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  “I want—”

  His voice failed him, but Otto knew what he wanted, and his eyes laughed. “What do you want, blossom?”

  “I want to taste you.”

  Otto let go of his dick and crawled up him, dragging his palm along Jessa’s ribs. “I like this,” he murmured, stroking the hair on Jessa’s chest. It wasn’t much, the same light reddish brown as on his crotch, a light shadow across his breastbone. Otto circled Jessa’s nipples with a fingertip, and Jessa’s heart beat harder and harder, and his breathlessness made him dizzy. Afraid he’d pass out before he got what he wanted, he grabbed Otto’s shoulders and twisted sideways. Otto fell onto his back with a chuckle.

  “So that’s how this is going to go.”

  “Yes,” Jessa said. “My turn.”

  Otto stroked his hair, tugging at the strands. “Go at your own speed, Jess.”

  Jess.

  He scooted down the bed until he came to Otto’s dick. The color amazed him, the blood right there at the surface. Whiffs of cardamom and clove and… something earthy and intoxicating floated off Otto’s skin. Jessa’s head spun with every breath he took.

  He bent low and brushed the hot skin with his cheek. Otto’s cock jerked with a life of its own. The fingers in Jessa’s hair stroked with a slow, gentle rhythm, soothing him.

  He lapped Otto’s cock from bottom to top and got a hiss for his reward.

  “Good,” Otto whispered.

  Jessa took another swipe of the salty skin, and Otto trembled. His big muscles tensed, rock hard under Jessa’s weight. A bead of fluid formed on the tip of Otto’s cock. Jessa touched his tongue to it. It was like his, tangy and salty. He lapped again and got another shudder. The fat head without its foreskin was right out in the open. Jessa put it in his mouth, resting it on his tongue and sucking gently.

  “Oh fuck. Yeah, like that.”

  Glowing with pride, Jessa sucked a little harder and swallowed. His mouth filled with musk. He moaned, and Otto pulled a little harder at his hair.

  Fangs in, fangs in.

  He sank down, swallowing and sucking until the tip of Otto’s cock hit the back of his throat, and he pulled up, gagging, spit pouring out of his mouth. “Oh fuck. Sorry.”

  Otto laughed. “Holy fuck. You are pretty damn good at that.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  Jessa crawled up Otto’s chest and rested on him, chin to chin. “I want to be good at it. I want to give you everything,” he said, his voice growing throaty at the end. “I want you inside me.”

  Otto’s eyes darkened to lapis lazuli. “Yeah?”

  He drew his palm down Jessa’s back, itching his sweaty skin with the feathery touch, cupping his bottom, his fingertips sliding along Jessa’s crack. Jessa bent a knee, aching with desire, rolling his hips, pushing against the teasing press of a finger.

  “So hot.”

  “Dying,” Jessa agreed.

  “You want it… right… here? Right in your pretty pink hole?”

  “Yesss.”

  The touch was so light, so tantalizing, Jessa’s channel itched deep in his core, aching for the scratch of a dick. He wriggled his ass. Otto tapped his hole and whispered, “I don’t have any supplies.”

  Jessa’s laugh was a giddy titter.

  “Silly. This is an inn for vampires.”

  Otto frowned when Jessa struggled up and ran into the bathroom. The facility was small but clean and well appointed with a linen closet by the door and a medicine cabinet over the sink. He stopped for a moment, startled by the wild flush that appeared in the mirror. It spread into his neck from his chest, darkening his tattoo. His hair was a reddish brown tangle. He blinked at himself, then grinned, opened the medicine cabinet, and grabbed a handful of lube packets from the box on the bottom shelf.

  Climbing back onto the bed, he dropped them at Otto’s side, and Otto laughed.

  “You have wildly overestimated my powers of recovery.”

  Jessa’s cheeks heated again. “I didn’t want to run out.”

  Otto sat up and leaned in. “I will fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

  “Oh…” Jessa panted and laughed. “Oh… Okay.”

  He lay back down, pressed into the mattress by Otto’s body, draped half on, half off of Jessa’s. The drag of Otto’s palm on his thigh electrified him, but the finger sliding under his balls sent his heart into hyperdrive.

