Evernight

by Kristen Callihan

  Holly shot him a quelling look before turning to Sin. “How do you intend to help her?”

  “We need to… no, you, with your great big brain box, must figure out a way to contact Adam. To demand to see Eliza.”

  “Oh, bloody hell,” Thorne bit out in exasperation. “You want to draw her into this? Are you bamming me?”

  The room heated at an alarming rate.

  “Hush,” Holly snapped, before sitting back with a huff. “Why haven’t you asked Daisy for help? She is your sister and a GIM.”

  “Even if she wanted to, she’d be unable to call him. The GIM literally cannot call Adam forth unless it is to his benefit. Considering that I intend to take away his new prize, I don’t think he’d come.” Sin sighed. “You, however, are an elemental. And I’m only asking for your help to call him forth.”

  “You think I can contact one of the most powerful known demons, who just so happens to live in another plane of bloody existence?” Holly laughed, but there was little humor in it. “I’m inventive, not a miracle worker.”

  Sin’s mouth flattened to a thin line. “But I was told that only you could… You have to, Holly. You simply do.”

  “Why must I?” She rose to her feet, the fear in Sin’s voice making her chest tighten. “What aren’t you telling me, St. John?”

  He seemed to deflate. “I made a blood vow to see her returned home.”

  A blood vow. Which meant should he fail, he’d be the property of whoever he’d made the vow to.

  Thorne muttered under his breath, and Holly rather wanted to join him.

  “Look, all I know is that it has to be you. Don’t ask me for details,” Sin said, “because I can’t tell you.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you can.” If the blood vow forbade him, he’d literally be unable to say a word. Who in the bloody hell had he made this vow to? And why? Holly had no way of knowing.

  “It’s for a good cause, isn’t it?” His expression was mulish, defiant. The little idiot.

  “At what cost?” Holly snapped, then sighed. “All right, yes. I want to see Eliza home too.”

  Sin’s entire body seemed to sigh with relief. “Thank you, Holly.”

  Thorne, on the other hand, sat up straight. “You are both barmy. You cannot make an enemy of Adam. He will never let you live.” Thorne turned on her, his fangs extended and his eyes burning. “After all we went through to keep you safe, you cannot do this. I won’t let you.”

  Holly had a great deal to say about what William Thorne could do with his grand edicts. He’d soon learn that he would not be ordering her about. But he’d suffered for her this night. He’d suffered due to her sins for a year. So she held her tongue for now and simply rested a hand upon his arm. “I’m not doing anything at the moment. And we’ll sort this out in the morning,” she added when Sin voiced a protest. “When this is through, St. John, we’re going to have words, you and I.”

  He glared back. “Fine.” Sin winced. “There’s more.”

  “Here we go.” Thorne tossed up a hand in exasperation. And they both glared at him.

  Sin recovered first. “Thorne’s involved… somehow.”

  Thorne snapped to attention. “The bloody hell—”

  “I don’t know how,” Sin explained. “But my… that is…” He grimaced, clearly fighting to find a way around the blasted blood vow. “They know about him and seem to find his presence here very… shit… they approve! They’ve been pushing you two together.”

  He’d broken out into a sweat and swayed until he braced himself against the arm of the chair. With a shaking hand, he wiped his brow.

  “Oh, Sin.” Holly ached that he’d bound himself, for whatever reason, and that he could only feed her crumbs.

  “Holly—” his voice sounded weak and rough—“they believe you and Thorne are the key.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I don’t like it.” Thorne strode into Holly’s bedroom moments after her and slapped a hand upon the bedpost. The steel supports clanged at the hit.

  “Nor I.” Bone tired, Holly pulled the pins from her hair. Her head ached and sat heavily upon her tender neck.

  Undeterred, Thorne raised an imperious brow. Times such as these, she could see the aristocrat he might have been. “It is the height of insanity to antagonize Adam.”

  More pins slipped from her hair. “I agree.”

  “Then you’ll refuse to help your cousin?”

  Her hair ambled free of its bun in a curtain of relief. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Damn it, Holly!” Thorne slapped the bedpost again. “I cannot—”

  “Do you wonder,” Holly said softly, for her head throbbed, “who talked Sin into a blood vow?”

