“Do you need us to come get you?”
“No.” Rachel cradled the cell phone between her ear and shoulder as she made her way back to the puddle on the floor.
Katie stepped on the trashcan peddle and the lid popped up. Glass tinkled as she dumped the mess. The lid slammed down and Rachel jumped, the two women giving each other sullen, sulky glares. Rachel bit her tongue rather than say anything unkind, and went back to soaking up the tea with the mop.
“Let me get cleaned up here and we’ll be there in an hour.”
“Are you sure?” Wolf’s concern brought a lump to Rachel’s throat.
“Yes, but thank you,.” She licked her lips. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” Rachel heard Loti’s murmur in the background.
“And Loti says to tell you she loves you.”
Rachel swallowed the sob that threatened. “I love her, too.”
She pushed the end call button and laid the cell phone on the kitchen table. Rachel let the first tear fall while Katie brushed the last bits of broken glass into the dustpan.
* * *
Christian paced the condo, glancing at his watch now and again. He stopped by the living room window and stared out into the evening, wondering when he had crossed the line. Pedestrians weaved their way through the bricked walking mall. The whir of traffic and the rustle of wind in the leaves insisted that all was normal. But all would never be normal again, Christian realized.
When was the last time anything about his existence had been normal? Certainly not his childhood. He was raised by a banker baron and then motherless at just nine years old. Christian inhaled jasmine and vanilla as footsteps only his vampire ears could hear made their way up the three flights of stairs. The key slid in the lock and the tumblers clicked inside the front doorknob.
He blew out a breath as the door swung open. Heather smiled as she caught sight of him and tossed her keys in the wooden bowl. Frowning despite his resolve to maintain a calm demeanor, he silently cursed himself as her smile wilted under his glare. She hesitated as she set her purse on the table.
“What?” She pressed her hands into the small of her back and swallowed.
Christian faltered, his eyes bouncing around the room as he practiced creating the space for his feelings to breathe. That’s what he and Calisto worked on last time they met: letting his feelings breathe. At the time, he was more than dubious, but with Calisto’s guidance, he was beginning to understand what the old hippie meant. When he felt the frustration ebb, his eyes settled on her face, and he realized she was holding her breath.
“You haven’t done anything. It’s me.”
“Okay.” Heather drew the word out with a watchful gaze.
“It’s what I have to do.”
His hands clenched and unclenched, as he tried for the millionth time to come up with a way for them both to escape, but there was no way out for him. The least he could do was find a way to save her, and he thought there might be one way, if the things Calisto had told him were indeed true.
“What do you have to do?” Heather’s words were cautious as she inched her way closer to him.
“First, I need to talk to Calisto.”
The tension eased a bit from Heather’s features. “Oh. Okay. That sounds good.”
Christian grabbed her to him when she was close enough and spoke with an uncharacteristic hitch to his voice.
“I’m sorry, darling. I’m going to make this right. I promise.”
Heather couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t complain about the fierce protectiveness of his embrace, instead she buried her face in his neck.
“I know you are, love.”
He pressed his cheek to hers and squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know how, but I am.”
He pulled back and held her face in his hands. She gasped a breath, her ribs aching. His mouth on hers was desperate and hungry when he swept her up in his arms and tossed her on the couch.
“Do we have time for this?” Her voice was breathy as she braced herself.
He stopped cold, a worried frown appearing. “You’re right. You’re right.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her up. “We have to go. Let’s go.”
Christian ran a hand through his hair and paced the room. Heather’s face pinched in worry as his eyes darted around the room. There wasn’t anywhere safe, not even his own home, when it came to Modore.
“Of course. Let’s just go.”
She reached for her purse and Christian grabbed her from behind, overcome with the sudden terrifying thought that this could be his last moments with her as his own. When had he lost control of himself so thoroughly, he thought as his driving need forced all other thoughts from his head.
“I want you. Now. Now, Heather.” His voice and hands were gruff as he spun her around and tugged her t-shirt up and ripped off her bra.
“Now?” She caught her breath as he fell to his knees and buried his face in the soft flesh of her belly.
“Yes.”
Her hands floated above his head, unsure for a second, and then they sank into his hair and he moaned. He kissed her navel and down, unbuttoning her jeans, peeling them down her dancer’s thighs. Her shoes disappeared and she stepped out of the pants. Christian ran his hands up her thighs and she caught her breath as he slid his fingers under the lace edging of her panties.
“You’re mine,” he whispered.
“I’m yours,” she whispered back as he slipped the silky panties down, his fingers brushing along her inner thighs.
Her eyes closed and she gasped as his fingers slid over her slippery softness, but it wasn’t enough. There wasn’t enough time for everything he craved at that moment, but he wouldn’t waste the time they had.
Standing, he cradled her in his arms wondering at how something so weightless and insubstantial could have such power over him. Modore’s iron grip on his existence made sense; the vampire was a dense, immutable force, but she was a frothy wisp of life.
Lying her down on the couch, he lowered one knee at a time, trying to etch every detail of her body in his memory. She braced her feet on the coffee table and her head fell back as he touched her, tasted her, and worked his magic on her. He savored the way her breath turned shallow as her flesh tightened and warmed at his touch, her hips jerking in needy spasms.
