There was a lazy smile on her face when she lifted her head and answered, “Right now is too soon, but later? I enjoy sex, Troy, and you're right, last night was the best night I've ever had. Besides, isn't it important to explore our sexual compatibility?”
“Very,” he agreed, trying not to think too deeply on her suggestion.
The enthusiasm in his retort made her grin, and she added more seriously, “I've been wanting to go back to Braddock's Estate, anyway. Would it be okay if I conducted a séance there sometime?”
The request was a little confusing, prompting him to ask, “A séance?”
“Yeah, remember how mom said I went there trying to solve a local mystery?” At his nod, she continued, “I never got any answers before Helen found me, but I did sense some kind of … mystical imprint at the estate, and I wanted to figure out what it was.”
He had no reason to deny her, answering, “Go for it. My cousin would probably wanna help. I don't think Andi's ever done one before.”
Aislinn grinned, giving him a quick kiss in gratitude before she stubbornly pushed at him. “Okay, now get outta here. I want a bath, and I'm not letting you help.”
Finally, Troy allowed her to push him away, asking, “Sure you don't care about where we go tonight?”
She briefly paused at the door, thinking it over. “Actually, could we go to Blue Moon? I'll get a slice of cake and free drinks for my birthday.”
It was as good an idea as any, and he nodded. “Alright. Just call me when you're ready to go.”
“I will,” Aislinn smiled, and without breaking eye contact, slowly slipped into the bathroom and shut the door. A moment later, he heard the water running, making it difficult to pry himself away.
On the way downstairs, Troy considered the kind of gift he should get her, and a conversation with Miranda and Helen over a plate of homemade waffles they'd insisted he stay for gave him the perfect idea. Not long later, he found himself at the manor discussing it with a few of their contractors, and also informed Andi of his mate's desire to perform a séance.
As expected, she was extremely intrigued.
The entire while, Troy couldn't help thinking about how well he and Aislinn had gotten along that morning. It seemed things were finally beginning to shape up for them, and though there would undoubtedly be further challenges to handle, she was willing to try, making it hard to imagine they'd have too much trouble.
Or, he reluctantly wondered, was this just the calm before a storm?
Chapter 18
Aislinn was determined to knock Troy off his feet that night.
She'd spent most of the day with Miranda and Helen, and not just for her birthday. With her mother leaving town soon to join The Esbat as an elder, they had two reasons to celebrate, putting her in much higher spirits after the talk of her father that morning. So when she returned to her apartment at sundown, she eagerly began the process of getting ready for her evening with Troy.
Typically, Aislinn didn't go out of her way to dress up on a first date—if someone was going to like her, it'd be for who she was and not how she looked. But Troy was different, and this wasn't a typical first date.
Considering their unique situation, she felt that a sexy look without going overboard would be perfect, and got started by cleaning up and painting her nails a metallic ruby red. While waiting for them to dry, she selectively browsed her wardrobe, and finally chose a black, thigh length halter dress with a neckline plunging just low enough to give her a hint of cleavage—as well as show off her rose pendant.
To compliment the outfit, she wore a pair of thigh highs with garters and black stiletto ankle boots.
Because Troy seemed particularly fond of her hair, Aislinn used a pair of jeweled pins to secure her long bangs above her ears, leaving the rest hanging free. Then, as a final touch, she lined her eyes in black, put on red lipstick, and gave herself a once-over in the mirror.
Sexy without going overboard? Nailed it.
Putting away her beauty supplies at the approving thought, she couldn't quell her enthusiasm to see Troy's reaction to the ensemble while simultaneously wondering just how much effort she was actually willing to put into their relationship. Miranda and Helen had dedicated a good portion of their day to asking about her feelings for Troy, and without revealing that he was her familiar to avoid making herself sound biased, she'd admitted that it was hard to stop thinking about him.
Still, the prospect of being with him was a little frightening—though not for the typical reasons. Aislinn had no fear that he'd lose interest and abandon her, and she wasn't even worried about Troy's inevitable desire to turn her into a werewolf. She still needed to ask him about the process of being marked and what the bonding he'd mentioned entailed, but the frightening part was that she could actually envision herself saying yes when the time was right.
How or why, she didn't know, and after putting her makeup bag away, she glanced at her reflection curiously. They already had strong bonds, and she trusted Troy, was coming to care for him a great deal, but would things work out in the long run? Was she even ready to consider living an immortal life as a werewolf?
Still staring into the mirror with the questions in mind, Aislinn suddenly leaned against the dresser when a wave of dizziness overcame her. At the same time, her reflection grew hazy as a rare, but not unfamiliar sensation swept through her mind, one that told her a sporadic vision of the future was about to manifest.
Likely, it'd been triggered by how centered she was on her concerns while gazing into a mirror—a form of divination called captromancy. Aislinn had never put much practice into that type of fortunetelling because the majority of visions it offered had to do with the seer themselves, and she wasn't eager to know her own future. But regardless, she couldn't make herself look away.
