Kick The Candle (Knight Games)

by Genevieve Jack

  With a washcloth, I started with his face, removing the layers of blood, sweat, and what I thought might be tears. He allowed me to do it, didn’t even try to pry the cloth from my hands. I was thankful for that. I wanted to do it.

  I soaped up the cloth and moved to his right hand, scrubbed each finger, circled his palm, up the inside of his wrist to the elbow and back down his forearm before lowering the trail of lather into the water to rinse away. I started on his other hand.

  “There’s something I want to say to you,” I began. I needed to get this off my chest, to begin with a clean slate.

  “I am listening.”

  “The Book of Light showed me some things about our first lifetime together, the day you became my caretaker. When I go back into my memories, I don’t just see what happened, I feel as I did that day. I don’t just remember events, I experience them.”

  He nodded.

  “Rick, I think I pressured you into becoming my caretaker. Clearly you didn’t know exactly what I was or what committing yourself to me entailed. I trapped you, in a way.”

  At my coaxing, he leaned forward so I could wash his back. While I did, I waited for his response. One breath, two breaths, the guilt weighed down my chest.

  “I knew enough,” he finally said. He flopped back down against me as if the effort of sitting was too much for him.

  To give us both a moment, I resumed washing his chest, careful around his wounds, and tried to reposition to reach his legs. He felt what I was trying to do and pivoted, settling across the tub from me, so that we were face to face.

  “You couldn’t have known I would make you my caretaker or how painful it would be,” I said.

  He swallowed, closed his eyes. “There was not a day in my life with you that I thought you were normal. I call you my sky because I’ve always considered you above me, something beyond my understanding.”

  “Hmm. Strange, considering you seem to understand me better than I understand myself most of the time.” I started washing his foot, rubbing my thumb over the arch, moving the soapy rag up his ankle and calf.

  “After your father and your people were killed, you moved to the colony. One afternoon, I met you behind my parents’ barn. You told me your mother had visited you, your real mother, and you tried to explain to me who she was. I didn’t believe you. I hushed your words, fearful you would be charged with blasphemy. You showed me. You picked up a stone from the ground and set it on fire in your palm, then in the blink of an eye made that flame fly away, a bright red butterfly.”

  “I could do that?”

  “You did. I knew you were a witch, mi cielo, even if I didn’t understand who Hecate was. While I didn’t know you were binding me all of those times we were together, and caretaker wasn’t a word in my vocabulary, I knew you were different and if anyone in Monk’s parish found out, both of us would hang or burn. I accepted that most certain fate because the idea of living without you was…unbearable.”

  “Do you regret it? Do you wish I would have allowed the candle to burn down?”

  “Are you sure about marrying me?”

  I locked eyes with him. “As sure as a person can be about a thing.”

  “I don’t regret it.”

  I washed up his inner thigh. A hiss escaped his lips as I reached the length between his legs. Wounded or not, this part of him was responding normally and a warm current rushed through me at the feel of him through the washcloth. I made sure he was clean, stroking his length, around his base, between his legs, until I was so worked up I could hardly think. I tossed the cloth into the corner of the tub. He groaned at the absence of my hand.

  “I need to heal you, first. I don’t want to hurt you,” I said. Gingerly, I shifted in the warm water until my knees landed on either side of his hips. I leaned forward, exposing the length of my neck. “Bite.”

  I heard his lips part, felt his breath on my skin, but he didn’t strike. “I can’t shift yet. I only have my human teeth.”

  Lowering my lips to his ear, I pressed my pulse point to his mouth. “Bite harder.” To demonstrate, I sucked his earlobe between my teeth and bit gently.

  He struck, and it was not gentle. Flashbacks of Julius’s painful bite messed with my head. But this was not Julius, and Rick desperately needed what my body had to offer. He drank greedily. Swallow after swallow created a rhythm I heard and felt against my naked chest, and then the ultimate reward. The wounds between us began to heal, knitting themselves together from the inside out until nothing was left but stripes of pink flesh.

