Chapter 653: Good Boy
I tapped into some of my demon's power, warming myself internally as Liam and I stepped out into the crisp January night. I didn't really need his arm around my shoulders, but I wasn't complaining. In fact, as we crossed the street back to Harvard Yard, I felt myself warming in other ways that had nothing to do with magic.
Unless hormones are magical.
This might work out after all. Once I managed to get out of my own way and stop being such a freakazoid about the future.
"Did I tell you?" Liam smiled down at me, snow crunching under our boots, a puff of white mist floating from his lips in the still night air. "Mom remarried."
There was a shocker. I hadn't heard from Sonja O'Dane since Liam used magic on her to make her leave us the hell alone. She'd been the reason Liam and I hadn't taken our relationship any further when I first decided he was the one for me. Her constant helicopter presence drove me crazy, to the point I just couldn't stand being with him anymore, knowing she was part of the deal.
But now, thanks to his spell, she'd lost her anxious need to be with him 24/7. And from the sounds of things, she'd made a life for herself. Somewhere else.
Away from me.
Wicked.
"That's nice." Wow, Syd. Way to show even a little bit of interest and genuine enthusiasm. But Liam didn't seem to notice my lack of caring.
"She's really happy," he said, one tartan patterned mitten rising to brush at his nose. "That's all I wanted for her."
That hit me where it hurt. Liam really was the sweetest, most adorable and big-hearted guy I'd ever met. I slid my arm around his waist and squeezed, even managing a smile. After all, I may have hated her guts for a lot of reasons-like almost getting her son killed on several occasions while being a general pain in my ass-but even I wasn't so jaded I couldn't share Lima's happiness for his mom.
And while I couldn't really muster happiness for Sonja, her allegiances did perk my interest. "Who did she marry?" Casual, Syd. Act casual.
Liam took me at my innocent worst.
"His name is Roger," he said. "A normal, amazingly enough. Owns a motorcycle repair shop in Maine."
Which meant she hadn't dipped her toes back into Unseelie business.
Awesome. My mood lightened immediately. Not only was she out of my life, she had a new one of her own and was staying out of mischief.
"You're a good boy," I said, winking.
I meant it as a joke. Just a sidebar ribbing, my specialty. So why did he frown suddenly and pull me to a stop?
"Syd." He gripped my shoulders in his mittened hands, pulling me closer to him. So close the puffiness of his jacket sighed against my navy wool pea coat, the distinct pressure of his physical need pressing to the zipper of my jeans. "I don't want to be a good boy."
Oh. My. Gulp. Swearword.
Blush much, Hayle? It was pretty clear from his pink cheeks-cold winter night or not-it took him a lot of courage to say so. His meaning was pretty obvious, even for someone as dense as me.
And how did I feel about it?
White flakes began to fall, fat, soft ones, as I stood there and tried to think of what to say to him, to decide what I wanted to do about the two of us. They settled in his lashes, on the bobble of his brown earflap hat. So. Freaking. Adorable.
How did I feel about it?
Growl.
He must have sensed the change in my mood, because he smiled shyly before bending over me. I reached up on my tiptoes, his earth magic rumbling through me. Shaylee embraced him whole-heartedly, though my demon turned her back, sulking in the corner. I knew what she wanted. Who. But Liam was here and I refused to let thoughts of Quaid-or my demon's longing for him-ruin this moment.
Liam's hot breath brushed over my lips, the scent of chocolate from his dessert washing over me as I slid both hands over the front of his jacket, fingers sliding between the snaps and under the puffy fabric to touch him through the thin material of his t-shirt.
I always expected his lips to burn me when he kissed me, the expectation built in from other encounters with a darker soul, but the cool depth of earth met my mouth instead. And then all memories of past embraces faded into nothing as I leaned in to Liam, one hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.
So strong, his arms, sweet his tongue. His cold nose pressed to my cheek, tiny snow kisses tingling on my skin as the fall came heavier. I ignored it, closing my eyes, grounding myself in his power as a deep, vibrating hum began at the soles of my feet and began to move upward.
Making me wonder what would happen when it climbed a little further.
Something wet and hard hit the back of my head, knocking me forward. My teeth impacted Liam's with a clunk. We both jerked away, Liam holding his mouth where a small spot of red welled on his lower lip. I spun with a snarl at the sound of giggling, power gathering in a rush around me.
Jean Marc and Kristophe Dumont stood just past one of the large trees bordering the Yard. Kristophe's long, blonde hair was tied artfully back in a ponytail, his tailored long coat sweeping over the ground as he struck one of his model poses. But it was Jean Marc who brushed his hands together, evidence of who threw the offending snowball clear from his actions.
I guess they forgot I'd saved their damned asses, saved their whole coven from ruin when I rescued the Dumont family magic from the Brotherhood.
Gratitude went a long way with them.
"How adorable," Kristophe said. "Oui, mon frère?"
Jean Marc didn't say anything, just smiled at me, brow drawn low over his eyes.
It was only the fact we stood in the open, in the middle of the Yard, that kept their nasty little lives from total extermination. After all, I now had carte blanche from the High Council to act as I saw fit, didn't I? Yes, killing the Dumont brothers as horribly and painfully as possible was likely outside what the Council meant by "protecting all witches", but I considered it a public service.
Maybe the little children needed a reminder of just who they were prodding.
I grinned at Jean Marc. "You throw like a girl."
