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Margot has gotten used to Talia texting her (death) threats like it’s no big deal. Maybe it isn’t, honestly. It’s not like she has actually followed through on any of it—except for that one time she speared her through the heart with a silver spear tip, but that was what, two weeks ago? So instead of worrying, Margot grins down at her phone when she sees another text from Talia pop up.
Talia Burns: Why did I just see my daughter sneak out?
Margot Fairmont: Sounds like you should ask her, not me.
She swirls the red fluid in her glass around and sips it as she waits for a reply. Talia texts back almost immediately.
Talia Burns: Don’t make me come over there.
Margot writes back.
Margot Fairmont: You’re more than welcome. Though, if you want to see me, you could just say that. You don’t have to make it such a big deal.
Back at her house, Talia is staring at the phone, dumbfounded. How and why Margot is not taking any of this seriously is beyond her. Their daughters—two people supposed to be sworn enemies—are sneaking around doing God knows what, and Margot is out here making jokes. They’re not supposed to be like this. There’s no reason for them to even have each other’s phone numbers. Talia doesn’t like being that available and easy to track down. She’s supposed to be the last person vampires—especially Legacies—should be able to find.
Talia slips on a jacket and jumps in the car to drive to the Fairmont home. She’ll drag Cal home if she needs to, and as soon as she does they’re leaving. Savannah and all the memories it holds need to be left behind.
When Talia gets to the Fairmont’s house, the door isn’t locked. Margot must be expecting her. Fair, considering Talia quite literally told her she was coming. She touches the silver stake hidden in her clothes, just to be reassured it’s still there and she can protect herself if she needs to. If Margot left the door open for her, she must have a plan.
Cautiously, Talia steps inside. She looks around the hallway, expecting some kind of trap. Her and Margot have never met anywhere but on neutral ground so even though she knows where she lives, she’s never been inside. The door to the living room is open, and Talia sees Margot’s crossed, pale legs peeking behind the corner.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Margot calls from the couch.
Talia lets go of the stake, relaxes her posture and steps inside, looking like she didn’t just almost lose it. Margot lowers the book she was reading to her lap and closes it, leaving her finger between the pages to save her place.
“Where’s Cal?” Talia asks.
“I haven’t seen her.”
There’s nothing Talia would love more than to wipe that smug grin off Margot’s face. “Juliette!” Talia calls out, as if she’d actually reply to her.
“She’s not home. Neither are Sebastian and Elinor, in case you were planning on screaming their names next. We’re all alone.” Margot puts a bookmark between the pages of her book—Dracula, Talia now sees—and puts it down on the couch before getting up.
Talia nods at the book. “Dracula? Really?”
“Oh, it’s horrible representation, but everyone can have their guilty pleasures right?” She smiles politely. “Can I offer you something to drink?”
“No.” After a beat Talia adds a quiet thank you because she feels bad about forgetting her manners just because Margot is different from her. Margot walks around Talia, into the kitchen. She comes back not much later with a wine glass filled with something red, and Talia doesn’t dare to ask if it’s blood. Not out of fear of being bitten, but more out of fear of insulting Margot.
Margot makes her way back to the couch and sits down, pulling her legs up on the couch. “Please, sit down,” Margot says, gesturing to the empty armchair across from her.
Talia is tentative and ultimately says, “No thanks, I’d rather stand.”
Margot gets up again and walks around Talia, stopping when she’s standing a few feet behind her. “Do you not trust me?” she asks as she slowly walks towards her.
Talia looks straight ahead. She refuses to give Margot the satisfaction of turning around and admitting she’s not one hundred percent comfortable with her behind her. The weird thing is, she does trust Margot. Some part of her is screaming “Protect your back!”, “Mind your surroundings!” and “Never lose sight of your subject!”, but another part is more relaxed than it has been in years. She wants to pull out a weapon, turn around and stab Margot, but she doesn’t. She feels safe.
When she can feel Margot’s breath on her neck, Talia slowly turns around to face her. Margot’s face is close enough for Talia to make out every single one of her features. The wrinkles by her eyes, her perfectly kept eyebrows, the little layer of foundation that can’t be seen from a normal talking distance. And her forget-me-not blue eyes. Talia has been unable to forget them since she first made eye contact with Margot. She hadn’t even paid attention to them then, but when she thought back to that first interaction, the eyes were all she could remember.
