Garden of Thorns by Keary Taylor
Placing my head on his chest, I hear his Resurrected heart pound. My hand rests against a firm chest, covered by his own hand.
Lexington presses a kiss to the top of my head and I let my eyes slide closed.
Peace rolls through my veins, telling me this is exactly where I want to be.
Soft singing floats to my ears and even though it grows quieter, its location grows closer. I slit my eyes open just slightly.
Lexington walks in through my bedroom door. Utterly silent, he crosses the floor and climbs back into my bed, shaking it very little.
Fingers very lightly trail up and down my spine, moving first over my exposed skin, then over the thin fabric of my undershirt. I keep my eyes closed, smiling to myself as I keep my face toward the door.
“I know you’re awake,” Lexington says softly with a smile in his voice.
“I know you know,” I say, still keeping my eyes closed. “I’m just enjoying this.”
Soon his gentle fingers are joined by soft lips and a scratchy beard. He presses a line of kisses across my shoulder blade, working his way from my spine, out to the tip of my shoulder.
I finally turn my face, looking up into his incredible blue eyes.
“Have you ever noticed how our eyes are almost exactly the same shade of blue?” he asks quietly, almost as if he can read my mind.
“Really?” I ask as I reach up and lace my fingers through his wild hair.
“Really,” he says as a smile crooks on the left side of his mouth. “Look.” He reaches over to the bedside table and grabs his phone. Flipping over so he’s on his back, he lies by my side. He pulls up his camera and turns it around so we can see ourselves.
I, of course, notice my wild mane of blonde hair and the flushed nature of my cheeks.
But there’s Lexington, smiling up at the camera.
Both of our blue eyes glow brilliantly in the mid-morning sun, shining through the window.
“You’re right,” I say, looking at the blue. I have a little ring of gray around the outside of my eyes, and Lexington’s are slightly brighter, but they are indeed almost the exact same shade of blue.
He snaps a picture unexpectedly and I laugh, and he quickly snaps another of the two of us.
“Stop!” I protest, just as he presses his lips to my temple, snapping yet another.
“I can’t!” he says loudly as he tickles my stomach. My nose scrunches as laughter bubbles from my chest and he continues snapping selfies of the two of us. “It’s a modern age, and every precious moment must be documented!”
“Lexington!” I squeal as his fingers dig into my side. I’m out of breath, worming my way away from his treacherous fingers. “No one likes to be tickled!”
“But it produces the most adorable crinkles on your nose,” he says as I straddle him, my knees resting on either side of the bed on both sides of his hips. He grabs my wrists, smiling up at me.
I lean forward, balancing all of my weight into his hands. Slowly, I bring my nose to his. My hair cascades down around us, casting us in our own cocoon. The smile on his face grows more serious and I see his eyes drift around my face, slowly sinking down, taking all of me in.
The undershirt I wear is thin, exposing the excitement he brings out in me. The jeans I fell asleep in last night are tight, low cut. My bellybutton is exposed, my top pulled up in our wrestling match.
He studies me, so I study him in return. The rise and fall of his chest muscles. The V-neck of his shirt dipping low, giving me a preview of the beauty I know is there. The sharp jawline. The scruff on his face. The tossed state of his hair.
“This is real,” I whisper as I bring my lips to his cheek. Softly, I brush them over his skin, letting that reality sink in. “Right here. Right now. This is real.”
He turns his face, bringing my lips to his. Gentle. Soft. Understanding.
Somehow I don’t doubt that he knows exactly what I’m meaning right now.
“Can I have you?” he whispers into my lips.
I meet his eyes, and suddenly I see everything. The mornings. The days. The evenings, and the nights. Together.
“We’ve been each other’s for weeks already,” I tell him the truth as I lean forward, capturing our hands between our chests as I let myself sink into his lips.
Lexington rolls us, propping himself up on an elbow, looking down into my face. “This is different,” he says as he brushes a hair behind my ear. “I just need you to know that. Everything with anyone before was always difficult. This…I didn’t think these things could happen easy.”
I nod. “I hope you realize the different woman you pull out of me. I’ve never been the most joyful person. But with you…that’s just what I feel.”
He traces his fingers down my face, trailing down the side of my neck.
I bite my lower lip, trying to put the emotions I’ve been struggling with for weeks into words. “Everything that happens in our past defines us. All those big and insignificant events. They make you who you are. I just always assumed there was too much darkness in me. It sucked away all the chances at real happiness or joy.”
I look up into his eyes. “I just always thought I’d be on my own. I mean, I had Alivia. I had Ian, but he didn’t really know me. Not in the important ways. So I just settled that I was enough for me. I just couldn’t see myself ever finding someone I fit with.”
The look in his eyes, says it all: we just are. We just settle into each other.
“We’re total opposites in most ways,” I say with a smile. “But you’re the one and only person I needed to fill in the rest of who I am.”
“If you really think about it, it’s a little bit of a miracle we found each other,” he says, sliding his hand down to my hip, his palm resting against my bare skin. “Born across the country, a century and a half apart. How many little circumstances had to fall into place at just the right time.”
