Crush (Crave)

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In true Crave series fashion, Crush is full of delicious twists and turns that will leave you yearning for more, especially when it comes to the ending. I only just finished Crush and am already dying to sink my teeth into the next installment. (It’s a good thing Covet, the third book, is supposedly only six months away!) Maybe we can do it this weekend?” “Yeah, sure. Just let me know what works for you.” “Great, thanks. And I’m sure I’ll want to take you up on the flying lessons.” I mean, I still can’t believe that I can fly. Me. Under my own power. Because I’m a gargoyle, I mean. When the whole “I have wings” thing came up earlier, the implication of being able to fly was there. But to think about it, to imagine Flint giving me lessons on how not to die while doing it… It’s more than a little overwhelming. Instead, I focus on something else. Giving the idea time to settle can’t be a bad thing. “But speaking of flying, I actually had a different question,” I say to Flint. He turns amused eyes my way. “Yes?” “You mentioned pixies. How many other species are out there? Are there a lot of other creatures that aren’t at Katmere, ones that I don’t even know exist?” “Definitely.” He grins. “More than you could ever imagine.” “Oh.” I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with that. My surprise must show, because Flint lifts a brow at me. “Was that not the answer you were looking for?” “I don’t know—I just… What other kinds of creatures are there? And why aren’t they at Katmere?” “Because Katmere’s teachers specialize in dragons, werewolves, vampires, and witches,” Flint tells me. “There are other schools out there that specialize in other magical creatures.” I’m Going to Wash That Psychopath Right Out of My Hair The Bloodletter assesses me for several seconds before she answers. “Every single paranormal finds a different way to build a shield inside them. They do what feels natural—what feels right—to them as they explore and grow into their powers. “At a different time, that’s how you would learn to build your wall. As a shield to keep your powers from adversely affecting the people around you.” “But I don’t have any powers,” I tell her, more than a little confused. “I mean, except the ability to turn to stone. I’m still skeptical on the flying part.” She smiles a little at that and shakes her head. “You have more power than you know, Grace. You just have to find it.” I have no idea what that means, but at this point, I’m willing to try anything. Especially if it means Hudson can’t hurt Jaxon again—or anyone else. “Is that how I build the wall or the shield or whatever you want to call it? By channeling my power?” “Not this time. Because you’re not trying to keep your powers in. You’re trying to separate yourself and your powers from Hudson and his powers. So while we would normally be talking about a shield, right now, we have to talk about a But I can’t just lie here all night letting the gargoyle thing, the memory thing, and the mating thing all run through my head on a continuous loop. I’d watch TV, but I don’t want to disturb Macy. It’s late, close to two in the morning, and she has a midterm tomorrow. Which means I need to get out of here. I roll off the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible, then grab a hoodie from my closet—the castle can be cold and drafty at night. Next, I slip on my favorite pair of daisypatterned Vans and tiptoe to the door as quietly as I possibly can. I have a moment’s hesitation when I go to pull open the door—the last time I wandered the castle alone in the middle of the night, I nearly got tossed outside in the snow. I definitely do not want that to happen again. Mate or no mate, I can’t go around expecting Jaxon to rescue me whenever I get into trouble. Not that I imagine he’ll be all that thrilled to rescue me anyway tonight. Especially since I canceled my plans to meet up with him, claiming exhaustion. But things are different now than they were four months ago. No one’s got any reason to try to kill me, for one. And for another, even if they wanted to, no one would ever deliberately go after Jaxon Vega’s mate. Especially not after Jaxon nearly drained Cole for trying to drop a chandelier on me. Plus, I’m a gargoyle now. If someone tries to hurt me, I can always just turn to stone. As exciting as that sounds. Of course, I have absolutely no idea how to do that. But that’s a problem for another day, already filed away. Keep Your Enemies Close, Unless They Bleed a Lot Jaxon turns to me and frowns. “What are you doing here, Grace? I told you where I was so you wouldn’t worry. I’ve got this.” “No, you don’t.” I shake my head and try to figure out how to explain how I woke up this morning. “Sure I do.” For the first time, he looks uncertain. “I didn’t have anything to do with Cole, and Foster knows it.” “I know you didn’t hurt Cole.” I take a deep breath. “I know you didn’t, because I’m pretty sure I did.” For long seconds, neither Jaxon nor my uncle says anything. They just kind of stare at me like they’re replaying my words in their heads over and over again, trying to make sense of them. But the longer they’re silent, the more confused they look—and the tenser I get. Which is why, in the end, I don’t wait for them to say anything. Instead I pour out the whole story, starting with the trip to the art cottage and ending with my blood-soaked clothes, which I pull out of my bag and hand to Uncle Finn. He doesn’t look excited about taking them, but then, who would? Especially when I just dumped a problem of massive proportions right onto his sturdy wooden desk. “Are you okay?” Jaxon asks the second I finally stop

