Black and Silver

by Gwendolyn Harper

Ivy felt the moment Silas realized she was in the room. He stilled, gaze locked on the page in front of him for a beat before the corner of his lips curved in a knowing smile. As his eyes lifted to find hers, a ring of red appeared in his dark irises, luring her closer. “Good morning,” he purred, and the room went silent. Everyone stopped eating, turning to face the newcomer. Ivy’s pulse spiked and her cheeks burned. “Ah… Good morning,” she said, fighting not to tug at her sleeves.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Kat waving to her gently and she smiled, returning the gesture. “Please, sit,” Silas said with a nod. Striding to the nearest empty chair, she started to pull it out, but halted when Silas cleared his throat. “Not there,” he said, gesturing for her to come to his end of the table. “Next to me.” The burly man seated to his right got up silently and moved to a different chair. Ivy would have felt guilty, but the man didn’t even pause in his eating, and he certainly didn’t look annoyed.

Her gaze drifted to the many faces around her and she offered smiles to each of them. They were all Incubi. Except for Kat, of course, who was a Succubus, but the sentiment still stood. She was in a house full of Infernals. Ivy had known that would be the case, but knowing and seeing were two different things.

“Will you stop badgering her,” Kat called from her end of the table. “Let her eat, Silas. Then you can pester her all you’d like.” Ivy expected a man in Silas’ position of power to glare at Kat. To glower and snarl and order her to be quiet. Instead, he rolled his eyes and chuckled, returning his attention to the newspaper in front of him.

“My sister might not have said thank you, but I will,” she murmured. “Thank you.” Silas stilled for a beat, pretending to read, before he looked up at her. “You’re welcome, Ivy,” he said, Birmingham accent thick in her ears.

“That’s not what I asked,” he said firmly. Leaning closer, he set his paper aside as he added, “Remember what I said last night, Ivy. When I ask you a direct question, I expect a direct answer.” Ivy’s face heated as she stared deep into his hypnotic red gaze.

Silas ducked to catch her gaze, and she realized she’d looked away in silence. “Why don’t you like being watched while you eat?” Ivy considered getting up from the table, but his entire presence created a gravitational pull that held her in place. “Because it makes me feel uncomfortable,” she said, barely above a whisper. “And why is that?” Her distress turned to anger. “Why do you fucking think?” She hissed, setting her cup down. “Is it that surprising the fat girl doesn’t want to be gawked at while she’s just trying to have her breakfast?” The tight coil in his body snapped as understanding flashed in his eyes.

At first she expected him to look at her with pity, but instead, Silas merely smiled. Reaching across the short distance, he took her hand in his, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “Listen very carefully, sweet Ivy,” he murmured, seducing her closer and closer with each word. “I do not ‘gawk’ at anyone. When I look at someone, it’s because I want to. Because I’m enjoying what I see.” His grip tightened, forcing every molecule in her body to focus on him. This time, when her cheeks burned, it wasn’t from embarrassment. “Never think for a second that I’m shaming you,” Silas continued. “And from now on, when you find my gaze lingering on you, I don’t want you to cower. I want you to delight in it.” He said the last words with such dark, lovely intensity she could barely feel the air entering and exiting her lungs. Releasing her hand, he smiled and the red rings in his eyes flashed impossibly brighter.

“Devils, Castlebar to Dublin is quite the change. Do you miss home?” Silas shifted in his seat next, rustling his paper. “Now who’s pestering her?” While Kat scoffed, Ivy smirked at him. “To be fair, I like her questions more than yours.” If she didn’t know any better, she’d think Silas was mildly offended by her assertion. Kat chuckled. “See?” Returning his attention to the article in front of him, Silas muttered, “Fine, chatter away at the poor woman.”

“We’re family,” one of the men—Edgar—said, tearing a scone in half. “But not by blood.” “Thank Lucifer for that,” Kat said. “I can’t imagine sharing the same genes as some of these brutes.” In retaliation, Edgar chucked a raisin at her, but she only giggled. “Manners, please,” Silas warned without lifting his gaze. Kat rolled her eyes. “Sorry dad.” Curling his lip, Silas shuddered. “Never call me that again.”

“It’s why I wanted you moved in with us,” Silas said, mostly to her but he didn’t seem to care that others were listening. “I can protect you better if you’re living under my roof.” Kat pegged him with a firm stare. “You didn’t tell her the risk?” “I—” “He did,” Ivy lied coolly. “I just didn’t take it all in last night, that’s all.” She felt the heat from his stare on her profile and when she glanced up, the red ring in his irises burned so bright she thought they might cast a glow across the table.

