Sacred Spite

by Nadia Heaton

  Without a second thought, he started following her.

  14

  One moment, Savion was stepping carefully over a rock. The next, he was flat on his back, staring up at the few stars visible through the branches above. His automatic reaction was to leap up, but something was pinning him down. A quick look told him that it was nothing visible. Magic.

  Movement caught his eye. Fleur stepped out from behind a tree. Savion stopped struggling, relaxing against her restraint. He knew she wouldn’t hurt him, and if she needed him to be restrained to feel comfortable, then who was he to deny her?

  Magic flowed from her fingertips, causing every muscle in his body to clench. It wasn’t exactly visible; it was more like a disturbance on the air. On anyone else, Savion would have hated it. On Fleur, the look was sexy.

  He looked up at her, glad that he, at least, seemed free to move his eyes about. Savion tried speaking, and found that his voice worked, though he still couldn’t move anything other than his jaw and tongue. “That’s not necessary. I won’t hurt you.”

  Fleur was frowning at him, as though trying to figure him out. “What are you doing here, Savion?”

  There were so many possible answers to that question. Savion didn’t even consider lying to her. There were many reasons, but he gave the one that, to him, seemed the most true in this moment. “I wanted to see you again.”

  He read surprise in her face, and she seemed to soften a little. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to spy on a coven of witches? Especially for a vampire? You could have been killed.”

  Savion gave her his best roguish grin. “Nah, you wouldn’t have let that happen. That was you with the deer, wasn’t it? You knew the spell sensed us, so you somehow caused the deer to burst through the clearing. You knew I was there the whole time.”

  “Of course I did,” Fleur snapped. “You’re lucky I was in a generous mood. Mirabelle would have broken you and your friends into tiny pieces.”

  “Why is it you can sense me, but none of the others could?”

  Fleur shrugged, blushing slightly. “I – I have more power than them. And I’m more attuned to you than they are.”

  “Attuned to me, huh?”

  “Shut up, don’t let it go to your head. It’s just because I’ve spent more time with you than the rest of the coven has. Most of them haven’t even met you.” Her eyes were twinkling, belying the abruptness of her words.

  “Nice dancing. I never realized quite how sexy coven spells were for witches.”

  Fleur gave him a small smile, completely unembarrassed. It was then that Savion realized she’d been dancing like she had on purpose, for him.

  “Well, well, I guess I’m not the only one interested in being wooed. Is there somewhere we can go, to talk?”

  Fleur’s barriers came back up at those words, distrust coloring her tone. “Why? What’s wrong with right here?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Fleur, or your coven. You know that. That’s why I submitted to the truth spell, so that you would believe me.”

  She nodded slowly, but still didn’t let him up.

  “Look, Fleur, things need to change. With so much tension between vampires and witches, it’s only a matter of time before things explode. No one wants that kind of war. It would be beneficial for both of our species to build a bridge between us. Who’s to say that bridge can’t start with you and me?”

  “That’s not why you want to talk to me.” Her eyes met his in challenge, and Savion knew he couldn’t break her trust now by lying.

  “No, that’s not the main reason, but I truly do think the world would be better off with less hatred between our kinds. Look at us, Fleur. You had me pinned in under a second. I can’t use any magic here, not since your blocking ritual. Keep me bound if you must, but don’t pretend your primary worry is for your body’s safety. Your worry is for your heart.”

  Maybe he’d gone too far, but Savion had to know. He watched carefully, and could have crowed in joy at what he saw in Fleur’s eyes. He was right. She did feel something for him, and it scared her. For a moment, she seemed to teeter on the edge of decision – probably deciding whether to take him up on his offer, or leave him frozen here until his coven found him.

  In the space of time it took to blink, they were transported to a completely different area. Savion found the spell pinning him gone, and he got up, cautiously looking around. It looked like they were at the ruins of an old, gothic church.