Crush: Crave, Book 2 Book Review | Common Sense Media

really, really bad. But if seeing this Bloodletter person will help get Hudson out of my head, and maybe even give me a glimpse into Jaxon’s childhood, then I’m all in. “How long does it take to get there?” I ask. “And when do we leave?” “A few hours,” Jaxon replies. “And we can leave now if you want.” “Now?” Uncle Finn asks, sounding less than impressed. “Why don’t you at least wait until morning, when it’s light out?” “And give Hudson another chance to try to body snatch me again?” I ask, and I don’t even have to pretend to be traumatized at the thought. “I’d rather not.” Not to mention, I’m too freaked out to sleep tonight—and maybe ever again. The fact that Hudson is inside me is terrifying and gross and weird. Can he read my thoughts, too? Like, is he in my head right now, hearing everything I’m thinking? Or are his talents limited to just taking over my body? Just. Give me a break. How did my life get to this? Five months ago, I was in San Diego, and my biggest decision was where I was going to go to college. Now, I still have to decide that—or at least I think I do (do gargoyles even go to college?)—plus deal with evil alpha werewolves trying to take me down and psychopathic vampires living in my head. If it wasn’t for Jaxon, I’d be pretty positive that I’ve traded down…way, way down.

Oh.” She gives me a weird look. “I didn’t realize you and Hudson…” “What?” I ask when she trails off, looking awkward. She clears her throat the way she always does when she’s nervous. Then says, “I guess I just didn’t realize you and Hudson had gotten so� There goes my mind, blowing up all over again. “Like…?” “Like in Hawaii, there’s a school that specializes in water shifters.” “Water shifters?” I repeat. “Yes,” Flint answers with a laugh. He must know what I’m thinking, because he adds, “Mermaids are real. So are selkies and nereids and sirens, among other things.” “Seriously?” I ask. “Seriously.” He shakes his head in obvious amusement. “You look dazzled.” “I feel dazzled.” “Vegas has Ceralean,” Hudson adds from near my head. “It’s a school for succubi, among others.” Out of all the mythological creatures, that’s what you come at me with? I give an exaggerated eye roll. A creature known for its sexual appetites? “Hey, I was just adding to your knowledge base.” The look he gives me is so innocent that I’m amazed he doesn’t have a halo sparkling…right around his feet. “You’re the one who asked.” I don’t even bother to say anything this time. I just roll my eyes again…at least until I realize Flint is staring at me like he suddenly thinks something is really wrong with me. I’m proven right when he asks, “Umm, do you have something in your eye?” “Yeah, I just got some dirt in there or something.” I rub my eye. “All better.” On the other hand, the reason for that is a very, very good one. One that I don’t want to go into too much detail with here (because you’ll enjoy it more if you go in completely blind), but that I very much enjoyed and am glad we got almost a full book of. (And once you’ve read Crush and know what I’m talking about, please tweet me so that we can yell about it together.) a few.” “You mean they aren’t all the same?” I ask, a little surprised by the idea that wings are so different at the core. I guess I thought it was like anything else—hair, eyes, skin. They’re available in different colors, but when it comes down to important things, they’re the same. They’re all made up of the same biological matter and they all function the same way. The idea that wings aren’t like that is surprisingly fascinating. Then again, judging by the look on Flint’s face, he’s even more surprised that I assumed they are. “Of course they’re different,” he says. “Dragon wings have to support a creature that weighs thousands of pounds. Pixie wings support creatures who can fit in the palm of your hand. And it’s not just about size—we fly completely differently, too.” “What do you mean? Isn’t flying flying?” “Not even a little bit. Pixies can hover over whatever they want for long periods of time. Dragons’ wings are built for speed and distance, while pixies’ wings are built for easy maneuverability. Because pixies are so much smaller and slower—even though their wings flap faster—they can change direction on a dime, while it takes us time to slow down enough to bank hard left or right.” “So,” I say as we turn down a fairly empty hallway. “I have a question.” “Will I help you learn to fly? Of course I will. It’ll be so much fun.” Flint grins. “Plus, we still have those pictures for Mr. Damasen to finish.” “Oh, right. I’m sorry; I totally blanked on that.” I roll my eyes at myself. “Too much going on in my head, I guess.

