To Claim A Crown Book One: The Half-Blood King (Complete)

5.

Naomi lifts her head off the sparky pillow and groans. The pounding in her head is screaming loud. She shoves at Sarah whose arm is wrapped around her neck. Sarah rolls to the side of the bed then promptly rolls off the bed. She lands on the floor with a thud and an 'ow'. Naomi lifts her head slowly and struggles to crack an eye open.

"You okay?"

There is silence followed by soft snores. Naomi rests her head back down on the sparkly pillows. She glances over Sarah's room. There's clothes all over the floor and pillows scattered all along the bed. The last thing that Naomi can remember is slapping Raurlin. Laying in Sarah's bed she's not even sure she knows why but she knows she was angry. Angry enough to drink to the point that getting home is a complete blur and furthermore getting into Sarah's bed.

Naomi turns onto her back and lifts her head. The clock is flashing 11:00. Naomi has missed class for sure but Sarah still has time to make it. Naomi forces herself up slowly. She reaches for a pillow and throws it off the side of the bed where Sarah fell off. The pillow hits Sarah and Sarah props up, her make-up smeared and hair disheveled. She cracks an eye open.

"You gotta get up. You're going to miss class."

"No no no...you missed class. Why can't I miss class? My head hurts."

"Makes two of us. How did we get home?"

"Pretty sure your friend dropped us off."

Naomi sist up quickly, too quickly and there's a heaving in her belly.

"That idiot knows where we live?"

"He wasn't an idiot when you were making out with him."

There's bile in Naomi's throat. She rubs her temples and moves slowly to the side of the bed. She leans forward and moves Sarah's bin closer with her foot.

"You let me make out with him? Sarah!"

Sarah pushes herself up until she's standing. She holds her hands out as if to brace herself. The room spins slightly and she shuts her eyes. The events of the night start to filter back. Sarah pats at her chest and cracks an eye open. She walks carefully to where Naomi and sits beside her.

"Oh no" Sarah mutters as she sits down.

"What?" Naomi demands.

"I totally made out with Jackson. I don't think you made out with anyone."

Jackson steps out the shower and wraps his yellow towel around his waist. He runs a hand through his hair and wipes the steam off the bathroom mirror. The water drips from his hand to the floor. There's a slight throbbing in his head and his throat is dry and raw, a common after effect of going out. The night had not panned out the way it was intended at all. Raurlin had sulked home, on foot, leaving him at the club with Naomi and Sarah. Sarah.

The two had drunk themselves to the point of no return. Jackson was grateful that he was there to make sure they got home safely. He could understand why Naomi felt the need to drink the way she did, better than she would.

Rejection of an aeternum could invoke pain so intense anything regardless of the risk could seem like a good enough escape. Jackson got the sense that there was something deeper to it but he didn't push.

He somehow managed to rally them as the sun was rising and get them into his truck. Once in the car Naomi promptly passed out but Sarah remained awake, a giggling drunk mess. She reeked of tequila and although she tried to make conversation there was practically no logic in her speech. She joked about Jackson being a serial killer then made attempts at threats in the event that he should be a serial killer or stalker for that matter. She managed to direct him to their little apartment building.

Once they got there he instructed her to stay put in the car, she nodded sleepily trying to keep her eyes open. Jackson got out of the car and fished through Sarah's purse for the keys. He handed Sarah the purse who reached out for it but didn't grasp it at all when Jackson handed it to her. The contents fell all over his car floor. Jackson scooped Naomi into his arms. Her skin felt hot against his; feverish. She muttered as he carried her carefully up the stairs. The real challenge was trying to unlock the door with Raurlin's aeternum in his arms but he managed.

He had kicked the door open and placed Naomi onto the first bed he found. The room was messy and the windows and curtains were left open. He figured it was Sarah's. Naomi didn't strike him as the messy kind. Jackson closed them slightly on his way back down but not fully. When he got back to the truck Sarah was asleep, her head rested against the window. Jackson had opened her door and gathered all the contents of her purse except for a cherry lip balm under the seat. Jackson left it behind intentionally.

He scooped Sarah into his arms and she lazily wrapped her hands around his neck, a small smile on her face. Jackson remembered how flush her cheeks were and she looked beautiful. He carried her carefully to her apartment. He woke her gently calling her name and asked if she could stand. Sarah nodded, eyes closed, and Jackson eased her onto the ground but he knew the second her feet hit the ground the ground started spinning. Her face paled and Jackson hurried with pulling the key out his pocket and placing it in the door. As soon as he turned to support her her knees gave way. Jackson caught her quickly and as he did her lips were on his. The kiss was sloppy and wet but Jackson felt something he hadn't felt in centuries.

The same feeling that still tingles through his lips as he rubs them haphazardly, recalling the kiss.

Ancient Magick.

He knew that Sarah didn't know it. She would have never allowed herself to be that vulnerable around him if she knew. It wasn't uncommon that a magick worker could be unaware of their dormant potential. The Great War saw to that. Bloodlines became blurred over the many years and those possessing the vampire gene sometimes lived full lives never knowing their true self.

But that kiss. That damn kiss stirred a deep curiosity in Jackson. He was glad he chose to keep the cherry lip balm. When he got home Raurlin was sitting in the lounge, in the dark, with a bottle of whiskey. He was fuming and in a state of misdirected anger attacked Jackson.

For perhaps staying at the club or helping the girls home or maybe touching Naomi. The fight was ugly and resulted in a lot of broken furniture. It had been years since their last physical fight and Jackson did his best to purely defend himself.

Raurlin tired out quickly and collapsed onto the remains of the couch. Jackson settled down next to him and Raurlin handed him the whiskey. Jackson took a large gulp. The alcohol burned the cut on his bottom lip but it healed as soon as the alcohol reached the back of his throat.

After about an hour Raurlin attempted an apology and Jackson shook his head and shushed him. He wrapped an arm around Raurlin and kissed his temple, knowing the depth of the guilt that Raurlin felt. Shortly after Jackson stood up and announced that he would be taking a shower. The sun was already shining.

There's a bang at the door and Jackson jumps slightly. He turns to open the door but as he reaches for the handle Raurlin shouts "I don't even want to know what you're doing in there with the way that you're breathing. Could you move it to your room though."

Jackson swings the door open and nudges past Raurlin with a wink. Raurlin rolls his eyes and chuckles. He walks in past Jackson and kicks the door shut. He opens the window above the toilet and a gust of cool air levels out the heat in the room. Raurlin tugs off the remains of his t-shirt and drops it straight into the bin. He turns the shower faucet on. His body is tense. Today he will visit his father.