by Gina Shafer
She’s been on my mind a lot lately and today especially. Scarlett is pregnant. She’s due any day now, and she and her husband have been discussing baby names. If it’s a girl it will be Rayna, but they’re having trouble with boy names. Marcel, Soren, Ted, Xo, and I are sitting in a circle by the bonfire out back, and most everyone has given suggestions.
I haven’t.
It’s not that I haven’t thought of any, believe me…I have. I kind of look at Scarlett as the sister I never had. But something holds me back, and I don’t pretend to understand what that is. When I was a little girl, my life was simple. My grandma basically raised me until the age of ten, and even before then, I remember being with her more often than not. My mother used to be normal, good even, up until the point where her hunger for more magic took every last ounce of goodness that lived inside of her. The simplicity that was my life twisted and bent into something so complex that I have never been able to undo all the knots that were left behind. My mother’s hunger burned her in more ways than one, and I wasn’t lucky enough to get away from her without getting singed myself.
After Marcel, one of the leaders of this Sicarri division, found me and took me to the warehouse, everything changed for me. I was raised to fight and to protect the innocent. It was something that gave me purpose and allowed me to focus on something other than my crippling fear that my mother would someday come after me. I should have known that I wasn’t even a blip on her radar, honestly. She forgot me so easily, though I never once forgot to remember her.
When I was older and more skilled in fighting, I spent months tracking her down. My fears and anxiety were at their peak at this point, and I couldn’t imagine another day looking over my shoulder, waiting for her to finally show her face. When I finally did find her, it wasn’t what I expected. She was living in squalor, hunkered down with a man different from the one who’d helped her attack me. Her skin had patches of burns, like she was days away from turning into a shadow-walker. It didn’t matter to me though. I managed to turn off every single one of my emotions when I drove my sword through her heart, like I would have any other shadow-walker I came across.
To this day I remember the look on her mangled, half-burned face when she realized it was me… that I was there to take her life, the way she’d wanted to take mine when I was a child. I never could figure out what that made me. Was I a monster for doing what I did to her, or was I the hero, finally exacting my revenge? All I really wanted was to sleep at night.
The thought of motherhood still makes my skin crawl at times. I’m terrified of ever becoming a mother. At the same time, I’m completely crushed that I won’t have the chance. I close my eyes when a tear threatens to escape. The confusion, the constant war that ensues in the deep recesses of my mind—it’s tiring, exhausting even. I don’t share it with anyone—not even the one man that makes my world turn.
“Hey, you,” Elijah whispers as he comes up behind my chair and leans in, giving my neck a light kiss.
Elijah entered my life at a time when I least expected to find love; I was even coming to terms with the fact that I truly believed I would never find someone to share my life with. Being Sicarri, it’s not easy maintaining a relationship, and it’s not like we’re chomping at the bit to bring children into this world. It isn’t easy having a constant target on your back, but worrying that an innocent child could catch the shrapnel that flies when you finally do get hit… it’s not something I’m waiting to experience.
Still, when I look at Scarlett and Micha, I see why, for some people, it’s worth it. And my heart aches for them.
“Hey you, back,” I say once I’ve cleared my throat of the emotion stuck there. He doesn’t buy it though. Instead he pulls back, frowning at me for a moment before peering around the group. Understanding dawns across his face and he sighs.
Ever so sweetly, he whispers into my ear, “You’re everything to me.” He punctuates every word with a kiss just under my earlobe. I can tell that Elijah knows there’s a storm brewing inside me tonight. I’m usually not one to lay out all my cards, but he has this way of knowing what’s going on in my head just by looking into my eyes. It’s unnerving and comforting at the same time.
“Mm, keep going,” I say, laughing lightly.
He lets out a tiny chuckle and then utters, “If I keep going, we’re going to have to move upstairs.” That incites another laugh from both of us. It’s been difficult at times to let myself be happy with him. The way our relationship started, and the speed with which we fell for each other, isn’t normal, and neither of us pretends it is. But we’ve accepted it for what it is: love. It’s as simple as that. After everything we’ve been through, don’t we deserve that?
It almost feels unnatural to be laughing with each other. For weeks after his fight against the demons and killing Abe, he wasn’t much like himself. He told me that Vara, his ex-wife, the mother of his son and a raging demon bitch, showed herself after he plunged his dagger into Abe. The other Sicarri were skeptical, to say the least, since Elijah has a history of hallucinating his ex. But our group, the ones sitting around this fire, we believe him.
I believe him.
We even executed a few missions in search for her but everything came up short. The bitch hasn’t shown herself.
Elijah pulls a chair close to mine and wraps his arm around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze before picking up the coffee mug at his feet. “What are you thinking about?” he asks as I stare angrily into the fire.
I shake my head and give him a smile. “Just that I love you,” I answer. Vara has become a bit of a sore subject between us. It’s mostly my fault; I keep prying and pushing Elijah to admit there’s unfinished business there. He refuses, and I don’t blame him. I tell myself he’ll talk when he’s ready, and that I should leave him be, but that’s easier said than done. Especially when you’re as impatient as I am.
