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“What happened?” he asks as he moves away, his hands skimming up and down my arms like he can’t quite believe I’m flesh and blood again—or like he’s checking for injuries. “Why’d you shift?”
“Because you were being a jerk, and I was tired of listening to it, so I shifted to make sure I didn’t have to listen anymore.”
His mouth drops open for the second time in as many minutes, and behind us, Amka just shakes her head, chuckling. Hudson is too busy glaring at me to spare her so much as a glance, so she winks and gives me a thumbs-up sign. Apparently, I’m not the only one who thinks guys need to be put in their place when they act like overbearing jerks.
I have one moment to think to myself that I would never pull something like that on Jaxon, before Hudson is snarling, “Turning yourself to stone is the most immature use of powers I have ever heard of.” Once again, his fangs are on full display, and I can’t decide if he’s trying to scare me or if it’s just because he’s that mad, he can’t control them.
In the end, I decide it doesn’t matter, that two can play this game. So I finish packing up my stuff, and then I lean forward until our faces are only about an inch apart. Then I tell him, “No, the most immature use of my powers would have been if I’d turned you to stone.”
Then I pat him on the shoulder—half threat, half reassurance—and sweep right past him. I wave at Amka on my way out the door and leave Hudson to either stew in his own anger or swallow his pride and scramble after me.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him to pick the second choice.
A Little
Thread-to-Thread
Competition
I’m halfway to the staircase, just about convinced he’s let his anger get the best of him, when Hudson catches me. And when I say he catches me, I mean exactly that.
I’m watching for him, listening for him, and still he moves so quickly and quietly that it’s a shock when he wraps his hand around my wrist from behind and whirls me around. His hold is gentle despite the fact that the whole yank and spin happens so fast that I barely understand what’s going on until I find myself face-to-face with a half-annoyed, half-amused vampire.
Hudson, however, knows exactly what’s happening as he invades my space, backing me up until I can’t go any farther, until my back is literally against the ancient tapestry–lined wall.
I think about pulling my wrist free, but he must sense it because his hold gets a little tighter—not tight enough to hurt but definitely tight enough that I feel the cold press of his fingers against the sensitive skin of my inner wrist.
“You don’t think you’re the only one who can use your powers irresponsibly, do you?” he asks, and there’s just enough arrogance in the question to set my teeth on edge…and, conversely, to make my breath catch in my throat.
Which makes me feel like such a cliché. Come on.
Boy acts like jerk. Girl gets one up on boy. Boy beats his chest and girl falls under his spell?
Umm, no thank you. It’s going to take more than some random chest beating to get me to fall into line—no matter how attractive and creative the guy doing the chest beating is.
Which is why I say, “I thought you told me that you didn’t need to use your powers,” in the most bored voice I can muster. “You are a vampire, after all.”
“That was an observation, not a statement of intent,” he answers, and now he’s so close that I can feel his breath hot against my ear.
Shivers that have nothing to do with fear work their way down my spine, and I squirm a little, trying to put some more space between his mouth and my skin—not because I don’t like the feel of him but because I’m afraid that I might like it too much.
“Bummer,” I tell him when I’ve finally achieved a satisfactory distance from his face. “I was looking forward to you blowing stuff up again.”
He turns serious, the mischievous glint fading from his eyes. “And here I’ve been working really hard to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
His voice is as sardonic as ever, but I know Hudson well enough by now to recognize the sincerity running just below the sarcasm.
It sneaks past the defenses I’ve had in place all night, and I answer, “Yeah, so have I,” before I even realize I’m going to say it.
His shoulders slump, and for a second, he looks more defeated than I have ever seen him. “This is a huge mess, Grace.”
“The hugest,” I agree, right before he lowers his forehead to mine.
It feels like an intimate position—an intimate moment—and I think about pulling away. But intimate doesn’t necessarily mean sexual. We’ve had plenty of intimate moments—he lived in my head for weeks. And so I tell myself this is just one more.
Besides, I think I need his comfort at least as much as he needs mine.
And so I do the only thing I can do in this situation, the only thing that feels right. I pull my wrist from his now loose hold and wrap my arms around him. The universe might have played one hell of a practical joke on us when it made us mates, but right now we’re just two friends sharing a quiet moment in a fucked-up situation.
Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
The embrace only lasts a minute, but it’s enough for me to memorize the feel of his long, lithe body against my own.
Long enough for me to feel the super-fast beat of his heart beneath my hands.
More than long enough for me to…
“I felt you,” I tell him when he finally takes a step back. “When I was stone. I felt you along the mating bond. You were trying to get to me.”
And just that easily, annoyance and something else—something I don’t quite recognize—flash back into his eyes. “I thought something had happened to you, that you’d managed to get yourself stuck as a statue again. Or maybe someone had done a kind of spell on you. It freaked me out.” The look he gives me warns me not to do something like that again.
“Yeah, well, I really didn’t like the way you were talking to me. I’m not a child, and I don’t appreciate you treating me like one.”
I think I can actually hear Hudson’s teeth grind together, but in the end, all he does is incline his head and say, “You’re right. I apologize.”
His admission astonishes me, so much so that I say, “I’m sorry, I thought I was talking to Hudson Vega.”
“Never mind,” he mutters as he pulls away and starts walking again.
I fall into step behind him, appreciating the way he always keeps his stride short for me so that I don’t have to scramble to keep up.
“So you used the mating bond to try to get to me?” I ask as we round a corner.
He looks uncomfortable with the subject, and maybe I should lay off, but how am I supposed to know how the mating bond works if I don’t ask questions? These are the kinds of details they don’t cover in my magic class, the kinds of things I don’t think to ask until I experience them.
“I used it to send you energy, the same way you did to me after the Circle challenge.” He shoots me a look. “You remember. When it nearly killed you.”
“I’m pretty sure that was your father’s bite,” I shoot back. “And what was I supposed to do, die with your powers still inside me?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Trust me not to let you die at all?” He sounds so exasperated that I nearly laugh. Only the knowledge that it will aggravate him even more keeps me from cracking up.
“I did trust you,” I tell him as we finally reach the stairs. “I mean, I do trust you.”
The look he gives me is searing, even before he reaches between us and takes my hand. He squeezes it softly before letting it go again.
“So you saw our mating bond?” he asks as we make it to the top of the stairs.
“I see it every day,” I answer. “But it looked different today. Like it was all lit up and sparking with energy.” I look at the strings again, and the sparks coming off it are gone, but it is still glowing.
“I’m pretty sure the sparks were me, trying to get to you.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured, too.”
“Did you notice anything else?” he asks as he steers me into the long hallway that leads to my room.
“Like what?”
He clears his throat a couple of times and keeps his eyes facing straight ahead as he says, “Like how different it looked from the bond you had with Jaxon?”
“Seriously, Hudson? You’re comparing bonds now?” My tone suggests he’s comparing something else.
“Not like that!” It’s his turn to roll his eyes at me. “But I’ve been reading up on mating bonds, and every single thing I find about them comes to the same conclusion.”
“And what’s that?” I ask warily.
“That they can’t be broken. Not with magic, not with will. The only thing that breaks them is death, and—”
“Sometimes not even then,” I finish for him. “I know, I know. I got the same speech from Macy.”
“Yeah, but Cole broke your bond with Jaxon—”
“I am aware of that,” I tell him with just a hint of my own sarcasm. “I was there, in case you don’t remember.”
“I know, Grace.” He sighs. “And I’m not trying to hurt you by talking about it. But every book ever written on the subject can’t be wrong. Which got me thinking—”