On his face was the corporeal embodiment of complete and absolute trust. Emotion wound tight in my chest.
Having my mate’s permission to enter his thoughts was one thing, but actually knowing how to do it was another thing entirely. Magic was genetic, according to Isa. Super. That didn’t mean that I had the slightest clue where to start.
Flames of embarrassment rushed to my cheeks, my fingers probing his temples as if that’s all there was to entering someone’s freaking mind.
The universe never seemed to get tired of throwing the weird twists and turns into my new life. At this point, I was pretty sure they just got off on seeing me sweat as I jumped through hoop after hoop like some kind of damn show pony for the cosmic assholes running the show. Because here I was, still not entirely sure how to be a normal human. Like, I’d never waited in a line, didn’t know the headache of trying to find parking at the grocery store. Why did the people on TV circle around to find a closer spot instead of settling for something further away? Why couldn’t humans spend an extra thirty seconds walking? It was probably a mystery I’d never crack and didn’t seem to be important to the life I’d been handed. Entering my ancient vampire boyfriend’s mind was somehow more relevant.
A trickle of sweat beaded on my brow as I searched within myself for that energy I’d felt before. Nothing.
I’d been pretty confident when I’d first considered the possibility of entering Sterling’s thoughts. As per usual, my tendency to just jump in head-first and figure stuff out later was proving to be a shitty method. Which had been fine so far since my go-to “winging it” method as of late was to just let my monster handle it.
But her talents weren’t exactly applicable here. Ripping off heads left and right had panned out in Boston. In this world, there were few things violence and bloodlust didn’t fix. As annoying as it was, though, that approach didn’t apply here.
My arms flopped off the bench with an aggravated sigh. “Is there supposed to be some special position or something? Like some kind of yoga pose or whatever? Something that will align my chakras?”
Sterling’s chest knocked against mine with a soft chuckle. “That’s not exactly how it works, love.”
Straightening into a sitting position, he scooped me up in his arms and plopped me into his lap. “But being more comfortable may help relax you.”
Butterflies exploded in my stomach. It was something I tried not to think about, but sometimes I couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that if Sterling had agreed to my mom’s request to run away with her and help raise me, he’d be more of a father figure than my mate.
Sitting sideways in his lap like this reminded me of that fact. Gritting my teeth at the sinful ache, I ground my thighs together in an attempt to satiate it. Was it next-level messed up that that little fuck-filled fun fact turned me on a little? Probably. Definitely, yes.
When I found out I was the daughter of the vampire king, it would have been really neat if someone had mentioned the steaming load of daddy issues that would come with the crown and throne.
The priest’s slender fingers danced over the interior of my wrist, probing for my pulse with the same grace he’d applied to his piano composition minutes ago.
“What has you so flustered, Miss Baxter?”
“Nothing,” I lied. I wiggled my hips into the cradle of his lap. “Is this the part where I tell you what I want for Christmas? Because if you’re handing out presents, I’ll take a copy ofManaging your Psychic Powers for Dummies, please.”
I expected Sterling to be annoyed by the apparent change in the subject. Instead, he smirked at my joke, the wicked glint in his eyes making me flush with a fresh wave of tingling heat. “Naughty girls don’t get presents.”
JesusChrist.
“I’m supposed to be focusing, Ster,” I said on a half-groan, half-moan as he twisted me around in his lap, bringing us face to face.
“You need to relax,” he cooed, stroking the side of my face with a sweeping motion from his knuckles. “Remember, your magic—Helsing and Knight magic—is some of the most powerful magic there is. You’re not your average witch, love. You don’t need spellbooks or mentors to guide you in how to use the power inside you. As a vampire birthed from a powerful bloodline, you are the power. You just might need to get closer to your true nature to harness it.”
“You mean, bring out my monster?”
“Can you feel your magical energy when you’re not channeling your more feral side?”
I thought about it for a second. “Only in weak bursts. Barely at all. When I’m shifted, I feel all this strength coursing through me.”
“That would be your magical energy.”
I chewed on my lip so hard it hurt. Casting my eyes to the marred crucifix tattoo on Sterling’s chest, I traced it with my nails. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
His thumb brushed over the apple of my cheek, catching a solemn tear. “Ruby. We’ve been through this. As the biological daughter of Thomas Knight, you are a vampire with no master. You govern your own impulses. And as the daughter of Sapphire Lockheart, you do so with an iron fist. The chaos inside you is capable of love. I feel it. I see it, even.
“It doesn’t matter how unhinged our queen becomes or how much magic she can conduct through her body.” His hands dropped to my hips and gouged into my flesh, making me gasp in surprise—which probably turned to a molten dribble of a whimper when Sterling dropped his mouth to my neck. He applied the perfect pressure to my skin with the deadly points of his fangs—not enough to puncture…just enough to make me squirm.
His chest rumbled against mine with a dark chuckle, his tongue flicking out to slide over my throat as I swallowed. “Because she craves for nothing more than my mating mark. Well, except for maybe Vincent’s. Fortunately, I’m better at sharing than he is.”
“He was pretty good earlier tonight. He did so well. You would have been proud of him.”
“I am,” Sterling said as he pulled back, his eyes glittering with mirth. “As much as I am of Deathwish for returning you to me in one piece.”