The reflection blurred and blended, forming different shapes until an image emerged. Suddenly, she clearly saw herself in Troy's arms, yet the embrace was far from romantic. Laying prostrate beneath the werewolf, she was in tears over an immense amount of pain, weakly hitting Troy's back and whimpering for him to stop while blood seeped down her neck—blood he'd drawn with his fangs.
Aislinn was dumbfounded by the scene, and the sound of Troy's unforgiving growls sent a spike of icy fear through her heart.
Then, just as swiftly as the images had cropped up, they faded away, offering no clues as to when the event was supposed to take place, or how. Even still, it was easy to see what was being done as Aislinn took in her shocked, fearful, and disappointed reflection.
Troy was turning her without permission.
It was questionable whether or not this would happen, or was merely a possibility under the right circumstances, but it felt like a warning, one she couldn't ignore.
But what would provoke him to do such a thing? He'd stated his reluctance to mark her, and she knew he hadn't lied. So what was going on in that vision, and why was he forcing something on her that she so clearly didn't want?
Aislinn glanced over at her phone laying on the dresser and picked it up. There was only one way to figure it out for certain, though it might take time to get an answer. Still, she dialed the number and waited for a pick up, being directed to a voice inbox where she left a message.
“Annika, it's Aislinn. Call me back as soon as you can, I need your help with a vision I just had.”
~*~*~*~
Troy parked his truck on the side of the road in front of Strange Brew and turned off the ignition, though he wasn't as excited as he'd pictured himself being due to the worry churning in his gut.
For some reason, Aislinn sounded reluctant when she'd called him, even disheartened, and when he asked what was wrong, she requested to wait until he arrived before discussing it.
He agreed, and immediately drove over, wondering if he was the cause for her distress. Then again, why would she want to see him if he'd upset her? The questions nagged him the entire way to Strange Brew, and as soon as Troy arrived, he got out of his t
ruck and headed to the side of the building.
But he only made it to the sidewalk before Aislinn stepped around the corner, suggesting she'd heard him pulling up—or her intuition had offered insight into his arrival.
Despite his concerns, as Troy came to a stop, he couldn't help but admire the beautiful woman before him. Some of her outfit was obscured by a black suede jacket, but judging by what he could see, Troy knew he was going to be uncomfortable in his own clothing for most of the evening. How'd I get so lucky?
Still, Aislinn's expression was enough to keep his thoughts grounded with a mixture of disappointment and wariness in her blue eyes. Even more disconcerting was her scent, a pleasantly floral perfume that was laced with a hint of fear.
His worry redoubling, he quickly requested, “Tell me what's wrong, darlin'.” But the moment he stepped forward, she backed away.
The movement sent Troy's heart straight into the pit of his stomach. He was the cause of her distress—her fear—and it was extremely unnerving. What had happened since that morning to make her go from warm and playful to dubiously backing away?
When she remained silent for several moments, Troy insisted, “Aislinn? Talk to me. What's going on?”
Finally, she sighed and looked down, admitting, “When I was getting ready, I had a vision about something that's going to happen between us, and I don't like it.”
She sounded forlorn, and when her gaze met his again, there was a pleading glint in her eyes suggesting she wanted him to make whatever she'd witnessed in this vision right.
Troy only hoped he could, directing, “Tell me what you saw, then. We'll talk about it.”
Taking a breath, she started her explanation calmly enough, but her voice grew more ireful as she went on, “You were holding me down, marking me while I begged you not to. You were hurting me.”
By the time she was done, he was already shaking his head without even realizing it. “I would never do that to you, Aislinn.”
“Are you sure about that? How do I know you haven't been wishing for it?”
Incensed by the very thought, Troy growled, “I haven't. I know you said it's harder to read immortals, but do you have any intuition that I'm lying?”
Finally, the anger on her face dulled to a frown. “No, I really don't, and that's why I'm so confused. Why would you turn me without permission?”
Troy desperately racked his mind for an answer, but only drew blanks. “I can't think of a single reason I'd ever violate you. The marking is sacred to us, Aislinn, and I don't know of any werewolf who'd want to force it on their mate before they were ready.”
It was a mild explanation, but also very truthful. Because the bonding werewolves experienced after the marking left them unable to be without the company of their mate for several days or more, they treated it like a honeymoon. This meant taking Aislinn somewhere special that they could be alone together first, which would also make her transition easier to handle.
So the very idea of marring their bonding by forcing such a change on her was completely unacceptable, causing Troy to ask as a suggestion, “Are you sure this is gonna happen, or is it just a possibility?”
“I don't know,” she admitted. “It was a short vision, but it was also very clear, as if I was experiencing it. You were turning me, and I was struggling to make you stop.”
He couldn't imagine how upsetting something like that was for her, particularly if she'd felt she'd actually been there. But just witnessing such a thing had to be enough to unsettle her around him, and he had no idea why she'd had the vision, or why he'd ever turn her without consent.
There was also little he could say to convince her of that, except, “I swear on my own life that I'd rather turn Savage than hurt you that way, darlin'.”
