Page 72
“Much as I love that dress, you need a hoodie,” he answers, pulling out a heavy fur-lined one from The North Face…in black, of course.
He slides my arms into the sleeves, zips it up. Pulls the hood over my head. Then he grabs the red blanket off the end of his bed and says, “Come on.”
He reaches a hand out to me, and I take it—how could I not? Right now, there isn’t anywhere I wouldn’t follow this boy.
And that’s before he pulls back the curtains that cover his window, and I get my first look at what’s waiting for us.
54
What Could
Possibly Be More
Interesting than
Kissing Me?
“Oh my God!” I gasp, all but running to the window. “Omigod! How did you know?”
“You’ve only mentioned them like, three different times,” he answers, sliding the window open and climbing onto the parapets before holding his hand out to me.
I follow him outside, my eyes glued to the sky spread in front of us. It’s lit up like one giant rainbow, the background an incredible, intense purple while swirls of periwinkle and green and red dance across it.
“The northern lights,” I breathe, so caught up in the incomparable beauty of them that I barely feel the cold…or Jaxon draping his super-warm blanket around me.
“So do they live up to your expectations?” he asks, wrapping his arms around me from behind so that I’m snuggled up in the blanket and his arms.
“They’re even better,” I tell him, a little astonished at how intense the colors are and how fast the lights are moving. “I’ve only seen pictures before this. I didn’t know they’d actually move like this.”
“This is nothing,” he answers, pulling me closer. “It’s early yet. Wait until they really get going.”
“You mean there’s more?”
He laughs. “So much more. The higher the velocity of the solar winds hitting the atmosphere, the faster they dance.”
“And the colors are all about the elements, right? The green and red are oxygen and the blue and purple are nitrogen.”
He looks impressed. “You know a lot about the lights.”
“I’ve loved them since I was a kid. My dad painted a mural on my bedroom wall when I was seven. Told me he’d bring me here to see them one day.” I can’t help thinking about how he didn’t get to keep that promise. And about all the other promises that were lost when he was.
Jaxon nods and hugs me tighter. Then he turns me around so that I’m facing him. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do.” The answer is instinctive and comes from the deepest, most primitive part of me.
He knows it, too. I can see it in the way his eyes widen, feel it in the way his heart is suddenly thudding heavily against my own. “You didn’t even have to think about it,” he whispers, fingers stroking reverently down my face.
“What’s there to think about?” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. “I know you’ll take care of me.”
He closes his eyes then, rests his forehead against mine for a few moments before taking my mouth with his.
He kisses me like he’s starving for me. Like his world depends on it. Like I’m the only thing that matters to him.
I kiss him right back the same way, until I can barely breathe and the colors behind my eyes are brighter than the aurora borealis. Until it feels like I’m flying.
“Maybe I should have asked if you’re afraid of heights,” Jaxon murmurs after a few minutes, his lips still pressed against mine.
“Heights? Not really,” I answer, sliding my hands through his hair and trying to get him to kiss me again.
“Good.” He moves my right hand until it’s at my throat, so that I’m able to keep the blanket around me by clutching both corners in one fist. “Hold on to that blanket.”
And then he grabs my left hand and spins me out fast and sharp, like they used to do in those old-time swing dances.
I gasp at the fast, jerky movement—and the fact that through it all, I can’t feel the ground beneath my feet. Then scream a few seconds later as I get my first good look at the sky since Jaxon started to kiss me.
We’re no longer on the parapet looking up at the northern lights. Instead, we’re floating at least a hundred feet above the top of the castle, and somehow it feels like we’re right in the middle of the aurora borealis.
“What are you doing?” I demand when I can finally get the words out past the terrified lump in my throat. “How are we flying?”
“I think floating is a better description of what we’re doing,” Jaxon tells me with a grin.
“Flying, floating. Does it matter?” I clutch his hand with all my might. “Don’t drop me.”
He laughs. “I’m telekinetic, remember? You’re not going anywhere.”
