Page 32 of The Rusalka and Mr. Right

“You’re getting old,” I tease, and Jakob huffs at me, turning a sharp, fangy smile in my direction.

“If only, my dear.”

“Let’s split up. I’ll take the campus. I blend in a little better,” I say, knowing my appearance belies my advanced age. We’re not supposed to split up in case something nasty arrives that’s biggerthan one person can handle, but Jakob nods and pulls out his phone.

“I will send out a text to the other members of the Night Watch and see if anyone else can join us.”

“I still think your spine is overreacting, but okay.” I give him a friendly nudge with my shoulder and hurry deeper into the heart of the campus, while Jakob turns to follow the groups leaving it and heading toward town.

As the darkness deepens and the moon rises higher, the little swaying, laughing groups sort themselves into dorms and the string of old brick buildings east of the campus. At first, they seem out of place, looking like small apartment houses until you notice the flags with fraternity letters on them.

I slide through these houses and parties with ease, hormones throbbing subtly as I watch the college students celebrating the triumph over their first full week of classes. Hands press plastic cups into mine, hands pat my hips in passing, and more than one beer-bathed frat boy tries his luck.

Nothing evil here—well, nothing besides me. Nothing inhuman, anyway.I scowl at some particularly grope-y boys and step on their feet in passing.

“Come upstairs, baby,” one smooth seducer pours a shot into my cup. He’s sporting broad shoulders, a baritone bedroom voice, and his black curls are shaved into intricate patterns. He winks at me, all perfect teeth and predatory eyes.

My insides throb harder at the resemblance to Kev and the thoughts it conjures up, but I press my cup back into his outstretched hand. “No thanks. Not hungry.” I smile, and I see something panicky flash in his eyes.

Dear me. Sometimes alcohol dulls the brain enough that it sees the truth. I wonder if he caught sight of my shark-like grin?

Part of me hopes so.

The rest of me hauls my slightly more padded ass through the door as my phone vibrates against my hip.

Minegold: Robbie and Leo will join us. Their set is just finishing at Jax Alley. I told Leo to meet you by the campus footbridge and Robbie will meet me by the cemetery.

Marina: All right. I’ll walk the riverbank. No nasties in the frat houses. Well, only the human ones.

Leo is a werewolf, silent and taciturn, stocky and shorter than his Adonis of a vampire bestie and bandmate. My mind falls into old patterns. Wouldn’t I love a two-course meal of those talents?

I shiver, and a sick feeling hits my middle.

Stop. Leo’s wife is probably the most powerful witch of the century, and she’s currently pregnant with twins. Robbie’s wife is pregnant, too, and what’s more, she’s part-succubus. She needs everything her husband can give. Behave.

But the scolding is all fake. And the idle thoughts about sexual desires feel... forced. I try to picture Robbie with his sexy London accent and his skin as white as mine all carved into perfect muscles—and nothing. Leo, with his intense, brooding eyes and his strong, square jaw... nothing.

I think of the way Kev smiles at me when I catch him drinking orange juice straight out of the bottle and my insides rebel completely. I want to text him and beg him to meet me by the footbridge, pull him into the woods, and bend over in front of the sturdiest tree I can find.

Marina: I miss you. I might come over late. Very late.

As soon as I click send, I get a text back.

Kev: Good. Miss you.

Kev: I’m on a video call with my parents. They’re in California with my brother at a big swim invitational. They’re tossing around scary words like “Olympics.”

Marina: That’s amazing!

Marina: When will

I stop texting and turn, senses flaring like the fins of a startled fish.

Moans. Heavy, pained moans mixed with excited, sexual ones. My stomach twists and roils with memories. I look around and realize I’ve wandered down to the water’s edge and kept walking toward the darker, wider part of the river, called to it by ancient ties, bound to water like humans are bound to air.

But my feet suddenly still and my body is frozen in shock as the glistening figures at the bottom of the bank.

Todd.

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