Page 44 of A Taste for the Peculiar

Avirin purses her lips, the seed of an idea beginning to sprout.

She begins to enjoy her days at Mothry Cottage. It is strange sharing a home with other people after so many years feeling incredibly alone. Avirin has never been so privy to the lives of others. There is a strange intimacy in knowing someone’s comings and goings, the way they take their tea, how they appear at their most reposed.

Like Pye in his constant state of undress. Truthfully, she should have suspected it. Pye has always seemed restrained by formal clothing, the ink on their skin peeking out of collars and sleeves in search of freedom.

Avirin certainly isn’t complaining. At least, she wouldn’t be if the two of them hadn’t recently come to an agreement about their interactions. It’s like he’s testing her resolve, tempting her with the muscles in his back and the cinch of his waist. She can’t pull her eyes away from his tattoos stretching and flexing when he reaches for a book on the top shelf. By the third time he catches Avirin staring, he takes pity on her and begins to wear a robe.

It does nothing to stifle Avirin’s hunger, but she can’t let it out. Who knows what it would unleash this time. Wings? A tail? She grits her teeth.

Pye notices her struggle and places a bookmark between the pages he’s reading. “It’s been some time since your last feeding, hasn’t it?”

The two of them have begun to spend their evenings in the library, reading aloud to each other and trying not to become distracted. It’s a practice in self-control that Avirin is steadily failing. At least once a day, she feels a “headache” coming on and must retire to her room. It’s the singular place she can muffle her sounds with the pillow that isn’t between her legs.

It’s an exhausting and exhilarating act that never quite satisfies her, but for the moment, it’s all she has. She thought she’d been getting away with it until she emerged yesterday, and Pye’s antennae twitched all through dinner.

Not unlike the way they’re twitching now.

Avirin clamps her thighs together in the chair. No matter how refreshing her time here has been, something still chews at the back of her mind. It isn’t her own voice — at least, she doesn’t believe it is — but over the years, it has become so familiar that she can’t be sure any longer. It has been over a week since she was among society, but their sounds echo in Avirin’s ears. “Do you think the horns were a punishment?”

Pye looks taken aback, but when they speak, their voice is calm and even. “Do you?”

“It would make sense.” Avirin chews the inside of her cheek. “They appeared after I had already taken many liberties with you. Now that we’ve stopped, the horns have gone away.”

Pye considers it. “You find the horns undesirable. Is that correct? That is what makes them feel like a penance?”

Avirin huffs a laugh. “Of course! Every frightening tale is haunted by a creature who looks like that: crooked horns, bottomless eyes, fathomless hunger. Those things can’t be a sign of anything good.”

A bitter smile cuts across Pye’s mouth, but they choose their words carefully. “The world has taught us to deny ourselves. It creates deities to frighten us back into line, weaving stories of beasts to subdue us. They say it would be terrible to turn out like those creatures, but who are we hurting by accepting our true nature? Who are you hurting if you embrace what you are?”

She swallows. “When I feed, it drains people. It takes their energy.”

“You’ve only fed on willing participants.”

“Except for you. During our first lesson.”

Pye’s face softens, and it seeps into their voice like paint across a canvas. “That was an accident. It does not make you evil or wrong. I assure you, there are many ‘fine, upstanding’ members of the ton who enjoy harming others on purpose. None of them have been ‘cursed’ with horns. To me, that says those features have no connection with what is good or bad. The horns are not a punishment. They are not a reward. They just are.”

Pye moves closer to her, and she feels like a shaken bottle of champagne, bubbles fizzing through her entire being.

“And when those horns belong to you,” Pye murmurs, so close she can feel his breath, “they will never be anything but exquisite. No matter how your body changes, no matter what new traits appear, it simply means that there is more of you. More to look upon. To understand. To adore.” He looks into her eyes as ardently as when they are black. “I welcome all of it.”

Her chest cinches. She wants to surge toward them, to kiss them, to cry, but the whirl of her emotions keeps her in place. Pye’s words make her feel things. Things she wants. Things she needs. Things she’s still trying to understand. She will have to take time to inspect the feelings he’s filled her with, to stir her finger through them, to stare into the depths she has always been scared to dive into.

Pye takes a step back from her, like temptation is clouding his thoughts. “You do still need to feed. Currently, I may be unable to fulfill that purpose, but there are others who can.” He reaches into the desk for an envelope stuffed with a letter and sets it before Avirin. “Cascade would like to visit. She specifically mentioned missing you. How sweet you are. How…receptive.”

Avirin’s teeth drag into her lip when she takes the letter. It’s tinted a light shade of maroon, and perfume lingers on the page, sending Avirin back into her memories. She has not forgotten her night with Cascade — the dryad rocking into her, stirring sensations Avirin had never felt before.

Pye leans against the desk. “She also mentioned that perhaps you’d like to spend some quality time with both her and Selbie.”

Avirin’s head lifts in surprise. It’s an option she never knew existed, much like everything Pye has introduced her to. Three women? Together? Cascade alone was a revelation, but combined with Selbie’s cheeky grin, her nimble fingers, her creative spirit…

Avirin’s heels dig into the rug.

Pye watches her carefully. “You need not do anything that you do not desire —”

“Yes,” Avirin blurts. She tries to calm herself. Perhaps there is some truth to what Pye told her. Perhaps her desires are not evidence of corruption, and these twisted things she wants could just be beautiful. “I should very much like to see Cascade again. To spend time with both of them.”

Something deep and bright flickers in Pye’s eyes. “Then it shall be done, my lady.”