  Deflating a bit, Thorne glanced off towards the fire crackling in the grate. “Yes. And I wonder…” He looked at her with dark eyes. “Nan tells me your family is related to the fae.”

  “Nan and her tales,” Holly muttered, annoyed for she knew the cagey housekeeper would love nothing more than to scare Thorne off. “If the fae had any interaction with my family, it was hundreds of years ago, for I’ve never seen them.”

  “Back when the earth was flat, eh?” The corners of Thorne’s eyes crinkled.

  “Just so,” Holly said with a smile of her own. “It isn’t easy for the fae to travel into our world. They must pass through as sprit and then create a corporeal body once here. It takes a great deal of power. Not to mention that those crossroads are well protected, as the reality of fae coming en masse into our world would be catastrophic.”

  Fae were powerful and would subjugate all those weaker than they were, which included not only humans but also a great deal of demons and elementals. Old superstitions had Holly wanting to shudder, but she pushed that back by remembering cool logic. “Luckily, only a catastrophic, magical event, far more rare than the fae themselves, can open the crossroads long enough to let them in.”

  “Amaros came here because of a catastrophic event,” Thorne reminded her. “Does it not stand to reason that the fae might have taken similar advantage?”

  “Damn. I suppose you have the right of it.” Holly sat and removed her shoes. The satin heels landed with a thud on the carpet.

  “If you are related to the fae,” Thorne continued, “then, by logic, Eliza May is also their kin.”

  It made sense. And it made Holly’s heart grow cold. Fae were mercurial beings. For them, everything had a price, and they often requested favors, usually to the extreme detriment of those with whom they bargained. The sane avoided contact with them at all costs.

  “So here we have Nan insisting the fae wanted me to be your champion.” The long lines of Thorne’s body were taut. “Then someone either paid or bargained with the Alamut to let me go tonight.” His eyes met hers. “And now your cousin shows up asking for help to release Eliza May?” The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he gave a small shake of his head. “It is too much of a coincidence for me.”

  “And me,” Holly agreed. Gads, but her body ached. She ran a hand through her hair. “We’ll have to talk to Sin—”

  Thorne was suddenly at her side, kneeling in front of her and taking her hand. “What is this?” Horror lit his expression.

  “What is what?”

  “This!” He lifted her arm. “Your bloody arm is platinum!”

  Holly’s vision wavered as she spied the thick swath of platinum running from her elbow to her underarm. Cold fear and an odd sense of finality pressed upon her insides. She let her arm fall to her lap. “Well.”

  “ ‘Well?’ ” Thorne jumped to his feet. “That is all you have to say?”

  “What ought I say?” The truth was, she didn’t want to talk, or to think.

  “I don’t know.” Thorne raked his hands through his hair. “But something other than ‘well.’ ”

  How irritating that Thorne had suddenly become the logical one, wanting to suss out every problem. Holly bit her lip and refused to answer. Which made Thorne growl.

&nbs
p; “Do not dare try to sweep this under the rug, Holly. Not when we both know what is happening.” Past patience, Thorne lifted his hand, displaying a thin band of shining platinum wrapped around his ring finger.

  “Is that—” Holly began.

  “Your hair. And mine.” Thorne stomped over to the fire, sneered at it, and stomped back towards her. “Like a fool, I held onto some wild hope that this one hair was an anomaly. Yet I am stabilizing, while you’re growing worse!”

  “I had a suspicion that might be the case.” She tried to say this calmly but it didn’t ease him.

  Thorne reached her in a step and clasped her upper arms in a tight grip. The heat of his hands made her skin prickle. “Why is it happening?”

  Holly searched his face, hating the pain and fear she saw in his eyes, hating that she could not fix this. “I do not know.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment, Thorne’s throat worked on a swallow, and then he let her go with a snarl. He paced away, his boot heels clicking on the floorboards. “Bloody fucking hell.” He glared down at his hands, spreading his fingers wide as if they held the answers.