Turning to Ivy, Silas lowered his voice. “I would like to give you a full tour of the house but I’m not sure how long I’ll be. You’re welcome to wander on your own, just remember—” “No poking around rooms that aren’t mine,” she cut him off gently. “Got it.” Smirking, his gaze dropped to her lips and then to the dip of cleavage on display in her V-neck. “I’ll find you when I’m done,” he murmured.

As she pushed her chair back, he tracked her movements like a cat watching a mouse before taking a swipe at it. “Still underestimate me?” “Pardon?” She asked, furrowing her brow. Silas raked his gaze over her as she stood before him. “I’d say the clothing left for you fits just right,” he purred. Heat flooded her face and she struggled not to press her thighs together. Straightening to her full height, she said, “I don’t know. These jeans could have some more stretch to them. Make them a bit more flattering.” Turning, she heard the rumble in his chest and felt his eyes glued to her arse with every step she took out of the room.

Silas dug the tip of his fang into his cheek to keep from openly growling. More flattering. If those jeans were any more flattering he’d have laid her out on the table to eat instead of his eggs and toast. The thought wallpapered itself to the inside of his mind until he was salivating and aching. Shit, he needed to feed. Ivy wasn’t ready for him yet though.

Her arms wrapped around her torso, as if she could hold herself together by force. Silas gripped the edge of his desk until the wood groaned under his hands.

Kat smirked. “What did I just say about acting big and tough?” “That’s for men who posture and blow hot air. I do neither of those things.”

“She’s really something, huh?” Kat arched an eyebrow, grinning at him. His chest warmed and tightened, hyper aware of the Witch wandering his home. “Yes. She seems to be.” “You like her.” Standing, Silas circled the desk and tucked the paper into a drawer. “And if I do?” Kat tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’d say it’s about time.” He didn’t respond. Didn’t trust himself to speak. Everyone in the house knew his history, but that didn’t mean he wanted to discuss it.

“Kat.” “Hm?” Slowly, so as not to scare her, Silas pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pressing her into his chest. Tightening his hold, he ducked to lean his cheek to the top of her head. “I missed you,” he whispered. “We all did.” The tension in her body ebbed as she allowed herself to be held. “I missed you too,” she breathed. “Thank you for—” “Shhh,” he cut her off. “Don’t ever thank me for doing right by you.” Squeezing her again, he let her go, smoothing her hair back and smiling warmly. “Enjoy your day,” he said. “Thank you for your time.” Nodding, she blinked away the sheen in her eyes before walking out of the room. Silas waited until the shaking in his hands subsided before leaving as well.

Ivy may have had mostly free reign of the house, but she was drawn to the garden almost instantly. The winding expanse of deep greens and pops of colorful blooms lured her down the stone pathway until she was surrounded by plant life. She gently stroked each available leaf and petal, whispering hellos and ‘my, aren’t you gorgeous’ to the trees and shrubs. And when she found the herb beds tucked away behind a wild rose bush, she dropped to her knees to inspect them, smiling at the little balsa wood name plates. “Hmm, you seem a bit dry,” she murmured, fingering a gnarled thyme sprig. “Maybe we should get you a better sprinkler system.” “Or I could tell Boris to water it more.”

Jerking her head up, Ivy peeked over the roses. “Eavesdropping are you?” Lips curving in a warm grin, Silas tucked his hands into his pockets as he strode closer. “To be fair, you were talking to plants,” he said. “I didn’t know such conversations were private.” “All communication with plants is private. Why else would I talk to something that can’t talk back?” She smirked, brushing the dirt from her palms. Rounding the flowering shrubs, he looked her over with heated amusement.

“Is that something you do often?” Tucking a springy curl behind her ear, she said, “I’m afraid to answer that, otherwise you’ll think I’m a nutter.” Stopping at her side, he g...

“I thought I’d find you in the house, poking around the library or entertainment room,” he said, still gripping her fingers. Ivy tried not to squint at him in the bright morning sunlight. “I didn’t even see those, to be honest. The second I spotted trees, I…” She trailed off, gesturing with her free hand. Her free hand because Silas had yet to let go of her other one. “You like being outside,” he said. It wasn’t a question. “Yes,” she said. “Is that… I mean, I know this isn’t technically the house but—” Silas rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, smiling. “It’s part of my property and therefore you’re more than welcome to wander around every inch.” He leaned in a fraction, ducking close. “And talk to every blade of grass if you wish.” Ivy ignored the flush creeping up her cheeks.

She felt Silas track her every movement, and she wasn’t sure if that thrilled her or made her nervous.

