by Cynthia Eden
The shadows seemed to grab her. Nina’s words choked off and a thin line of red appeared on her neck.
“Your throat gets cut,” Dee said, just as Nina’s body fell to the ground.
The flames sputtered away.
The shadow—it was Zane. Standing there, body trembling as he stared down at the woman.
“I saw death. Zane was surrounded by flames. I burned. Nina—her throat was cut.” Catalina’s sad voice drifted through his mind.
But no, after that, she’d said—
“You die, Dee.” The whisper of her words filled his head even as Dee sprang forward and said—
“You die, Grim. You. Die!”
Grim came at her with fury, meeting her armed with the stake she’d used on him.
He drove that stake right at her chest.
“No!”
But Dee was ready. She spun away from the vamp, and the stake grazed her side, not her heart.
Simon grabbed Grim and wrestled the bastard to the ground. He ignored the claws and teeth and fought to hold the Born when he buckled, struggling to keep him pinned as—
“You die,” Dee whispered again and she had a stake in her hands. The stake she’d taken from Simon when his arms were locked around her and no one could see. The stake had been hidden near his waist, just waiting for her.
Grim lurched up.
She shoved the stake into his chest.
Grim’s eyes flared wide and he sucked in a sharp breath.
Then he smiled. “True,” he whispered, and blood spilled from his lips. “Both…right…”
The bastard smiled, and died.
Grim’s vampires inched forward.
Simon glared at them. “Your choice. Die with him or get the hell out of here.”
They stared back at him.
“My mother…” One whispered. “He made me…”
“My wife…” From another.
“My son.” Grief. Fury. “I begged him, but I couldn’t stop him!”
Not born monsters. We are what we become.
Simon stared back down at Grim’s still face. Once, Grim had just been a man, too. A man betrayed who’d woken to the power of a near god.
Dee’s fingers slowly loosened their death grip on the stake. Her breath exhaled on a hard sigh. She trembled.
Grim’s lashes were closed. His lips unmoving. No heartbeat. No breath.
Death.
Simon took Dee’s shoulders and pulled her away from the vampire. Over. Finally.
“Dee?”
He caught a scent then. A wild, fierce scent in the night. Animal.
No, shifter. Jude had to be close. More of the cavalry, but coming too late this time.
The vampires stilled, and he saw their eyes dart to the shadows. They knew when they were being hunted. Fear trickled into their dark gazes.
Then they bolted.
Not as dumb as he’d thought. Just lost, like he’d been.
“Is he dead?” Zane wasn’t looking at them. His eyes stayed on Nina’s body and his shoulders hunched.
The stake was buried in Grim’s heart. The bastard wasn’t so much as twitching. Yep, looked dead.
He pulled Dee toward him. “Sonofabitch, woman, you scared me! Catalina didn’t tell us Grim would die, she said you—”
Her knees buckled and Simon saw her chest—saw the blood that covered her. “Dee?”
A stake. A fucking stake. She’d gotten the Born, but he’d taken his death blow.
Both…right.
Because they were both dying.
Her lashes fell closed. No, no, screw that. Simon grabbed the stake and yanked it from her chest. She was still breathing. Her heart still beating. The stake had missed its mark, it had missed! She wasn’t going to die, no, she wasn’t going to—
“Easy.” Zane’s hoarse voice ordered and Simon realized he’d been screaming. Begging.
“Live,” Simon whispered now.
Grim had missed her heart. He could hear Dee’s heart beating. She’d be all right. She just needed blood. She just needed—
Her lashes lifted. Such dark eyes. Weak, but, still Dee.
“I will,” she promised. “I will.”
He crushed his lips onto hers and kissed the woman as hard and deep as he could.
Surrounded by death, but she was alive.
He leaned his forehead against hers and just held her.
“Missed…heart…barely…” she breathed the words.
“You just scared the hell out of me,” Zane snapped.
And she’d nearly killed him.
“Over,” she said, whisper soft. “He can’t hurt us anymore.”
The voice was gone from his mind. The link cut. “Let’s get out of here.” Away from the death and back to the life that waited for them.
But Dee shook her head and glanced toward Grim. “Always come back…” Her hand lifted to her shoulder. Pressed hard. “They always…come back.”
“Not this time.” Catalina’s certain voice.
She came from the darkness. Soot and blood covered her clothes. Jude walked at her side, clad in a pair of jeans, and his woman held the witch’s arm, helping her to walk. “This time,” Catalina said again, “he’ll stay down.”
She stopped near his body. Catalina stepped away from the shifters and lifted her arms. Her chant came, quick but soft, and the wind stirred.
Power. Licking in the air. So much power.
And not all of it was from the positive source a witch should use. Simon felt the taint of darkness, saw it reflected in Catalina’s eyes.
Changed.
Grim had left his mark on another victim.
A ball of fire exploded—no, Grim’s body exploded into flames. Burned and burned until nothing was left.
Not even ash.
“Guess he won’t be coming back from…that,” Dee managed and they watched the fire sputter.
No, he damn well wouldn’t.
A reminder never to piss off a witch.
