed as he vomited noisily into a rose garden – thankfully a decent distance away.

The three left Xander to his violent regurgitation and continued to join Mal and me at the picnic site.

"You'll have to forgive Xander," Laurie laughed. "He had a bit too much to drink last night and has been chucking his guts up all day."

"Normally holds his liquor better," Dawson mocked as he threw himself down in a spread of long limbs. "I guess the legendary stomach had to surrender to tequila eventually." He helped himself to the food spread on the checked tablecloth.

"Champagne?" Mal held the bottle out.

"Oh, thanks," Fleur picked up a glass so that he could fill it. She sat beside me, her eyes flicking with worry to where Xander was sick.

"What was the event last night?" I wondered. It was odd to think that I had almost died and had spent the night burning under whatever magic Mal had cast to save me, whilst the four humans had been drinking and partying.

Fleur shrugged. "When do they ever need an event?" She took her eyes off Xander and met mine with an arch of a brow. "Other people vomiting makes me nauseous. Let's talk about something else, or I will join Xander. Are you looking forward to classes starting?"

"Nervous," I admitted. "I haven't even received my uniform yet."

"You'll be fine. The Dean loves you," she assured me.

"You right man?" Laurie called out to Xander. "Ugh," he said to us. "I can do a lot of things, but vomit isn't one of them."

"I'm sorry," Xander staggered away from the rose bush but kept his distance, his eyes averted and his face pale. "I shouldn't have come. I'm going to go…" He turned and headed back towards the dorms without waiting for a reply.

"So," Mal topped up the champagne glasses. "What are your goals for the future?"

"Goals?" Dawson drawled. "Beyond always beating Laurie at pool?"

"Mmm," Mal's smile was a tight press of lips. "Other than beating Laurie at pool. Where do you see yourself in five years' time?"

"That's easy," Laurie grinned. "On a yacht somewhere warm, where the water is brilliant blue, with a gorgeous supermodel – no, make that two, actually. Two gorgeous twins," his grin was predatory and his eyes gleamed as he nodded to Dawson who was smirking in approval. "Twin supermodels who have no gag reflexes and live on cum."

"Hardly original," Mal raised his eyebrows. "But it's a classic for a reason. How do you think you'll get your dream?" He asked him.

Laurie's eyes were shadowed, and he gave a bit of a shrug as he looked away, but Dawson guffawed and nudged him. "He's pouting," Dawson told them. "Because daddy-dearest isn't happy. Last years' results weren't up to par - "

"Mainly because we partied when we should have been in class," Laurie muttered, disgruntled.

"Whatever. My dad doesn't care as long as I scrape a pass. A degree is a degree after all, and that's all I need to start with the family business," Dawson was smug.

"A pass won't get me into law school," Laurie was irritable. "Or at least not the right one."

"Daddy will pay for your entry, why are you worried?" Dawson sneered.

"If I want to get into politics, we can't grease my way into law school," Laurie pointed out tightly. "That's the sort of thing the media will dig up in no time and use against me."

"And what about you?" Mal had enough material, I realized, to strike a deal with Laurie, and so shifted his attention to Dawson, searching for the other man's weakness to exploit. I worried my bottom lip with my teeth. It felt wrong to sit by while Mal used the guise of friendship to broker deals for souls, but I wasn't a fool and knew that was the nature of demons – and that Mal would have a quota to fill which if unmet, would see him punished for failure.

I didn't want that, either.

"What do you most desire?" Mal prompted Dawson. "What do you want in five year's time?"

"I don't know," Dawson loaded a cracker with meat and cheese and popped it whole into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "I mean, I'm rich. Handsome. Talented," he preened a little. "What more does a guy need?"

"A beautiful woman? Or a man?" Mal suggested.

Dawson's eyes flicked to me, and I wondered for a moment if we were about to have a repeat of the grocery store, if feeding on Mal had worn off already. I didn't feel hungry. It was very weird to think of living my life deciding whether or not I could be around other people depending on whether I was hungry and horny…

"I guess that would be nice," Dawson agreed. "But they sort of come along on their own when you have money and looks."

