Page 42 of Crossing Between

I woke with a start, momentarily disoriented by the empty space beside me where Kenji had been.

Sunlight streamed through my bedroom window, casting warm patterns across my rumpled sheets.

The events of yesterday flooded back; my brother's strange behavior, my magic's violent reaction to him, and the comfort I'd found in Kenji's arms.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. A text from Varon.

Outside. Wear something comfortable. We have a lead.

I dressed quickly in neon yellow leggings and a bright blue crop top, my version of "comfortable." After splashing water on my face and pulling my hair into a messy bun, I grabbed my bag and headed out.

Parked at the curb was Varon's sleek, gleaming car that practically screamed money. Varon leaned against it, dressed in his usual dark attire, the morning sunlight somehow making him look even more striking.

"Morning," I called, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest at the sight of him. "Nice car as always. Compensating for something? "

His lips twitched. "Get in. Kenji and Elias are following up on another lead across town."

I slid into the passenger seat of the Bentley Bacalar, immediately sinking into buttery-soft leather.

The interior smelled of Varon. As he pulled away from the curb, I found myself studying him.

The firm set of his jaw, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel with controlled strength, and the occasional flash of fang when he concentrated on navigating a turn.

"So what's this lead?" I tore my gaze away from his profile.

"A teenage girl reported missing three days ago. Nothing supernatural on the surface, but her best friend mentioned seeing someone with 'fire for eyes' following her the day before she disappeared."

I suppressed a shiver. "The Essencefeaster."

"Possibly. It's thin, but it's all we have right now."

We drove in silence for a while, the city giving way to suburbs and then to more rural landscapes.

I couldn't help comparing this Varon, the controlled, focused, dangerous man, to the one who had held me after my encounter with the Essencefeaster.

The one who had looked at me with vulnerability beneath all that control.

"You're staring," he didn't take his eyes off the road.

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"How ridiculous this is," I gestured around the car's opulent interior. "Your flashy car, your broody silence. It's like you're trying to be a vampire cliché while simultaneously avoiding it."

That earned me one of those low, amused-but-dangerous chuckles that sent heat pooling in my belly.

"And what would you prefer? That I drive a sensible sedan and chat about the weather?"

"Maybe just be, well, you. Whoever that is underneath all this." I waved my hand vaguely in his direction.

His eyes flicked to me, dark and unreadable, before returning to the road. A charged pause followed, long enough for the silence to become heavy with unspoken things.

"I drank your blood," I blurted out, unable to bear the tension.

Varon's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "I remember."

"Would you... Would you want to drink mine again?" The question hung in the air between us, bold and dangerous.

Varon stiffened instantly, his eyes flicking toward me like he was assessing if I was serious. The car slowed slightly as his focus shifted.

"It's complicated," his voice tight. "I'm ancient, Zoey. My kind, we form bonds through blood. If we were to pursue something more between us, I would want to only drink from you or someone else with your permission."

I watched his profile, the tight set of his jaw, the flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes.

"You look like you're either going to kiss me or throw me out of the car," I observed.

Without warning, Varon swerved the Bentley off the main road onto a secluded overlook that provided a sweeping view of the valley below. He cut the engine, plunging us into sudden silence broken only by my accelerated heartbeat.

He turned to face me fully, his eyes darkening. "This is dangerous. I'm not in full control right now."

"I trust you."

"Why?" The question seemed to surprise even him.

"Because you're the only one who never touches me without asking."

Something shifted in his expression, like ice cracking to reveal the depths beneath. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned across the console. I held my breath as he brushed his lips against my pulse point, his cool breath raising goosebumps along my skin.

"Last chance to change your mind," he murmured against my neck.

In answer, I tilted my head further, offering myself to him.

The initial pain was sharp but brief as his fangs pierced my skin.

Then came the pleasure, a wave of it so intense I gasped, my fingers dug into the leather seat.

It was like every nerve ending in my body had suddenly awakened, singing with sensation.

My back arched involuntarily as liquid heat coursed through my veins.

My soul magic sparked and surged, wrapping around us both in tendrils of golden light. It was the same reaction it had with Kenji, a recognition, a belonging. The warmth that flooded through my chest was overwhelming, a connection so profound it brought tears to my eyes.

Varon pulled away with visible effort, his pupils blown wide, lips stained red with my blood. He licked my skin where he'd bitten, the gesture kind, almost worshipful. The small wound closed under his ministrations, leaving only a pleasant tingling sensation.

I felt dazed, floating on waves of euphoria. My body hummed with residual pleasure, my magic still pulsing gently around us.

"Your blood sings to me," Varon's voice was rough, deeper than usual. "I'm not sure I'll ever stop wanting it."