Bye, asshole. Have fun in hell.
“I didn’t die.” Dee felt like she’d been hit by a bus or a stake. But then, she had. She winced as she lowered her body onto the chair that Simon had pulled out from who the hell knew where.
Catalina stood a few feet away, rocking back and forth, her eyes on the ashes that fluttered up into the sky.
A cleanup team was en route. Pak’s teams always moved fast. Soon, nothing would be left of this place.
Just the memories of what had been.
“Did you hear me, Cat?” Yeah, good, her voice was getting stronger because the blood flow had finally stopped. “Your future was wrong. I didn’t die. I’m sitting right here, I’m—”
Catalina finally looked her way. “The night’s not over.”
Well, shit. Wasn’t she a ball of sunshine? Not that Cat really liked sunshine these days. Dee blinked. “Uh, you’re still alive, too.”
A shiver worked over Cat’s body. “Doesn’t feel that way.”
“No.” Softer now as she thought about exactly what Catalina might have gone through. How long she’d been with Grim and his little fire-loving friend. “I guess it doesn’t.”
Catalina’s shoulders squared. “I’m not going back to Baton Rouge.”
Not what she’d expected. “Where are you going?”
Her gaze slanted over to the stable. Smoke drifted from the roof. “Somewhere I can forget.”
Forgetting wasn’t always the answer.
“I shouldn’t have left you,” Catalina said. “You needed me. I-I shouldn’t have run.”
“It wasn’t your fight.”
A steady stare. “Wasn’t it?”
Dee swallowed. “How long—” She had to ask.
“I’d just left the parking lot. They got me—” She cleared her throat. “It was fast.”
“And the spells? What all did Grim want?”
Catalina’s eyes darted to the men. Zane and Simon were standing in front of the house. Simon’s gaze kept
coming back to Dee. Checking her. Watching.
He’d forced her to drink from him. A good thing because without the blood, she’d have fallen on her face.
“He wanted Simon to kill you.”
Dee met Simon’s gaze.
“Grim wanted me to send out a command spell. One that would force Simon to act.”
“And you didn’t.” Catalina might not have stayed to fight, but the woman had guts. She’d held out against Grim and she’d—
“And I did.” Dee’s stare came back to her just as Catalina’s head sank.
Wow. Hadn’t expected that. “Then why am I still breathing?”
“Because he loves you.”
It felt like another stake had been plunged into her chest. Only this time, it found its mark in her heart. “You don’t—”
“He should have killed you. He should have turned on you and joined Grim. You would have died. I would have died. Everything I saw would have come true.” A hard rasp of breath. “But he fought my spell and he fought Grim.”
“He wanted his vengeance. His freedom.” That was why he’d fought so hard. Not for—
I’ll fucking love you forever. The words she’d never forget.
“He wanted you.”
She glanced back at him.
His gaze bored into her. So much heat. Need.
Was her own stare like that?
“For you, he’d fight magic and monsters.”
He had.
Catalina turned away. “I-I’m going…tell Zane.”
“You tell him.” Those two had some complicated crap going on.
“I’m not what he needs. Or what he wants.” Sadness there. An ache. “I saw his future. She’s not me.”
“You’ve been wrong once already,” Dee reminded her, and she tore her gaze from Simon. Catalina couldn’t just leave. She belonged with them.
But Catalina didn’t look back and her head shook once, slowly. “Didn’t you hear me, Dee? The night’s not over yet.”
Her lips parted, but Dee had no idea what to say. What more could happen?
“I saw you.” Catalina’s voice drifted back to her. “Surrounded by vampires. No way out. No. Way. Out.”
Understanding finally hit. Catalina had never said that Grim took her out.
The others—they were the ones she needed to fear.
They went back to the same seedy motel. They could have stayed at the scene, made sure Pak’s team arrived, but screw that. Dee was about to fall on her face and taking care of her was Simon’s priority.
She’d taken blood from him at the scene. Not too much. Just enough to kick-start her healing, and then she’d stared around at the darkness, worry in her eyes.
The big, bad bastard was dead. What did she have to worry about?
She shuffled into the room before him, wrinkling her nose. “I smell like death.” Common, for many vampires, but not for her.
Never her.
She stripped, right there, even before he’d slammed the motel room door shut, and Simon just took a minute to enjoy the view. World class, really.
Then she headed for the bathroom and his gaze followed her ass. Dimples. Nice, lick-me dimples right at the top of that curve.
He took a step to follow her.
The lady kicked the door closed.
Okay.
The shower blasted on, the roar of the water easily penetrating through the thin door.
Simon hesitated, his eyes on that door. She’d shut him out, so that clearly said she didn’t want him stripping and joining her for some water fun.
But there’d been something in her eyes since Grim’s death. Not fear. Yeah, worry, but—
Pain. More than just the physical wounds.
He locked the motel room door and strode toward the bathroom. His knuckles rapped against the door. “Dee?”
No answer.
His hand dropped to the doorknob. If she told him to fuck off, he’d leave her in peace. But if she was in there, hurting, he wasn’t going to walk away.
