“Call me anytime you need me,” Lincoln said, grinning.
“Thanks,” I told him. I had no idea what the protocol was in this type of situation. Was I supposed to tip him?
“Thank you, Mr. Blake,” Lincoln said as he made his way toward the door. After Lincoln was gone, I covered my face with my hands and shook my head.
“That was so awkward,” I said, dropping my hands and walking into the living room.
“It’ll get easier,” Aiden told me. “You are Lincoln’s only client.”
“Should I pay him after each feeding?” I asked.
Aiden shook his head. “It’s all taken care of. He’s available to you whenever you call him. Should he not be available when you need him, call me, and I will take care of it. And most importantly, never tell him or anyone else what you are.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t help but think that I’d traded one secret existence for another. Instead of worrying about my time running out, now I had to worry about others finding out I was half-vampire. Flora was a small town where everyone either knew me or of me. Keeping this secret was going to be difficult.
“What about Ethan?” Dorian asked. It was the first time he’d spoke since Lincoln came over. “I wouldn’t put it past him to tell the NAWC.”
“He doesn’t know,” I told him. “After traveling through time, Aiden pulled me aside and told me about trying this. I then told Fiona that there was something I needed to try, but didn’t go into details about it. I hate to say this, but I don’t trust Fiona not to tell Ethan, and I don’t trust Ethan.”
Right then, the front door slammed shut, hard. All three of our heads turned toward the kitchen to find Fiona and Ethan. Fiona stood with her arms crossed and she was glaring at me.
“It’s so nice to hear what you really think of me,” Fiona said. “Do you know that I just spent the last four hours convincing my father to get the NAWC off your back? I could have been sleeping, or better yet, gossiping about all your secrets with Ethan.”
“Fiona,” I said, moving toward her, “I didn’t mean you’re not trustworthy. I trust you, but you do tell Ethan a lot of things. This particular secret is the type you take to the grave.”
Fiona snorted. She was still putting on the front of being angry, but I could see the hurt in her blue eyes. “If you told me not to tell, I wouldn’t. You know that.” She waited, and I wasn’t sure if she was waiting for me to say something or tell her my secret. There was no way I was telling her with Ethan standing right there. He was watching me with interest, like he was trying to pluck the secret from my head. Given the fact that just a month ago the NAWC was ready to go to war with the vampires, the NAWC could not find out. Ethan in particular hated vampires, and since he already hated me, he would not be happy to find out I was part witch and part vampire.
“Fine,” Fiona finally said, “don’t tell me. What do I care? I’m moving out anyway.”
“Don’t be like that, Fiona. I’m not keeping it a secret just to keep it from you.”
She held up her hand to stop me from speaking. “Come on, Ethan. We’ll stay at the Inn tonight.” They both turned toward the door.
“You’re overreacting,” I told her.
She stopped and spun around. “I’m overreacting?” She shook her head and looked at me as though she didn’t know me. “You know, before Aiden, and you becoming a spirit walker, we were close. Now everything is about you. Gwen this and Gwen that. Oh! Gwen’s in trouble again. Well, you know what? I’m sick of it.”
It felt as though she had just sucker-punched me in the gut. “It’s not like that.”
“Whatever. I’ll be by to get my things,” Fiona snapped. “Oh, and in case you were wondering, whatever secret you’re keeping, worked. Things are balancing again.” And with that, she and Ethan stormed out of my apartment.
I felt strong hands slide along my shoulders. “She’ll get over it,” Dorian said. I knew he was trying to comfort me, but I wasn’t so sure he was right this time.
SOMEBODY WAS SCREAMING. I shot up in bed, my heart slamming against my chest, and noticed Dorian on his knees. His back arched and lips peeled back over his teeth as painful moans traveled up his throat. He was shirtless, and I could see the ropes of muscle straining against whatever was causing him pain.
“Dorian,” I asked, scrambling out of bed. He faced my window, sunlight streaming in and casting abstract patterns against his sweaty skin. “What’s wrong?”
I kneeled beside him, reaching out my hand and then snapping it back. I didn’t want to touch him if he was in pain, but I didn’t know what to do.