  Before he could do more than look around, he was on his back again. Fleur hovered above him, and Savion grinned at her. “Not that I dislike the position, but I’d be happy if there were fewer clothes involved.”

  “Shut up, Savion.” Her tone was almost fond, and he resolved to try to elicit that tone more often. “I’ve put a spell on you that will cause you to burst into flames if you try to do anything to me.”

  “Anything?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Anything harmful or unwanted,” Fleur clarified, rolling her eyes and blushing slightly.

  Savion was sure their minds were going to the same place. “That spell must require a lot of energy, and you just teleported us. You shouldn’t deplete your energy too much. You never know what happens.”

  “You sound like my dad. Don’t worry, I have reserves of power to call from. Besides, the spell doesn’t take as much energy as you think. I linked it to your sun response. Instead of calling on power of its own, the spell tricks your body into thinking you’re in the middle of a desert at an endless midday with no blood or water, then it simply speeds the process up.”

  Clever and powerful. Savion was impressed, but he did wish she would put her talents toward something more pleasant.

  “Harming you is not my intention. If your spell is secure, then would you mind letting me up? Unless you’re reconsidering the clothes, that is.”

  Fleur shoved him lightly on the chest before rising and walking several feet away. She still seemed wary of him, and Savion couldn’t tell how much of it was her genuinely fearing for her safety and how much was worrying about her reaction to getting close to him.

  “What is this place?” He gestured to the ruined church, stopping a foot away from Fleur, not wanting to startle her by stepping into her personal space, as much as he may want to.

  “It used to be a place of great power in this town. After a fire that killed almost half of the population, it was abandoned and the sources of power were moved elsewhere. This place isn’t even visible from any of the existing roads, but witches sometimes like to come here. We can feel an echo of the power. It’s kind of a rush. My sisters and I used to play here when we were young.”

  “Do you still come often?”

  “No, I haven’t been in years, neither has Lis or Tristan. When our parents married, we were encouraged to spend more time with Bethany. She never liked this place, most humans don’t – they say it gives them the creeps. They’re just feeling the residual magic, but because they can’t connect with it, it just feels wrong.”

  Savion liked that he was the first one she’d brought here in many years. It felt almost like having a place of their own, for just the two of them.

  “So, Savion, what did you want to talk about? If you’re hoping for news of your brother, you’ll have to wait on Beth for that.”

  It was tempting; she was right here, and Savion was sure he could nudge her into revealing more about Jermaine. That wasn’t why he’d come, though. He would wait for Bethany’s call, as he’d agreed to.

  “That’s not what I want, for now. Tell me about yourself, Fleur.”

  The two of them started strolling through the ruins, not quite close enough to be considered side by side.

  “If you’re looking for coven secrets, again, that’s a hard no.”

  “You’re too suspicious for your own good. Let’s start with your favorite color.”

  “Blue. Yours?”

  “Red.”

  Fleur rolled her eyes. “Figures, for a vampire.�
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  Savion let it go. “What about books?”

  “I don’t get much time to read, other than spell books. Mirabelle is training me to take over for her as coven leader someday. It’s a lot of work.”

  Their conversation was awkward and stilted at first, but as they got a feel for each other, words started flowing more freely. Savion was fascinated by Fleur, and once she let her guard down, she seemed equally interested in him.

  Savion commented on the cathedral around them. Even in ruins, it was magnificent. A good portion of the stained glass had survived. They stepped through an arched doorway, into what must have been the main service area. The ashy remains of huge cross stood out in the front of the room.

  The conversation slowly turned back to more serious matters. “How long will the spell last around the village?”

  “A week, but Mirabelle may make us renew it if you guys haven’t cleared out by then. I told her it’s not necessary, but she wants to be on the safe side.”

  “It’s not my intention to cause you or your coven trouble, Fleur. I just came for my brother.”

  “I know. I believe you. It’s not that easy to put aside hundreds of years of conditioning, though. Witches and vampires have hated each other for so long, we don’t know any other way.”