  One last swallow and he lapped over the bite, sealing the wound. My head swam from the loss of blood, but no part of me wanted to give any less than the last drop he needed to take. I knew he’d had enough when he grabbed my backside and lifted me from the tub, wrapping my legs around his hips.

  His eyes were still gray, not black like they usually were when we made love. The beast within was distant, at least for now. It didn’t matter. This man, supernatural or not, wanted me. It wasn’t magic; it was emotion.

  He carried me to the bed and lowered me to my back. His hands caressed from my hips to my bottom rib, thumbs teasing along that erogenous length of bone. I placed a palm on his cheek, guiding his face to mine. Mouths melded, tongues stroked. His capable hand made its way to my breast, stroking, kneading, teasing my nipple until it reached for him.

  Ever so slowly, he lowered his body to mine, never breaking eye contact as he positioned himself. Somehow, even after all of the times we’d made love, this felt like the first. Maybe because I was emotionally bared. I loved him. He knew it. And he loved me in return. Or maybe it was because we were equals. Both human now, but not quite.

  Whatever it was, as his hands stroked up my arms, over my wrists, and meshed with my fingers on either side of my head, he sank into me. The length of him owned me inch by inch, and I gave myself to him fully. In the dim wash of light from the candle in the bathroom, he began to move above me. Gently, ever so gently. This human sex was quiet and soft.

  He trailed kisses down my jaw, over my neck, behind my ear. I melted beneath his touch. As his pace quickened, so did mine. A rush of pleasure played out like a storm through my limbs, winds building and lightning striking from that source of heat at my core. I reached up to snare his lips, kissing him deeper as the tension grew. It wasn’t enough for me.

  I flipped him over on his back, rising above him, allowing the goddess within me to take over. Meeting him thrust for thrust, I lost myself, untamed and reaching to catch the building swell. I came apart, felt him arch and call out as his own pleasure gripped him. Riding out the storm, I eventually found myself again. Shockwaves tipped me forward. I rested my cheek on his chest. After some time, I slipped off him and on to my side. He curled his entire body around mine. Tucking his face into the crook of my neck, he whispered, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I said, and I meant it.

  His breath evened out, and I drifted into a much-needed sleep.

  Chapter 31

  The Favor

  I woke in the circle of Rick’s arms to a loud buzz that I assumed was his alarm. It wasn’t. He was snoring. Snoring! I decided to enjoy it while it lasted. It might be the last time I ever got to see him sleep. With a contortion of my body that would put a ninja to shame, I disentangled myself from his limbs and climbed out of bed. I dressed quietly, retrieving Nightshade from the bathroom. Still, I was surprised to find him asleep when I returned. He didn’t even flinch when I kissed him goodbye on the cheek.

  I left a note on the counter and left for home. Shit. Could I still call it my home? As I walked up my driveway, dead nekomata stained the snow to my left and right, signs of Rick’s bloody battle apparent all around me. A gaping hole had replaced my front door. What did I expect? Kai, or the nightmare controlling his body, and Naill were certainly not going to close up shop before they kidnapped me. I trudged over the mound of snow that had collected on my threshold, and had a second to consider what the w
et stuff was doing to my hardwood floors. My phone, still parked in its charger next to the stove, began to ring. U2’s Mysterious Ways and Dad’s picture blasted at me from the screen. I stepped over the bodies piled at the bottom of the stairs, grimaced at Seraphina’s half shifted form at the base of my kitchen island, and answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Grateful! Finally. Are you still avoiding my calls? I know you’re angry but—” Dad’s voice sounded raw and gritty, like maybe he was getting sick.

  “No. Just needed a good night’s sleep and turned the ringer off. Listen Dad, I’m sorry I was so hard on you before. I was just disappointed about losing the house.”

  “Grateful, something terrible has happened.”

  The sound of a footstep in my foyer brought my attention to the hole in my wall. Silas Flynn, dressed in a brown suit and tie, stepped over one of the bodies and met my eyes.

  I nodded my hello.