“He’s paying for his infractions,” a woman’s voice said. I looked up, startled. The woman from my mirror stood near my bedroom door. Her long brown hair was half up in an intricate braid circling around her head, and she wore a knee-length green dress with small white polka dots. Now that I had my memories back, I instantly recognized her—Amara.
“This is because he restored my soul?” It looked as though something was tearing him apart from the inside out. Sweat collected along his face, his eyes squeezed shut, and muscles so tight I knew he had to be sore from the strain.
“He was warned,” Amara said. “He broke the rules, not once but twice. When it comes to you, he cannot be trusted to wield such power.”
“But we found a loophole,” I said, my eyes flicking between Amara and Dorian. “My soul has been taken care of.”
“The powers that be are more interested in his loyalty to our rules than one measly soul,” Amara stated. “His actions have proven that he will not abide by our laws.”
Tears blurred my vision. “Are you…killing him?”
Amara walked around my bed and knelt down beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. She smiled and shook her head.
“No, my dear, we’re simply stripping him of his powers. A new vessel will take over as the angel of Death.”
“But he’s in so much pain.” My eyes connected with Dorian’s writhing body again. I felt completely useless, unable to absolve him from the torment consuming him.
“Yes, it’s very painful, but it was his choice.”
I looked up at Amara, shocked. “He chose to have his powers stripped?”
“We gave him twenty-four hours to decide. When he chose not to reap your soul, we made the choice for him. He sacrificed himself so you could live.” Amara clasped my hand. “Love truly is a wondrous thing, is it not?”
I couldn’t speak. The words lodged in my throat and refused to come out, tangled with my breath. I should have known this was a much bigger deal when Dorian told me not to worry about it. I wasn’t sure how long Dorian had been the angel of Death, but I knew it was longer than I could fathom living. I had to hope that part of his decision to strip his powers came from being tired of living for so long. If I believed he had given it all up for me…
Dorian fell onto his hands, his head hanging and his breathing harsh. I watched in horror as black smoke arose from his back. It twined up into the air slowly, stretching outward to form what looked like wings. The smoky wings stretched four feet on either side of his body, undulating and swirling. They were the most beautiful things I had ever seen. Ever so slowly, the smoke lifted upward and drifted away.
“What’s going to happen to him?” I asked, my eyes still locked on Dorian.
“He’ll be free to live and die as he chooses,” Amara replied, her voice soft.
“Will he be…human?” Flora was designed specifically for supernatural beings. If Dorian was human, he couldn’t live here. Would he go back to his townhouse in New Orleans? Would he hate being human and resent me for his choice?
“No, he’ll be a spirit walker like you,” Amara said, rising to her feet. “Look after him. It’s going to be difficult going from the power he used to have to that of your kind.” And just like that, she was gone. My eyes searched my room only to find empty space.
Dorian sat back on his heels and slowly opened his eyes, causing me to gasp. T
he smokiness I’d come to love was gone. His eyes were now the color of whiskey.
“Dorian? Are you okay?”
He let out a harsh exhale, his chest rising and falling heavily as he fought to catch his breath. Beads of sweat collected along his skin, his bare chest glistening against the sunlight.
When I reached out to him, he gripped my wrist and scooped me into his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist and hugging me to his body. I lay my head against his shoulder and listened to his breathing. He was so warm, not a hint of ice clinging to him. I concentrated on the rise and fall of his chest, the heaviness of his breathing.
My eyes had been closed but the sound of blood rushing beneath his skin coaxed them open. My gaze settled on the vein pulsating against his neck, causing my mouth to water. Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss to his throat. My teeth and gums ached as I thought about biting the place where I’d just kissed, seeing if he tasted as good as he smelled.
Afraid of my reaction toward him, I leaned away from his shoulder and closed my eyes. It didn’t matter though; I could still hear the rush of his blood. Lincoln’s blood donation had done its job and completed my transformation. I was now the one thing Ian Despereaux had worked so hard to turn me into—a monster.
Read ahead for a bonus short story from Aiden Blake’s POV.
I took a vote with my street team and they decided they wanted to hear Aiden’s side of the story, what led him to make the choices he made. Enjoy!
