Page 42 of Extraordinary Quests for Amateur Witches

As soon as there was open air between them, Sebastian winced, taking a step back. He clapped a hand over his nose and mouth. For a moment, Kieran was offended—he’d showered just recently—until he realized it was his blood that Sebastian was smelling.

Sebastian, voice muffled by his hand, said, “This is a bad idea, Kieran. You should go.”

“And let you starve? No.” Kieran stepped inside, then shut the door behind him.

His pulse thrummed. While this was far bolder than he usually felt, strangely, he wasn’t paralyzed with anxiety.

This wasn’t some stolen kiss that made his brain go dark.

This was Sebastian’s well-being—something he’d recently found himself caring about more and more.

Kieran took a step closer to Sebastian. Even in this form, starved and fraying, he was still breathtaking. His lips were just as soft despite the fangs behind them. To see him there, beneath the visage of his curse, was to understand the meaning of grotesque beauty.

“Drink from me,” Kieran said. He’d never heard his voice come out quite so certain. In an odd way, he was suddenly reminded of his father—how steadfast he was, unable to be moved by even the most powerful forces. While he wanted to emulate very few of his father’s traits, this wasn’t a bad one.

“I can write a spell to help keep your mind clear,” Kieran promised before Sebastian could open his mouth to argue. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his well-worn journal and a pen. “That way you won’t lose control.”

Sebastian, to his credit, looked absolutely mortified. “I— You’re not kidding.”

“Of course not.” Kieran began penning a paragraph comparing lucidity to the blade of a knife.

His magic stirred easily, even now. He absently asked, “So where’s the best place for you to bite me?

Neck? Wrists? I guess there’s also that big artery in the thigh.

” He paused as the mental image of Sebastian’s face against his bare thigh flickered through his mind, and he immediately felt his face grow hot. “Okay, maybe not—”

“Neck,” Sebastian interrupted. He tried to swallow, but it seemed his mouth was still too dry. “Neck is easiest. And…lying down helps too. That way there’s no risk of your collapsing.”

Lying down? Kieran didn’t take his eyes off the page as he wrote, even as his palms began to sweat. This is turning into that one book Briar let me borrow.

“I—I think I can do that,” Kieran said. He had only a few words left to write before his spell was done.

The feeling of his magic rushing through his hands and through the pen was enough to slow his pulse and help him stand straighter.

It was as if someone had turned his blood into soda water.

It was both electric and soft at the same time, almost like a phantom kiss that sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“There.” Kieran drew the final period and passed the spell to Sebastian to read. While Sebastian’s eyes moved across the page, Kieran added, “Let me know if that helps. In the meantime, should…should we put a towel down?”

Sebastian paused in reading, nose wrinkling. “On the bed?”

Kieran’s face lit up with a burning blush. It was almost enough to throw him off, but he quickly explained: “Well, mind you, these sheets are very expensive. One thousand thread count. It would be a shame for them to get all…bloodstained.”

Sebastian just stared at him, his primary eyes wide. Kieran found it comforting that he could at least do that, even if the bloodlust was burning him from the inside. It seemed the spell had helped. “Out of anything you could fixate on…you’re worried about stains ?”

“I cannot stress enough how many hours of making lattes it would take for me to replace these,” Kieran shot back.

“Well…I guess that’s fair.” Sebastian nodded. “I’ll grab a towel. And, uh—thanks for the spell. It helps.”

Once Sebastian’s back was turned, Kieran exhaled, doing his best not to go into a spiral.

Was this dangerous? Almost certainly. Could he get hurt?

Yes. But at the same time, part of him felt oddly happy that Sebastian had agreed.

It seemed vulnerable, in a way, to let Kieran see this part of himself that he seemed so desperate to hide.

Outside, Kieran heard the wind whistling.

As he went to Sebastian’s bed, he glanced out the window.

The blizzard had begun. While they were flying high enough to avoid the brunt of it, Kieran could still see crackles of lightning skittering across the clouds below.

They were so thick they looked almost solid enough to walk on.

The way they moved felt too slow and relaxed, considering the wreckage lightning and snow like that could cause below.

Sebastian returned from his bathroom with a towel. Seeing Kieran’s expression, he said, “You can still say no. You really don’t have to do this.”

Kieran shook his head. “I’m sure—really.”

Sebastian studied him a moment longer, as if trying to read his face for signs of hesitation.

Kieran wouldn’t necessarily call what he was feeling fear—more like anticipation.

