by Lila Kane
When he releases me, I glare. “Screw you. You don’t get to tell me what to do‒not after all I’ve been through to try to fix this problem. All the problems I walked into because of you and your bullshit note.”
Myra sucks in her cheeks. “I think I’ll take my dinner to my room.”
“Don’t bother,” I say. “I appreciate you making dinner, Myra, but I’m going home.”
“Willow‒”
I whip around, pointing my finger at Logan. “Don’t you dare say anything.”
I take one last sip of wine before placing the glass on the counter. Then I turn and stroll from the kitchen, heading upstairs to Logan’s room to find my shoes. My heart is beating fast with adrenaline and anger. Can’t they see how important this is? If Selena gets into my head again, someone is going to get hurt anyway. Whether it’s me or someone else, it doesn’t matter. Because then everything is over. Everything I’ve worked for is worthless.
I find my shoes next to the lounge chair and start to sit when I see Logan standing in the doorway.
“I’m leaving,” I tell him.
“You’re angry.” He flashes a small smile. “I can tell.”
“This isn’t funny. I’m sick of everyone trying to tell me what to do.”
“Maybe next time we should take a vote, then.” He props his shoulder against the door frame. “Because it’s going to have the same outcome. But if you need diplomacy to get there, I understand.”
I fold my arms, the shoes still dangling from my fingertips. “It’s what I need to do.”
“I’m willing to bet the shifter isn’t going to like your solution any better than me. And neither is the librarian‒so how is this my fault?”
“Are you serious?”
“Is that a trick question?” He grins. “You know, you’re pretty hot when you’re angry.”
“Shut up.”
“Now you’re trying to tell me what to do? Hypocrite.”
“Go to hell.” I push past him, carrying my shoes instead of putting them on. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
He lets me get all the way to the bottom of the stairs before he steps in front of me. “Okay, I’m sorry.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I could have asked you not to go to the cave. I get it. You’re independent and strong and you don’t need someone bossing you around. But that’s also what scares me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You were stuck at the bottom of a well. You were hurt and scared and cold and…” He clears his throat and stares at the shoes in my hand. “It was hard seeing you like that. I wanted to protect you from Selena, and the idea of you facing her again, in her territory, doesn’t sit well with me. So you might be independent and strong but that puts you in even more danger. And makes it that much harder for me to take care of you.”
I open my mouth to argue with him, but he holds up his hand.
“Yeah, I get that, too. You don’t need anyone to take care of you. Strong and independent and all that. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to take care of you. That’s what you do when you care about someone. And Willow…” He lifts his gaze, an equal amount of amusement and vulnerability in his eyes. “I care about you.”
I pass the front door and lean against the wall, blowing out a breath. My anger is fading, but I still don’t know how to deal with this. A vampire caring about a human‒a witch. Imagine that.
“Yeah, it kind of shocks the hell out of me too,” Logan says, voice low.
“I want Selena gone,” I tell him. That’s what I need to deal with right now. He walks so he’s standing in front of me again. “You don’t know what it’s like having her in my mind. To have her try to convince me to kill you every time we’re in the same room. To have her putting images in my head‒of you bleeding, of you hurt‒every time I want to kiss you.”
His eyes soften. He takes my shoes from my hands and sets them on the floor. “Is she here now?”
I feel around for her‒reach deep inside for the flames. But I don’t find anything. “I don’t think so.”
“Do you still want to go home?”
I shake my head.
“Good. Do you still want to kiss me?”
“Yes.”
He moves in so fast, I barely blink before his mouth is against mine. I gasp, lips parting. He slips his tongue in, tangling it with mine. My back is flat against the wall and I’m grateful for the extra support.
I cling to his shoulders, every part of me on fire. But the flames stay inside. My whole body is tingling.
“Logan,” I whisper.
“Please don’t tell me to stop,” he says, voice just as soft. His breath tickles my ear.
A laugh catches in my throat. “God, please, no. Don’t stop.”
“Thank you.”
“But what about Myra?”
He lifts the bottom of my shirt, exposing my stomach. “In her room, like she said.”
“What if she comes out?”
He glances around, looking torn between going somewhere else and shrugging like it’s not a big deal.
“The library.” I point. The door’s ajar and we’re only a few feet away.
Logan hikes me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, resting on his hips while he carries me into the library and kicks the door closed. It’s dark inside, only a small amount of light coming through the shutters. It’s almost night.
I flick my hand at the fireplace and flames burst from within. Logan glances over and grins. “Ambiance. Nice.”
“I want to be able to see you. All of you.”
He sets me on the rug in front of the fire and then whips a throw from the back of a chair. He opens it and lets it flutter to the floor. Then he snags me around the waist and pulls me against him. His mouth is like a fever on mine, fast and hungry.
I match his pace, my fingers sliding down to his waist to find the button of his jeans. My nails scrape his stomach and he groans.
“Shirt,” I say, breathless. “Off.”
