Page 14

CHARLOTTE

“Uh, yes?” Marcus says with an adorably confused look on his face. His thick brows knit together like he’s trying to do mental math as he mutters, “Do you prefer the term sorceress or wizard or something? I’ve never really interacted with any magic users besides Eloise and my nest-mates.”

My mind is spinning, trying to grasp onto something other than this conversation. The sensations in my body, how amazingly turned on I was just a minute ago, before some life-changing bullshit came out of Marcus’ mouth.

“Please stop talking,” I whisper.

Marcus’ mouth snaps shut, the click of his teeth soft in comparison to the pounding of my heart.

Everything feels both numb and tingling. Pins and needles race up and down my arms and legs, and my fingers ache straight to the bone and not from the cold.

“This was a bad idea,” I say. “We shouldn’t have done that. You’re…well, you’re…”

The word I’m looking for doesn’t exist in my vocabulary. How can ‘ so fucking perfect for me in such a short time that it makes me want to forget everything Kennedy taught me about being a good slut and just be a bad one ’ be boiled down to a single word?

“I’m what?” Marcus tips his chin up, though his bottom lip quivers like he’s about to cry.

His eyes go a little glassy, and for the first time tonight, I notice how beautiful they look. He’s a warm yellow, all bright and as sunshiny as he is on the inside, but his eyes? They’re the most perfect shade of brown.

“Marcus! I need some help with this pot!”

Julius’ voice seems to come from nowhere and startles the hell out of me.

Marcus stands and gives me a begrudging half smile. “Finish this talk later?” he asks.

Though before I can answer, he’s gone in a blur of yellow.

I can’t help the little laugh that bubbles out from between my lips. “I knew it wasn’t a ghost.”

“I’m not a witch. I can’t be a witch. He’s wrong,” I grumble when I get back to my room, pacing back and forth on the plush carpet while trying not to lose the collective rest of my own marbles. “I need to call Kennedy, I need to…”

I grab my phone and open her contact, staring for a minute too long at the picture of us from our college days.

It was Halloween, either our sophomore or junior year, but at that point, we weren’t interested in candy.

Booze had a bigger appeal, so we wore the same costumes all four years and got blitzed out of our minds.

It was the best and worst of times. I still can’t stomach tequila.

I hold the phone to my ear as it rings once, twice, three times before going to voicemail. My shoulders slump as something inside me withers. I’m being overdramatic, but everything feels like it’s falling apart now, and she’s the only one who can help me keep it together.

I bring my fingers to my mouth and nip at my nails, ripping at the skin around my nail beds.

The sharp taste of copper fills my mouth as blood begins to weep from the small wounds.

I can’t help but roll my tongue around them to lap up the blood, even if it isn’t the cleanest of habits.

I grip my phone in my other hand, heart jumping into my throat as it chimes.

“Not a call,” I grunt in frustration as I debate chucking my phone out the window and into the loch.

The thought feels good for a second before settling into something akin to cement in my belly.

I don’t even bother to check the text right now. I need her voice to soothe me, and texting will only make this worse.

Tossing my phone onto the bed, I shake my head and head out of my room.

“I need something. Maybe snacks, maybe booze, maybe to rub it out.” I shuffle toward the kitchen, keeping my eyes glued to the floorboards, up until I smack into a wall that I don’t remember being in the middle of the hall.

“Ouch. Watch yourself, pest,” the wall hisses.

OK, definitely not a wall .

“Hey!” I snap, my head jerking up until I can lock eyes with those of the dusky gargoyle. Atlas stands far too tall above me, but I pull my shoulders back and puff out my chest. “I was clearly walking somewhere with my head down.”

“Who does that?” he asks with a scoff before dusting off the front of his plain white T-shirt as if I sullied it by bumping into him. “You need to mind yourself. This isn’t your home.”

I know it isn’t. My home is across the damn ocean, but I don’t back down.

“If that’s the case, then show me your deed,” I say with a smirk.

Atlas’s jaw tenses, and I can hear his teeth grind from his agitation. “You are a nuisance, pest. Keep out of my way until you’re gone.”

He slinks down the hall around me, his tail whipping like an agitated cat as he goes.

I can’t help it when I look after him and flip him double birds. He deserves it. I don’t really want to be here, but I need to. This place was somehow willed to me, and I don’t get any of the money that was left to me without being here for at least a bit.

