Page 181 of Memories Like Fangs
“You’re gonna love it, runt.” I grinned.
“Oh, no, she’s got that feral spark in her eyes,” Cody groaned.
Maisie’s eyes gleamed a faint shade of purple as she leaned into the screen. “Oh, yes, tell useverything.”
Colliding Stars
BYRD
“If you wanted me wet, birthday girl, you could’ve just asked.”
“Oh, asking is one of the last things I have to do to get you wet, Sweetness.”
“Is that how you explain yourbridalscoopingme into that lake?”
“I love sweeping you off your feet and feeling you in my arms.”
“You are such a flirt, you are almost too feral to function.”
“For you, I’mravenous.”
Quinn’s laughter heated me more than the fire ever could as it rolled low and warm over me. Quinn, Clarkson, and I sat around the campfire after my favorite dinner that Quinn had ever made for us. Garlic, butter, and rosemary still clung to the air, tangling with the sharper scent of cedarwood and pine smoke from the fire. The gigantic ribeye we had shared, grilled asparagus, and hasselback potatoes had been such perfection that I was questioning if Quinn had some kind of culinary magic that she wasn’t telling me about. On her dog bed, Clarkson had long since abandoned her cute s’more dog toy Quinn had bought for the trip for her loyalty to be entirely claimed by the ribeyebone Quinn had tossed her way. She gnawed happily, her stub of a tail wagging steadily behind her.
Beside me, Quinn’s lips curved happily around her blunt, a smile she hadn’t lost since we had first arrived. Her long, wild curls glistened with radiant chocolate, gold, and copper tones in the flickering firelight. Despite still being damp in some places from our earlier aquatic misadventures, their softness and bounce were something to be admired. Her cheeks were warm with a fresh, sun-kissed flush that deepened in front of the campfire’s heat. The sleeves of her blue plaid teddy fleece pullover that I also wore were rolled up to her elbows, revealing forearms corded with ink, muscles, and veins faintly raised from the cold. I had teased her this morning about her white half showing in the weather confusion of her wearing such short biker shorts, mid-calf socks, and hiking sneakers along with the long-sleeved sweater, but now, I was enjoying the view without complaint. Quinn leaned back in her chair, enchanted to mold perfectly to whoever sat in it. Her long, taut, and chiseled legs stretched out in front of her toward the fire. Gods, she looked like she’d been poured into it, every line of her body an artist’s dream to recreate. There was a lazy grace to her, like someone completely and utterly satisfied with the day.
I couldn’t blame her.
Today had been the kind of day that inspired movies that failed to truly capture its magic. We had teleported in from Blackbell to the Veilwood Campgrounds deep in the mountains of southern California late this morning. While Clarkson zoomied around the site, Quinn tried to steady herself and her stomach against a tree nearby. She grumbled about decidedly despising teleporting, but she recovered quickly once she took in the giant Sequoia trees around us.
“Are we in California? I’ve always wanted to camp here!” I hadn’t breathed a word to her about where we were going asidefrom telling her what the weather was going to be like. Her delicate look of shock and awe was the perfect reward for my effort. “Leave it to you to justknow.”
I hadn’t known really, but it had called to me. Shielded from human eyes, it had had rave reviews from shifters and fae for how each site was magicked to give the illusion of seclusion, allowing you to spread your wings or stretch your paws freely without encroaching on anyone. The campsites themselves were expansive, even in the pictures. Each one had a picnic table, a fire ring with persistently glowing embers encircled with black stones, a storage box with tops for the fire pit’s grill, and an enchanted crate full of firewood, ensuring it stayed that way. Every reservation came with spells to use the Teleway portals to transport ourselves and our luggage to the campsite, a great convenience of modern logistical witchcraft that we had happily taken advantage of ahead of our arrival.
Maybe I didknowit was perfect, after all.
When I had offered to help Quinn with unpacking, she had glanced up at me with a bemused raised eyebrow.
“As much as I wouldloveto see you and that hot ass squat in those sexy ass leggings—” Quinn’s eyes had raked over every part of me before she gave me one of her smoldering grins that made my knees weak. “Pretty girls like you do not get to do hard laborever, especially when they just got their nails done.”
“Oh, is that why you were hounding Maisie to make sure she did my nails before our trip?” I had wiggled my glossy, chrome-lilac fingernails in front of her. “A clever ploy, so I can’t help you?”
Quinn had laughed, deep and warm like scattering sun rays. Her eyes had twinkled like they always did when she was up to something and proud of it. “More like you should always look beautiful, and you shouldn’t take my strap away.”
Quinn had “shifted her hat into four-wheel drive” by turning her navy-and-white baseball cap backwards, turning the embroidered “Cannot Think Straight” etched on the front behind her. She had unpacked everything with efficiency, hoisting the heavy as fuck camping gear around like it weighed nothing. She made quick work of everything, like it was second nature. It was absurd how hot it was to watch her use those strong arms to lug equipment around.
Gods, there was something so sexy about competence and someone who truly loved the act of caring for you.
With the campsite all set up, we ventured hand-in-hand through the towering trees and twisting roots on a hike. Clarkson bounded ahead like a tiny, chaotic scout. The taller trees and moss blanketing everything in velvet reminded me of my childhood forest but from an alternate dimension. Soon, we found a mighty waterfall as tall as the Sequoias cascading into a gigantic pool so clear it mirrored the sky. Quinn hadn’t hesitated, stripping in record time to her bathing suit that she wore underneath her clothes before jumping in. I undressed Clarkon so she could follow suit behind her mom. Then, I peeled my clothes off to my two-piece. I was about to approach the pool to dip my toe in when Quinn emerged with a wicked grin, scooped me in her arms, and plunged us into the water with a shriek that was half-feral, half-gleeful.
The water was pureheaven. I would have been more than happy to just sit on the edge of the hot spring like I always did whenever water was involved. Since I had never learned how to swim, I had never been underwater before. I had never trusted anyone enough to let go of my anxiety around drowning to go under. But Quinn just made me feel so safe. She never gave any indication that she was getting tired or bored with carrying me. If anything, she was loving every moment of it, something I noticed even without the bond. It was so beautiful. I was sohappy that my first time underwater was with Quinn, who loved it as much as I did.
We let the water carry us downstream, floating lazily with Clarkson paddling at our side. Soon, we reached a riverbed glittering with crystals of all sorts, like a forgotten treasure trove. Most of them, I knew immediately, but there were a few I couldn’t name right away that were vibrating with eagerness to meet me. So, we sat knee-deep in the slow current of the river, picking through the stones.
“Before I had my powers, Talli used to tell me the purpose of each stone. She taught me my powers before I even knew I had them,” I chuckled softly to myself, feeling the dull ache of nostalgia pulse through me alongside the gemstones in my hand and under my legs. “When we would go into the woods together, I would tell Mom and Pops all about it, and Mom would weave these grand stories about what I said. Her words would make time fly with the best stories. She was so good at telling them.”
Quinn tilted her head, eyes bright and curious. “Tell me some.”
So, I did. I told her all the stories I remembered in the way my mom used to. Then, I told her some I thought she would tell. When I started telling ones of my own design that I thought Mom would’ve liked, I began to worry I was talking too much and hogging her birthday. But Quinn wasenraptured. She never stopped watching me with that smoldering intensity that always unraveled me at the same time that it grounded me before my anxiety could ruin me. She caressed my skin, her hands having never stopped touching me since she took me in her arms to jump in. As she asked follow-up questions, she pulled me closer. Every syllable we traded tightened the thread even more between us in ways I hadn’t thought possible.