“Well, I’m sorry that loving me makes you so angry,” he teases, sipping his coffee and bumping his shoulder against mine. I stick my tongue out at him before I lean in for a kiss, loving the taste of coffee on his lips.
“I’m just frustrated with our missions lately,” I answer truthfully. One mission in particular. We were gone for days, chasing a lead that someone in one of the safe areas had seen a demon woman with wild red hair. When I heard the news, I’d wanted to march in there, guns blazing, but Elijah and Soren thought better of it, and instead we waited her out. Turns out it wasn’t Vara. It was just another demon, looking to pick off an unburnt that had strayed from one of the spelled areas. Elijah took care of the demon anyway. These days we have no mercy for any demon we come across, with one exception….
Lincoln.
When Elijah told me what he saw Lincoln do in that room, disappear and reappear in an entirely different location, I had no idea how to respond. I’ve never heard of that type of magic, and I’ve been pouring through all the Sicarri archives I can get my hands on, hoping to find even a shred of information that can help us find out what Lincoln is and what he’s capable of. When I was growing up, magic wasn’t something to be boasted about. It had become something almost shameful, only used when absolutely necessary for safety. I never learned about any kind of magic like Lincoln’s.
These days, Lincoln is mostly tightlipped about everything, and I’m surprised at how annoying that is to me. When Elijah first turned up from his twenty-year-long sleep, Lincoln wasn’t shy about sharing the information we needed. Lately, he only talks to one person… Soren.
Soren confuses me, and I still have a hard time trusting him, which drives Elijah crazy. I can’t help it. Soren was so important to me—a confidant, the brother I never had—and it’s hard for me to come to terms with his old self being gone. I search the faces around the fire until I settle on Soren’s new ones. Willow settles at his feet. She was the first to accept him, with absolutely zero hesitance.
When I take in Soren’s features, I can’t help but notice the differences between him now and h
ow he used to be. I understand what had to be done, and I’ve even forgiven him for not telling us that he was working up a plan with Lincoln. When Lincoln stabbed Soren and then Soren had to jump into the nearest body, it’s almost like a part of him really did die. I just can’t put my finger on what part.
“Is that all you’re frustrated with?” Elijah asks. His voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I realize I was just viciously staring down his son. Shit, what is wrong with me?
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the thick smoke the fire is putting off. I want to cough, but I don’t. I hold it in for a moment, imagining the smoke coursing through my limbs, trying to block out the memory of the one face that haunts me wherever I go: my mother.
And all at once, we’re back to her. Damn, this situation is doing wonders for my psyche.
“Karina.” Elijah speaks a little louder this time, worry thick in his voice because I haven’t answered him.
I flinch when I hear it. Elijah’s love for me still surprises me. It’s taken time to get used to the amount of love I feel for him. Sometimes it still makes me uncomfortable to be so vulnerable. “I’m sorry…I’m just battling some things. I didn’t mean to ignore you,” I say, watching the frown grow deeper around his mouth through every word. I hate that my mood has just gone in so many different directions in the span of only a few minutes.
“Don’t apologize. Share your crazy with me.” He smiles, repeating the same words I once used on him when I wanted him to tell me about his nightmares. He’s still plagued by them, and every single time he wakes from one, I make it a point to get him to share it with me. Saying what happened out loud, naming what haunts you, somehow makes it better.
“Can we go upstairs?” I’m uncomfortable at the idea of sharing my thoughts in the open. I consider the Sicarri family, but this is way too personal for a night fueled with beers and bonfires.
In answer, Elijah stands and holds his hand out to me. When my small fingers touch his open palm, calmness washes over me. I’m safe in these hands. I take another deep breath, but this time I imagine fresh air cleansing my insides. I lead the way upstairs. Elijah keeps his hands around my waist the entire way up, weakening me and feeding my desire for him at the same time.
Once we make it to the top landing, my body is on fire for him. His fingertips, brushing against the sensitive skin of my stomach, have me shaking, and Elijah, as sharp as he is, notices.
“Karina, is there something wrong? You can talk to me, you know,” Elijah questions.
I throw myself on him like he’s the only thing keeping me balanced. I cling to his shoulders, kissing, nipping, and sucking on his neck until I feel the rumble of his groan emanating from his chest pressed firmly against mine.
That groan gets me every time, and I shiver when he guides me into the bedroom and spins, shutting the door behind him. It’s like he’s a barrier between the outside world and me. I’m startled by how much comfort I gain from that thought.
When I peer up into his eyes, I expect to see lust, darkness, the pure sexual tension I feel radiating off his hot skin.
I don’t.
I’m not sure what emotion I see hiding behind his coffee-colored irises, but I know for certain he’s not buying my bullshit like I’d thought. I should have known I couldn’t sneak much by Elijah. We’ve become so in tune with each other that it’s slowly becoming more and more difficult to keep my demons buried. Pun intended.
“Explain,” he says, rather harshly.
I’m surprised by his tone. Have I made him angry? The furrow in my brow deepens. I’m manic, I know it. I can feel it. I don’t like it, but I’m also having trouble fighting against it.
“Baby, if you don’t tell me what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours, I’m just going to start jumping to conclusions,” he says, softer this time.
