Diadem of Blood and Bones Page 6

  Without giving it another thought, he slid off the bed after her, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him.

  She melted, body lax, and angled her butt to press against his stiffened length. “Hud…” His name was a sigh.

  Sweeping the hair away from her neck, he let his fingers linger on her skin. All thoughts of war and danger fled when she made those tiny, breathy moans and rocked into him. He dropped one arm from her waist to find the edge of her panties and dipped his fingers inside.

  Briar sucked in a breath as he pushed through her curls into her warm, wet slit. Pressing his middle finger inside her, he groaned. She was so tight. Her muscles clenched around his finger, as if she could hold him inside her. The heel of his hand rested against her mound, the length of his fingers against her clit. Gently, he thrust inside her, making sure to rub with each forward motion.

  Briar reached behind her, searching for him. For a moment, he considered stopping her. He wanted to be focused on her pleasure, not his own, but then she whispered, “Let me,” and he realized her pleasure was dependent on his.

  Day after day, Briar continued to floor him. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the knowledge that out of everyone in the world, Briar had chosen to love him. She was the reason he’d been granted eternal life, and for the rest of his immortality, he would thank whatever gods there were that he’d existed long enough for her to be born.

  Somehow, Briar managed to unbutton his jeans and slipped her soft hand inside. Her grasp was firm as she stroked him from tip to root.

  Hudson felt his balls tighten, and he stilled, pausing every movement in order to get control of himself. “Give me a second,” he got out before gasping as she pumped him again.

  “You don’t have to control yourself with me, Hudson.” He opened his eyes, not having realized he’d closed them, and met her fiery stare. “Let go. Just feel.”

  She squeezed her muscles around his finger and he began to rock into her hand. Her head dropped back to his shoulder, her arm flexing as she pumped him. Hudson was close; already, he could feel a tingle along his spine. Two seconds of her touch and he was done.

  He withdrew his fingers, circling her clit with wet fingertips, and she trembled. “Hudson. I’m close,” she whispered.

  But he knew without her telling him. He could feel it in the heat pouring off her body and the way her skin had slicked with sweat. Her abs flexed, and she lost her rhythm as she smoothed her hand along him.

  “We’re going to end up in the shower,” she said breathlessly, and Hudson laughed.

  She cried out, her body shuddering. Her end was his own. He erupted, spilling himself over her hand and across the slice of skin between her shirt and panties.

  Chuckling, Hudson lifted her into his arms and spun toward the shower. “You’re right,” he said, kissing her as he walked. “But it’s worth it.”

  Briar

  A short time later, Briar and Hudson found themselves in the living room, explaining what had happened.

  “I wasn’t hurt,” Briar assured them when it appeared that Sylvain’s head was about to explode.

  “Hudson!” Sylvain rounded on his brother and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Fix this!”

  “Fi—what?” Hudson threw his hands into the air. “Fix this how?”

  Sylvain flicked a finger into the air. “One—she sleeps. Vampires don’t sleep. Two—she drinks our blood. Vampires don’t drink other vampire’s blood. Three—I don’t know three yet, but it’ll come to me.”

  “Are you saying I’m failing at being a vampire, Sylvain?” Briar asked. His eyes widened comically, and Valen let out a belly laugh as Sylvain sputtered. Rather than leave him floundering, she waved her hand in the air. “I’m teasing.”

  Sylvain visibly deflated, shoulders slumping in relief. “Not funny.”

  She held two fingers an inch apart. “A little funny.”

  Booming laughter tapered to a chuckle and Valen weighed in, “A lot funny.”

  Briar threw herself onto the sofa, curled her legs under her, and stared out the front windows. Someone had opened them this morning and—

  “Three! She doesn’t burn in daylight!” Sylvain crossed his arms and then collapsed next to her. “I knew I’d think of three.”

  “I don’t.” The sun shining unfiltered through the windows landed fully on her skin. She held her arm up in the light, turning it so she could see the fine hairs on her arm and the golden freckles. The heat warmed her skin, and she scooted closer to the edge of the sofa so she could tip her face into the beam. “It’s wonderful.”