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Oh my God. Are you high?” I ask. “I’m inside your head, Grace. If I were high, wouldn’t that mean you are, too?” I Think I Had Amnesia Once… or Twice “Come on, Grace, wake up. You’re going to miss breakfast if you don’t get up soon.” “Sleepy,” I mumble as I roll onto my stomach and away from Macy’s annoyingly cheerful voice. “I know you’re sleepy, but you have to get up. Class starts in forty minutes and you haven’t even had a shower yet.” “No shower.” I grab my comforter and pull it over my head, making sure to keep my eyes closed so I won’t be blinded by the hot-pink fabric. Or give Macy the idea that I’m actually awake. Because I very definitely am not. “Graaaaaace,” she whines, tugging on the comforter as hard as she can. But I’ve got a death grip on the thing, and I’m not about to let it go anytime soon. “You promised Jaxon we’d meet him in the dining hall in five minutes. You have to get up.” It’s the mention of Jaxon that eventually breaks through my dazed stupor and allows Macy to pull my comforter down. Cold air rushes against my face, and I make a half-hearted grab for the covers, still without opening my eyes. Macy laughs. “I feel like our roles are suddenly reversed here. I’m the one who’s supposed to be hard to get out of bed.” I make another lunge for the comforter and this time end briefest moment, I see something there that makes me catch my breath. And also wonder if I’m imagining it. “Yes?” He circles his finger again, and the music switches from Flo Rida to the opening lyrics of Walk the Moon’s “Shut Up and Dance.” And it’s so clever, so ridiculous, so Hudson, that I can’t help bursting into laughter. Right before I decide, screw it, and let him dance me from one end of the laundry room to the other. When the song finally comes to an end, Hudson lets me go, and we both stand there grinning at each other. As we do, I can’t help but wonder what someone would think if they’d walked into the laundry room a few seconds ago and found me dancing around the machines by myself, singing to a song only I can hear. Probably that it’s just another weird human thing…or an even weirder gargoyle thing… which I guess it is, now that I think about it. Still, I’m a little hot, a little breathless, but a lot more relaxed than I was when I got to the laundry room, and maybe that’s why I finally ask him, “How did you know I love that song?” And just that easily, his smile fades away, leaving nothing there but an emptiness so stark that I feel it deep in my chest. Even before he answers, “So you really remember nothing of the time we spent together?” You already started,” the Bloodletter tells me, “before I put you to sleep. You started laying the groundwork instinctively.” “But how did I do that? How do I build this mythical, mystical wall? And what makes you think I’ve already started?” I ask, more confused than ever. “I knew you’d started the minute you began hearing Hudson’s voice. Because he didn’t talk to you when he was free to take control of you. It’s only after you started to impede that freedom that he had something to say.” “That’s not true!” Hudson throws his hands up. “I’ve been trying to get your attention all along. You just couldn’t listen until Yoda here taught you how to make an illusion real.” “Wait a minute.” I turn to the Bloodletter in horror. “You mean I’ll still be able to hear him, even after I wall him up?” Just the idea turns my stomach. “I thought the whole point was to get rid of him.” “The whole point is to make sure he can’t take you over anymore. The wall will prevent that, at least for a while. But now that he’s figured out how to get your attention…” She shakes her head. “I don’t think we’ll be able to do anything about that.” Jaxon balls his fists at this statement, but he doesn’t say a word.Everything feels off—especially me. I’ve returned to Katmere Academy, but I’m haunted by fragments of days I have no recollection of living and struggling to understand who, or what, I really am. comfortable chair in existence…and finally reach for a book. I just hope it has some of the answers I need.And I wouldn’t mind a good memory retrieval spell, too… I do remember,” I snap. “And if I didn’t, God knows it would only take a minute with you to figure it out.” “Exactly.” He looks me over with that cold smile of his that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “Now, are you going to do something, or are we just going to stand around here all night while you feel sorry for yourself?” Those words piss me off more than any others he might have used, and I have to force myself not to scream when I answer, “I’m not feeling sorry for myself!” He looks me over from head to toe and says, “Okay.” That’s it. Just a simple okay—and somehow he has me seeing red. “What do I need to do?” I grit my teeth, hating having to ask him. But pride is one thing. Naïveté is another. “What do I have to do to shift?” “You’ve already got the answer to that.” “Yeah, but I can’t remember the answer! So will you please help me out instead of just standing there voicing platitudes in my head?” I throw my hands wide in the air. For long seconds, he looks torn. Like he doesn’t know how much to say. But eventually his need to get the hell out of my head must supersede everything else, because he says, “You told me once that being a gargoyle was the most natural thing in the world for you. Like, you couldn’t imagine how you’d spent seventeen years of your life not feeling it, because it felt like home.” I roll his words around in my mind, weighing them against everything that I’m feeling now, and they make no sense. “I really said that?” That completely changes in this novel. Grace is constantly asserting her independence and strength throughout Crush, prompting discussions of agency at almost every turn and with every new plotline. The Circle is caught in a power play and the Vampire Court is trying to drag me out of my world and into theirs. The only thing Hudson and Jaxon agree on is that leaving Katmere would mean my certain death.

