Page 57 of Quiet
Isa winced at the wordslicing, but he reached out with all the confidence he could muster. When he grasped the handle, his skin tingled. He set the blade against his thumb but didn’t put any pressure on it yet. There was no point in stabbing himself there only to find out he’d need to give the fairy a lot more than his finger could produce. “Will a few drops be enough?”
The fairy nodded and made aget on with itmotion. Isa tried to ignore the hungry light that sprang to life in the fae’s eyes the second Isa had touched the knife to his thumb.
He was a little surprised Briar wasn’t trying to stop him anymore, so he turned to look at him. Briar was still leaning heavily against Isa, but he didn’t seem like he was tracking the conversation anymore. One hand was fisted in the back of Isa’s shirt and the other was pressed against his own forehead, like he was trying to keep something in. Or something out.
“Briar?” Isa said quietly. There was no response.
Isa pressed his forehead against Briar and got a dizzying impression of colors and sounds swirling and mixing with all of Briar’s other senses. It was pure chaos inside Briar’s mind. Touching Isa wasn’t helping anymore, or if it was, it wasn’t helping nearly enough.
Isa pulled away sharply and slashed his thumb with more force than he probably needed. He shoved the knife at the fairy. “Do it. Now.”
The fairy gave him an amused look and took the knife. A mischievous glint appeared in his eye, and he ran his tongue along the blade keeping his eyes locked onto Isa the whole time. “You taste delicious, small human.”
Isa gulped. “Do I have to do that too?” If it was for Briar, he could do it, but he’d be doing it to a loud chorus of extremeNOPEemanating from every cell in his body.
“You don’t have to,” the fairy said as he casually cut into his own thumb. A drop of blood beaded the tip, and it shimmered opalescent in the moonlight. “But who doesn’t like the taste of blood?”
Isa couldn’t tell if he was joking or not and realized he didn’t want to know.
“Now hand it over before my cousin loses himself.” The fairy motioned for Isa’s hand.
He held his thumb out at arm’s length, half convinced he’d be missing it when he pulled his hand back. A strong, slender hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled Isa forward until he and the fairy were less than a foot apart. He tilted Isa’s chin until they were staring into each other’s eyes.
For all of my long life, no harm will I do unto you, little one.The fairy’s words drifted into Isa’s mind.
Isa focused his thoughts and tried to send,I will never hurt you either, strange fairy man.
Even if his shins really were begging to be kicked.
Isa felt pressure against his thumb, but no pain. There was a tingling sensation not unlike when he held the knife, but instead of staying localized, it pulsed up his arm and radiated out through his entire body. The fairy’s magic brushed lightly against the name he’d implanted in Isa’s mind like a caress.
Isa had no idea how much time passed before the magic receded, but when it did, Isa realized it had left a piece of itself behind. He touched his chest where he felt something hot and restless stir.
“That’s the spell for my cousin,” the fairy explained.
“How do I give it to him?”
“Just kiss him.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. It’ll work a damn sight better than the original, too.”
“How so?”
The fairy waved his hand vaguely as if he couldn’t be bothered to go into the details.
Isa slid off the bench and turned around to face Briar. Sometime during the transfer of magic and blood, Briar had fallen away from Isa and had somehow managed to catch himself. His hands were pressed against the bench, shaky arms barely holding him up as he panted softly.
Isa didn’t hesitate. He slid a hand along Briar’s jaw and tilted it up.
He’d never kissed Briar before on his own. It was always Briar who pushed his way into Isa’s personal space, making his head swim, and sending dizzying swirls of pleasure through his body.
When Isa’s mouth touched Briar’s lips, it was magic. It was the sweetest song, the hottest fire, the brightest star pouring from Isa to Briar. It was all he could do to not get swept away. He was only vaguely aware of the ground under his knees, his hand on Briar’s jaw, a faint gasp of wonder from one of them—or both. The only thing that mattered was their connection.
Isa pushed up, shoving against Briar’s chest. He needed to be closer. So much closer. He needed to feel Briar. All of him.
Hands fisted in the back of his shirt and pulled him onto the bench. The magic in Isa’s chest continued to pour into Briar, locking them together and drawing them closer than Isa could have ever imagined possible.