“You also wanted revenge,” she murmured. His eyes seemed impossibly darker as he said, “Yes. Does that frighten you?” Ivy’s limbs buzzed, her heart kicking in her chest. “No,” she answered honestly. “It doesn’t.” A ring of red appeared around his irises, flickering like real flames. Moving towards her, stopping only a few inches away, Silas smiled down at her wickedly. “You continue to surprise me, witchling,” he purred.

Her gaze dropped involuntarily to his mouth, and the pearlescent tip of his fangs peeking out as he spoke. Silas noticed immediately and the red in his eyes intensified. “Guess that means I don’t have to worry about you growing bored with me,” she said, much more breathlessly than she’d ever intend. “I can say for certain you do not bore me.” Ivy swayed a fraction closer to him, silently wishing he’d lean in and kiss her just as he did the night before.

Backing up, she narrowly avoided sticking herself in the arse with a bunch of rose thorns. Side by side, they strode up the stone path in relative quiet. Silas pointed out the brick patio she’d completely missed on her hurried venture to the garden, and the outdoor dining area complete with a stoneware oven. “In summer we have pizza and movie nights out here,” he said, opening the patio door for her. Ivy thought he was joking at first, but his expression held nothing but honesty. “That… sounds like great craic,” she said.

“Infernals are a bunch of hot-heads, eh?” He smirked. “We can be. When provoked.” Funny, as he’d been nothing but even keeled since she’d arrived. Well, except when she fainted. He got awfully worked up over that.

“Why are you showing me this room too?” Silas pivoted to face her. “Because I want you to feel secure knowing the layout of the house. And should you need me, you can always find me, no matter what room I’m in.” Surprise had her lashes fluttering as she stared up at him. “I’m never off limits to you, Ivy,” he murmured. “No matter the circumstances.”

It could have been a sentiment he pressed upon all of his employees. He already offered them housing, food, amenities beyond some five-star hotels. It wasn’t a stretch to think he’d want them all to feel comfortable seeking him out when necessary. But the warmth in his red-ringed eyes told a much more nuanced story. He want...

Before she could form a response, he reached up to brush a curl back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Will you have dinner with me tonight?” Silas asked, voice drawing her in like a lasso made of smoke. Goosebumps spread up Ivy’s arms. Only if you promise to eat me, her desire spoke in her head. Shaking herself, she nodded. “Of course.”...

“Boris’ quarters are here,” he said, nodding to one door. “Should you need him.” Ivy glanced at him. “Boris doesn’t seem… like the rest of your employees.” “He’s not,” Silas said plainly. “So that makes him…” The corner of his lips twitched. “You’re asking if he’s an Incubus.” He shook his head. “He’s not. Boris’ mother was half-Fae, which means he’s mostly mortal but with several handy tricks up his sleeve.” Ivy gaped. “Boris is Fae?” “A quarter Fae,” Silas corrected.

Planting a hand on her hip, she retorted, “What happened to direct questions earning direct answers?” Sighing like he knew he’d been had, Silas flicked his gaze up to the ceiling.

There. Satisfied?” “Not even remotely, but I can tell you’re not in a sharing mood,” she said with a smirk. Moving in close, he grinned at her with devilish, feline intent. “I could be. Just say the word and I’ll happily show you how much I’m willing to disclose.”

Ivy’s pulse skyrocketed and her throat went impossibly dry. God, he was gorgeous like this—smiling with his fangs flashing, his dark eyes glowing with red, smooth, tan skin so close she could touch. Pull yourself together, Ivy, she scolded herself. What are you going to do, jump the man right here in the corridor? As if he could read her mind—or scent her interest like a perfume—the rings in his eyes blazed and a deep, luscious growl rumbled in his chest.

“Twice in one day,” he breathed, gaze dropping to her lips and then lower to her curves beneath snug cotton and denim. “You may drive me mad yet.” She didn’t have a chance to ask what he meant by ‘twice in one day’...

Turning a corner, Silas paused in front of a dark stained wooden door. “This room you won’t go into without me,” he said, but his tone was gentle, not at all warning her against going inside. “I prefer to feed in private, and I don’t want you to feel nervous or like something more is expected of you, so I don’t often feed in my bedroom. This room has one purpose only.” Heat flamed her cheeks and her knees suddenly wobbled.

“One… purpose,” she echoed. Silas caught her stare. “Ivy—” “Right, yes, of course. I mean, it’s part of our bargain. Part of my employment. So, obviously—” “Ivy,” he repeated, cutting off her verbal spiral. “It may be part of our bargain, but like I said, I will not touch you unless explicitly asked. Everything done will be negotiated and discussed beforehand, and you are allowed to stop it at any time.” Swallowing, she nodded.