  “I wanted today to be a Harvard day, but I think we should go to Hudson’s lab again,” Marcus said.

  Her eyes snapped open. “For real?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He sighed as if it was the saddest thing he’d ever had to say. “With Theia in your dreams, war on the horizon, and all these unanswered questions, we need to move forward with something.”

  “I wanted to talk about leaving,” Hudson said. “I think the rest of the questions can wait. What does the how matter if there is a vampire gunning for Asher’s throne? We get out, wait for everything to die down, and then come back.”

  An ambulance roared by, punctuating Hudson’s point.

  “When was the last time a vampire died and left an army unclaimed?” Briar asked. “What happens to the people left in Boston?”

  Valen and Sylvain glanced up at the same time as Hudson and Marcus turned in their direction. “Nothing good,” Sylvain muttered.

  “Armies are claimed when vampires are overthrown. And there’s always a vampire waiting in the wings.” Marcus stared at Hudson as he spoke. “Kings don’t die without an heir.”

  “But Asher did,” Briar said.

  “Asher did,” Marcus affirmed.

  “Basically this has never happened before,” she clarified.

  “Basically,” Marcus said, a smile growing on his lips.

  “Then…” Briar slid her feet to the floor and propped her elbows on her knees. “What would happen in a modern day vampire war? Theia can’t be the only vampire eyeing what Asher left behind.”

  “I don’t know,” Marcus answered and then grimaced. “The last war was four hundred years ago.”

  Hudson’s phone suddenly rang, and he pulled it from his pocket. Drawing his eyebrows together, he answered it. “Hello?”

  “This is Briar’s mother.” Her hearing caught worry in her mother’s voice. “Is she with you? She’s not answering her phone.”

  Her phone! She groaned and shook her head. How had she forgotten about her phone again?

  “She is, ma’am, here you go.” Hudson held out the phone, and Briar took it carefully.

  “Briar Hale, you’re coming home,” Mom said as soon as Briar said ‘hello.’

  “Why?” she asked, confused. “Did something happen? Is Dad okay?”

  “Is Dad okay?” Her mother’s voice lifted, and she winced, pulling the phone away from her ear when Mom’s pitch reached dog-hearing frequency. “Briar Hale, it is all over the news. Curfews! Unexplained murders! You get your bottom to Logan Airport and back to West Virginia. I cannot believe I spoke to you yesterday and you didn’t tell me what all was happening!”

  “I didn’t know,” she answered. “I’ve been distracted.” Not wholly the truth, but close enough her mother would be satisfied.

  “You keep your head in your books and you won’t see danger until it’s right under your nose. I talked to Dad and we’re going to get your ticket. Consider it an early Christmas present.”

  Briar let out a breath and steeled herself for what would come next. “Mom, I’m not coming home.”

  “Briar Rebecca Hale, you are.”

  “No, ma’am. I’m sorry. I’m safe, and I’m not coming home right now.” Squeezing her eyes tightly, she waited for the inevitable outburst.

  She wasn’t disappointed. Her mother’s response was so quick and so loud she had to jerk the phone
away from her ear. Keeping it there, she let her mom rant until she ran out of steam.

  “Briar… this wasn’t the deal we made when you went away.”

  True. But they didn’t really have a choice about things changing. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  Mom blasted a sigh across the phone. “Daily text messages and phone calls. I won’t budge on this or I’m sending Jamie and your dad to Boston.”

  Briar shuddered to think about her clueless dad and brother tromping around the city. “I will.”

  They said their goodbyes, and she hung up, feeling like she’d run a race and narrowly avoided disaster.

  “You won’t be able to stay away from them forever,” Hudson said. “It’ll be a situation you’ll have to deal with.”

  “I know,” she replied and handed him his phone. “But not right now. Right now we have a vampire war to avoid.”

  “Vampire war.” Sylvain bounced on the seat next to her. “Never thought I’d be using those words together again.”

