Page 44 of Kisses at the Crossroads

“You’re special to me, darling.” I grab a washcloth from under the sink. “I think you’ve stopped bleeding, but I want to clean you up.”

He nods as he moves his hand and sure enough, there’s not even a scar. I strip down and join him in the shower. My tail keeps him upright as I fuss with the temperature. I don’t want to burn him.

Lark’s fingers dance along the length of my tail. Perhaps to keep himself occupied. He shivers in my hold. “I don’t understand. Why would Drake trade his life as a witch for being a vampire? If he was seeking power, he just gave it all away.”

“I don’t know,” I say as I wet Lark’s hair, which is thankfully gaining color again. He hums when I lather it up and massage his scalp. “He doesn’t exactly make sense.”

“He doesn’t have many friends that I know of. Why would someone want to live forever if they don’t have people to enjoy it with?” Lark turns to face me.

“Well,” Van says as he materializes in my bathroom. “Drake’s dead, and I have to go into hiding.”

“What did you do?” I ask, pausing in washing Lark.

“I may have taken him to the coven and when they refused to do anything because he was no longer a witch, I may have ripped his head off and thrown it at the judge.”

“Van.” I move the shower curtain to look my best friend in the eye.

“I know. But fuck the rules. Drake broke them all, and he kept getting passes. I was tired of it.” Van shrugs. “Plus, I’ve always wanted to do that outside of a deal.”

“Thank you,” Lark says as he clings to me. He peeks around the curtain. “I wouldn’t have wished death for Drake, but he wasn’t going to stop.”

“He ranted and raved until I severed his head.”

It’s now I notice Van’s drenched in blood. His jeans stained. Red splashed across his t-shirt and face.

“Wicky may be the romantic of our group, but I’ll do anything to keep my friends safe. Violence is all I’m good at.”

“Not all,” Lark says.

Van tips his head. “I’ll leave the two of you alone now. You probably want peace.” And he’s gone.

“I really am free.” Lark’s big blue-gray eyes widen as he looks up at me.

I hug him as close as possible when sobs rip from his throat. He clings to me, nails digging in, claiming me.

“Kiss me.” His eyes shutter closed. How can I deny him?

My mouth brushes his in the gentlest touch, but we both need more and I cup his face and deepen the kiss. He moans beneath me. The end of my tail caresses his back. I want to touch every inch of Lark, but the tub is slippery.

“Let’s finish washing up, then we can enjoy ourselves if you want.”

“I want,” Lark says, breathless.

We’re washed in quick order and I’m patting him dry when Frankie makes her happy bark. Obviously, we have another visitor. I teleport Lark and I into my bedroom where his head is on a swivel as he looks around.

My bed is huge, maybe bigger than the human realm’s king sized. I have a giant closet. A comfy recliner in the corner. A window seat. It’s comfort everywhere. I grab one of the Fae shirts I’ve stocked in my closet and help him in it. His wings flutter in their freedom.

I plant more kisses, and he grabs for me, but I still his hands.

“Darling, I think Wren is out there.”

His eyes go wide and he looks to the door.

“Go. We have all the time in the world.” I kiss the side of his face and he runs to meet his brother.

They’re hugging when I join them. I lean against the doorjamb, watching as they chatter in Fae. They both start yawning and I notice the dark circles under both their eyes.

“Hit the shower, Wren, then come join us in bed.”

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