I reached for him, pulling him toward me. Our lips met in a kiss that tasted of copper and desire. It wasn't gentle like our previous kiss on my porch. This was raw, desperate, like something had cracked open between us, releasing everything we'd been holding back.

His hands tangled in my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss. I moaned into his mouth, pressing closer despite the awkward position across the console.

Varon pulled back suddenly, his breathing ragged. "We should stop."

"Why?" I challenged, my voice husky with need. "I want this. I want you."

"Not here. Not like this." His control was visibly slipping, fangs extended, eyes dark with hunger of both kinds.

"Fuck that," I growled, surprising us both with my vehemence. "I want you to lose control. I want you to fuck me, right here, right now."

Something snapped in him at my words. With inhuman speed, he was out of the driver's seat and opening my door, pulling me out of the car. He pressed me against the side of the Bentley, his body hard and unyielding against mine.

"Is this what you want?" His voice was barely recognizable, rough with desire. "Me, losing control?"

"Yes," I breathed, my hands already working at his belt.

His mouth crashed down on mine again, hungry and demanding. His hands weren't gentle as they pushed under my crop top, palming my breasts roughly. I gasped at the sensation, arching into his touch.

"Turn around," he commanded, spinning me to face the car.

I braced my hands against the gleaming hood, the metal warm beneath my palms. Varon pressed against my back, one hand snaking around to pull down my leggings while the other pushed up my top. Cool air hit my exposed skin, making me shiver.

He yanked my leggings down just far enough, his fingers finding me already wet and ready. I moaned as he stroked me, his touch expert and demanding. His other hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my neck again.

"May I?" His breath was hot against my skin.

"Please," I gasped, already on the edge from his skilled fingers.

His fangs sank into my neck at the same moment he thrust into me from behind. The dual penetration sent shockwaves of pleasure racing through my body. I cried out, my fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth hood of the car.

Varon set a punishing pace, each thrust driving me higher. The pain-pleasure of his feeding amplified everything, creating a feedback loop of sensation that was almost too much to bear. My magic surged again, wrapping around us both in a cocoon of golden light.

"Varon," I gasped, feeling my climax approaching with frightening speed. "I'm going to cum!"

"Cum for me," he growled against my neck, his rhythm never faltering. "Let me feel you."

His words pushed me over the edge. My orgasm hit with the force of a tidal wave, tearing a scream from my throat as my body convulsed around him. Varon followed immediately after, his grip on my hips almost painful as he came inside me.

For several long moments, we remained joined, both of us trembling with aftershocks. Varon licked the wound on my neck again, sealing it with gentle care that contrasted sharply with the roughness of our coupling.

Slowly, he withdrew from me, helping me turn around to face him. His expression was a mix of satisfaction and concern as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Are you alright?" His voice was still rough.

I nodded, feeling pleasantly sore and thoroughly sated. "More than alright."

He helped me adjust my clothing, his movements now gentle and considerate. After cleaning me up with a handkerchief from his pocket (of course he carried one), he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

"We should get back on the road," he made no move to release me from the circle of his arms.

I nodded again, reluctant to break the moment but aware of our purpose. "The missing girl."

We returned to our seats, the air between us charged but comfortable. As Varon pulled back onto the main road, I noticed a subtle change in him. It was a relaxation in his shoulders, a softness around his eyes that hadn't been there before.

We drove in comfortable silence for several miles, the countryside rolling past in a blur of green and gold. I was about to ask how much further when I felt it. A disturbance in the air, a cold finger tracing down my spine.

My magic fluttered in warning, like something had sensed its pulse.

"Varon," my voice tight. "Something's wrong."

He glanced at me sharply. "What is it?"

"I don't know. But we're close to whatever it is."

He accelerated slightly, his expression hardening back into the captain I knew from work. Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to a small farmhouse set back from the road. Police tape cordoned off the front yard, and a single patrol car sat in the driveway.

As we approached the house, the feeling of wrongness intensified. My magic recoiled, sensing something dark and malevolent. The officer guarding the scene nodded to Varon, lifting the tape for us to duck under.

"Body's inside," his face grim. "Fair warning, it's not pretty."

The moment we stepped through the door, the stench hit me. Blood, decay, and something else, something sulfurous and wrong . The living room was a scene of carnage. Blood spattered the walls and furniture, and in the center of the room lay what remained of a teenage girl.

Her body was mostly intact except for one glaring detail. Her left leg was missing, severed cleanly at the hip. But it was what had been done to the body after death that turned my stomach. Words had been carved into her abdomen, the cuts precise and deliberate.

I read them aloud, my voice barely a whisper.

"You taste divine. I wonder if they'll survive you."

Varon's hand found mine, squeezing tightly as we both stared at the message. It was a taunt, a promise, and a threat left for us by the Essencefeaster.