Indigo Spell: Bloodlines V3

The Moriarty to your Holmes?”

And somehow, against all reason, we were kissing. I closed my eyes, and the world around me faded. The noise, the smoke . . . it was gone. All that mattered was the taste of his mouth, a mix of cloves and mints. There was a fierceness in his kiss, a desperation . . . and I answered, just as hungry for him. I didn’t stop him when he pulled me closer, so that I almost sat on his lap. I’d never been wrapped around someone’s body like that, and I was shocked at how eagerly mine responded. His arm went around my waist, pulling me onto him further, and his other hand slid up the back of my neck, getting entangled in my hair. Amazingly, the wig stayed on. He took his lips away from my mouth, gently trailing kisses down to my neck. I tipped my head back, gasping when the intensity returned to his mouth. There was an animalistic quality that sent shock waves through the rest of my body. Some Alchemist voice warned me that this was exactly how a vampire would feed, but I had no fear. Adrian wouldn’t hurt me, and I needed to know just how hard he could kiss me and—

Metaphors. This was the cost of making out with an artist.

You’re my flame in the dark. We chase away the shadows around each other.

“Wish me luck,” I said.

“You make your own luck,” he replied.

. How nice would it be to just hang out without the weight of the world on us?

In Alchemist eyes, using magic was bad. In my eyes, leaving innocents in danger was worse.

In truth, I hadn’t been thinking of anything that specific. All I’d known was that Adrian was in danger. Protecting him had been instinctual.

“But each time you use spirit, you’re more likely to go crazy.”

“Already crazy about you, Sage.”

“I’ve said over and over, I’d do anything for you. I just keep hoping it’ll be something like, ‘Adrian, let’s go hot tubbing’ or ‘Adrian, take me out for fondue.’”