The Vampire and the Scorpion (Blood and Venom Saga #1)

13. Thirteen

Thirteen

“ A s far as I am aware, no one else comes here,” Madigan said as he led me deeper into the wood. It was unpleasant passing through Austin’s execution site, but as we drew farther away, it was like leaving the rest of the world behind. “This woodland is only accessible through the showmen’s yard, and the coven avoids it... for obvious reasons.”

I clasped his hand, near blind in the darkness, but Madigan could either see perfectly, or had memorised the route, sliding through the trees with ease. His hand was warmer than I’d been expecting, his palm rough and grip strong.

“This is it.” He guided me through the final rows of trees, greeted by the sparkling moonlight reflecting off the surface of a nearby lake. “Sit here. I’ll get some firewood.”

He indicated to a fallen tree beside the remains of a firepit before heading into the darkness of the woodland.

I seated myself, examining the deep ridges of the tree bark between my fingers before slotting my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie, my breath misting in front of me, as though the absence of Madigan had left me frozen. I shivered.

“Cold?” Madigan asked, returning with his arms full of logs and branches.

“Yeah. Thanks to the combined efforts of Randall and Ivan, I no longer have a coat.”

“Here.” Madigan removed his tailcoat and draped it around my shoulders, still containing his warmth and scent.

“Thanks,” I said shortly—I wanted him to know I was still annoyed with him, but his gentlemanly behaviour was making it difficult.

I looked around. Empty acorn husks littered the floor, among the distinctly shaped oak leaves. In the distance, I heard an owl hooting and the trickle of the stream feeding the glimmering body of water. I understood why Madigan had kept such a tranquil spot a secret. Even vampires needed sanctuary from their day-to-day (or night-to-night) troubles. His hands were a blur as he rubbed two sticks together, and soon had a small, crackling fire danced in the pit.

As he worked, I couldn’t help but admire him from behind. Each time he leant forward, his waistcoat rode up, teasing his braces beneath. My lips twisted into a devilish smirk, wondering if this made me a pervert. He stood up and stretched. His legs appeared disproportionally long, or perhaps it was just the way he shifted his weight from one to the other, never standing squarely on both. I scanned up his legs to his backside. He has a gorgeous ass! Shame it’s always covered by his coattails...

The memory of him taking his shirt off plagued my mind. I’d been so shocked by the scars that covered his side that I’d almost forgotten the modest, yet toned muscles down his chest, leading to a tuft of dark hair beneath his belly button...

“Are you alright, Miss Monroe?” he asked as he took a seat beside me, snapping me out of my thoughts. He was looking at me with an almost knowing expression, eyebrow raised, lips twitching.

Can vampires read minds? God, that would be embarrassing. I’m not sure what’s come over me... Loneliness, I suppose...

“Yes, thank you,” I answered, perhaps a little too quickly. “This place is stunning. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“It’s nothing much. But it’s mine.”

“How often do you come here?”

“Perhaps twice a week, just for a few hours.” He tugged on the cuff of his shirt sleeve. “Though perhaps more often recently. Sometimes I just need to escape the tension of the coven.”

“I don’t blame you.” I shuddered, not from the cold, but from the memories forever burned into my mind, created by Ivan. “Though a few hours aren’t long enough, if you ask me. I’d prefer an eternity.”

“Which is why we’re here: to discuss a proposition that I don’t want overheard.” He turned to face me, tugging on his cuff once more and let out a deep, steadying breath. “You are not the only one who wishes to escape the coven. I, too, wish to leave, and have concluded that there are two ways in which we might succeed. The first, is to obtain our blood samples from Ivan. This would mean breaking into his motorhome and stealing them. Without our samples, finding us would be far more challenging for Dominic. The second way we might escape, would be to kill Dominic, a method I have tried in the past... and failed.”

“You tried to kill Dominic?” I asked, almost disbelieving.

He nodded. “Fortunately, Ivan thought we’d simply got into a fight, and that my beating was punishment enough. But without Dominic and his near-Brain Eater’s sense of smell, Ivan would have to rely on Jacob or Sebastian. Yes, Blood Drinkers have powerful olfaction, but we don’t fixate on blood like a Brain Eater does. But I digress. The point is, I believe if we can obtain our blood samples from Ivan, we have a greater chance of escape without being caught. But it’s not something I can do alone. Until now, I’ve not had anyone I can trust enough to assist me.”

“You trust me?”

“I trust you want to escape as much as I do. And this might be the only way. Can I count on you?”

My pulse raced at his words. “Yes. If you can get me out of here, I’ll do anything you ask.”