Ultimately, he trusted Sebastian. Even if he hadn’t been forthright about his secret—and there certainly seemed to be more Kieran didn’t know about him—Kieran was inclined to believe he wouldn’t hurt him on purpose.

He’d been so gentle the last few days, letting Kieran take the lead when they snuck away together to kiss on the observation deck.

It had made Kieran feel confident in a way he hadn’t before.

Sebastian handed Kieran the towel, and he laid it out over the pillow.

Kieran lay back on it while Sebastian slid onto the comforter, straddling Kieran’s hips with his knees.

Kieran looked up at him, noticing how all of his eyes were trained on Kieran’s throat.

He could imagine what it must look like, his jugular pulsing with each rabbit-quick beat of his heart.

For a moment, Sebastian’s eyes seemed to glaze over, their red glow growing brighter.

His lips parted, revealing the edges of his fangs.

He hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Kieran promised. “Really.”

Another long second passed before Sebastian nodded, closing his primary eyes.

Gently, he leaned down, using his spiderlike fingers to brush away a loose curl that had fallen over Kieran’s neck.

They were sharp, and Kieran had to stop himself from cringing.

With one long finger, Sebastian gently pushed Kieran’s chin to the side, exposing his throat.

As soon as he did, his restraint seemed to fall away. So fast that Kieran barely had time to make a sound, Sebastian was on top of him, fangs piercing his throat.

Kieran gasped as pain cut through him like an electric shock.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hand fisting around the comforter as he winced.

His body tensed until the pain was suddenly replaced with a warm sensation, and he didn’t feel the punctures in his neck anymore.

Instead, it was just low heat and the gentle kiss of Sebastian’s lips against Kieran’s skin.

If he hadn’t known better, he might have assumed it was nothing but a kiss.

The heat of Sebastian’s venom quickly spread through Kieran’s body with each pump of his heart, melting away his sense of fear.

Sebastian had been right—it was pleasant.

Far more than Kieran ever would have guessed.

He slid one hand into Sebastian’s hair while the other went to his back, feeling the warmth coming off him in waves.

Sebastian drank for only a few more seconds before pulling away from Kieran’s throat, gasping for breath. The extra eyes had vanished, and his normal ones had returned to dark brown.

He rubbed a hand over two ruby drip lines on either side of his mouth, wiping most of it away. “Thank you,” he whispered. He pressed a kiss to Kieran’s cheek, then moved his legs so he sat beside him, still trying to catch his breath.

Kieran gingerly touched his neck and felt puncture marks from Sebastian’s top and bottom fangs, though they didn’t seem to be bleeding. Something about Sebastian’s venom made the blood clot faster.

“Are you okay?” Sebastian asked. Kieran realized he hadn’t responded when Sebastian had spoken before, and nodded, his head still cloudy from the euphoria that had consumed him.

“I—I think so.” His nose wrinkled. “Should I disinfect this? Or put some ointment on it? I wouldn’t want to get an infection—”

Much to his surprise, Sebastian sputtered a laugh. When Kieran looked at him, wounded, Sebastian explained: “The holes will close on their own in a few minutes. The venom helps with that. There shouldn’t be any marks or anything either.”

Kieran breathed a sigh of relief. He could just imagine Briar’s face if she knew what he had done, and how much she would rib him for it if she ever found out. “That’s probably for the best.”

He sat up, feeling a little lightheaded but otherwise unharmed. He pressed his back against the headboard, letting his shoulders slump. Looking sideways at Sebastian, he added, “Did you get enough to last you until tomorrow?”

Sebastian nodded. “I’ll still need to hunt in a few days, but…I should be fine for now. Truly, I cannot thank you enough, Kieran. You…really saved me from myself.”

“From your curse,” Kieran corrected. When Sebastian tilted his head to the side in confusion, Kieran said, “You are not your curse. That’s something Delilah really hammered home back when I still had mine.

It’s better to remember that it isn’t your fault that you have one, so you don’t define yourself by it. ”

Sebastian pushed a lock of hair out of his face. “But…what if it was my fault?”

Kieran’s brow wrinkled. He couldn’t imagine why Sebastian would think that—in all his experiences with curses, the people who cast them were the villains, not the people being cursed. It was why he harbored so much self-hatred for what had happened with Ash.

“Unless you cursed yourself, I don’t know how it could be.”

“I…” Sebastian trailed off, waving his hand. “Maybe you’re right. But…thank you, Kieran. Genuinely.”

And while Kieran smiled and nodded at that, in the back of his mind, all he could think of was that single statement:

What if it was my fault?