“It’s nothing, Elijah.” I start, but I swiftly clamp my bottom lips between my teeth when I notice his him eyes squint. I don’t want to lie to him. I find that Once the words begin to leave my mouth, they fly like birds spooked by the echo of a gunshot.
“Okay fine, it’s everything. All of this has been so much. Soren returning. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be happier about it, but it’s been so much of an adjustment.” I’m pacing the room now, covering the floor with my quick footsteps and dodging the furniture as I go. “Not to mention that tensions are higher than ever with Scarlett and Micha expecting a baby any minute now. And—” I stop my words in their tracks, like my tongue has slammed on the breaks. I even feel my jaw clench.
“And what?” Elijah grabs my arm and spinning me softly into his chest. “Talk to me, please,” he says, cupping his palm around my jaw and piercing me with his eyes.
I melt under his gaze for a second. “Vara,” I spit out, ruining the moment.
His hand drops from mine like he’s stuck it directly into wildfire. He takes one deep breath, letting the air escape from his lungs on a sigh.
“Karina.”
I feel myself wishing we could go back in time to only a few seconds ago, to when he wanted me so unabashedly. I feel guilty somehow, bringing her up. But then again… he asked. “I know, I know. But just think about what she said to you last time you saw her.” I keep pushing, pushing, and pushing him away. He’s on the other side of the room now. “I think she still wants you. She waited all this time to return to you. What else could there be? Do you think she could be working for another demon? Do you think you could—” I cut myself, mostly in fear of what could come out.
Do you think you could forgive her? Do you think you could still love her? And what does her return mean for us?
“Karina,” Elijah says, snapping me from my thoughts. “I love you. Okay? I fucking love you with every piece of me. I didn’t expect this to happen. I never would have guessed that my life would take this turn, but please, please, hear me when I tell you I love you, that you are it for me.”
He is so serious in this moment that my eyes fill with tears. He shouldn’t have to tell me this; he shouldn’t have to work so hard. He has me. Instead of telling him so, I simply cross the room and pat my fingers right over his heart, which has been a comforting signal of our love for each other since the first time I did it.
He shows me he understands by kissing my lips lightly, grazing the bottom one with his teeth. “Now can I have you?” he whispers, trailing kisses from my jaw to the hollow space behind my ear.
My heart picks up right where we left off, hammering deep within my chest. I nod, moaning softly when his tongue darts out and swirls against the vein pumping in my throat. His hands glide from the middle of my back down to my ass, gripping it hard. I can tell he’s in no mood for patience tonight, and I couldn’t be more excited.
He moans again when his fingers dive into my pants from behind, and he realizes I’m not wearing any underwear. I smile up at him, and he goes still.
“You realize I’m incapable of taking it easy on you tonight, yeah?” he says, licking his lips and running his eyes up my body.
This. This is exactly what I need right now, and Elijah knows it. I have so much brewing inside of me, like a storm on the edge of land, but I’m not ready to talk about it any more than Elijah is ready to listen. So instead he offers a distraction, and I love him more for it.
“I’d be disappointed if you did.” I bite my lip and then unbutton my pants, kicking them off in his direction. When he notices my suddenly feisty mood, it doesn’t take him long to catch up.
“Lie on the bed,” he orders, smacking my ass when I don’t immediately follow his orders.
“Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a bunch.” I laugh, settling into the cozy blankets on our bed. I’ve been staying in this room with Elijah for a few months. He says he sleeps better when I’m next to him. I haven’t told him my nightmares have occurred less frequently since we made the move.
“Ah, and what would you know about panties? You seem to be adverse to wearing them.” He
laughs, gripping hold of my ankle and pulling me to him at the foot of the bed. Wetness pools between my legs, and all I want is for him to climb on top of me and make me feel good for the rest of the night.
“So silent all of a sudden,” he teases.
He wants to play games, but I’m far past that point. I’m so turned on, it almost hurts, and my shirt hasn’t even come off yet. At that thought, I sit up, tugging off my sweatshirt and the tee underneath and throwing them on the floor behind Elijah. I’m so ready for him, but he’s still dressed. This won’t do. I need to get him naked and fast. I know exactly how to do it.
“Mm, I can only remember two words. Fuck and me,” I tell him slowly as I fall back against the bed. His eyes flare, and I can tell he wasn’t expecting that. We’ve had our fair share of encounters in the bedroom and experimented quite a bit, and I’ve learned he loves it most when I’m mouthy.
He’s watching me, no doubt wondering how far I’m willing to go. Little does he know, I’m so insanely turned on that I would probably let him do anything he wanted to me. I’m naked, sprawled across the mattress, nearly writhing before his hands even touch me. His gaze binds me to the bed, and he follows my fingers like he’s a starving man and they’re his last meal. I glide my fingers up my thighs, grazing ever so slightly across my center, letting out a soft moan when I feel the most sensitive part of me. I throw my head back and clench my eyes shut, slipping a finger inside myself.
It’s the second moan that does him in. He’s bare and on top of me in the next moment, and I feel him kiss his way up my body, stopping at my breasts for a few moments before he kisses my neck and situates himself at my entrance.