A smile pulls at my lips, and he’s right. The impossibility of love has a way of putting everything into place.
I was never the kind of person to believe that until a few weeks ago.
My stomach growls, and my eyes grow wide in embarrassment.
“The woman may be fearless, but she is still human!” Lexington declares. He climbs from the bed, pulling me up as an even bigger smile overtakes my face. “The woman who has taken siege of my heart needs sustenance and so I shall provide!”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I say, pulling back as he tries to lead me out of the room. “I feel disgusting. Let me at least change.”
“You’ve got two minutes,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek and ducking into his own room.
I smile happily and slip into my closet.
It’s a Sunday. I see snow outside blanketing the ground, at least six inches deep, but the sun shines brilliantly.
It’s certainly a day for pajamas. I settle for an oversized nightshirt, pushing the sleeves up to my forearms, and slide on a pair of slippers. A visit to the bathroom, and I pull my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head.
Stepping outside of my room, I hear Lexington shuffling things in the kitchen. Shada darts down the stairs ahead of me, skirting around the corner to go hide somewhere.
When I round into view of the kitchen, I falter, hugging to the wall, feeling my face instantly blush.
Lexington stands at the counter, his back turned to me. All he wears is a pair of red sweatpants.
Giving me full view of all that glorious skin of his.
Suddenly, he looks over his shoulder at me, and I feel my face blush all the harder.
“All those words spoken last night and this morning, trust me, Elle, you have full permission to look as much as you like.” His tone is teasing, but also incredibly proud.
I give a tiny squeal, hiding my face in my hands. “This is so…”
“Incredible?” he says, and I hear him step forward. “Wonderful? Fantastic? Perfect? Romantic? I can go on and on.”
He gently pulls my hands away f
“Will it make things easier for you if we make this official?” he asks, his eyes dancing. I give him a little nod, playing along. “Elle Ward, will you be my girlfriend? Thus giving you full rights and privileges to look at my naked body any time of day or night. Giving you the right to be bossy and demanding I make chocolate runs whenever the need strikes you. Will you officially be mine?”
I bite my lower lip, trying to contain the most ridiculous smile that has ever been on my face, in all twenty-three of my years on this earth. “Yes, Lexington Dawes, I would be absolutely thrilled to officially be your girlfriend.”
Oh, how that smile of his kills me.
“Say it,” he pleads.
“Say what?” I play dumb, even though I think I know exactly what he wants.
“Say the word,” he begs, leaning in closer. “Make my freaking decade. Please say it.”
I look into his eyes, reaching up and wrapping my hands behind his neck. “I’m your girlfriend, Lexington. And you’re my boyfriend.”
A triumphant laugh breaks from his lips just a moment before he wraps his arms around me, crushing me to him as he takes my lips.
As he backs away, taking my hand in his, and pulls me into the kitchen, I ask myself again, for the millionth time, this time for different reasons:
How is this my real life?
The waffle maker is in full demand and we go back and forth with the toppings, getting creative. And things just get crazy and messy when a can of whipped cream is found in the back of the fridge.
“Can I ask?” I say as I step over a splatter of something runny and sticky on the floor. Lexington immediately turns, placing his hands on my hips, the look on his face turning deep and lustful. “Where did you get the scars?”
I raise one of my hands to touch the one on his chest, lightly brushing my fingers over it. My other hand slides to his back, running over the raised scar there.
“You know not everyone made it out of that fight with the Bitten,” he says quietly as his eyes study my face. “I just about didn’t walk off that field.”
Tightness grips my chest, choking the air from my lungs. I bite my lower lip to hold in the sorrow that sweeps over me. I didn’t know it then, but on the worst day of my life, I almost lost the man I would come to love someday.
“It’s okay, Elle,” he says, bringing his hand up to my chin, drawing my eyes back up to his. “I’m still here, and I like to think stronger for it.”
I put on a little smile and nod. “What about the tattoos?” I ask, trying to move on from such a dark memory.
Lexington turns slightly, looking over his shoulder toward the three tattoos that occupy his shoulder blade. “They’re the years my siblings were born. I kind of started feeling like I was forgetting them, it was such a long time ago. Now I carry them around with me always.”
“That’s beautiful,” I say quietly, leaning in and pressing my lips to his.
Knowing Lexington, I should have anticipated him grabbing the whip cream and suddenly sliding the tip between our lips and giving it a big squirt.
Twenty minutes later, licking a glob of peanut butter from the back of my hand, I go to the fridge for some milk. I grab a bag of blood while I’m in there, handing it off to Lexington while I pour myself a drink.
“I know this sounds absolutely disgusting to you,” he says as he opens it. “But mixing this blood into the batter sounds amazing right now.”
And for a second, the thought does turn my stomach. But with a smile, I take the bag from him, and pour half of the O+ into the batter. I hold his eyes with a tiny smile as I mix it in.
“And I’m absolutely done for,” Lexington says, wrapping his arms around my middle and burying his face into my neck.
It’s absolutely unorthodox. There’s nothing normal about the way I feel his fangs graze over my skin as he kisses his way from my shoulder up my neck. Or the ultra strong grip he has on my nightgown, pulling it up my thigh.
