by Caris Roane
Despite her hatred of Roche, she felt a powerful call on her soul to be with him, to finally give in to his will.
At the same time she knew that the way Roche’s words flowed into each other meant he was heavily drugged right now. He’d probably doubled up on dark flame.
Not good.
The dark flame drug had the unique ability to enhance the fae dreamglider, and Roche had pulled out all the stops on this one. The problem was if he sustained his assault, her lesser ability and power would cause her to succumb.
But Agnes had drilled her on one point specifically; her out-of-control emotions, including her fear of Roche, would feed the invading spirit.
She needed to grow very calm if she had any hope of fighting him off.
She closed her eyes and took slow breaths. She focused, as Agnes had taught her, on her own spirit.
Again, Roche’s mind pressed in on hers, every word painfully seductive. Come to me, Juliet. I’ll give you pleasure as you’ve never known. I’ll show you ways to enhance your dreamgliding until it’s the only place you’ll ever want to be. I’ll even let you keep Brannick with you as your pet, if you like.
Every word he spoke, chipped away at her resolution. She found herself longing to be with him, to surrender to his will.
She reached toward Brannick. If you can hear me, Brann, I need your help.
She felt something from behind her, a small stream of energy that wasn’t Roche. It was faint, but it was there. As it moved toward her, she drew the power within her. The moment the electrical pulses made contact, she felt a vampire connection.
Her heart leaped.
Brannick.
She blocked Roche’s telepathy and reached out to Brannick. Are you alive?
Barely, but I’m here. Take hold of what I am as an alter vampire. Use it. Use me. I’m here.
She’d felt something similar on the bridge, when she’d created a cloak around herself. For whatever reason, she had a powerful connection to Brannick, even though he was deathly ill.
She invited the stream of energy to flow upward, to fill her chest, then flow into her mind. Once there, it cascaded over every other part of her, all the way to her hands and down her legs to her feet until she hummed with vampire power.
What the hell is this? Roche’s words floated through her head. I can’t see you anymore. I can’t feel you. Where did you go?
Juliet didn’t respond. Instead she began side-stepping away from the smoky dreamglide Roche inhabited until she was completely disengaged from him.
Once separated, the dreamglide vanished as though it had never been there. Roche was gone.
She almost started celebrating, but the fae part of her sensed another danger. She knew Roche had assembled a force in real-time that was now headed toward her canal home.
She and Brannick were both in trouble.
Returning to the couch, she discovered that Brannick’s eyes were open, but they kept rolling back in his head. He’d finally come back from the brink, but he wasn’t in any kind of shape to battle a powerful group of fae warriors.
She had to think, and she had to figure this out fast or they’d both be dead.
She could feel Roche now in real-time. He and his force weren’t far from the Lotus Tree development.
Using her new ability to invoke a vampire shield, she surrounded herself and Brannick as tight as she could.
She almost spoke aloud to him, but knew it would be wiser to refrain from making any kind of sound.
She switched to telepathy. Brann, we’re in physical danger. I’ve got to get you off the couch. Now. Roche has seen your location in the dreamglide and he’s coming to destroy us both.
Juliet, I’m damn weak. You’ll have to lift me up from the couch. Try using pure physical strength, but focus on being more vampire than fae. Do you understand?
The suggestion stunned her at first. But if she could create a cloak, why not take on Brannick’s pure vampire physical brawn as well? I’ll try.
She focused all her energy on enhancing her physical strength. And with a thought, there it was.
With Roche and his men so near, she didn’t have time to test it out. She simply bent her knees, slid her arm under his back and tugged his arm over her shoulder. She lifted him up and kept lifting until he was on his feet. She couldn’t believe how strong she was. Brannick was six-five and all heavy muscle.
Though he sagged against her and was barely conscious, he could still shuffle his way alongside her toward the arched doorway leading to the bedrooms. She kept him moving, one foot after the other.