  He gestured toward my driveway and two monstrous men came inside. They had broad foreheads and biceps the size of tree trunks. Although they looked human, something inside me was hiccupping ‘ogre.’ One smiled a mouthful of razor sharp teeth in my direction. Yep, ogres.

  “A Detective Silas Flynn called me this morning,” my father said, voice breaking. I placed a hand over my mouth. Dad was crying. “Seraphina and her uncle Kai were killed in a car accident last night. She had my information in her purse…” His voice trailed off.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. For more than I could safely say.

  “How could this happen, Grateful? One day here, the next day gone. Life is… fleeting. She was… I didn’t love her, but I could have. We had something.”

  “Aww, Dad.” My eyes misted over, even as the two men loaded Seraphina’s stiffening body onto a stretcher and carried her toward the door.

  “The guilt…Before she’d left for the night we’d talked about her moving out. What if something I did, our fight, somehow distracted her?”

  I walked to the window and watched the men load the body into a large box truck. “That can’t be true. You said she was with her uncle Kai. Who was driving? He wouldn’t have allowed her to drive if she was upset.”

  He sobbed.

  Hell, this was killing me. “I’m so sorry, Dad. Do you need me to come down there?”

  “No. I’ve just got to pull myself together. Detective Flynn said he’d be notifying the rest of the family. I just hope they include me in the service. Besides Kai, I never met any of them.”

  “Mmhmm.” What could I say? I was pretty sure the entire family was being piled in the back of the truck.

  “Dad, I don’t know how to bring this up, but what will happen with the house?”

  He gave a deep sigh. “Kai’s lawyers included a clause in the contract that in case of death on or before the closing date, the property would revert to the seller. Some folks do that to avoid adding debt to the estate. The house is mine. I know how much you wanted it. If you still want to buy it, it’s for sale again.”

  I frowned, my heart breaking at the sadness coming over the airwaves. “Thank you, Dad. I’m truly sorry for your loss. I still want the house. Give me a week to get my finances in order. I’ll pay full market price.”

  “I still don’t know why you want it so badly, but after almost losing you over this sale, I’m not going to fight you anymore. You’re all the family I have, sweetheart. Please tell me all is forgiven.”

  “All is forgiven,” I said, and I meant it. I missed him, and I needed him.

  “I’ll see you at Christmas,” Dad said.

  “Wait, Dad, is it okay if I bring a guest?”

  He coughed. There was a long pause. “I thought it would be just the two of us.”

  “It could be, if that’s important to you. But there’s someone special in my life. I’d like you to meet him.”

  “Who?”

  “Er, Rick. The caretaker of the cemetery. We’ve been dating.”

  Another long pause. “Sure. Why not? Bring him.” That was the real estate agent voice, held together by a plastered-on smile. The timing wasn’t great with his girlfriend freshly dead and, based on my trail of failed relationships, he probably thought this one was doomed as well. But I was sure he’d come around once he knew how serious Rick and I were.

  We said our goodbyes and I tapped the screen just as Poe flew in through my front hole and landed on the banister. The ogres carried out the last body, and Detective Silas Flynn approached me, handing me a piece of paper.

  “A bill?” I asked, defensively.

  “The Malmot brothers don’t work for free. That price includes disposal and cover-up.” Silas raised his bushy eyebrows and shrugged.

  “Twenty-two hundred dollars!”

  He slapped me on the shoulder. “You have thirty days to pay. And just so we’re clear, you don’t want to stiff the Malmot brothers.” The corner of Silas’s mouth tugged downward. “Good to see you again, Grateful.”

  I nodded dumbly, staring at the bill as he slipped back out the door. I watched him climb into the box truck with the Malmot brothers and back down the drive.

  “Not that I don’t love the open air feel of the place, but maybe we should call someone to fix this,” Poe said.

