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“Oh yeah,” she said, her face lighting up. “Let go so I can grab it. It's so cool—kinda weird, but still super cool. And I can talk to crows now.” She straightened her shoulders.

I was too stunned to do anything but drop my arm, releasing her. Talk to crows? She shoved a plastic baggie with a white lump inside it toward my chest. “What’s this?” I asked.

“Open it. Carefully though, it might have all dried by now and it's all I got.” Her hips swayed as she sashayed out of the cage, leaving me there staring at her.

She plopped down on my bed, lifting her ass to pull her hair out of the way. “What is it?” I asked her. I still hadn’t opened the bag.

“It's Fae blood. Adrian is the emperor’s advisor, and I tested them and you’re right, they're crazy superstitious. He cut his hand grabbing broken glass from me. Probably would have been better if it was Leander, since he’s royalty, but hey, it's better than nothing.”

Turning the bag over in my hand, I noted the black stains. Black blood. It wasn’t dark just because it had dried.

This was useful, all of it. I now had Fae blood. A thrill ran through me, thinking of all the possibilities. Not a single one of my friends had ever gotten their hands on a treasure such as this—not that I knew about.

That still didn’t explain the difference in Brittney. “Something is wrong with you,” I remarked. Her face fell like I’d just kicked her favorite puppy, and I dragged my hand over my eyes. “Not like that. Did you drink Adrian’s blood?”

This time, her eyes grew big, and she glanced down at her lap. “I may or may not have licked the napkin.” She peered up at me.

“Now I can talk to crows. It was the crow’s idea for me to do it. They’re your crows and they were trying to communicate and, well, I understood enough to shove my tongue against Adrian’s⁠—”

“Enough.” I cut her off, wrapping my hand around her throat. I could hear her blood rushing through her veins... and smell the thick, heady scent of her desire.

She certainly liked being restrained. There was no way I was ever getting away from this woman.

“If you’re going to ingest anyone’s blood, it will be mine,” I growled at her, turning into as much of a fool as the rest of my friends. Every single one of them was either married or committed for eternity in some other way. My fate was written right in front of me, in the form of a soft, sweet, infinitely brave, and even more frustrating, gothic angel.

“I didn’t touch him,” she whispered, her voice hoarse because I was restricting her airflow. “At least...” She coughed, kind of. “...dress me up for the occasion.”

My hand dropped to my side and I stared at her, canting my head. I could certainly do that.

“I can’t believe you drank someone else’s blood,” I mumbled, dragging my eyes down her figure before glancing up again. She leveled a gaze, her eyes narrowing nearly to slits.

Stepping backward, I said, “Come.” I turned on my heel, listening to the skirt of her dress slide against my bed as she moved to follow.

Brittney jogged a couple of feet before I felt her directly behind me, and I relaxed, knowing she was right there.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Downstairs.” We reached the end of the hall and I opened the door. “Down to the ritual room.”

She followed, and I sensed her watching the wall sconces and candles bursting to life as I passed each one. “I need to learn how to do that,” she said, under her breath.

It was possible, with the illicit blood she’d ingested. We wouldn’t know until I tested her.

When we entered my ritual space, several crows were wandering around the circle, digging their beaks into the floor, chasing whatever they heard below the surface, Others were flapping their wings, cleaning themselves, or just hopping around aimlessly. A sweep of my arm sent them down the tunnel.

“I don’t see the one I talk with,” Brittney said, turning around.

“If he was in here, he’s gone now,” I told her. “This way,” I instructed her, motioning toward a table with a low shelf directly above, fixed to the wall.

Once I had her standing in front of the table, she gazed at me expectantly, and slightly puzzled. Ignoring her silent plea, I tried to decide what to do.

I’d envisioned this scene countless times, fantasized. I’d even jerked off at least twice—something I hadn’t indulged in for hundreds of years. Why would I when there were a thousand willing bodies for me to play with?

It wasn’t guilt that gave me pause. No, it was something far more serious than that. I respected her, and that knowledge was a deep weight pressing into my soul. Little did she know, but I wasn’t going to let her go.

My conundrum was silly when my act of caging her was received with such enthusiasm. My laugh was low and dark when I met her gaze.

“What?” she asked. “Can we do something cool?”