  Holly sagged against the chair. A thought occurred to her, one she did not favor. “I think…” She took a deep, pained breath. “I think that perhaps we are bonding.”

  His head jerked up, and he looked at her with sharp eyes of silver and onyx. “Bonding?” It was a quiet query, but there was something almost hopeful in his voice.

  With cold fingers, Holly clutched the arm of the chair. “Symbiosis. In biological terms, it means simply the living together of unlike organisms. In this case…” God, she didn’t want to say it, but the concept was the most logical conclusion she could formulate.

  “In this case…” Thorne prompted, peering at her warily.

  A spasm of pain shot through her heart. “In this case,” she said, forcing herself to hold his gaze, “it is a parasitic connection.”

  Thorne reared back as if she’d stuck him. “Parasitic?” His voice was thin, cold. And she recalled how sanguis were often accused of being parasites, feeding off the life force of others to survive. It was one of the greatest insults one could use on them.

  “In a fashion,” she managed, though her throat constricted. “One organism benefits at the cost of the other. Your mind gains control through the use of my power. Thus it demands it more and more.”

  He went utterly white, the rivers of platinum upon his neck standing out in sharp, shining contrast. His mouth moved to speak but the words were slow to follow. “I am a parasite to you?”

  Oh, William. Her vision wavered before she quickly blinked. “It is merely a term. Not how I think of you. There was no way to foresee this result.”

  He knelt before her, his thighs moving between her knees as far as her skirts would allow. “But the fact remains, I am draining your power, your strength, to gain mine.” Like an asp he struck, grasping a wavering tendril of her unbound hair. His jaw worked as he held it up between them. Pure, gleaming strands of platinum glinted within the dark locks, as if they were winking. “You are turning into me.”

  Unwilling to see the self-disgust and pain in his eyes, she lowered her lids, her throat sore and her heart unbearably heavy. She wrapped her fingers around his. “All is not lost.” It was something her parents often said, taught to them by theirs. Evernights did not give up. Ever. “I will find a solution.”

  A strangled sound left Thorne’s lips, and his arms wrapped around her waist as he burrowed his head into her lap. “Holly,” he whispered, his breath warm against the fabric of her skirts.

  He gripped her tighter, his touch almost that of a frightened boy, and she instinctively leaned over him, her fingers threading through his silken hair as her free arm wrapped about his shoulders. They sat in silence, holding on to each other, both shivering despite the warmth in the room.

  After a long, heavy moment, he stirred, turning his head to rest his cheek upon her thigh. Holly’s fingers trembled only a little as she traced the line of his temple, brushing back errant strands of his hair. He merely blinked slowly, as if stuck in a fog, and toyed with the dark fringe on her overskirt with the tip of one finger. She felt the touch, his power, all the way to her bones. When he spoke, his voice swept over her like a caress.

  “I am your creature.”

  “No.” She could not bear it if she had to think of him in that manner.

  A small smile curled his mouth but he did not move from his place on her lap. “I am. Wholly.” The tip of his finger moved to her waist where she was slightly ticklish. Her skin prickled as he traced along her side. “I am yours to command, yours to do with what you will.”

  “William.” She gripped his hair, harder than she meant to, but he wouldn’t budge. “You are not. You are not a creature, nor are you my slave.”

  His strange smile only grew. “But what if I want to be?” He lifted his head, and his eyes were ice blue. “What if I want to be claimed by you?”

  Her heart stopped. She still held him, her hand against his throat where his pulse thrummed. Only she could not find the power to speak. Thorne rose to his knees, bringing them eye to eye.

  “Do you not understand?” he whispered. “I have never belonged to anyone. Not since I was a child. It is a lonely thing to be unclaimed by another. The idea that I could be yours seduces me more than you can know.” His lips tilted in a dry smile. “And if the only way I could belong to you is by this strange bond, then I would gladly accept that.” His expression dimmed. “Only now that I know what it does to you, I cannot let it go on. I will not see you hurt.”

  Her grip on him tightened, and somehow she was pulling him closer, until they shared the same air. “I’d rather you belong to me in another way. It shouldn’t be one-sided, this ownership.”