“Oh, right.” The truth of that gets through to me, has me relaxing, just a tiny bit, the death grip I’ve got on him. And for the first time since we started floating, I really look at the sky around us.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “This is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.”
Jaxon just laughs and pulls me back in, this time with my back against his chest so I can see everything and feel him wrapped around me at the same time.
And then he spins us around and around and around through the lights.
It’s the ride of a lifetime, better than anything Disneyland or Six Flags could ever dream up. I laugh all the way through it, loving every second of it.
Loving the thrill of whirling across the sky with the lights.
Loving the feeling of dancing through the stars.
Loving even more that I get to do it all wrapped in Jaxon’s arms.
We stay up for hours, dancing and floating and spinning our way through the most spectacular light show on earth. On one level, I know I’m cold—even wrapped up in the jacket, with Jaxon curled around me and the aurora borealis spread out across the sky in front and behind me—but on all the important levels, I barely feel it. How can I when the joy of being here, in this moment, with Jaxon makes it impossible to focus on anything else?
Eventually, though, he brings us back down to the parapet. I want to argue, want to beg him to keep us up just a little bit longer. But I don’t know how his telekinesis works, don’t know how much energy and power it took for him to keep us up there as long as he did.
“And you thought vampires were only good for biting things,” he murmurs into my ear when we’re once again standing on solid ground.
“I never said that.” I turn in to him and press my mouth against his neck, loving the way his breath catches in his throat the moment I put my lips on him. “In fact, I think you’re good for a lot of things.”
“Do you now?” He pulls me closer, drops kisses on my eyes, my cheeks, my lips.
“I do.” I slide my hands into the back pockets of his jeans and revel in the way he shudders at my touch. “Though, not going to lie, the biting is pretty impressive too.”
I lift my mouth for another kiss, but he steps away before I can press my lips against his. I start to follow him, but he just smiles and rubs his thumb across my bottom lip. “If I start to kiss you now, I’m not going to want to stop.”
“I’m okay with that,” I answer as I try to plaster our bodies together.
“I know you are.” He grins. “But I have something I want to do first.”
“What could possibly be more interesting than kissing me?” I joke.
“Absolutely nothing.” He drops a quick kiss on my lips and then takes a big step back. “But I’m hoping this comes in a close second. Shut your eyes.”
“Why?”
He gives a heavy mock sigh. “Because I asked you to. Obviously.”
“Fine. But you better still be here when I open them up.”
“You’re in my room. Where else would I be?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not taking any chances.” I narrow my eyes at him. “You have a bad habit of disappearing whenever things get…interesting.”
He grins. “That’s because I’m usually afraid if I stay any longer, I’ll bite you. Now that I know you don’t mind, I won’t have to run quite so fast.”
“Or you could just not run at all.” I tilt my head to the side in an obvious invitation.
His eyes go from their normal darkness to the pure black of blown-out pupils, and I shiver in anticipation. At least until he says, “You’re not going to sidetrack me, Grace. So just do us both a favor and close your eyes.”
“Fine.” I pout a little, but I do as he says. After all, the sooner we get past this, the sooner I’ll be able to kiss him again. “Do your worst.”
His laugh is a warm breath of air against my ear. “Don’t you mean my best?”
“With you, I never know.” I wait impatiently for him to do whatever it is he’s going to do—at least until I feel his chest pressed around my back and his arms on either side of me. “What—?”
“You can open your eyes now,” he says.
I do and then nearly fall over in shock. “What…?”
“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice soft and uncertain in a way I’ve never heard from him before.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I lift a trembling hand to the necklace he’s holding just a few inches in front of me, brush my finger across the huge rainbow-colored gemstone hanging in the center of the gold chain. “What is it?”
“It’s a mystic topaz. Some jewelers call it the aurora borealis stone because of the way the colors flow together.”
“I can see why.” The cut of the stone is incredible, each facet carved to highlight the blues and greens and purples within it so that they bleed into one another even as they stand out. “It’s gorgeous.”