  Otto kissed him, a smile playing on his lips. “Your speed,” he murmured.

  “O-okay.”

  Nudging Jessa’s thighs apart, Otto teased his hole, that place nobody had ever touched. A mix of embarrassment, excitement, and curiosity racked him with shivers.

  Otto nipped his chin, pulled his hand away, and opened one of the packets. “I want to see your face, but it will hurt less if you’re on your hands and knees.”

  “Less?”

  Shit, did his voice just squeak?

  “At first. A little.”

  “Have you?…”

  “Yes. A few times. I think you’ll like it.”

  He nodded, his gaze fixed on Otto’s eyes, pale in the dim light, but crinkled at the corners with a warm smile. All he had to do was hold onto—

  “I want to see you.”

  Otto tipped his head, quiet for a moment, his gaze moving over Jessa’s face. “I’d like that.”

  He lowered himself, kissing Jessa, while his hand snaked between Jessa’s thighs again. His kiss was deep, a slow exploration that stole Jessa’s breath. Closing his eyes, Jessa fell into the sensations, trembling as Otto’s finger circled his hole, tantalizingly light, a feather touch. Jessa rolled his head back, gasping for breath. Mouth pressed to Jessa’s neck, Otto sucked, and his finger breached Jessa’s body. Shocked, Jessa held his breath again, as Otto’s finger slid in deeper, waking a burning warmth inside him. He bit his lip, spots flashing in his eyes, memorizing the strangeness of that one finger sliding in and out, the burn going with it, flaring again as Otto’s finger slipped back in.

  “Breathe.”

  Jessa gasped. “That’s…”

  “Odd?”

  “Hm.” He nodded. “Odd.”

  “Not bad?”

  “No.” Was it… Good?

  The burn deepened, and his hole protested Otto’s second finger with a sharp stab of pain. He panted, and the pain spread, lost in the growing warmth. Jessa groaned and spread his legs wider. He melted into the bliss and the burning and the aching, the itch inside him strangely worse now. He wanted more. He squirmed and rocked. Otto curled his fingers and—

  “Oh fuck.” Pleasure exploded inside Jessa’s ass and spread a warm luscious ache into his balls. His cock jerked and leaked on his belly. “Oh my God.”

  “Good, hm?”

  “Oh, I… More of that.”

  He pulled his knees up, and Otto chuckled and hit that spot in him again. He arched, groans rolling out of his chest as Otto slid his fingers in and out, adding another and another until half his hand was inside Jessa’s body. Jessa wanted to see that but halfway breaking his neck only got him a view of Otto’s wrist. Maybe next time. Mirrors. Would there be a next time? Oh God, he wanted a next time.

  He rocked and wriggled on the fingers inside him until suddenly they were gone. He jerked his head up. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting ready to fuck you,” Otto answered. He grinned now, eyes alight like water in the sun.

  He opened another packet of lube. “No condoms,” he said.

  Jessa shook his head. “You don’t have to worry. I’m half vampire. We’re safe.”

  “I don’t have anything, but I don’t want to take a chance.”

  “You won’t be. That’s why I can drink from humans.”

  Otto nodded, solemn now. “This is a first for me.”

  Jessa smiled. “Me too.”

  He opened his arms, and Otto lowered into them, bracing his weight on an elbow, but pressing into him, enveloping him in warmth. Jessa hugged him, opening his
mouth to him, sucking on the tongue that invaded him. He moaned into Otto’s mouth and rocked his dick against Otto’s hairy belly. Oh, good… so good. Sparks of friction lit up like fireworks behind his eyelids. His balls ached, urging him to thrust. His pleasure rolled out of him in a low humming sound.

  He chased Otto’s lips, but Otto drew away, his eyes, solemn now, locked on Jessa’s. His heart galloped at the hard nudge of Otto’s dick pushing into his hole. He grabbed Otto’s biceps, squeezing hard, panting with a panic that ebbed with the stretch of his ass, widening, letting Otto into him, changing him, wrecking him, reforming him, ruining him. Otto froze, face slack. Shock glazed his eyes. He groaned, as though chains bound him, and not the silken ribbon wrapping around Jessa’s heart. But his heart sang—You are mine. My fated.