But she could feel him slipping away again, which meant she wouldn’t be able to get him all the way to the master bedroom as she’d hoped. As soon as she reached the door of the smaller second bedroom, she hurried him inside. The moment he lost consciousness, he became a dead weight. She didn’t have quite enough strength to hold him up and fell with him to the carpeted floor at the foot of the bed.
At least they were out of the main room of the house and with luck, combined with her still-functioning vampire shield, maybe Roche’s men wouldn’t find them.
She lay facing Brannick. His eyes were closed, his face pale, but he was alive. She drew close and surrounded his back with her arm. I’ve got you. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. Roche and his men are coming into the house.
Sounds of men shouting and their feet slamming against her wood floors sent jolts of fear through her mind. She forced herself to stay relaxed and not to panic. She kept her breathing steady.
A masculine voice at the door called out, “There’s no one in this room.”
More pounding feet toward the master bedroom.
Another man shouted. “The door to the back patio is wide open. They’re gone.”
Juliet smiled. She always kept the patio doors open during early May. She loved the flow of air and the balmy sweet smell of the spring flowers she’d planted at night in her garden. How odd to think this one small habit might have just saved both their lives.
A moment later, she heard distant footsteps, and by extending her fae senses, she could tell Roche’s force was gone.
She remained where she was but fished her phone out of the pocket of her long skirt, then called Vaughn. She knew he couldn’t leave the safe house. But when she explained what had happened, he sent over a squad of four of his security force, each of them former Elegance border patrol officers, who would stand guard over her house.
She pulled the comforter off the bed, and covered them both. Even though he was unconscious, she knew this was where she needed to be.
She only lowered the vampire shield long enough to talk to the warlock in charge. Once she gave her orders, she restored the shield.
Occasionally, she heard the men talk to each other or move through the house checking to make sure everything was secure. She probably could have joined them, but her faeness told her to stick close to Brannick.
Hours later, when dawn grew near, the warlocks closed all the shutters and sealed up the house. They would stay in her canal home through the day.
Sensing the house was secure, she finally fell asleep.
~ ~ ~
Brannick woke up from a series of dreams that may not have been dreams. He lay on his side in one of Juliet’s back bedrooms and on the floor, and she was with him. He spooned her, his arm draped over her waist, but he couldn’t quite remember how he’d gotten here.
He ached head-to-toe, but that’s when it dawned on him. He wasn’t dead.
He hadn’t died after all.
Somehow, he’d come back from the edge of paradise. But who had called it that?
He squeezed his eyes shut and settled his head on his arm. His vampire healing had kicked in at last. He had a terrible pain from below his sternum, through to his back, and it was hard to breathe because of it.
But he was alive.
Something had given him a push back to the living, back from paradise.
His eyes popped open.
<
br /> His wife.
He’d been with his wife in Juliet’s home. She’d looked so beautiful, even if she’d only been a ghost.
Without warning, tears slid from his eyes. She’d looked exactly like he remembered her, except in her ghost form, she hadn’t been pregnant. When she’d died, she’d been seven months along.
He huffed a sigh and lived with the pain of his loss for a few minutes, remembering Olivia and their four-year-old, Kelly. Eventually, his wife’s most recent visit replaced his sadness. He even smiled.
She’d spoken about taking care of both their children, getting them grown up. Was that what happened after death or had he made it all up within his unconscious mind in order to make it back to Juliet?
Yet, somehow he knew it was all true. Life was a mystery, death an even greater one.
He checked his internal clock, the part of him created through the alter transformation that kept his sun-sensitive vampire nature safe. The black-out shutters were in place, which meant dawn had come and gone, but he was surprised to find it was past noon.
He thought back, trying to recall how he’d gotten to Juliet’s second bedroom. He remembered dropping out of his dreamglide and somehow forcing himself to a place of consciousness to help Juliet. Roche had arrived ready to hijack her into some kind of weird-ass smoky dreamglide.