“Why is your heart racing?” Margot asks, the most innocent smile on her face.
So much for keeping it together. “My daughter is missing.”
“No she’s not. You saw her sneak out, you know she’s with Juliette and no matter how much you hate it, you know she’s safe and she’ll sneak back in and act like she was never gone so you won’t be suspicious.” Margot pauses for effect before saying, “Unless, of course, she knows you saw her sneaking out.”
She doesn’t, and Talia knows Margot is right about Cal sneaking back in like nothing happened. She’s done it before, and she’ll do it again.
Talia doesn’t say a word. Instead, she takes in the smell of Margot’s perfume. She has to resist the urge to close her eyes and take in the smell of sandalwood and vanilla mixed with something so typically Margot.
Margot seems to notice this and gets even closer, to whisper in Talia’s ear, “Let yourself enjoy things. Give in.”
The feeling of Margot’s breath brushing past Talia’s ear sends shivers down her spine. “Can I see them?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“See what?”
“Your fangs.”
Without further questions, Margot allows her fangs to come out without moving away from Talia. She keeps her mouth open just enough for her to see them. She’s mesmerised by them. In all her training, no one ever told Talia how attractive fangs can be, how you can long for them. She’s never felt like this when she saw regular vampire’s fangs. Maybe it’s just another Legacy trick, the ability to make you want to get bitten, to make it easier on the Legacies to get their food.
“Does it have to be the neck? When you bite people?” Talia seems to have forgotten everything she was taught. It’s like a whole new world has opened up, uncharted territory for her to discover.
“It can be anywhere there’s blood,” Margot says. She’s patient with Talia, as if she knows exactly what kind of effect she has on her. “We often go for the arm when feeding, because it’s easier to reach and more comfortable for both parties. Of course, places like the neck can be more… sensual, if you’re into that.” She tilts her head just a little bit and smiles.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not at all. The venom that is released numbs the pain before you get a chance to feel it. Some people get addicted to it. They offer to be feeders just so they can feel the rush of the venom, they get high on it.”
Talia is fascinated. While she learned most of what there is to know about vampires and Legacies in her training, she doesn’t know much about vampire culture. She had no idea people could get addicted to vampire venom. And all of a sudden, more than anything, she wants that rush. She wants to try it, know if she could be one of the people who get addicted.
She’s addicted to Margot, and finally ready to give in. She knows Cal and Juliette formed a bond when Cal was bitten, and she wants that. She wants that with Margot. She wants to see her in her dreams and she wants to feel like they’re connected, even if she can’t see it.
“Bite me.”
“Well, that’s not very nice,” Margot says. “After I so patiently taught you everything you want to know about us—something I know you could use against me—you’re telling me to bite you?”
Talia is losing her mind. She can’t tell if Margot is that dense or if she genuinely thinks she’s telling her to go to hell. “Margot, please,” she breathes, getting as close to her face as she can without touching her. “Bite me.”
A soft hand cups Talia’s cheek, gently tilts her head and then she feels a little sting in her neck, immediately followed by some kind of near-trance state when Margot drinks her blood. She doesn’t drain her, not even close. It’s just enough to allow Talia to feel the sensation, but not nearly enough to feed Margot, let alone enough to kill Talia.
Talia closes her eyes and lets her head fall back, giving Margot full access to her neck. With her left hand, Margot is still cupping Talia’s face, her thumb running along her lips. Her right hand rests on Talia’s hips, covered by Talia’s own hand. She’s holding onto Margot, digging her nails into Margot’s arm, as she gives into the sensation, to the pleasure of the bite.
A few seconds later, Margot pulls away. She slowly licks the already-healing bite, telling herself she’s only doing it to clean up the remaining blood while she knows deep down, she’s only doing it to tease Talia. She knows it’ll drive her insane and she loves it.
When they come face to face again, Talia’s eyes are still closed, like she’s trying to treasure every last second of this. Margot smiles faintly. She did this. Talia opens her eyes, immediately meeting Margot’s. She feels vulnerable, letting Margot see her like this, as if Margot is not the one who made her feel like this in the first place.
Without a second thought, Talia places a hand where Margot’s neck meets her head and pulls her closer. Their lips meet, the metallic taste of Talia’s blood still on Margot’s. This should feel wrong, Talia thinks. But before she can finish the thought, it’s already replaced by another.
Nothing has felt right until Margot. And nothing else may ever feel right again after Margot.