  Thorne drew in a sharp breath and seemed to hold it as he studied her through narrowed eyes. When he spoke, his voice was rough, cracked. “What do you mean?”

  Her mouth went arid. “What if I belonged to you as well?” His arm slid around her waist, hauling her against him as she continued to speak. “What if you had my heart?”

  “As you have mine?” His lips brushed her cheek, his breath unsteady. “Do I, Holly? Do I have your heart?”

  Her smile was tremulous. “You’ve had it all along.”

  Thorne moved to release her, but Holly wrapped her hand around his wrist. “Don’t go.”

  His expression was soft, his voice a warm whisper. “I did not plan to. Let me put you to bed. You are tired.”

  She was. But she did not want to rest. Holly ran her thumb over the pulse-point at his wrist. “William, kiss me.”

  Understanding lit his features, and she knew he realized she needed the comfort he and his body could give her. Slowly, he grinned. “Where?”

  She found herself slowly grinning too. “Wherever you want.”

  “This discussion of your health isn’t over,” Thorne said just before he kissed her mouth. His lids lowered as he gave her another lazy, melting kiss. And then another.

  “Noted,” Holly murmured against his lips. Languid warmth stole over her.

  “Good.” Thorne nibbled on her earlobe. Before returning to her mouth. A low, male growl of contentment vibrated in his chest. He learned the contours of her mouth, exploring it from different angles, never rushing. As though they had all the time in the world.

  The silk of her skirts rustled in the silence as his free hand eased them up. Cool air hit her shins, then her knees. Holly let him ease his body further between her thighs. His breath brushed over her cheek as his palm ran up her thigh.

  Her belly tightened in anticipation, her sex heating as he came closer. At the moment of contact, they both made a strangled, breathless noise. He cupped her, his fingers making a slow circuit through her wetness, and he groaned low and rough.

  “Here.” The blunt tip of his finger breached her, sliding in deep before pulling out slowly. In. Out. “Here,” he said again as he kissed her, “is
where my dreams begin.”

  Holly squirmed, spreading her legs wider as she slumped upon the chair, her aching breasts and heated skin confined by her heavy satin gown.

  “Here is where I want to be,” he whispered. “Always.”

  He added another finger, plunging in deep, invading, retreating. And kissing her. Always kissing her. Holly shivered, followed his lips with hers, trying to make the kiss harder, needing some sort of release. He wouldn’t give it to her, but continued his steady plunder. The pad of his thumb found the swollen bud of her sex, and he stroked her there. The shivers grew within her, moving outward towards her sensitized skin.

  He drank down her little cry of distress. And then he curled his fingers, stroking a spot inside of her. Her orgasm rushed over her with such force that she arched back, her lips slipping from his. A keening wail left her as she gripped the sides of the chair. Still he stroked, his mouth at her ear, whispering dark things, promises of more.

  On and on it went, until spent, Holly lurched forward and clutched his shoulders. For a moment, she could only hold onto him and pant. He pressed kisses along her temple as he withdrew his hand from between her legs.

  “You, sir,” she said between gasps, “are a wicked beast.”

  He chuckled darkly and then lifted her up, cradling her in his arms. The bed dipped as he set her down. In a daze, she let him undo the buttons of her gown, peeling it from her body. A welcome rush of cool air soothed her damp and heated skin. Off came her petticoats and bustle, her silk stockings and drawers, the crumpled corset cover. But when he moved to free her corset, she swatted him away with weak hands.

  “Oh no you don’t.” She eased herself up on her elbows and scowled at his grinning face. “Not when you are fully dressed. Take off your clothes.”

  His grin widened. “Demanding miss, aren’t you?”

  She merely raised a brow. The speed with which he disrobed truly was impressive. As was the sight of him standing before her, utterly unabashed by his nakedness. And why shouldn’t he be?

  She’d seen him before, revealed in parts. She’d touched nearly every inch of him at some point or other. But Will Thorne, viewed all at once, took her breath away. Long and lean, his was not a body of brute strength but of feral grace. Beneath smooth skin, his muscles were so finely wrought, so perfectly delineated, that it would take hours to fully explore every crest and dip. And she knew she wanted to try.