  Yes. The door. My door. To my house. Needed to be fixed. I stared at the mountain of melting snow in my foyer for a minute, then at the shards of wood and metal scattered across the house. I let out a deep breath. “Let me try a trick I learned.” I raised a hand under my chin, and picturing my foyer as it once was, I called all of the magic I could muster from the house and my night with Rick. I blew. Air left my lungs and tornadoed toward the foyer, picking up snowflakes and ushering them out the door. Slivers of wood lifted from the floor and implanted themselves back into my walls. The door stood up and walked itself back into place, followed by the etched glass oval that melded and became whole again.

  Again and again, I huffed and puffed, until the last gust of air seeped from my lungs and my foyer was restored.

  “Wow,” Poe said. “Practically a miracle.”

  “No. Just practical magic.”

  I made for the stairs. “Take the day off, Poe. I’m going Christmas shopping.”

  “If you insist.” He didn’t sound disappointed. “I’d love to try guinea pig if you’re asking.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him and turned the corner for my room.

  * * * * *

  Several hours later, I arrived at Maison des Étoiles, arms laden down with gifts. My feet ached like my boots had a vendetta against me, and the handles of the shopping bags cut into my skin, even through my thick wool coat. I would have loved to go straight home, maybe with a side trip to Rick’s, but I needed to check on the book first.

  This was the first time I’d come through the front door. I supposed I wasn’t Soleil’s regular clientele but I could appreciate the allure of the place. A stone walkway, lined with ornate lampposts, traversed a wrought-iron fenced lawn. A blanket of pristine snow glistened, reflecting the bright colors of the leaded glass in the lampposts. When I reached the oversized red door, there wasn’t a traditional doorbell. After searching for an alternative, I yanked a chain dangling to my left. An old-fashioned doorbell rang inside.

  With slight complaint from its hinges, the door opened and a petite blonde with unnaturally green eyes welcomed me. The silver swath of fabric wrapped around her petite body seemed to defy gravity. I stepped into the foyer.

  “Soleil is waiting for you in her room. That way,” the fae said, pointing.

  I followed her directions, down a hallway lined with judges paneling, sophisticated oil paintings, and red damask curtained doorways that led to the clean lines of well appointed parlors. The place was Wild West meets east coast chic. Sophisticated, but clandestine.

  The light filtering from under the door at the end of the hall told me I was in the right place. I knocked as a courtesy but let myself in. Gold heat washed over me. Soleil’s room was white on white with
the only color coming from the hundreds of plants and flowers growing from pots lining the walls. The place reminded me of a Greek garden of the gods. Fitting, I thought, considering Soleil could rival Apollo. A sculpture of a brass sun spit water into a pool to my left. Soleil herself stood in front of a window overlooking the back yard, shining so brightly in her gold and white dress I could hardly bear to look directly at her.

  “Good afternoon, Grateful. Thank you for coming.”

  I set my bags down and gave her a quick hug hello. “No problem, Soleil. I was in town anyway. Good to see you looking like your old self again.”

  She blinked slowly. “Yes. I am thankful for your help, once again.”

  “So, where is it?”

  “I’ve sealed it here.” She pointed to a slab of marble that looked no different than the rest of the floor and passed her hand over it. “Only sunlight can open it.” The square levitated and I squatted to get a clear view of the Book of Flesh and Bone inside the vault underneath.

  “Good.”

  “You may take it now,” she said. “I will hold it open for you.”

  I stood, shaking my head and stepped back. “It needs to stay here.”

  Her eyes flared and the marble tile dropped noisily back into position. “No, no, no. You can not leave this here!”

  “It’s the safest place, Soleil. The vampires wouldn’t dare search here for this and my home isn’t safe, not when Naill, Bathory, and Julius are still walking the streets of Carlton City. Not to mention, there could be relatives of the nekomata clan out there who still know its original burial place.

  “But Bathory and Julius will suspect I have it.”

  I stepped forward and took her hands. “You promised me a favor.”

  Calm washed over her, and she searched my eyes. “Are you sure? The wish could be used for your own personal gain, material things, relationships…children.”

  The last hit me hard. I couldn’t have children with Rick. For a moment I was tempted to save the wish for myself. Then I thought about Bathory getting her hands on the book.