Page 36 of Pareidolia

“Watching you,” he says, like it’s the most natural answer in the world. Maybe it is for a fucking moth monster.

“Right…” I drag the sheet to cover the lower half of my body and frown. My eyes drop to my chest… and sure enough, there’s a soft glow to the tattoo there, and the lines of the moth’s wings writhe and wriggle. The things crawling beneath my skin seem to have found a new home somewhere in the lines of the ink.

My fingers brush against them, and I shudder as they squirm beneath the pressure.

Whatever he infected me with before is obviously spreading, and when I look up and see him watching me with calm, curious eyes, I know it isn’t an accident that it’s happened.

“What did you do to me?” I’m not even sure that I want to know. I remember the pain, the feel of his hands in my chest…

I thought I was going to die… and I’ve never felt anything that fucking good in my life.

“You know.” It comes out on a breath, and he prowls around the room, circling the bed as I scramble up and stand in front of him in nothing but my boots. The only covering on my skin is blood.

So much blood.

“I know you tried to kill me,” I hiss, stalking to the water basin in the corner of the cabin and dragging the jug beside it up. He watches me curiously as I dump water into the metal tub and grab a rag to start scrubbing at my skin.

The water instantly runs pink, and his large body crowds against mine before I have a chance to clean the rag and bring it up again.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting clean.” Even as I say it, he draws his tongue in a slow, wet line along my shoulder. It’s like a cat’s tongue now, rough on the edges.

Not like it was last night.

Fuck, was that just last night?

“How long did I sleep?”

“A day. Your body needed time to recover⁠—”

“Because you tried to kill me.” It comes out as an accusation again, and this time it’s his teeth that I feel pressed against my skin, a prickling threat that draws more blood and makes me squirm. My fingers bite into the metal basin in a faint attempt at keeping myself under control.

Control… because I want to lean back against him. I want to forget why I’m angry and tell him to stick his tongue inside me again… I want…

“Trust me, little monster. If I’d wanted you dead, I would have torn your body in two and left your pieces as carrion for the scavengers.” The cool threat is followed by another lap of his tongue.

“You came here to kill me.” It isn’t a question.

“Yes, but I changed my mind.”

I’d changed his mind, but I wasn’t going to rub that in his face.

“And now… what?” We’re back to the first question, only this time I’m asking as he runs his tongue along the length of my spine and makes me shudder again. “What did you do to me?”

Nox doesn’t stop lapping blood from my skin, and he doesn’t answer me. I finally have to turn, which leaves me with a perfect view of his dark skin streaked crimson.

“What did you do to me?” I ask again. The question draws one of those shadowy tendrils from his back. My eyes follow the movement of it as it dips forward and strokes against my exposed chest and the tattoo there. “And what the fuck is that?”

“A part of me,” Nox answers. The tendril traces along my skin slowly. “A part you enjoyed…”

My hand drops, trying to bat the damned thing away, but it circles around my wrist faster than any snake, drawing my arm up above my head so suddenly my shoulder aches as I’m pulled up on tiptoe. As it happens, I feel another flood of desire wash through my body. It’s that latter part that drags a word from my chest. “Stop.”

Human niceties don’t seem to work on him, though, because another one of those tendrils snakes out, grabbing my other wrist and jerking it above my head like I’m nothing more than a doll. “The shadows are part of me—they hold the memories of all the people I’ve tasted…” He steps closer as he speaks, running his tongue along my jawline. I can’t do a damn thing to stop him, and I’m not willing to look ridiculous by kicking my feet. “Around humans, they can mimic those emotions, those desires and thoughts. They can make you feel things that aren’t real—see things that aren’t there. They’re like my wings,” he whispers. “They can lure you in.”

“Did you use those on me?” I wanted it to be true. I wanted to think that the only reason last night had happened, that I’d lost control and gotten off on nearly dying, was because of some weird, fucked-up shadow-magic pheromone bullshit. Nox grins, his sharp teeth so close I can smell the copper of my blood on his breath.

“No. I said humans. You…” He leans in closer—so close his lips brush against mine in an almost kiss that I’m not even sure he understands. “You’re just a little monster like me.” Those red eyes drop to my chest. “Especially now.”