Yep, the bastard had tremendous fae abilities.
As weak as Brannick had been, he’d sent Juliet a stream of vampire power in order to help her fight off Roche. With it, she’d rebuilt her vampire shield, which had sent Roche packing.
But it was later, after each of them had left the dreamglide that she’d taken on his physical strength and supported him into the smaller, second bedroom. The shield had kept them hidden from Roche’s men.
He’d passed out again. But Juliet had stayed with him.
He pulled her close now. She murmured something unintelligible in her sleep, then drifted off again. She’d saved his life in more than one way last night. Perhaps more significantly, she’d been the reason why he’d come back from death.
She’d needed him. Roche would have had her otherwise.
The battle with Roche and afterward the near-death experience had changed something inside Brannick. He’d been angry with Juliet when he’d first learned she’d been dreamgliding him. Yet he knew now he’d been a willing participant. More than that, he’d essentially been her lover for five months.
He had a hard time wrapping his head around this reality, even though the vivid memories which had surfaced told him the truth. He also felt a profound affection for the woman, but in real-time he barely knew her.
He leaned close and sniffed Juliet’s strawberry-scented hair. She was so familiar, yet in many ways still a stranger.
He didn’t know what to make of the situation. Maybe when he was fully healed he would understand better how to move forward with her.
For now, he needed to heal.
With that, he drifted off again.
When he awoke, he was on the floor alone, though he was covered by the bed’s comforter. Checking his internal clock once more and seeing that the sky was dark, he was stunned to find he’d slept through another entire day.
He heard masculine voices coming from the living room. He listened for a moment, then smiled. He recognized Vaughn at once, as well as another man, Fergus, who was the alpha of the Gordion pack in Savage.
He put a hand to his chest. The pain was gone. He was completely healed.
He could also smell bacon frying, an aroma that somehow lifted him straight to his feet. He was damn hungry.
He had another problem, though. Except for the bandage around his chest, he was buck naked. He unwrapped the stained cloth and tossed it in the small waste basket by the dresser.
On the bed lay a clean pair of leathers, black socks and a black tank. Even his heavy, leather boots had been cleaned up.
Next to the nightstand was his tan and black leather bag, no doubt stocked with more clothes and hopefully his shaving gear. Vaughn would have brought this from Brannick’s Crescent home.
Beneath his pants, he found his Glock and holster.
He stood there for a long moment, holding his gun, smoothing his fingers down the barrel. He’d taken out some bad guys the night before. But he knew it was a drop in the bucket compared to the force Roche had at his disposal.
Roche would be back, no question about that. But if the opportunity arose tonight, he’d do what he could to take the fae out permanently.
He wanted a shower first and didn’t care who saw him in the raw. Because of the red-flowered dress dreamglide memory, he also knew the layout of Juliet’s house. He gathered up his things and headed to the master bedroom and attached bath.
But no one was around.
He shaved first, then took a long shower. The hot water was exactly what he needed. Tonight he’d get a fresh start.
He dried off, then unfolded his leathers and slid them on. The tank followed. He was pretty sure Juliet was the one who called Vaughn and Fergus. Smart move. She knew her house needed a security detail.
Once he had his boots on and his belt threaded, he clipped on the holster. Sliding his Glock in place, he felt prepared for whatever the night would throw at him.
He left the bedroom and found Vaughn and Fergus sitting on stools at the kitchen island, eating bacon and scrambled eggs. Juliet’s house was on the small side and their big bodies took up the entire length of the counter.
A few steps more and Juliet came into view. Most of her light brown curls were caught up on top of her head with some hanging haphazardly down her back.
The sight of her tightened his chest and for a moment made it hard to breathe. He’d always thought her beautiful, but maybe having ridden so close to death made her even more so. Her dark blue eyes were rimmed with thick black lashes. Her nose was straight except for a sexy dip near the bridge. She had strong cheekbones and full lips. She looked like she could pose for a fashion magazine and then some.