Aislinn looked back up at him, relieving some of his worry by slowly nodding her head. “I believe you, Troy, and maybe it's just a possible outcome of some particular situation, but it also feels like a warning. I just don't know if it means I need to stay away from you or not. So I left my cousin a message to do a reading for us just to play it safe.”
That sounded reasonable, though Troy had to ask, “Why not do it yourself?”
She hesitated, then tugged a small crystal ball from her jacket pocket, proving she'd considered it, explaining, “I can never read for myself accurately. If you don't wanna know your own future, or if you're afraid of knowing it, the answers are always gibberish. Besides, Annika's more talented at divination than I am, so she'd figure it out faster.”
If that was the case, he hoped her cousin found an answer soon so Aislinn could lay her fears to rest—unless Annika's findings were negative. The notion was indeed alarming, making Troy understand better what Aislinn meant about not wanting to know one's own future.
“If she says I'm dangerous?” he asked hesitantly.
Aislinn frowned. “I know you've got a capacity for violence, Troy, but I don't believe you're actually dangerous. Not to me, anyway.”
He wondered if she knew how good it felt to hear those words coming out of her mouth. Aislinn's trust was more valuable to him than any material possession he could name, and he wanted to keep it at all costs. But he couldn't ignore his lingering doubt that it would be possible when he next asked, “And if she says I'm gonna turn you unwillingly without a doubt, then what? Are you calling this off?”
Troy had to force himself to ask, clenching his jaw in uneasiness until she admitted, “I don't want to call this off, but I don't wanna be forced into anything either.”
All things considered, that was probably the best answer she could offer, and Troy decided to take what he could get, particularly considering it was an odd situation. After all, how was he supposed to protect his mate from her own psychic intuition? Stopping enemies such as vampires from hurting her would be a piece of cake, but her vision wasn't some tangible foe he could tear limb from limb for threatening her.
Instead, he was the enemy, and Troy had no idea how to change it.
But Aislinn seemed to have a few thoughts over the matter, suggesting, “There may be another way for me to find out, but I'll need your help.”
“Anything,” he offered without pause.
Nodding in a manner that said she knew she could rely on him, she finally stepped in closer, explaining, “I saw the vision in my dresser mirror. It's called captromancy, and I've never been very good at it. But I do well with scrying crystals, and I wanted to hold your hand while I gazed.”
It was a curious request, prompting Troy to ask, “Why does it matter if we're holding hands?”
There was a brief hint of a smile on her face as she confessed, “You're my familiar, Troy. Every time you've been around when I was casting a spell, it was easier for me to focus. That's why I don't think you're actually dangerous, and I'm hoping you'll help me find the answer more easily.”
Troy knew from Andi's forays into the world of the mystical that a familiar wasn't something every witch could claim to have. Such a connection couldn't be forced with any being, it simply formed naturally, and though some witches found multiple familiars throughout their lives, many were lucky to have even one.
He also recalled hearing that several witches found their familiars to be one in the same with a mate, though he wasn't sure just how much truth that rumor possessed. Still, the connection was probably similar in some fashion, so Aislinn's news gave him a sense of pride he couldn't snuff out despite the worry of her vision.
As if she could see it on his face, she asked, “You're not gonna get all arrogant on me, are you?”
Troy shook his head, stepping in to take her hand—and found the way she laced her fingers through his to be extremely heartening as he answered, “Under different circumstances, I might, but now? All I have to say is good because I wanna know what the hell is going on.”
He just hoped the outcome, if she could find one, wasn't ruinous.
Chapter 19
Aislinn had no idea if she'd be able to divine an an
swer to their questions, but she had to try for both their sakes.
As strange as it sounded, she was relieved to hear the worry and anger in Troy's voice. It proved he not only cared about what happened, but wanted to prevent it. Still, getting past her own psychic blocks was going to be a challenge, even with a familiar's help and the increased magical prowess granted by a ritual. No psychic could see an outcome they feared knowing, meaning she'd likely stop herself before she could really get started.
Once Troy had taken her hand, she exhaled a breath in preparation, then lifted the crystal, directing, “Just give me a few minutes to focus.”
He nodded silently, offering her hand a comforting squeeze as she gazed into the quartz at the various lights from the streetlamps and the moon reflecting within it. Slowly, those lights started growing brighter, until all of the refracting colors blended together, and everything seemed to melt away into a murky haze.
When Aislinn attempted this earlier, she'd simply watched the fog without being able to drag any images from it, and even now, she couldn't see a thing. But with Troy's presence, words could be heard spoken in whispers, both masculine and feminine.
At first, they were too soft to be understood. But they were growing in intensity until she clearly perceived Troy demanding No! Just keep working, goddamn it!, the line followed by her own voice weakly begging L-let me go!
Though she was unable to see, the emotion in the phrases were anxious and fearful—even on Troy's part—and they were punctuated by a loud, intimidating roar. Aislinn gasped when she heard the rage conveyed in the sound, trying to focus when, without warning, a jolt of pain shot through her entire body.
It was so intense that she dropped the crystal and nearly screamed.
Stumbling back, Troy caught her in his arms, urgently inquiring, “Aislinn! What the hell happened?”
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