Page 25 of The Warlock's Kiss

Merrick dropped a hand to his groin and squeezed his hard, aching cock, but the gesture provided no relief.

Why, after all this time? Why am I suddenly craving ahuman?

Chapter Five

A peal of thunder rattled the window. Merrick’s frown deepened, but he did not move away from the glass. He’d slowly woven magic into every piece of this manor over the years since he’d purchased it, infusing it with arcane energies to ensure it remained in the best possible condition; before the Sundering, repairs had meant calling human laborers, and he preferred to avoid that whenever possible. Those enchantments on his home had been bolstered by the invisible barrier he’d shaped around it to protect it from a world that seemed hellbent on destruction—lightning and fallen branches would never touch the manor, even if the rain could.

That protection hadn’t meant anything when a little human woman had picked up a rock and smashed in his front window.

But he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for that.

Though morning had come, there was no sunlight—everything was drab gray, and the heavy rains had already made the ground mucky. The dirt lane that led from the manor to the main road would’ve been impossible to traverse by this point.

He watched the fat raindrops fall, watched them turn the surfaces of countless puddles into rippling bastions of chaos, and told himself this was the time to send the humans on their way. What did the weather matter to him? It was their problem, not Merrick’s.

At least one of them was awake already. Merrick knew it was the boy—he sensed that Adalynn was down the hall, in the bedroom he’d let the humans use, though he wasn’t sure how or why he was aware of her location.

Lightning streaked across the sky—at least seven strikes all in rapid succession, blasting over the trees to create a wall of blue-white electricity. It was there and gone in a flash, though its web-like afterimage lingered in his vision for several seconds.

The fleeting nature of those lightning strikes—which came and went in the blink of an eye but could have such profound impact on whatever they touched—reminded him of Adalynn.

Adalynn, who’d already so deeply affected him.

Adalynn, who’d kept Merrick awake all night, who’d sparked consuming arousal and unfulfilled lust in him.

Adalynn, who would be gone so soon whether he sent her away or not.

That ominous thought was punctuated by deep, booming thunder—thunder that seemed intent on shaking his manor apart despite its magical protections.

Those protections suddenly seemed inadequate.

He knew, in his heart, that if he sent Adalynn and Danny away, he’d spend the entire day standing at this window, watching the rain and thinking of her.Feelingher absence. Feeling…guilty. Even now, he wanted to go to her. He could imagine entering the bedroom to find her curled up on the bed asleep, could imagine himself climbing in to lie beside her, could imagine himself wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close.

After more than a thousand years, is it really going to be this little human to drive me mad?

And while I am here brooding, young Daniel has already gone downstairs and raided my pantry.

The thought of his precious supply of peanut butter being decimated was just the distraction Merrick needed in that moment. He stepped back from the window, tugged the curtains closed, and exited his study.

Despite a powerful urge to glance down the hall toward Adalynn’s bedroom, he kept his attention directed forward—lest he find his body turning toward her—and strode to the staircase, descending swiftly.

When he reached the kitchen, he stopped in the doorway.

Danny was indeed at the table, an open sleeve of crackers set before him—with the jar of peanut butter beside them. Merrick’s eyebrows fell, and his jaw muscles tightened, but he stopped himself from charging at the adolescent.

Lips pressed together as though in concentration—or perhaps anticipation—Danny opened the jar before raising a cracker in one hand and a butter knife in the other. He delicately dipped the knife into the jar. When he lifted it clear, a pea-sized bit of peanut butter was on its tip. The boy stared with wide eyes as he spread the peanut butter on the cracker; it didn’t go far.

Danny licked his lips, inhaled deeply, and exhaled. He moved the cracker to his mouth and took a little bite from the edge. His body sagged as he tilted his head back and moaned in appreciation. “So, so good,” he muttered.

He finished the cracker in several small bites, pausing to relish each one. After the cracker was gone, Danny shifted his gaze between the red lid and the open jar, worrying his lower lip as though he were contemplating having more. That he was hesitating at all was impressive to Merrick, but what the boy did next was surprising.

Danny nodded to himself, took another cracker out of the sleeve, and scooped out a slightly larger glob of peanut butter. He smeared it over the cracker, scraping everything off the knife along the cracker’s edge. Then, holding the cracker between forefinger and thumb, he carefully set it down on the table in front of the empty seat beside him. The seat his sister had occupied the night before.

Once the cracker was down, Danny picked up the lid and screwed it back onto the jar.

Something shifted inside Merrick, something deep, old, and powerful. Something that had shaped his life since he was even younger than this human.

Merrick hadn’t been able to bring himself to hate this boy and his sister, even when they’d broken into his home, but he still should’ve been as indifferent toward them as he had been toward most every other human he’d ever encountered. Their lives should’ve been of no consequence to him. Whether they lived or died should’ve been unimportant so long as they were out of his home. Danny, in particular, represented much of what made humans dangerous—their easily roused passion, their volatility, their disrespectfulness.

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