“At least he didn’t call me a witch.” I shake my head, the anger boiling inside me making it hard to continue.

I curl my toes against the floor, and I have to clench my hands into fists to keep from peeling off more skin from my fingers.

“I’m not a witch, and I’m not a pest.” I force a laugh. “But that’s a new one.”

I end up wandering aimlessly around the castle, stomping like a petulant child. I want to stake some kind of claim on the space that felt like mine and not mine in equal measure.

When I’m finally calm, I find myself upstairs in front of a door left ajar with noise spilling out. It’s not a bad noise, so I take a chance and peek in.

Darius, the biggest gargoyle, sits behind a desk made to fit him, with his head tipped toward a laptop. The room is dimly lit by candles, so his light blue face is cast in hard shadows from the glow of the screen.

“I can feel you watching me, Charlotte. Come in.”

“I should have known better than to just…lurk.”

“Everyone deserves to lurk, but I am too preoccupied to endure any staring.” He leans back in his chair and gives a heavy sigh.

“You sound like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.”

“No, it’s not the entire world, but a good chunk of it.

We have to go back to more blatant protection.

” His eyes drift to a map on the far wall.

A large chunk of Europe is circled, in addition to Ireland “Before, when all supernaturals were a part of the environment of the mortal world, we played an active role in things like diplomacy and protection from natural disasters and other supernaturals. But there was a change in thought among mortals and we were all dangerous, we were forced to hide ourselves, so we shifted gears instead.”

“How so?” I step more into his office.

The heavy scent of old pages and leather fills my nose as I come to stand before his desk.

I wish I could see this space with the light on, see exactly what he’s hiding in here that I can poke around in.

We have electricity now, but this seemingly broody gargoyle is only illuminated by his laptop screen.

“Virtual protection as well as hiring human mercenaries and such. Little things to keep my mind occupied while the others were able to indulge in their passions,” he says with a dismissive wave toward his laptop.

“So you’ve still been protecting people, just without them knowing? Are you guys rich?” I ask, suddenly wondering where all the money I’m supposed to get will be coming from.

Darius leans back farther, letting his head loll back against the leather chair.

It’s similar to the one in the sitting room, but this one looks less comfortable.

He arches a brow at me, and I’m startled as I watch his skin drain of that stark blue color and take on a very human olive complexion.

His hair and horns change in a blink; his hair goes from blue to a rich brown, and his horns vanish completely as if they were never there.

“It’s not impossible for us to blend in, so yes, we protected humanity without them knowing,” he says casually, something changing in his demeanor.

His eyelids droop slightly, and a confident but lazy smile tugs at his lips.

It’s so unfair how, despite transforming out of his stone form, he keeps his chiseled cheeks and jaw.

“I don’t normally deposit and tell, but we would be very embarrassing immortals if we were not rich. ”

“I guess so,” I blurt, going instantly red in the face.

His dark eyes run over me in a way that I can damn near feel. I suddenly want to lean on the desk and beg him to fuck me. Something about his air makes me want to let him ruin me.

“I think I can see why you’re the alpha of the…nest.” I squeak out the words, the red in my face crawling down my neck and up to the tips of my ears.

“Is that right?” he asks with a chuckle as he leans forward, his fingers interlaced and his elbows resting on the desk.

Those fathomless eyes bore right into my damn soul.

Holy shit . When did the sleeves of his button-down shirt get rolled up to his elbows? It should be illegal for a man made of stone most of the time to have that many thick veins. I’m nearly salivating over them as I run my eyes over each one before finding his face again.

He grins at me, knowing exactly what I was doing. Eyeing him up like the sexy piece of man meat he undoubtedly is.

Man meat. I’ve never thought that in my life, but here I am, practically panting over this near stranger.

“Any more interesting questions, Charlotte?”

I’m tempted to either blurt out something stupid and nonsensical or just run, but instead, I take another step into his office and then another until I get to his desk. Then I perch one cheek of my bountiful ass on the edge.

“Can I watch you work for a while? I’m not in the headspace to paint, Marcus and I?—”

“What did he do?” Darius asks, shooting from his chair quicker than it takes me to blink.

“Nothing! Nothing. He’s been so sweet, and we kissed…OK, we kissed.” I sigh, trying not to let the truth slip into my expression.