Crush by Tracy Wolff - Audiobook | Scribd Crush by Tracy Wolff - Audiobook | Scribd

If you loved Crave, you will be infatuated by Crush. I didn’t think it was possible to love this story and these characters any more than I already did, but this book proved me so horribly wrong. Consider me the Crave series’ #1 fan. (Seriously.)Don’t do it, Grace,” Hudson tells me. “You can’t trust her.” Maybe not, but I can’t trust you, either, so I’m going to go with the person who can help me the most. “This is not how things were supposed to happen.” He shakes his head. “Why won’t you trust me?” Maybe because you’re a raging psychopath, and I am tired of doing your bidding. I turn to the Bloodletter. “I’m ready. Show me how to build the wall.” Enough,” I manage to wheeze out between coughs. “Is it enough?” the Bloodletter asks in a voice as cold as the Alaskan wilderness she has made her home. “Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?” No, I don’t. Not even a little bit. But I’m afraid if I tell her that, I’m going to end up buried under a thousand pounds of sand, so I just nod. But I do try to focus, not just on what she’s saying but on the deeper meaning of what she wants me to understand. Her gaze holds mine, her green eyes urging me to think beyond my simple understanding of the world. To recognize that some things have to be believed to be understood instead of the other way around. It’s a leap of faith, one I’m not sure I’m comfortable making after everything that’s already happened. But what other choice do I have? I can believe or I can get swept away —not just by the sand she is continuing to blow my way but by Hudson’s dark and overwhelming will. I swallow, knowing there really is no other option for me. And so I close my eyes, lower my defenses just a little, and let her words swirl in my mind, settle in my bones, become my reality. The moment I do, the illusion of this world fades into something that feels even more right. Something that feels like coming home. Suddenly, there’s another voice in my head, and it’s not the one I’m used to, the one that warns me of bad things to come. No, this voice is low and sardonic. It’s also familiar—really familiar. Obviously.” I don’t mean to sound snarky; I really don’t. I know he just wants to help. But what am I supposed to do here? I can’t just go around assaulting people. The whole Idon’t-remember thing is going to get old fast. God knows it’s already old for me. Macy steps between us. “So what do we do, Dad? How do we stop this from happening again?” I wrap my arms around my waist and hold on tight. “You’re not going to call the police, are you? I didn’t mean to hurt him. Honestly, I still can’t figure out how I did hurt him. He’s—” “No one’s calling the police, Grace,” Jaxon tells me firmly. “That’s not how we handle things here. And even if we did, you can’t be held responsible for something you did when you weren’t aware. Right, Foster?” “Of course. I mean, we’re going to have to watch you, make sure this doesn’t happen again. You can’t go around assaulting other students.” “Even if they deserve it,” Macy interjects. “I know it’s wrong, but after everything Cole did to you last semester, I’m having a hard time feeling sympathy for the guy.” Jaxon snorts. “I should have killed him when I had the shot. Then this never would have happened.” “No, you shouldn’t have,” I scold him. “That’s a horrible thing to say.” “Horrible,” Macy agrees, “but also a little bit true.” I shoot her a what-the-hell look, but she just kind of shrugs, as if to say, What did you expect?