Page 5 of Radiant

The look on his face reminded me of something fragile, ephemeral. Perhaps he’d doubted my words, that first time outside his cottage. He didn’t look like he doubted them now.

Auris said nothing back. He didn’t have to.

He took us in hand together, adding his own spit for a lubricant. I whimpered at the sensation, all the more intense now that I was so far beyond tired, and my spine arched. Auris’s hair fell over his shoulder like a curtain, closing out everything but him watching me and me coming undone far too quickly.

I loved his touch, his body on top of me, but what truly tipped me over the edge was his eyes on me, cool but filled with emotion. The first tinglings of orgasm started where he was touching us, and it crested over me like a wave. I stared back at him, sharing the moment with him even as my breathing became labored and rough.

He licked his lips as he kept working us through the mess I’d made, and when his beautiful face tensed in a sweet grimace of pleasure, a sense of triumph filled me. This moment of him being vulnerable like that was all mine.

I enjoyed that as well as the warmth between us, him lying half on top of me. I ran my fingers over his biceps even as I could feel sleep trying to lure me away.

“I think I could sleep for a day now,” I whispered into the quiet of the room. “Can you stay like this until I’m out? On top of me, I mean.”

He turned his head, his hair tickling my ear. “For a while. But move under the covers. Winter is very nearly here.”

“Fine, fine.”

I let him do most of the moving, which he did, shaking his head in fond exasperation. The sheets smelled like detergent and sunshine. They fell over both of us when he settled his weight on me once again, and I smiled.

I fell asleep like that, waking once, the weight on top of me gone but a fire crackling somewhere nearby. I had learned to associate fire with my vampire, and the sound made me feel safe, letting me know that no one was there to hurt me. I went back to sleep, not even bad dreams haunting me.

3

The first morning—or first afternoon, according to my phone—made me feel like an event photographer who’d also covered the after-party. I was determined not to let jet lag bring me down though.

I stumbled to the en suite bathroom first, smiling at the fire that was still going. Auris had set out my toiletries and towels, and I made myself presentable, then went hunting for my suitcase.

It sat just outside the closed bedroom door, and looking around with a clearer head, I could see that Auris had put it in a kind of anteroom yesterday, then taken me through a longer tour of the apartment in order to undress me; maybe his way of making the place ours.

I dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, both of which I’d stolen from the beach house. It was larceny of necessity. My own sweats were fine, but Auris’s were a lot warmer, and winter was definitely in the air. Snuggled up in his clothes, I went to look for Auris. I was reasonably sure I’d find him sitting somewhere near the kitchen with his laptop open, but the apartment was big, and finding him might take me a while.

From the bedroom, I wandered into a living room. It had a fancy sunken floor and another fireplace, probably the best way to warm this place. The stonework it was made from stuck out though. All around it, the walls had been painted glossy black, but the stone was old. I wandered toward it, ran my fingers over the swirling design an artist had worked into it, and wondered whether I was reaching across time, tracing a creation whose maker was long dead.

It was an uncomfortable thought, but not a scary one. On some level, I’d always known my photographs would survive me. It was something every artist should hope for, after all.

I let out a breath and stepped back until my besocked feet hit an antique carpet. I turned away from the fireplace and went over to the window. It had two panes—a newer one on the inside, then what I assumed was something closer to the original on the outside. The newer ones made it so it was almost perfectly quiet, despite there being people outside.

I pressed my cheek to the glass. The people in the streets below wore the colorful jackets that I recognized as the uniforms of the tourist army, yet, in keeping with the times, there were no large groups, no press of bodies despite the narrowness of a city as old as Prague. Many here wore their masks, even outdoors.

I looked away from the outside, back to the generous world we seemed to have up here. If we were going to stay here longer, I would have to ask Auris about adopting a few houseplants to break up the black, gold, and terracotta tones.

I left the living room behind.

“Marco,” I mumbled.

Auris’s voice came from a few rooms away. “Polo.”

My steps quickened, though I stopped when I saw open sliding doors to a dining room and a gargantuan chandelier above a round dining room table. The chandelier was a castle piece, something you’d see in fairy tales, which was fine, given Auris was most definitely a fairy-tale prince to me.

I moved on. “Marco?”

“Polo.”

I was close, his voice coming through a door set at an angle. It brought me to the kitchen all right, which was down two steps. I craned my neck to look around the rounded archway and spotted Auris sitting at a rectangular kitchen table, framed by light. He had a pot and cup set out on the table next to him.

I grinned. “For having the coffee ready, I think I might revisit the vampire cult plan.”

He looked up. “You will do no such thing, as we have discussed already. How do you feel?”