  “The crawlers will be looking for a leader,” Valen said. He approached the couch and placed his hand on Briar’s head to play with strands of her hair.

  “It’s weird they just don’t go their own way,” Briar said. “They’re intelligent and venomous. Why not just stay hidden, hunt, and exist away from other vampires?”

  The words hadn’t left Briar’s lips before a crash sounded from upstairs. Shattered glass tinkled to the ground, each individual sliver audible to her ears.

  Sylvain and Valen were a blur of brown and gold. She attempted to follow, but someone caught her around the waist, holding her back.

  “Damn it!” Sylvain yelled and suddenly Marcus wasn’t so strong. Briar dropped like a dead weight and slid through the circle of his arms. She took off up the stairs, stumbling to a stop when she saw Sylvain on the ground. Valen stood, hunched over, in front of him to protect him from the crawler who had shattered the window to get inside.

  The scene was too close to the one she’d experienced when she’d turned. Something came over her. The grimace of pain on Sylvain’s face was too much for her to bear. She swept past Valen and caught the creature by its neck to lift into the air. It snapped at her, arms and legs flailing and scratching, but she didn’t release it.

  “Queen!” It choked. “Mercy!”

  From the corner of her eye, Sylvain continued to writhe in pain. Valen growled and clenched his fists as if holding himself back.

  “Give it to me, Briar,” he said, but she shook her head.

  “What do you want?” she asked the crawler. Its fingers scrabbled at its throat, nails raking over her arms and Valen growled louder.

  “Briar,” he warned. “Give it to me.”

  “Wait,” she said.

  “Hold back, Val,” Marcus said from near the door. “Just a moment.”

  “Why would you come here?” She loosened her hold minutely, letting it lower to the ground enough it could bear its weight.

  “To serve you!” it cried. “Offer us your protection and we will serve you.”

  “We will never protect you,” Hudson replied. He came to stand next to Valen and glared at the crawler.

  “Not you.” The crawler spit at his feet. “You have no power. It is the queen we’ll serve.”

  “I am not a queen,” Briar said. “I’m not even the strongest vampire in this room.”

  The crawler smiled, the corner of its mouth reaching toward the sides of its head to reveal rotted, jagged teeth. “No?” Eyes flicked toward her wrist. “I bit you.”

  Briar followed its gaze to her arm. Two rapidly healing rows of punctures sat on either side of her arm. She hadn’t felt the bite, nor did she feel any different for having received it. “That one writhes in pain, but you, Queen, are immune.”

  Immune to bites like she was to the sunlight. Another way she was different from her vampires.

  “You want to serve me?” Briar asked. “How would you do that?”

  She let the thing go and it oozed to her feet like a supplicant. Stepping back, she peered down at it.

  “I kill those you wish dead.” Voice as oily as the trail it left in its wake, it crawled closer. “Injure those you wish to disarm and incapacitate.”

  “This is your purpose?” Briar asked. “No other? You want no life for yourself?”

  Eyes hardening, it dipped its head. “What life is there for one such as me?” The creature spoke in a way that made her believe it had been alive hundreds of years.

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  “I have lost track of time. I should have been as those vampires are, but I am not.” Lips curled, it examined Sylvain. “Yet I have my own way of inflicting pain.”

  The answer it gave made Briar’s decision easy. With one smooth jerk—and before it knew what was happening—she detached its head from its shoulders. Slowly, the skin began to ash and curl before disintegrating into a pile of dirt and dust.

  “You’re not hurt?” Valen grabbed her arm and examined the bite. Only the faint trace of pink on her skin was evidence of the bite.

  “Not at all,” she replied and wiped her hands on her pants. “All these things are evil. Each and every one.”

  “It’s hard for you to believe,” Hudson stated. “You see them as helpless.”

  Sylvain had stopped groaning, but still lay on the ground. “Not completely helpless,” she answered.

  Glancing around the room, she frowned. “I’ve never been in this room before, whose is it?”

  “Mine.” Sylvain grunted as he forced himself to sit up. Lifting the leg of his jeans, he examined the bite right above his boot. “Fuck.”

