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The truth he tries to hide is in his icy blue eyes. He wouldn’t with me, but with James? Everything Dave said was true and more. Nolan not only slept with James, he fed from him too—not as a thrall, but as a fling.
Donovan snorts and walks over behind Nolan’s chair. “He won’t even take advantage of me that way, and I want him to.”
Nolan tips his head back to look up at him. “When I’m better, I’ll take advantage of you in any way you want me to.”
Something eases in Donovan, his shoulders relaxing, as he reaches a hand gently around Nolan’s throat. “I’m holding you to it. Once this shit is over, that ass is mine.”
“And too much information,” I interject before they can get into any more details. I don’t want the image floating in my head in case I like it a little too much.
“You were the one who asked about sex,” Donovan points out, releasing Nolan so he can lean on the back of his chair.
“Speaking of, I have another question,” I announce, this time purposely not meeting Nolan’s eyes. “So James wasn’t a virgin, and I am, and I was wondering…” I run my sweaty palms down my jean-clad thighs. “What is sex like?”
I expect some detailed, raunchy story from Donovan, or something riddled with warnings from Nolan, but instead, Kaleb answers, “Physically, it’s a building tension that infuses your entire body before an extremely pleasurable release that’s hard to compare to anything else.” He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Emotionally, when possible, it can be a deep connection that leaves you feeling content and closer to your partner in all ways. However, it can feel different for every person, so you won’t really know until you experience it yourself.”
“Leave it to you to make it sound both flowery and clinical,” Donovan scoffs, and then he looks almost accusatory at him. “Wait. How the hell do you know?”
“I was in a committed relationship for a year, remember?” Kaleb says, like he’s speaking to a very dense child.
“Yeah, with a Stepford wife in training,” he counters, standing up and placing his hands on his hips. “I didn’t think Rachel had it in her to get down and dirty.”
Kaleb sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It wasn’t ‘down and dirty,’ as you like to put it. I made sure it was romantic, and that I was a gentle and considerate lover.”
Nolan’s brows furrow, as if he sees something the rest of us don’t. “Sounds like she had the perfect first time.”
His smile is tight and doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Based on her reactions and what she said afterwards, the experience exceeded her expectations.”
“How did I not know you fucked?” Donovan asks, genuine surprise in his voice.
“Because, unlike you, I keep that kind of information private,” he explains, his expression one of strained patience. “I only said something now because it was pertinent to helping Felix.”
Donovan shakes his head. “It’s like I don’t even know you.”
Kaleb sighs with a sad twist of his lips and disappointment in his eyes. “You don’t.”
My heart is heavy as I consider the implications of Kaleb’s statement. Does he just mean D or all of us? Has he always felt this way? My reliable Obi-Wan with all the answers radically changes before me to someone who is tired and misunderstood. Guilt slithers in my belly as I recount how many times we’ve placed him in his box and then teased him for fulfilling the role. We’ve never wanted him to be perfect, but did we ever give him the room not to be?
Chapter 12
Felix
It’s been a month since we discussed possibly turning me into a thrall, and as I stand staring down at my own grave, I wonder what the hell I am even doing anymore. This afternoon, we’re celebrating my eighteenth birthday, except I never got my seventeenth. I know I should be glad it’s only a year difference, but I can’t help grieving the life I lost. I’ll never turn seventeen. My parents will never sing “Happy Birthday” to me again while I blow out the candles on one of my mom’s homemade cakes. I’ll never just be Felix.
Callie rests her head on my shoulder and squeezes my hand. “You’re thinking pretty hard, Casper. Want to talk about it?”
“I’m supposed to be an adult now, but I don’t feel very adulty,” I answer after releasing a pent-up sigh.
She thinks about her response, her head swaying as she ponders. “I don’t turn eighteen for another two weeks, so I could be wrong, but I think adulthood isn’t really a number, but a series of experiences.” She looks up at me with her clear gray eyes that have seen too much. “You may not feel like an adult, but you have experienced things that no one can fully understand. Being a kid requires innocence we no longer possess.”
Her words settle on me like a weighted mantle. I’ve died. My parents died. All I understood about the world shattered that night when demons found us sleeping in our beds and burned our bodies on a pyre in the backyard. I know violence, pain, and loss. I know what it is to walk in this world without being a part of it. I know what it is to face my own extinction. Bones and ash lie buried at my feet with my name etched in memory over them, but I’m still here. I lift my face to the sky and feel the heat of the sun on my skin. I’m still here.
“Okay, I’m an adult, but not like an adulty adult,” I joke, pulling her into my arms.
Callie tips her face toward mine, a sweet smile playing on her lips as the sunlight turns her blonde waves of hair gold. “Need different experiences for that, but we have time. This is only the beginning.”
I tuck a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear. “I look forward to having them all with you.”
Her eyes crinkle in the corners as her smile grows. “Sometimes, I dream of a future where we’re all together doing normal things. We all go off to the same college, and instead of living in dorms, we get a big house together. There are no demons, magic, or higher callings. We study together, eat together, and just… live, ya know.”