That hit the spot. Temper, temper, Dumont. His smirk faded immediately, eyes flaring with lavender fire. Now that he was second of his coven, chosen by his father Andre, I expected more of Jean Marc. Considering Andre's unusual position as the new leader of the Dumonts, the first male leader in witch history, I would have thought keeping a low profile would be on the menu. After all, my friend Mia crashed and burned from the loss of the family magic, but if Andre screwed up, I had no doubt the damaged girl would be right there, ready to pounce and demand yet again the Council return her power to her.
I guess either Andre didn't give a crap about what anyone thought or dear Johnny and Kris weren't following orders. More responsibility hadn't done wonders for either of them. They were still asshat bullies and always would be.
Kristophe was the worse of the two, if that was possible. The posing jerk had been pushing around other young witches all semester. I'd stepped in a time or two, but neither he nor his brother had the balls to confront me before now.
So what changed?
"Don't think you're unreachable, Hayle." Jean Marc crossed his arms over his chest, wide shoulders hulking behind his thick neck as he focused his power on me.
Made me laugh out loud.
"I'm right here, Johnny," I said, actually kind of enjoying myself. More so when his anger flared. Hoped he blew a gasket. Or better, used magic against me openly in the Yard.
His ass would be mine.
Liam went and ruined my plan for fun and revenge. "Why don't you two just leave her alone?"
Tell me he didn't step in front of me like I was some princess needing saving?
Facepalm.
While I adored Liam for his chivalry and kindness, he really had to understand the fact I didn't need him to stand up for me.
Kristophe took the bait, stalking toward us, swinging his ponytail like he was on a runway. Seriously?
"Mind your own business, Gatekeeper." Kristophe looked Liam up and down. Mostly up, since my friend had at least a head of height on him, not to mention width. "We don't converse with lesser beings."
What a jerk. But Liam was too smart to buy into Kristophe's-
One long arm pulled back, flew forward and, before I could move, breathe, think, Kristophe was on the ground, blood flowing from his elegant European nose.
I stared up at Liam in total shock while Kristophe wailed in fury.
"How dare you?" The younger Dumont brother tried to scramble to his feet, but his coat was too long and the snow so thick under foot by then all he managed was a wet, flopping motion.
Like a beached sea monster failing in desperation for open water, all elegance lost in his four-limbed thrashing while Jean Marc cursed and slipped as he lunged for his brother, falling on his own sorry ass for his trouble.
A snort escaped me. Laughter broke from my lips. I bit them to try to stop the hilarity from rising, but I just couldn't make it stop.
Howling, grasping my aching ribs, I fell into hysterics as Jean Marc pushed himself to his feet and finally managed to jerk his brother up beside him. Liam tried to step in front of me again, but I shoved him aside, finally pulling myself under control, though the occasional giggle continued to escape.
"Keep your creature away from my brother." Jean Marc acted like Kristophe hadn't been asking for a punch in the face. Hell, I'd have done it long ago if I'd thought it would do any good.
"Whatever," I said, grinning so wide my cold cheeks tingled. "Keep your family away from mine."
Kristophe mopped at the blood on his face, still flowing despite the surge of magic I felt him release to staunch the flow. "At least one of your bodyguards didn't abandon you," he snarled. "Careful, cher, or this one will turn coward and run off like that wolf bitch of yours."
Jean Marc latched onto Kristophe and dragged him away, but the younger Dumont wasn't done.
"If you see her again," Kristophe said, fighting his brother as he slid and slipped over the accumulating snow, "tell her I miss our little lessons."
I let them go. Forced myself to breathe, all hilarity dead at the thought of Charlotte and what Kristophe and his sick mind could have done to her all the years the Dumonts owned her.
Shudder. One more word and I would have gone after him. One more jab and he'd be dead. I think Jean Marc must have known they'd pushed me about as far as they could, because he physically dragged Kristophe out of sight around one of the dorms.
I unwound slowly, heart hammering in rage and indignation for the weregirl, even as my old sadness came rushing back.
Why did she leave me?
I turned to Liam to find him scowling at the retreating brothers while cradling his right hand.
At least his aggressive stance and expression were enough to break my mood. In fact, a small smile tried to rise, even as I mentally rolled my eyes.
Tough guy, huh? Sigh.
Liam didn't protest when I took him by the sleeve and led him to his dorm, nor did he argue, now a little shame-faced, as I pushed him down on his bed and peeled away his mitten. Just my lightest touch to the swelling under his skin made him hiss in pain.
"Broken," I said, grinning at him as my giggles returned. "Idiot."
In his first show of defiance, he tried to pull his hand away, but I refused to let go. "It was time they knew who they were messing with."
I snorted, couldn't help it, as my power slid around his hand and knitted the bone. "My hero."
Liam's jaw clenched. Damn it, I'd pushed him too far, just as much as the Dumonts pushed me. Even my sweet, kind-hearted Sidhe friend was a guy first and foremost.
I let go of his hand and took his face between mine, forcing him to meet my eyes. He did, sullen anger at war with embarrassment written all over his face.
"Thank you," I said. Kissed him.
"You're welcome," he said. Kissed me back.
The rumble of our joining power came back, stronger than ever.
"You really are my hero," I said, the heat of our moment in the Yard returning. And in that instant, sitting there on his bed, looking into hazel eyes glittering with green sparks, I made a decision.
Liam. Okay then.
I slid into his lap and pushed him back, the sigh of his puffy coat between us. "Let me show you how much I appreciate being rescued."
***