I grab the bottom of it, but he’s faster than me, pulling it over his head and tossing it on the floor. His chest and shoulders are a feast of curves and muscle, stomach tight and toned. I run my hands all the way down, lingering at his abdomen while his lips trace my jaw and then drop to my shoulder.
Logan pulls my shirt off next, letting it slide to the floor while he concentrates his mouth on my collarbone. My head falls back and his hand tightens around my waist. His lips travel to my breasts. He brushes his mouth across the tops of them, pulling down the straps of my bra.
“Willow,” he whispers, breath featherlight on my skin.
He undoes my bra and drops it next to my shirt. And then he steps back. “I didn’t get enough of you the last time we were in here.”
He means when he was holding me hostage. We kissed‒we did more than kiss‒but I had to get away. So I stabbed him with a letter opener and ran from the room half naked.
But now running is the last thing on my mind.
I unzip my jeans and slide them off, adding them to the pile. His gaze travels the length of me, lingering on every inch before he meets my eyes again. The light from the fire reflects off his eyes. This time when he presses me against him, he’s slow and gentle.
He lowers me to the blanket before pulling off his pants and boxers. He slides on a condom and before I can blink, he’s next to me again, hand splaying across my stomach. He skims his fingers down to my underwear, fingers dipping into the hem.
My heart races out of control. Logan smiles and I know he can hear it.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs.
He glides my panties down my legs and tosses them so close to the fire, I’m afraid for a moment they’re going in. And then he cups his hand over me, pressing his finger into my heat. I arch my back, hands clenching on the blanket.
“Logan,” I gasp as he slides his finger in and out, sending me close to the edge. “Please.”
He covers my body with his, m
outh finding mine again. He kisses me long and deep before easing between my legs. He slides into me in one smooth motion and I sigh.
“God, I want you,” I say, my voice choked and full of need. “Logan‒”
He starts pumping, in and out, and I can feel the need in him building as well. I match his speed, his urgency, until every part of me is thrumming. He drives into me one more time before clenching his arms around me.
We come together, tight in each other’s arms as the climax goes on and on.
And then I catch on fire.
Chapter 18
“Oh my God! Logan!”
I push at his shoulders, but by the time he realizes what’s happening, he should be burnt. My arms and legs, everything is on fire. He’s still inside of me, but he doesn’t look panicked. He looks surprised.
“Willow, it’s not hurting me.”
“No‒no, you have to move‒”
When I don’t stop pushing him, he captures my wrists and pins them above my head. “Willow, stop. Look. It’s not hurting me.”
The flames die out, simmering down so I can barely see them before they vanish completely. He moves so he can straddle me, and I just lie there in shock.
“What happened?”
His lips curl into a lazy grin. “You caught on fire. I’m assuming that wasn’t because of Selena. That was because of…you know…”
I swallow my surprise. “It wasn’t Selena.”
Keeping my hands locked above my head, he leans down, catching one of my nipples between his teeth. My back arches again. “Logan, I can’t‒”
“You didn’t hurt me when you caught on fire,” he murmurs, switching to my other breast. “Why do you think that is?”
My body starts throbbing with need, and I’m halfway to another climax. “I don’t know,” I manage. “I’m having trouble‒focusing.”
He looks up with a smile. “Maybe you’re controlling it better.”
“Maybe it was because we were touching.”
He releases my hands and sits up, looking intrigued. “Let’s try it.”
I don’t move. “What?”
“Let’s try it.”
He pulls me to a sitting position and keeps my hands in his. Light from the fire flickers off his face and his chest.
“Do the fire thing again,” he says. “And we’ll see if it hurts me.”
“I’ve done this before, Logan. The last time I was here. And outside my house and‒”
“But you weren’t touching me,” he says. “You shot fire from your fingertips, you caught my jeans on fire, and me on fire, but you weren’t touching me. And you were scared then. You’re not now.”
“Yes, I am,” I protest, trying to pull my hands away. “Because I don’t want to catch you on fire.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
He squeezes my hands, meeting my eyes. “Try. Please.”
I settle back on the blanket and shiver, the good feeling I had a few moments ago long gone. Logan breaks away for a moment to grab another blanket to wrap around my shoulders.
My heart thumps hard in my chest and I lower my gaze to our linked hands.
“You can do it, Willow,” Logan says in a soothing voice.
I try not to jerk back when the fire sparks in my hands. Logan straightens in surprise, but doesn’t let go. At first, I’m afraid I’m hurting him, but then he smiles.
“You’re doing it, Willow.”
I study our hands. His are engulfed in flames just like mine, but he’s holding on like nothing’s happening.
“It doesn’t hurt?” I ask.
“No.”
My hands flex. “Are you sure?”
He meets my eyes. “Not at all.”
“What does it feel like?”
“It’s tingling, like it’s re-energizing me. Probably the feeling you have when the fire heals you.”
My lips part, but I’m afraid to say the words. That maybe this will help Myra. That maybe we found a way.
Instead, I say, “I don’t think Selena would like this.”
“Don’t talk about her,” he whispers. “What if it makes her come back?”
“I can still feel her. But it’s like she’s sleeping. Like her power isn’t as strong.”