Nothing natural about the blood waffles I make for the one and only boyfriend I’ve ever had. Nothing casual about this house we live in with two-dozen poisonous plants buried beneath the snow on the roof.
But it’s my version of absolute perfection.
“Come on come on come on,” Lexington coaxes the car as we attempt to make it up the slight hill to the House. It snowed again last night, bringing another four inches. It’s nearly a foot deep at this point.
“It’s been hours since they plowed,” I say, looking down at the road. It’s covered in a thick sheet of snow and ice. “Everyone is at home with their families.”
“We got this,” he says, putting the car in reverse and backing down the hill to level ground. “I grew up in New England, I will not be bested by snow and a hill!” He gives a war cry, pressing down on the gas, rocking us forward.
A squeal rips from my throat as we slip for a moment, but we’re climbing. And finally, we make it up and crest the hill.
“Yeah, baby!” Lexington cries triumphantly, pumping his fist in the air as he turns right and parks in front of the House.
Lights twinkle from inside, barely still detectable in the early afternoon light. Lexington and I grab the packages in the back seat and hurry inside, letting ourselves in.
“Oh, wow,” I say as soon as I step foot inside.
“And I’m instantly starving,” Lexington says as he takes my coat, hanging it on the coat rack behind the door.
It smells amazing inside. Turkey and potatoes, some kind of pie. Memories of cooking Thanksgiving dinner with Lula flood through me instantly.
And the rest of the house is decorated classily. A huge tree dominates the living room. Wreaths and glittering deer and garlands are splashed throughout the house, adorned with red and white ribbon.
“You made it through the snow.” Julie walks around the corner, a warm smile on her face. She practically glows, and instantly I know who did the decorating.
“Wasn’t going to let just a little bit of snow keep me from celebrating Christmas,” Lexington says jovially as he leans forward, kissing Julie’s cheek. But he keeps my hand in his, pulling me along with him.
“Is it Christmas?” a dark voice calls from within the house. Michael rounds the corner, an annoyed look in his eyes. “I hadn’t realized.”
“Michael,” I greet him, looking him up and down. He’s dressed similarly as the other night. Jeans, boots, a denim coat. He’s combed his hair back and cleaned his beard up a little bit. “How are you settling in?”
His expression darkens and he looks around, taking in the festive decorations. “It’s been an adjustment.”
I crack a tiny smile for him. It’s comical, really, seeing him in this setting after our last encounter.
“You can put the presents by the tree,” Julie says as Duncan steps out into view. His eyes instantly drop to me and Lexington’s hands, which are still clasped together.
“No more agony?” he asks as a smile grows on his lips.
“We both got what we wanted,” I say, flashing a little smile.
“Guess that means you’re finally off the market,” Aleah says, giving me a dark look, even though a coy smile curls on her lips. “The eternal bachelor has been claimed?”
“That’s right, gentlemen,” Lexington says loudly. “She’s mine. Don’t touch. Don’t even look at her or I’ll have your throats.”
Except I know he’s all talk. He’s not like that. Possessive is the opposite of everything he is.
“Yeah, yeah, the love birds are here to rub their happiness in our faces.” Robert walks down the stairs, brushing past us without so much as a look in our direction.
I look around as everyone gathers in the living room. Eva, Julie, Robert, Michael, and Duncan. Kai is absent, and I’m glad he’s spending the holiday with his family.
It’s obvious from the stiff and formal conversation
I don’t know if it’s their common curse, being what they are. But their kind does seem to bond quickly. They form relationships, families.
I watched it happen in Alivia’s House. And I’m sure it will happen here, given time.
But I just feel like an outsider.
I don’t need mass amounts of friends, a huge family.
I just need a few people in my life who mean a great deal.
It’s hard to imagine myself fitting in with these people. I never did back in Silent Bend.
But looking over at Lexington, who laughs at some joke Duncan made, who does fit in with these other vampires so well, I know I’m willing to try.
Six Born vampires, and one Bitten, sitting around a tree on Christmas morning, laughing, telling stories. Some of them are recent. Some from fifty years ago. Some from over a hundred.
Wrapping paper forms a big pile in one corner of the room. Duncan receives six new books, a new briefcase from Julie, and an ugly sweater with a reindeer on it from Aleah. Aleah gets a lot of new black clothes. Eva receives several cookbooks and a huge wok. Apparently she’s the one who’s been cooking the delicious smelling meal.
Michael gets a pair of socks from Julie and a bag full of my glass orbs filled with vampire acids from me.
I give Duncan a look, and he offers a smile before darting up the stairs. He comes back down a minute later, carrying a huge box wrapped in silver paper.
“Whoa,” Lexington says with a huge smile as Duncan sets it down in front of him. “What’s going on with this?”
I feel my face flush red. “It’s from me. Open it.”
All eyes turn to Lexington as he gets this little boy smile on his face, clearly thrilled to be receiving anything. He rips the paper, pulling open the box.
And a reverent look comes over his face as he pulls the guitar case out, and opens the lid.
“Is this…” he breathes, running his fingers down the neck of the guitar. “Is this what I think it is?”