  Savion pulled her to a stop with a gentle hand at her elbow, forcing her to look at him. “I can’t imagine ever hating you.”

  His voice was soft, and they were close, close enough that he could feel Fleur’s breath on his cheek. “Perhaps the two of us should change the fates for our people.”

  He inched closer, and Fleur didn’t pull away. Her eyes were bright, and she leaned ever so slightly closer to him.

  Savion took her face in his hands and kissed her.

  15

  Colorful lights exploded in Fleur’s mind. The feeling of Savion’s lips on hers was indescribable. Fleur had teased Lisette for falling in love so quickly and easily, but if it felt like this? Fleur would never tease her again.

  Her lips parted without her permission, and Savion leaned into the kiss, pulling her close with a hand on the small of her back. The insanity of her position – in a sacred place, kissing a vampire – was completely lost on Fleur as she reacted to his touch.

  Savion’s tongue invaded her mouth, and she accepted him eagerly. It was a dance between them, all slick moving tongues and lips, with breath snatched haphazardly between. She realized that she was no longer supporting her own weight; she’d fallen completely into Savion. He moved his arms to her waist, holding her up easily.

  Fleur froze for a moment when he tugged at the bottom of her shirt. Savion stopped kissing her and moved back enough that he could meet her eyes, his gaze questioning. Something in those eyes told Fleur that with him, it was ok to fall. He would catch her.

  She gave him a small nod, and Savion wasted no time in taking her top off. Her bra followed, and his shirt went quickly after that. Savion laid his jacket out on the ground and balled up his shirt to form a makeshift pillow.

  It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for Fleur. She allowed him to lay her down, ignoring the lumpy ground underneath her body. Nothing mattered but Savion’s hands, which were running up and down her sides, moving tantalizingly closer to more sensitive areas.

  She didn’t hesitate when he started taking her pants off, lifting her hips eagerly to help. They kept kissing, their lips only parting for seconds at most. When Savion’s pants came off, Fleur hesitated, watching him with some trepidation. She’d never done this before. Did she trust Savion?

  He seemed to read her fear, and stroked her face tenderly. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want, Fleur. Just say the word, and we’ll stop, no matter what.”

  As she looked into Savion’s eyes, Fleur found she believed him. “I haven’t done this before,” she admitted.

  Savion pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. “Don’t worry, I have. I’ll take care of you. Just lie back.”

  Fleur did, trembling slightly, but sure that this was what she wanted. Savion went slowly, worshipping her body. She touched him everywhere, and he welcomed all of her touches. By the time he finally spread her legs and moved atop her, Fleur was so far gone in lust that she barely felt the pain.

  Any trace of it swiftly morphed to mind blowing pleasure. She and Savion moved together, and in that moment, there were no witches, no vampires, no ageless conflict. There was just Fleur and Savion, the man and the woman. That was all that mattered.

  They caught their breath with Fleur lying mostly atop Savion. He insisted he barely felt the bumpy ground, and she had to admit, he was a much more comfortable mattress than a jacket and a rolled-up shirt.

  As the high of the experience started to wear off, doubt crept into Fleur’s mind. What had she just done? She’d made love to a vampire! What would her sisters say? What would Mirabelle say? She wouldn’t be surprised if her aunt struck her from the coven.

  Lisette and Tristan would be so disappointed in her. They may have grudgingly accepted Bethany’s relationship with Jermaine, but Beth was human. For Fleur to sleep with a vampire… she could think of no worse act, nothing more likely to bring condemnation down on her from all sides.

  Was she insane? How had she given in to her lust like that? If Fleur was being honest, it had been more than lust. She had feelings for Savion that went past just the physical, though the physical certainly was powerful. She didn’t want to face that truth right now, so she pushed the thought aside.

  “Fleur? What’s wrong? You’re tensing up like you’re about to be thrown into a fight.”