The flames flicker and go out. Logan stares at his hands. And says what I can’t.
“I think you can help Myra.”
“I don’t want to get her hopes up.” I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “And I definitely don’t want to hurt her.”
He clasps the front of the blanket closed to help keep me warm. “You won’t.”
“I’d rather practice more, make sure I can do this.”
“You can. And she’s stronger than she looks.”
I smile. “I believe it.” My stomach grumbles and I laugh. “I guess I’m hungry.”
Logan stands immediately and grabs his jeans. “You haven’t had anything to eat all day. Sorry you had to wait.”
“I’m not.”
He grins and snatches my shirt before I can put it on. “I’m not sure I’m done with you yet.”
“You’re going to have to feed me first.”
“I’ll do better than that,” he says. “Stay there and I’ll bring you a plate. You can eat by the fire.”
“You don’t have to.”
He flashes another smile and hands my shirt back. “I want to. Stay there.”
So I wait. And think about Selena. I’m not sure if her powers faded because I took off the necklace or because she used too much energy this morning shoving me into the well. Maybe she’ll be out of energy again tomorrow and I can get into the cave without her interfering.
“You look like you’re plotting something.”
I yank in a breath, rising halfway to my knees. “Logan.”
He sets the plates aside. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was thinking. You’re so quiet, I never hear you coming.”
Logan returns to the blanket and pulls me into his lap. I laugh and turn to him, but he buries his face in my shoulder. He breathes in deep. “You smell good.”
“Soap,” I say with a smile. I rest my cheek against his hair. “From your shower.”
“It smells better on you.” His voice is low and deep when he says, “I’m sorry I scared you. You had a long day.”
“With a really nice ending.”
He looks up. “Yeah?”
I nod.
He brushes my jaw with his thumb. “Are you sure? Is this okay?”
“I’m not…I’m not at the same place in my life as you are. I don’t know what I want for the future. Coming here sort of changed my plans. But right now...” I kiss him. “This feels right.”
“For right now,” he answers, “that’s just fine by me. Let’s eat.”
That night I sleep in Logan’s bed, curled on my side with his hand resting on my hip. And even though the fire helped heal my bruises and my head, I’m still exhausted. When I dream, I dream deep.
Selena is there, sitting next to me on the bed in Logan’s room. She looks different‒she’s wearing clothes like mine. Looking like she belongs in this decade, not a century ago in a dress.
I look over at her, words from my mind whispering to her. What are you doing here?
Helping you.
She touches my hand and then vanishes. But when I sit up, I can feel her in me. And she’s powerful again.
Kitchen.
I ease away from Logan, pausing when he murmurs in his sleep. He turns his head the other way and I crawl out of bed. My feet are bare on the hardwood as I leave the bedroom. It’s dark in the hallway, but Selena’s leading me. All the way down the stairs, past the front door, and to the kitchen.
In the darkness, I walk to the stove. My hand automatically reaches for the knife on the magnetic strip against the wall. It’s a butcher knife, long and sharp. The blade flashes in the moonlight streaming through the window.
Silently and smoothly, I pad back down the hallway, up the stairs and to Logan’s room. He’s still sleeping peacefully. I walk around to the other side of the bed. His cheek is pressed against the pillow, dark hair blending into the deep blue pillowcase.
He’s a vampire. Vampires are evil. Stab him.
There’s a hitch in my step when I move closer to the bed. I stop, something niggling at the back of my mind.
Kill him, Willow. And we’ll all be free.
I rest my legs against the side of the bed, slowly pulling the covers from his chest. Then I raise the knife high and aim for his heart.
I’m about ready to plunge the knife into his chest when his eyes open. His reflexes are faster than mine and he grabs my wrist.
“Willow!”
I yank away from him, stumbling a few feet from the bed.
Kill him, quick!
Logan’s out of the bed when I lunge at him again. He catches my wrist, but I have the strength of Selena’s power‒and her anger‒now, and I shove him before attacking again. His foot catches on the edge of the rug and he takes me down with him. I rise up with the knife and swing it down. He stops it an inch from his chest, fingers tight around my wrists.
“Willow.” His cheeks are taut with the strain of holding me off. “Listen to me, Willow. This isn’t you.”
My grip falters some and in that instant, he gathers his strength and flips me over. I land on my back, elbows rapping hard against the floor. The knife comes loose and clatters on the hardwood. I reach for it, but Logan’s hand closes over mine, trapping it against the handle. Then he switches his grip, pressing both wrists to the hard floor and straddling me.
“Willow, listen to me. This isn’t you.”
I shake my head. Kill him! Get him!
Selena’s voice won’t stop.
“Willow,” Logan soothes. “Please. Shut her out.”
Selena screams inside my head and then goes silent. Her power is dormant again, and my body sags. Logan comes into focus in the dim room. I yank in a breath.
“Logan. Oh, God. I didn’t mean to‒”
He eases his grip and I scramble to a sitting position, eyes wide and panic racing through every inch of my body.
“You need to let go of the knife,” Logan says.