“Christian,” she cried out as her back arched and she shuddered her release.
“Yes, my love,” he growled in satisfaction.
Holding her hips in an iron grip, he laved her over and over until she lay limp in his hands, her arm over her eyes as her glistening chest rose and fell. He looked up the length of her, the hard pulse of his own arousal demanding satisfaction.
She sat up, eyes hazy and full of something he never knew he needed. Her deft fingers undid all the little buttons on his tailored shirt as he wondered at the lightness of being, the pure ecstasy at her touch. When the clothes were gone, he glided his stomach across her hot flesh, easing inside of her.
His body insisted he take her fast and hard, but he resisted as he stared down at her parted lips and pale blue eyes gazing up at him from under heavy lashes. He kissed her face, her eyelids.
His hands cupped her face like she was an exquisite treasure he’d discovered in a secret place, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. As they stared at each other, a tear welled in the corner of her eye. His throat tightened.
When had their love making ever brought tears to her eyes? Heather clutched him and hid her face in his neck and he stroked her hair, all worries forgotten as he relished the way she clung to him. He made love to her in slow strokes and urgent thrusts, and she matched his unconscious rhythm, her body thrumming beneath him.
“Yes, my love,” Christian murmured in her ear at her sweet and final cry, and bit her hard and deep in the neck.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she babbled.
He rode a wave of pure endorphins, crashing into her with one clear thought in his intoxicated mind. My Heather. My home. M
y love. He whispered, “Heather” as his release shattered through him, and they shuddered together for a long moment. Christian lifted his head from her neck and pressed his lips to her ear.
“I love you, my bonnie Heather,” he whispered.
Heather froze. He had never said it before, not like this. Not so direct. He had hinted at it, but never said the words, because he hadn’t allowed himself to even think it. She laughed softly and something seized his dead, unbeating heart; squeezed it too tight, and then let it go just as suddenly.
“My love, my Christian,” she kissed his temple, “I love you, too.”
He smiled into her ear, relief rushing through him. Pushing back, he held her face in his hands as they stared at each other, his eyes bright with hope. Their love drenched him like a warm downpour, and he felt right for the first time in his entire life—or death—since his mother died. Christian had been utterly alone in the world with no idea what was missing, until now.
He was home.
In the next instant, the cold reality of their situation tore through him like a razor blade and he collapsed on her chest.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Loti paced Calisto and Margarite’s living room while Wolf and Calisto talked.
“Aeval. The fae queen? Really.” Calisto tucked a hand into an armpit, while the other cradled his chin, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the mantel clock. “And you said it was her granddaughter that brought you there?”
“Yes, Asparas. She’s also the one that spirited away Loti’s father.”
Calisto nodded without changing his expression or position. Margarite swept into the room with a tea pot swaddled in a green dishtowel. Fiamette followed her with a tray of cups and tea accoutrements. She scowled at nothing in particular as she set the tray down with a rattle. Margarite glanced at her and Fiamette lifted the corner of her mouth.
“Sorry.” She examined her red nails.
“Nothing to apologize for, my dear.” Margarite poured a cup of tea and held it out to Loti.
Loti paused pacing to stare at the steaming cup. “I don’t want any.”
“Yes, you do.” Margarite stared back at her with her ever-patient smile.
Loti looked from the cup to Margarite’s face, then up at Fiamette, who shrugged and poured her own cup of tea.
“It’s jasmine.” Margarite waved the steam at Loti, “Your favorite.”
Loti sighed. “I’m not a child, Margarite.” But she took the cup anyway.
“I know, dear.” Margarite busied herself pouring more tea.
A pounding came from the front door and they all stopped and glanced around at each other.
“Do you think Rachel and Katie could be here by now?” Loti sloshed tea as she trotted through the kitchen.
Wolf glanced at the mantel clock. “Not unless they teleported.”
He set his mug on the mantel and followed Loti; Margarite and Calisto right behind him. She threw open the door without asking who it was and Calisto and Wolf braced themselves. Loti stepped back glancing around for Calisto when she didn’t recognize the couple standing on the porch.
“Christian!” Margarite slipped between Loti and Wolf and hugged the blonde man.
Vampire, Loti thought instantly and with trepidation.
The redhead must be Heather. Wolf scowled at the vampire.
“Heather, darling, please come in.” Calisto hauled the pretty little thing into the foyer by the arm and embraced her.
Loti and Wolf stood back, arms crossed over their chests, eerily similar expressions on their faces.
“Wolf, Loti, this is Heather MacGregor, the newest member of Katie’s coven.” Calisto held her hand with one hand while he patted it with the other.
“And this is Christian Harris, her partner.” Margarite’s smile was generous and Loti softened a bit. If Margarite felt safe with them, then they must be okay.
“Good to finally meet you.” Loti reached for Heather’s hand and the woman smiled, but looked to Christian as if for confirmation, who nodded.
“Thank you. I’ve heard such wonderful things about you,” she peeked around Loti at Wolf. “And about Uncle Wolf, too.”