Though he maintained his usual serious demeanour, his eyes sparkled, the fire dancing within them, reflecting his excitement. “Then listen carefully. At the end of the month, there is a full moon. The werewolves will be in lockdown, and the witches within their Sacred Ground to pray to their Moon Goddess. I’ll need you to provide a distraction. You’ll tell Ivan that the Hallows attacked you, and are plotting to do battle with Ivan’s coven. With only the shifters to call upon for help—a faction Ivan has little respect for—he will undoubtedly call upon the vampires to hunt them down, as he has done in the past. During this time, I’ll break into his motorhome and steal the samples.”

“Won’t he ask you to go with the vampires?”

“Not if I make myself scarce, but he may ask you to escort them to the Hallows location. We can decide where we’ll stage their hideout at a later date.”

“And you’re sure you can break into his home?”

“Of course. I’ve been an accomplished picklock since I was a boy.” Madigan toyed with his cuff, and I noted a sense of pride as he spoke. “But Ivan has vampires guard his home, which is why we need to remove them. And without the witches and werewolves to battle the Hallows—”

“He and the vampires will have to do it themselves,” I said, finishing his sentence, processing the information.

“There is, however, one complication.”

“And what is that?”

“As I said earlier, the full moon isn’t until the end of the month. Your deadline to harvest will have come and gone. I need you to complete your trial and keep your head down until then. Can you do it?”

He seized one of my hands in his, warmth seeping from his skin and into mine.

I swallowed. Could I do it?

I nodded. “Yes. I can.”

His face cracked into a rare smile.

He really is good looking when he smiles... My mind was momentarily invaded by the memory of him undressing again, making my heart thump as warmth flooded my body, but as suddenly as he had taken my hand, he dropped it, looking away, flushed.

“Madigan,” I said, my own face burning at the question I was about to ask. “Can you read minds?”

He gave me a sideways glance, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “No, but I can smell moods.”

“You can smell moods?“ I repeated sceptically.

“In a sense. While Brain Eaters focus almost entirely on blood, Blood Drinkers can enjoy a greater variety. Providing I’m close enough, I can tell one person from another from their scent. I can smell when someone is stressed, or sick... or aroused...”

Blood rushed up into my face, burning as I comprehended how he’d known I’d been thinking impure thoughts about him. Though difficult to detect in the firelight, I was certain he, too, was blushing. A corner of his mouth twitched. I became hyperaware of the space (or lack of) between us. The heat radiating through me was not from the fire. It was, in fact, emanating from him.

“You’re warmer than I thought you’d be.” I raised a hand towards his face. “May I?” He blinked rapidly before nodding in response. I brushed my fingers against his hollow cheek. “Is that another vampire thing? You’re warm?”

He nodded again.

“Would you... Would you warm me up?”

He flushed, swallowing so hard his Adam’s apple quivered. “Alright.” He raised an arm and jerked his head, indicating for me to shuffle closer to him.

I closed the gap between us, sliding across the fallen tree to sit beside him. He put his arm around me, his hand on my shoulder, and rubbed it up and down my upper arm. Heat permeated from his body and into mine, melting my innards as though he’d lit a fire inside me.

His hot breath caressed my cheek. Turning towards him, my eyes zoned in on his inviting lips. My stomach squirmed, like something was bubbling violently inside me. I leant in closer and I could have sworn that he mirrored my action so that our lips were mere millimetres apart.

In my head, I leant in and kissed him, massaging his lower lip between mine, and pulled his body against me. I imagined removing his clothes, how it would feel to have his bare skin pressed against my own, how he would feel inside me...

“Is that better?” he asked, his voice cracking, pulling me out of my fantasy.

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you warmer now?”

“Yes... Thank you.”

“Good.” His face was still inches from mine, lips slightly parted. “Then perhaps you will answer a question for me?” His voice was low, almost a whisper.

“Anything.”

He examined my face with an intense stare. Was this it? Was he really going to kiss me?

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how is your arm?”

The fire inside me was brutally extinguished.

“Oh! Yeah...” I pulled up my hoodie sleeve before peeling back the bandage, revealing the oozing mess beneath. “It popped today. So gross.”

He examined it, his warm hands brushing my skin tenderly. “Well, it doesn’t look infected, which is a blessing.”

He smiled again, and a moment passed where we simply stared at each other, until Madigan finally broke eye contact, coughing into his fist.

“We should probably get back and patch you up again,” he said.

“Can we come back here again sometime?”

This wasn’t the real question I was asking, and from his soft expression, I knew Madigan had read the subtext.

“Yes.”

He held out a hand to help me to my feet, which I accepted. The fire in my soul blazed once more.