  Instead of answering, Fleur extracted herself from Savion’s arms and started getting dressed without looking at him. She dressed as slowly as she could, postponing the moment she’d have to face him. Shame was rapidly welling up inside her. Vampires were the mortal enemies of witches, and she’d just slept with one.

  Fleur finally laced up her boots and turned to Savion, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, Savion, but this was a mistake. If you go north from here, you’ll find a path that leads you back to town. I have to go.”

  She turned to leave, but Savion caught her arm. Fleur grimaced, sure he was about to demand an explanation for her sudden change in behavior. His next words surprised her. “Where is my brother, Fleur?”

  Fleur hesitated. She couldn’t tell him, but she also couldn’t leave him fearing for his brother’s life. It wasn’t right. “Jermaine is safe, you have my word. He will return to you when he’s ready.”

  She pulled her arm out of his grip, and Savion let her go. Fleur didn’t look back as she fled the scene. She debated whether to teleport herself home, but she was so frazzled that she didn’t think she could risk it. Teleportation spells could go badly wrong if they were attempted without the proper focus and concentration.

  Right now, it was all she could do to focus on the ground at her feet. Fleur stumbled a few times, but she eventually found the path. She glanced over her shoulder, knowing that Savion could easily run her down if he chose to. Had she the breath, she would have sighed in relief to find that he’d decided to let her go.

  Her panicked flight turned to a steady jog, then to a shaky walk. Fleur kept glancing over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure whether the twist in her stomach every time she saw a Savion-free path was relief or hurt. Some part of her wished he’d chase after her, that he’d fight for her.

  The larger, more sensible part of her wanted to get as far away from him as she possibly could. She’d made a horrible mistake, and she couldn’t take it back, but she could do her best to make up for it by staying away from him from now on.

  She’d talk to Jermaine and tell him to go to his brother and make him stop bothering her coven. It wouldn’t take much to convince her parents to make it a condition of Jermaine’s continued stay with them that he make sure his coven didn’t poke their noses into witch business. This was dangerous enough, without having two opposing covens so close together.<
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  Why was she crying? Fleur swiped impatiently at the tears running down her cheeks. Surely, she’d messed up worse than this before?

  No, she really hadn’t. Would her sisters ever forgive her? In truth, it wasn’t their forgiveness Fleur was the most worried about. What worried her was the small part of her heart that longed to turn around and run back into Savion’s arms.

  A bigger part of Fleur wished that he would run after her, pull her into him and never let her go. She wanted him to whisper sweet things in her ear and soothe her fears about what this meant.

  She wished more than anything that she wasn’t a witch and he wasn’t a vampire.

  Fleur had never wished her powers away before. She’d always been grateful for them, taking them as the gift.. Never had they felt so much like a curse. She broke into a run again, trying to run from her own thoughts and emotions.

  She was headed home. Fleur imagined confessing what had happened to Lisette, and her step faltered.

  Lisette wasn’t who she wanted to talk to. She wanted to speak to Bethany. Surely, of all of her sisters, Bethany was the one who might understand what Fleur was going through. She could confess what she did to her coven another time. Now, she just needed someone who might be able to help her sort out the mess inside her own head.

  16

  Savion stood frozen, watching Fleur’s hair flow out behind her as she ran. What was wrong with him? He’d turned her back in her moment of panic, and instead of taking her into his arms and assuring her that everything would be ok, he’d demanded information about his brother!

  Jermaine was important, but Savion was convinced that he was safe for now. It was Fleur who had needed his comfort, not him interrogating her like he’d only slept with her to get information. If she thought that, it was entirely his fault, and it was entirely untrue. Jermaine had been the last thing on his mind when he’d made love to her.

  Savion took three steps in her direction before stumbling to a halt. He knew he could easily run her down, unless she decided to teleport herself. He could still hear her footsteps, though, so she hadn’t teleported yet.