Unknown - Scorched

“Your Macmillan is a protector. The world needs both. And besides, you like him.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m not blind.”

“Children shouldn’t think of their mothers that way.”

“I’m not stupid, either. And besides, I’m old enough now to find my own way. You’ll need a new project.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m a young incubus about town.”

He’d been reading her magazines. “So your mother is that easy to shrug off?”

He laughed. “Never. You’ll always be my mother, but I can’t always be a boy.”

Sylvius folded his wings tight against his back, making them all but invisible. He nonetheless looked no more human. Though strong and lean as any handsome youth, there was no mistaking him for one of the farm lads back home. It would be like comparing a fledgling eagle to a flock of geese.

I raised this beautiful, wise young creature. Fancy that. “I don’t know what I would have done if Mac hadn’t brought you back.” She felt the tingle of tears.

“You would have come for me.” He kissed her forehead. “You’re as much a warrior as your man.”

She looked away. “I’m not Turned.”

“You could be.”

“Lore says if I leave the Castle, I will turn into some savage beast.”

Sylvius laughed. “I can’t see that.”

She pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Lore’s people have the gift of prophecy.”

“And sometimes Lore lives like he is holding a broken cup in his two hands, afraid to let go in case the pieces fall.”

“What does that mean?”

“Maybe the pieces need to fall, so that our hands can be free.”

Constance leaned against him. “It’s not that simple, and you just like to argue.”

He squeezed her. “Leap toward happiness.”

Easy for a love demon to say. Constance laughed softly, afraid of the temptations brewing in her soul. Whether he knew it or not, Sylvius was telling her what she wanted to hear.

“I gave you this to open your heart.” He touched the pendant again. “It worked. Don’t undo the good it’s brought you. You can live in fear or be the person you dream yourself to be.”

“The good it brought me? Sylvius, is this really a love charm?” She clutched the pendant. “I raised you better than that!”

“It can’t make you fall in love. It just shows you possibilities. Apparently, you liked the possibility you saw.”

Constance was speechless; then she swallowed hard. “That’s ... that’s ...”

Sylvius looked smug. “Your Mac is here to see you.”

“Here? Now?” she rose, rounding the edge of the stone bench, more than ready to go.

Sylvius got to his feet, jumped to the top of the bench, then off again, spreading his wings to float down beside her. “He made Lore come and put wards of protection all over the Summer Room door. He did the rooms next door, too, so I can sleep there.”

Sylvius looked a little defiant, but Constance said nothing. It was only right he had a private space of his own, even if she was still fretting whenever he was out of sight. It was going to take her a while to get over their recent scare. To come up with a better plan than hiding behind locked doors, whatever wards the hellhounds put on them.

She wished she could leave the Castle. Maybe Sylvius should.

He watched her expression carefully. “Nothing stays the same forever, little mother. All things change. It’s up to us to make them better.”

Constance found a smile and forced it to her lips. He touched her cheek. His hand was warm, the gesture full of the soft, gentle magic of the incubus. Soft as the sunlight she’d almost forgotten. Soothing. Calming.

Her smile started to bloom of its own accord. Mac was waiting for her. Everything was going to be wonderful.

She wished it with all her heart.

Sylvius took Viktor to his newly warded chambers, leaving Constance and Mac alone in the Summer Room.

She looked up, falling into the rich brown of Mac’s gaze. He looked tired, but happy to see her. They kissed, and she felt the inevitable need to draw him closer, search the kiss for more secrets and pleasures. To give him comfort.

“Did you talk to Atreus?” she asked when they broke apart. There was a lingering grimness about him. She wanted to know why.

Mac brushed the hair back from her forehead. “I did. Sort of. It’s a long story. Let’s talk about that later. I need something else right now. Just for a few minutes.”

“What would that be?”

“You. I need you to make me forget the day.”

He kissed her again, letting his hands slide up her ribs, caressing her waist, her breasts, finally cupping her face with exquisite tenderness.

“Do women in the outside world kiss the same way?” Constance asked when they finally allowed air to come between them. Part of her was afraid to ask. The rest of her couldn’t resist.

“Not nearly so well,” he said with a quick grin. “But d’you know what men and women do, when they want to get to know each other better?”

“What might that be?” Constance twined her arms around his neck, allowing him to sit on the massive, heavy sofa and draw her onto his knee. His strong, broad chest made the best cushion in the world.

“They go out someplace nice and spend time with each other.”

“On a date?” She’d seen the word in the magazines. “Yeah. A date.”

“In my time we called it courting.”

“Remember I said you should come see my world sometime?”

Constance felt her stomach drop like a bucket down a well. She remembered. He’d said it in the haze after love-making. She didn’t think he’d remember. “I remember.”

Mac gave another grin. “Miss Moore, would you go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

She opened her mouth to say no, but he looked too hopeful. He wasn’t like Lore, telling her she’d turn to a rav ening, murderous beast the moment she set foot outside the Castle door. Which is the truth?

She looked away in confusion, her gaze dropping to the shining, lovely magazines he had brought. New ones, still smelling of fresh ink. They were better than jewels. They were filled with fuel for a thousand dreams. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I’ve already thought of that,” he said. “I’ll bring you something nice.”

“You will?” The words came out like a prayer and a confession both. She sounded like a drowning waif, clutching at the reeds of a riverbank. “But how will I get out of the Castle?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ve got that figured out, too.” He touched his finger to the end of her nose. “Nothing’s ever perfect, but I’ll make our night as close to absolutely wonderful as I can.”

Lore had to be wrong. Mac wasn’t worried about what she’d do. Still...

“What if I bite someone?” She had to say it. She still had a conscience.

Mac cocked an eyebrow. “Do you want to?”

“No!” she said. “But what if I decide I do?”

He shifted his hands, holding her as gently as he would a bird. “Why would you?”

“What if I can’t help myself? It could happen. I’m a monster, you know.”

He gave a sly smile. “Tell me if you feel the urge. Then we’ll decide what to do. There are people who are happy to let you bite them.”

Constance was stunned. “Bloody hell! Why would they want that?”

Mac looked confused, then considering. “How often were you bitten?”

“Just the once.”

He looked even more perplexed. “Your, um, boyfriend tried to Turn you on, like, the first time?”

“Yes.”

She flushed, remembering that vampire venom was supposed to possess erotic effects. She’d felt none of that. Though she did remember he slobbered. “He wasn’t much for getting a girl in the mood.”