"I'd like to be powerful," Fleur said quietly.

Mal looked at her and raised his eyebrow. "Powerful? In what way?"

She flushed and gave a slightly awkward shrug. "I mean… Men are powerful. You're asking Laurie and Dawson what they want, and they don't think of power, because they expect it. It's normal for them. If you're a rich, handsome man, from an influential family, you automatically become powerful. You hire and fire people at will, you get the best tables when you go somewhere, you get the promotion, someone calls you sir and serves you coffee. But if you're a woman, if you're rich and beautiful and from an influential family, you're not powerful. You're a part of a man's power. Men get to have you. It"s rarely the other way around, and I guarantee you the women who are powerful, had to shed blood to be there."

"Feminist bull crap," Laurie said in disgust.

"Fine. I want hot twin men and a yacht somewhere sunny," her lip curled in half a sneer.

"You don't really," Laurie's posture changed, sitting upright and straight-backed. He did not like the direction of the conversation or Fleur's attitude. "You're just being a bitch."

"So, I'm a bitch if I want the same things as you do?" She had baited the trap and he'd stepped into it, and she seized upon his comment with relish that revealed a long-buried resentment.

Mal leaned back against me, thoroughly enjoying how riled up the two of them had become. I could all but see him plotting the deals he would make with them. Laurie would pass with flying colors and get into the law school of his choice apparently on his own merit, and Fleur would get power, in whatever form she desired.

In the shadows of a tree, a man in a cloak watched us. My heart leaped into my throat. Ender. In his grim reaper form, faded and almost lost to sight, the light just picking out the smooth gleam of skull, the curl of horn, and the flames within his eyes. The humans would not see him – could not see him through the veil. I did not doubt that he had deliberately revealed himself to me, wanting to be seen.

And then he was gone.

"Nyx?" Mal drew my attention back to him. His expression was sharp, and his eyes went from me to the tree. He had not seen Ender, but he had seen my distraction, and that the tree had been the focus of it. He was smart enough to add one-to-one and come up with two.

"Sorry," I said to him, trying to dismiss his concerns. "There was a bird that caught my eye. What were you all saying?"

"What type of bird?" Mal asked.

"A raven."

"Mal asked what you desired to be or have in five years' time," Fleur prompted me, her eyes darting between us. She did not know what was going on, but she knew that something was.

What did I want in five years' time? I wondered. "I don't know," I said slowly. "I had thought I did, but things change, and now, I'm not sure that what I wanted is possible… Or that I still want it at all."

"It is something to consider," Mal refilled everyone's wine glasses. "I often ask people what they most want, and what they're willing to sacrifice in order to get it, and their answers always intrigue me, some because they are so basic and boring, but others because of how unusual and creative they are."

He let them turn the conversation to other things and pressed a wine glass into my hand. "You're not drinking, Nyx."

"I'm not thirsty," I replied honestly.

"Hmm, I'm rather thirst-quenching, aren't I," he preened a little. He leaned into me. "I am looking forward to returning you to your bed. Our encounters have been somewhat creative, but hasty due to the precarious nature of the locations. The things I will do to you, show you, with the advantage of time and tools, will sate your hunger for weeks."

"Mal…" I felt the hot flush creep up my skin. Embarrassment… and desire. My eyes flicked to the shadows of the tree where Ender had been. It felt like a betrayal, I admitted to myself. As if I were being unfaithful to Ender by being with Mal – and that was ridiculous, as Ender had never minded. That had been before, though, I amended. When Ender had been anticipating my death and had known that would end my time with Mal and make me Ender's alone. It was easier to share when a person knew that sharing was temporary, after all.

"Anticipation makes everything so much sweeter," he whispered, his lips against the point of my cheekbone, and his breath warming my ear. "But I said I'd take you shopping, did I not," he rose fluidly to his feet and offered me his hand. "And I had best fulfill my promises. Enjoy the picnic," he added to the other three. "We'll see you again soon."