  “I think we have to kill these things,” Briar said. She knelt next to Sylvain and then adjusted to sit cross-legged next to him. “Are you okay?” She wanted to touch him but was afraid it would hurt him more.

  “Yes,” he growled and slung his arm around her waist before pulling her into his lap. He buried his face in her hair and squeezed her tightly. “I’m fine.”

  “You want to go hunting,” Valen said. Briar glanced up at him. The sun shone in the windows behind him so he appeared in shadow. She swallowed. What did it say about her that she wanted to eradicate the crawlers who infested Boston? Was she as heartless and cruel as they were?

  “Is there another way to keep everyone safe?” she asked.

  “It’s not our job,” Hudson said. “We’re under no obligation to put ourselves at risk.”

  “No,” Marcus agreed. “But Briar is right. It’s the right thing to do. The only vampires who will arrive here are the ones who want to murder and feed.”

  “What reason would they have to come here if no crawlers and soldiers remain? Perhaps we can frighten enough of them off that they scatter,” she argued.

  Hudson ran a hand down his face, blue eyes flinty. “All right.”

  Sylvain’s arms tightened around her, and he kissed her again. “Time to go hunting.”

  Briar

  Buffy the Vampire Slayer had been one of her Aunt Taylor’s favorite show. When Aunt Tay visited from South Carolina, Briar would hide under her blanket and watch with her. She could remember a bunch of scenes where Buffy had dressed to go vampire slaying. So it was with no small amount of irony that Briar pulled a black shirt over her head, tucked it into black jeans, and threw her hair into a ponytail.

  Too bad she couldn’t use a stake.

  The door opened and closed, and she looked up from tying her sneakers to see Marcus leaning against the door. “Is that your vampire slaying outfit?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

  Glancing down again to hide her smile, she shook her head. “No.”

  “It is.”

  Finished, she stood and jammed her fists against her hips. “Well, it’s nighttime. I don’t want to be seen.”

  “Newsflash,” he said. “Vampires have really good sight.”

  Glaring, she stepped closer. “Uh, newsflash,” she teased. “I don’t care. I’
m trying to look tough.” She held her arms out to her sides and let them fall. “Failed?”

  “Nah,” he said. “You’re the toughest little vampire I’ve ever seen.” Two steps later she was in his arms and Marcus lifted her in the air. She buried her face against his neck. Beneath his skin, she could smell his blood.

  “I never said thank you,” she whispered against his skin.

  He shivered as if her breath tickled. “It was my pleasure.” He must have known what she meant.

  “I didn’t hurt you?” she asked, drawing back. He stared down at her, green eyes honest but intense.

  “No.” He leaned forward and kissed her, plucking gently at her lips. “Not at all. It was a relief. You were alive and I had the ability to help you.” Pulling away, she studied him, but he only smiled. “I love you.”

  “Oh, Marcus.” She tugged him closer to her, wrapping her arms around his neck to hold him as close to her as possible. He didn’t complain about her grip but held her just as close, just as tight.

  “I know you’re strong, and I know you’re smart, but tonight—tonight, Briar, promise you’ll listen to me? Listen to us?”

  “It’s hard when you’re in danger,” she replied, purposefully not agreeing yet. “I can’t hang back when you could be hurt.”

  “I understand.” With gentle hands, Marcus set her away from him. He held onto her arms and bent his knees, staring into her eyes. “But Briar, we have more experience with this sort of thing. If we ask you to run, I need to know you’re going to run.”

  “I won’t leave you,” she answered stubbornly, and he shook his head.

  “We’re hunting crawlers, but I don’t know who else we might meet tonight. Theia’s running around somewhere. There are soldiers who think Boston is their buffet. I can’t do what I need to do if you’re perpetually putting yourself in harm’s way.”

  Briar narrowed her eyes. At no time had she done that—he made it sound as if she had no concept of the danger possible. She knew Marcus worried about her. All of them had one eye on her while the other scanned for their enemies. He hurt her feelings, even though she knew where he was coming from.