He turned the knob and stepped inside. Steam had begun to rise and to drift lazily in the air, but Dee hadn’t entered the shower yet. She stood near the tub, head bowed, shoulders hunched.
“Dee?” He said her name again, softer.
She glanced back at him and the sight of tears on her face was a punch right in his gut. “It didn’t make any difference.”
What? Fuck, but now he hurt. He grabbed her arms and yanked her against his chest. “Babe, what’s—”
“I thought killing him would make some of the pain stop. That it would give me some peace.” A hard swallow. “But when I close my eyes, I still see them.”
Them. Her family. Simon blew out a breath and held her even tighter. “I know.” He did. Because there was still a hole in his heart for his family. A hole that vengeance hadn’t healed.
“My fault.” A whisper. Stark.
The water fell in a hard stream.
“Nothing that happened was your fault. Not then. Not now.”
She tilted her face up to look at him. “They died because of what I am.”
“No.” Absolutely certain. “They died because some sick freak believed he was going to change the future.”
She paled a bit at that. “You really think the future’s set? That the prophets out there aren’t bullshitting?”
Careful now, because he’d heard Catalina’s last words to her. Not that he’d let that come to pass. “I think Grim sealed his fate a long time ago.”
Her hand pressed against his chest. “And what about your parents? Did killing Grim bring you peace?”
“Not peace.” Never that. “But justice.”
She gave a slow nod. “Justice. It still feels empty.” Her lip began to tremble then. Tough Dee, who could face down a Born and send him to the devil with a grin. “I’d rather have just had…them.”
The woman was breaking his heart. He tucked her head against his chest and held her as the water poured. “I know.”
He let her cry. The tears she’d kept inside over the years. The tears she’d stopped shedding once she began fighting.
When the tears finally stopped, he lifted her and carried her to the shower. It was time to wash away the pain and the past.
Maybe, just maybe, it was time for them to begin again.
They didn’t talk in the shower. Simon stripped and joined her. The water beat on them and washed away the blood and the battle.
And they didn’t talk.
He carried her to the bedroom, put her in the middle of the bed.
The water glistened on her skin and her eyes, so very dark, met his.
Then she parted her legs.
He came down beside her, putting a stranglehold on his need. This time wouldn’t be about heat and desperation.
This time, he’d give her something more.
Because that’s what she’d given him.
His lips touched hers. A light, fleeting kiss. Simple. Soft.
His fingers trailed over her body. Caressed her breasts, the nipples that hardened beneath his fingers.
“I want to forget.” Her whisper.
The first thing she’d said.
His cock, fully swollen and thick with need, pressed against her leg. Forgetting—fleeting. The memories would come back. They always did. But he’d give her this.
Hell, he’d give her anything she wanted.
He wouldn’t rush. Because he needed, too. Her taste…
He kissed his way down her neck. Licked the scars from her past battle. Tasted her nipples and sucked her flesh into his mouth. She twisted beneath him, rising and pulling in a quick breath.
And, finally, finally, the scent of her arousal began to fill the air.
Because he’d never take her when she didn’t want him.
His fingers slipped between her parted thighs, found the hot flesh, and eased into her.
This was what he wanted.
Her eyes turned to black.
He licked
a path down her stomach. Blew lightly over the blond curls that hid her pink flesh.
“Simon…”
He’d always liked the way she said his name, especially when she wanted him. That hitch, the way the end of his name sounded like a moan on her lips.
He put his mouth against her. Took her cream on his tongue and tasted her flesh.
Her hips arched against him, a helpless jerk of her body. His tongue slipped over her clit. Her gasp filled his ears.
When her fingers sank into his hair, he knew she wanted more. Wanted harder. Faster.
Wanted to come.
“Not yet.” He said the words against her sex and she shuddered. The pleasure wouldn’t be fleeting. Not for either of them. It was time she learned that.
His lips closed around the swollen button of her desire, and he sucked, using lips and tongue to give and to take.
Her moan broke.
He gave to her, slowly. Learning every curve. Exploring her flesh. His tongue drove into her and her legs shook. He licked her. Lapped at her and wanted more.
Everything.
“Simon, I’m going to come!”
No. Not yet.
He eased back and his fingers worked her flesh. Drawing out the release, making the desire build with soft strokes and deep plunges of his fingers.
His cock twitched. The need for her was so fierce he burned.
Bite.
The bloodlust was there, as it always was, because he didn’t just want her body. He wanted her blood. Her heart.
Everything.
And he would have it.
She twisted against the sheets. The water had dried from her skin and her breasts thrust up against him.
So pretty. So perfect.
He caught her nipple with his mouth. Sucked deep and hard.
She squirmed beneath him.
Not about forgetting any longer. About them.
She’d remember that.
One last lick, and he lifted his head. Her eyes had gone blind with need and black with desire.
He positioned his cock against her slick heat. Pushed the head inside, just a few inches.
Waited.
Her gaze met his.
Simon caught her hands. He threaded his fingers through hers and pinned her against the mattress.
He took her then. Thrust deep and sure and felt the sensual heat of her sex around him.
His teeth clenched and he reined in the beast—tried to, anyway.