  With a moan, he pulled Otto closer, and Otto rocked all the way in and whispered, “Holy fuck.”

  His body vibrated in Jessa’s arms. Skin sticky, slippery, breath hot against Jessa’s cheek. His lips skimmed Jessa’s face, dick dragging out, sliding in, every delicious inch searing Jessa’s insides with pleasure. A wicked ache. An insatiable itch.

  “Oh God.”

  “Fuck, you feel good,” Otto moaned.

  His thrusts sped up, arms hooking under Jessa’s legs and curling him into a ball.

  A frenzied glow filled Otto’s eyes. Jessa lurched underneath him, pummeled, dazed, his heart throbbing in time to the waves of pain and pleasure in his belly. His cock ached, his tip smearing precum on his skin. Otto dropped to his elbows and cupped Jessa’s head, a kind of dazed alarm in his eyes. “Okay?… Okay?” he murmured.

  “Want…”

  “Yes.”

  “Want… you,” Jessa whispered, panting each word.

  Want you forever. Fated. As doomed as Qudim and Dawn. He’d never love Wen. Never forget this. But his thoughts burst apart. Otto’s thrusts turned into raggedy jolts that jammed Jessa’s cock through his grip. He jerked himself, his fingers sliding on damp skin. His lungs labored, and his eyes blurred.

  Otto grunted and slammed him into the mattress, and Jessa spurted in wracking shudders.

  His vision went white.

  He rose into the whiteness, light as air, floating on clouds.

  Kisses brought him back, warm and soft on his cheek. The bed sank as Otto fell beside him and wrapped him in his arms. Jessa was grateful. He didn’t want to look into Otto’s eyes and not see a reflection of the love surfacing in his. It rose from his heart with every beat.

  “Sweet vamp,” Otto murmured.

  Jessa closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  32

  Mal the Teacher

  Three days had passed since Otto dropped Jessa off at the castle. Three days of trying not to think of him and failing. Three days of trying to rationalize the ridiculous pitter-patter in his heart. He’d caught a virus. He was dehydrated. Or sober. Maybe a drink would cure him. But it for sure as fuck wasn’t love. Otto refused to fall in love with a vampire. A drainer. They were murderers. Maisie’s murderer.

  He got into his car and started it with a roar.

  But the memory of fingers closing around his heart the minute he’d sunk into Jessa’s body still echoed inside him like a caress in his chest. He’d drowned in Jessa’s frantic eyes. Was that old myth true? Were blood mates real?

  God damned if he’d let Jessa bite him.

  He backed out of his driveway and headed down his street. Lights glowed in the quiet houses, and there was no one on the streets.

  Why hadn’t Jessa connected with Isaac this way? Why fucking Otto? But no. It wasn’t real. Glorious sex, yeah, but that was all it was. Skin on skin. Jessa’s newness. The impossibly tight grip on Otto’s dick and the searing heat. Jesus.

  Otto’s hands grew sweaty on his steering wheel.

  Fuck, he wanted a drink. He licked salt off his lip. But getting a drink was a stupid idea. This case was going nowhere. It had been two months since Acalliona’s murder. How could you fall for him in only two months?

  It’s fated.

  Like hell. That was a myth. Even vampires scoffed at the idea.

  He ground his teeth together as he made his way to the community college on the other side of Comity, got out, and climbed the stairs to the coffee shop where Mal was supposed to meet him. He bought a coffee and took a chair at a table in the corner of the room. He hadn’t gone to college. Had Jessa? Who cared? The guy was a prince who lived in a castle and grew flowers for fun. He didn’t remember the world he’d come from. This was his place. And he lacked for nothing.

  Except for love.

  He was never getting that from Wen.

  Or you.

  Otto took a swallow of his coffee, gaze on the door. He swallowed as it opened and Mal strode in. He blinked in surprise. Her hair was in a straight ponytail, unadorned. No micro mini. No spiked heels. No glitter or glam or blood red paint. She wore jeans, not too tight, a white button-down shirt, and sandals.

  Going to the counter first, she got a cup of coffee, carried it over, and sat down. She wasn’t wearing makeup either.

  “What?” she asked.

  Her voice was a bark though, all Mal.