A smile flickered on Wolf’s face. He blinked and then the armor dissolved. “It’s good to meet you.” He extended his hand to Heather and her small one disappeared in his.
“And Christian.” When Wolf turned to the vampire, his armor resurfaced. “I’ve heard mostly good things about you.”
Christian studied Wolf as he offered his hand. “Same here.” His terse reply didn’t seem to phase Wolf, who shook his hand hard. Christian showed teeth when he smiled. Wolf smiled harder.
“Okay, you two. That’s enough.” Margarite shook her head as she led Heather by the hand into the kitchen.
“You have to learn to trust us.” She glanced over her shoulder at Wolf. “It’s insulting.”
Calisto grinned after her, then regarded the two vampires taking each other in. “Oh, come now. It’s all right. Both of you.”
“If they say it’s okay…” Loti put a hand on his arm and he shifted, his eyes darting towards her. Christian blinked, becoming unnaturally still, his eyes narrowing at Loti.
“You’re the Light Walker.” It was a statement, not a question and Loti caught the something in his tone that had Wolf stepping between them.
“Wolf.” Loti kept her hand on his arm, but didn’t stop him.
“I’m pleased to meet you.” Christian’s smile felt genuine to Loti, but as she stepped forward to clasp his proffered hand, she concentrated, seeing if she could pick up on his emotions the way she had Lily’s. Before she could make sense of the influx of feelings, their hands clinched and a jolt went straight to her bones. She and Christian shook violently and Wolf grabbed Christian’s arm.
“Let her go,” he growled.
Christian’s eyes widened. “I’m trying.” And he was—tugging uselessly at his hand.
“He’s been spelled.” Calisto appeared beside them. He laid a hand over theirs and closed his eyes. “Margarite,” he called, but she was already there with Heather.
Heather reached for Christian.
“Don’t touch me,” he barked. Heather hesitated, her hand floating mid-air.
“What do you feel, Loti?” Margarite put her hands on Loti’s shoulders.
Loti’s eyes rolled back in her head. Her teeth clattered, her head flopping like she was having a seizure. Her legs collapsed under her, and Wolf caught her as she fell.
“Margarite, let go.” Calisto wrenched her away, both of them stumbling back.
“Christian!” Heather clamped a hand around his arm as he too began to convulse.
“Let go, Heather.” His words came in broken chunks through chattering teeth, but she shook her head and Christian hissed in fury.
Wolf yanked Loti away from Christian, but it was as if their hands were melded together. Wolf tried to dig his fingers between their grasp, but couldn’t create the space to separate their hands. Darkness descended over the four of them, like someone dimming the lights until the house and the people were enveloped in a suffocating blackness. Cold chills ran up Wolf’s spine as he lost the sense of Loti’s presence. He fumbled for a better grip on her, thankful she was still in his arms.
Loti.
I’m here.
This is some sort of spell.
A trap, actually.
Wolf felt her body quivering in his arms, but her presence, her energy was faint. Then they were falling fast in a wind tunnel devoid of light and sound.
I’m picturing Calisto’s and reaching for it like I do in the nadis, but nothing’s happening
Then they slammed into the bottom.
* * *
When Wolf came to, he was dizzy and his head throbbed. He groped around in the pitch black for Loti. Their metaphysical connection was a slight buzz in his chest, a meager thing compared to the satisfying weight of her presence he was used to. What was cutting him off from her, again? It remi
nded him of when he woke up just a couple of days ago without her by his side. He touched something warm and pliable. It moaned.
“Loti?” When he put his hands on her and closed his eyes, he could see in her special way, his own face drawn by his life force.
“Loti?” He shook her gently and tried to sit her up, but he was disoriented by the viewpoint. Opening his eyes, he could barely make out the shape of her face against the blackness.
“Say something, Loti.” His hand fumbled in the dark until his fingers grazed her face.
“Where are we?” Her voice rasped. She cleared her throat. “Where’s Christian?”
“I’m here.” His voice was close, but Wolf couldn’t see him. “Heather?”
“I’m here, Christian.”
“Damn it! I told you not to touch me.” Shuffling sounds came from close by.
“I’m sorry but you went into convulsions and I was trying to help.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. She sounded pissed.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry I got you messed up with this.”
“Messed up with what?” Wolf reached for Loti in the dark, his hands skimming over her, even though he wanted to find the fledgling and throttle him.
“Why didn’t Margarite or the wards pick up that spell on you?” Wolf hissed through his teeth.
“I don’t know.” Christian paused. “I didn’t know there was a spell on me.”
“I don’t think it was a spell, per se, Wolf.” Loti gripped his hand and he squeezed back. The blackness was getting on his nerves. He wasn’t used to being blind because vampires could usually see in the dimmest of light.
“There must not be any light in here.” Wolf tried looking around with his own eyes. “Wherever here is.”
“It’s a cave.” Scraping and scuffling noises filled the dark and Loti climbed into his lap. “Close your eyes. I’ll show you.”
When he closed his eyes, the curved walls of a cave surrounded them, looking as if they were carved by water. The low ceiling added to the effect of being inside a squat fishbowl.
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