“And how exactly… do you feed without…” Hunger flashed in his eyes, but his expression stayed neutral. “My kind feeds on sexual energy,” he said. “Arousal, foreplay, intercourse, orgasming… it’s all energy. Some is more potent than others, but just like crackers and steak are still considered...

Ivy nearly choked. “Orgy?” He chuckled, leaning in a fraction. “Don’t worry, that’s not included in our bargain.” Silas paused, tilting his head in intrigue. “Unless you want it to be,” he said, tips of his fangs glistening. “I’m sure I’d be full for weeks after watching you indulge in something like that.” Shivering, Ivy struggled to form a coherent thought. An orgy. With Silas watching. Being filled and fucked and caressed and— Another...

“What about blood?” Ivy blurted out, completely hypnotized by his gaze. Silas blinked. And blinked again. “Blood?” “You… you have fangs,” she said, wanting to smack herself in the forehead for being so dull. “I didn’t know if… that was part of…” She wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. The red in his eyes deepened to the exact shade of the thing they were discussing. “Blood is sacred, Ivy,” Si...

“I will never ask you to feed me in such a way,” he said. “That’s something only you can give. And only you can decide if I’m worthy of it.” Every centimeter of her buzzed with energy—with magic. Just the idea of Silas taking her vein lit her up from the inside like she was plugged directly into a power station. Sex and blood were two sources of magic so potent and intense most people feared using them. Most people weren’t Ivy. “I see,” she breathed, realizing she needed to respond. Eyeing her, he took several beats before inching back.

Adjusting the placement of his dinner fork, Silas forced his hunger to a low simmer. It wasn’t the meal Boris had prepared he was craving though. Lucifer save him, he couldn’t stop replaying her voice over and over in his head. “What about blood?” The question had lodged inside him like shrapnel, bringing with it a torrent of images that nearly had him dropping to his knees to beg.

It had been decades since he’d been offered such a gift. Decades since he’d taken another’s vein. Even the hint of possibility that he could drink from Ivy should she want him to… The roaring in his head was unbearable as the ghost of skin brushed against his lips, the phantom scent and taste of rich, iron laced wine coated his mouth.

Maybe if he stabbed himself in the thigh he’d be distracted enough to reign himself in for the evening.

His breath stalled as soon as she entered. Ivy had changed out of her clothing from earlier into fleece leggings and a thick ivory knit sweater that hung down past her full hips, and her curls were pushed out of her face by a velvet headband. She looked warm and comfortable—perfect for the chillier weather that night. Silas ached to pull her into his lap and really warm her up.

“Oh,” she started, gaping at the scene before her. “I… I’m sorry, I thought… I didn’t realize—” She shook her head. “I didn’t know it was just us.” Circling his end of the table, he went to the chair to his right—the one with the place setting for her—and pulled it out for her. “I asked you to have dinner with me,” he said, smiling softly. Moving closer, she said, “Well, yes, but breakfast seemed to be a family affair, so I just assumed…” “The rest of the household has plans tonight,” he said. Silas had made sure of it. He’d even bribed Edgar to take Kat and a few of the others out to the cinema and stay away for at least several hours.

Pausing by her seat, Ivy glanced up at him. “You look nice. I should’ve put on something better for you.” The only clothing I’d want you in is none, he thought, knowing his eyes were glowing red. “You’re beautiful just as you ar...

Apples, cinnamon, and woodsmoke. As if autumn poured its essence all over her skin. He wanted to bathe in her scent.

“Evening Boris, are you well?” Ivy asked. “My left foot is giving me fits, but otherwise I’m doing just fine I suppose,” he said, carefully setting the tray down. “I could help you with your foot if you’d like,” she said, already reaching to assist him in setting out the food. “One healing tincture should have you right as rain.” “I’d appreciate that very much,” he admitted. “But only if you’re able.” Ivy smiled, adjusting one of the dishes on the table. “Able and willing, love. Just give me to the morning to mix it up for you.” Watching her, Silas’ chest warmed.

Maybe it was due to her upbringing, or maybe it was just her inherent nature, but Ivy Saint James was unlike any other magical being he’d ever met before. As she settled back into her chair, she glanced at him. “Do you have an apothecary in this maze of a house? You didn’t show me one on the tour.” Silas smirked, picking up his wine. “Technically no, but I’m sure you’ll find what you need in the kitchen and pantry.” Taking a sip, he added, “If you’d prefer a Witch’s apothecary all to yourself, I can make such arrangements.” It would take one snap of his fingers and a new room would appear in the house, decked out to her exact needs and specifications.