  Otto cleared his throat. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

  She smiled sweetly. “I have many talents.”

  He grunted a laugh and took another swallow of his coffee. It burned going down, and he winced. “I bet you do.”

  She cocked her head. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

  “How’s Jessa?”

  “Moping.”

  “Why?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You rejected him, didn’t you?”

  “Hardly.”

  A stillness came over her face for a moment, and every hair on his body stood at attention. But then she bit her bottom lip, sighed, and said, “I see.”

  “That’s not why I’m here.”

  “You did ask about him.”

  “I care about him. We’re friends.”

  “Jessa is not your friend. You don’t strike me as somebody who would lead him on.”

  “I didn’t.”

  She set her coffee to the side and rested her forearms on the table. “I know we hover. I’m not angry. Grateful, really. Wen is Jessa’s choice. Yes, Rune presented him. Arranged marriages are common. It made sense, but it was always Jessa’s choice. I just think everybody should feel passion at least once in their life, so I’m grateful to you for that. Hurt him, though, in any fucking way, and I will peel your skin from your body piece by piece over a thousand fucking days.”

  She straightened and took a sip of her coffee.

  “You teach with that mouth?”

  Her laugh choked her. She coughed and swallowed, waving her fingers at her lips. “I guess I deserve that.”

  “I won’t be in the picture for long, but I won’t hurt him.”

  He doubted she was convinced. She gave a small shrug and said, “But that’s not why you’re here. I have fifteen minutes before class begins by the way.”

  “Tell me about the Letters of the Revelatory Passion.”

  She drew back, frowning slightly. “What’s to tell? They’re just symbols like cuneiform in human culture. An early writing system.”

  “Only seven?”

  “Well, at one point, there was a working language. Some of the history books mention nine letters because at one time there were nine families. Now, of course, there are seven, so one letter for each family.”

  “They show up in your art. On Jessa’s necklace.”

  “True. Vampires are somewhat obsessed with their fall from grace. In human culture you were cast out of a garden. The Ellowyn believe we are descended from the fallen angels, thrown into the bowels of hell. In our case, literally the bowels of the earth.”

  She paused and glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “And the letters symbolize that?”

  “In a way. Our redemption, like the second coming for Christians, was promised to us. Over t
housands of years of retelling, this redemption became a reward for our faith and patience. The letters symbolize qualities God desires from us. The reward,” she shrugged. “Who knows about that? I haven’t seen it.”

  “Any ideas what it might be?”

  “Oh, there’s the usual stockpile of gold theories. Or a treasure gathered from the riverbeds of Eden.” She smiled. “Fancy cars. Trust funds.”

  “Any chance somebody would actually believe in it?”

  “Probably. Have you heard of the Adini Treasure?”

  He nodded. “Once.”

  “Somebody puts stock in it. Frankly, I think it’s right up there with the Arc of the Covenant.”

  “Some people think that was found.”

  “Some people will believe anything.” She pushed her chair back. “Now I have to go. Will you call for Jessa?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have any leads right now.”

  Mal stared at him with a strange mix of fondness and derision. “You’re an idiot.”

  Gaping like the idiot she’d just called him, he sat there with his cold coffee and watched the place empty for the start of classes.

  Was he?

  Did he have the guts to take a chance?

  After all these years, he wasn’t entirely sure why he’d never tried to love somebody.

  But his fluttering heart warned him away. Something would go wrong, and it wouldn’t be him who paid.

  33

  Attacked

  The garden on the corner of Comity House was walled off from the rest of the property by a hedge and arranged in wedges with a fountain at its center. Shrub roses, lavender, and hydrangeas bloomed inside the boxwoods that formed the wedges. Between the bricks that lined the walkways, wild lilac grew, and stray pots held geraniums and vinca.

  Jessa sat on a stone bench that gave him a view of the fountain.

  His ass didn’t hurt anymore. He wriggled a little, trying to wake the ache back up, but it had disappeared as completely as Otto had. Waking up in the lodge without Otto beside him had flooded him with shame. He’d gotten into the shower, and when he’d reemerged, Otto was there with coffee and a smile, but the feeling of abandonment still clung to him. It had colored his mood and made him nervous and chattery the whole way home.