There was no question he was drawn to her. Yet, he also felt a strong need to be cautious. He didn’t want a relationship with any woman, but he already felt connected to Juliet in ways he didn’t get.
At almost the same moment, lovemaking images once more flowed through his head, reminding him how intimate they’d been in the dreamglide.
She turned toward him with a coffee pot in hand, her brows raised. “You’re awake.” Her gaze fell to his chest, the point of injury. “Feeling better?”
His hand went to his chest. “Like new. Thank you.”
Her lips curved. “That door swings both ways. I owe you so much, Brannick. Roche would have had me if you hadn’t helped me escape the pull of his dreamglide.”
She poured coffee into a heavy, red mug and handed it to him.
He stood blocking the entrance to the small kitchen, his gaze glued to her as she moved around. She was cooking up another batch of scrambled eggs and had a plate ready. She wore a dark navy, sleeveless dress, loose like the others she wore, but this one seemed fuller around the skirt and went to mid-calf. She had on a pair of white sandals. She looked damn sexy.
He took a sip.
“You look a helluva lot better than two nights ago.” Vaughn had his cup to his lips.
Brannick turned toward him, frowning slightly. “You were at the canal? After the battle?”
“Emma and I came out to help. We did what we could. Though, I’ll admit, neither of us thought you’d pull through. Emma said something about you having slipped all the way to death’s door.”
He nodded, remembering Olivia talking to him and saying the same thing. “I did. I was right there. But Juliet pulled me back.”
Vaughn scrubbed the side of his head, shorn close with tattoos showing through. He had black hair, gray eyes and was built like a tank. “Glad you made it.”
Fergus lifted his coffee mug. “Here, here.” He had a rough wolf’s voice, something common in Savage Territory.
Brannick thanked him for helping out as well.
“My pleasure.” The wolf’s gaze, however, slid back to Juliet and he tracked her more than Brannick liked.
He knew enough about shifter ways to understand it wasn’t personal; wolves, especially alphas, were constantly on the hunt for the right female. Despite Brannick’s understanding of the situation, he took a step farther into the kitchen and caught Fergus’s eye.
Brannick lifted a brow.
Fergus eyed him with a wicked glint in his eye, then took a sip of coffee. Shifter rules were different. A woman was free game unless spoken for.
Brannick stared hard at Fergus. “Keep your paws off, Fergus. Juliet’s mine. And don’t think I won’t fight you in one of your sand pits, if it comes to that.” Savage Territory had a number of pits they used for fighting, usually dominance battles among the males. As an alpha, Fergus had seen his fair share. Brannick had witnessed a couple and thought it possible he’d never survive a contest with Fergus. But like hell he wouldn’t put up a fight.
Fergus had a mane of dark hair with a braid on one side. He was a handsome bastard and exuded a quality – some said a wolf musk – that had women following him in droves.
A plate with a fork appeared in front of Brannick. Juliet wore a crooked smile, her eyes full of laughter. “Eat. Now. You’re still looking a little pale. And if you’re going to battle Fergus, you’ll need a little more muscle on your vampire bones.”
Both Vaughn and Fergus chuckled. Juliet hadn’t tried to refute his verbal claim on her. She knew wolves as well, since Revel bordered Savage Territory.
Her nearness, however, had awakened a couple of other needs, one of them very vampire, the other typically male. Despite his serious reservations about getting involved with Juliet, he almost set the plate down, crossed to her and pulled her into his arms. If they’d been alone, he would have. His drive toward her seemed to be increasing at light speed.
But she was right about his need for food, and the aroma of the bacon called to him.
He stood at the counter, at a right angle to Vaughn, and dug in.
After he’d finished half his meal, he glanced at Juliet. She leaned her hip against the far counter. Her arms were crossed over her chest, though she still held her mug in her hand. She looked amused.