Addicted
I TRIED TO curb my annoyance that Louis had brought an entourage with him. My house was full of low-level witches and vampires. I retreated to my office for a breather, but Louis followed along, stating that we had business to discuss. As I took a seat in one of my leather, winged back chairs, Louis sat in the one opposite from me. He hadn’t come alone, though. A woman stood just behind his chair, a smile on her lips for me.
In my pursuit to help Gwen track down the distributor of Brew, I tracked down my old friend Louis. He resided in Chicago and, like me, had a nightclub. It was through contacts that I learned he served Brew under the table. When I called him with the ruse of wanting to sell witch’s blood in Vain, he’d invited himself to Flora.
I had met Louis is Germany a hundred years ago. Like with most vampires, we hadn’t seen each other in almost ten years but still considered ourselves friends. Living lives as long as ours, time separated never hindered our alliances. While Louis was ruthless in his business ventures, I didn’t believe he was the face behind the Brew distribution, but maybe he knew who was. As callous as it sounds, the selling of witch’s blood wouldn’t bother me if not for the fact that I was in love with a witch. This new development put Gwen at risk, stuck a target on her back. One I was willing to do anything to remove.
“Should we get down to business?” I asked. Louis and his entourage had been in my home for the past day, and my patience was growing thin. Not to mention the fear of Gwen showing up to a house full of vampires addicted to witch’s blood.
“You know,” Louis started, gesturing for the woman to come around the chair. “In the day since we’ve been here you haven’t once sampled the product you wish to buy. Call me paranoid, but that’s bad business.”
“My intentions were not out of disrespect,” I told him. “I only wish to serve addicts, not become one. Some may say that’s good business.”
Louis glared at me. “The boss doesn’t trust that sort of business. You either try the product or lose our supply. I don’t need to tell you that the distribution of Brew is a dangerous one. Surely the witches will retaliate for the injustice against their species. The boss does not put his trust in just anyone.”
“You have yet to tell me who your boss is,” I said. “I’m not used to doing business without knowing who I’m in business with.”
Louis gestured for the woman to approach me. Her hips swayed as she closed the space between us. Her long brown hair was plaited and hung over her shoulder, ending just under her breasts. She wore a flimsy blue dress with a flowing skirt that hit mid-thigh and nothing else. I could tell from where I sat that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and I doubted she bothered with panties. She was pretty in an average way, nothing special about her, yet nothing displeasing either. As I stared into her eyes I couldn’t help but compare her to Gwen, which he failed in comparison.
“Drink,” Louis commanded. “And then we’ll discuss the boss.”
I eyed my old friend, knowing I was backed into a corner. I had a very important choice to make. I would either sink my fangs into this woman’s neck or refuse and lose any hope of gaining a name. From what Gwen had told me, Brew only affected younger vampires. It was this little piece of information that made my decision for me.
The woman climbed onto my lap, straddling my waist. My sluggish heart sped up as I wrapped my arms around her waist and sat up, leaning toward her. Louis watched me from his chair, his eyes suspicious.
“I drink and then you tell me who I’ll be buying from?” I just needed a name, something to tell Gwen and Micah, and then this entire Brew fiasco would be over. The perpetrator would be apprehended and everything would go back to normal. Since I only ever drank from live sources, drinking from this woman didn’t make me uncomfortable. What unnerved me was the unknown of what would happen now that the spell protecting witches blood was dissolved.
The woman leaned toward me, placing her throat within range of my mouth. As I stared at the vein pulsating beneath her skin, I wondered why a witch would sell out her own kind and serve vampires. Living for as long as I have, I knew what sort of things desperate people would succumb to. Louis probably paid her well to feed his friends and clients.
Sliding a hand up her back, I held her against me and brought my lips to her throat. My gums swelled as my fangs descended. My eyes caught on Louis right before my teeth broke her skin and hot blood filled my mouth. My eyelids grew heavy with the disparate taste. I’ve drank from witches before, but had never tasted anything like this before. The normal coppery taste was still present, but subtle against the sweetness of magic flavoring the blood. It was so good that I had a split second to wonder if I was even drinking blood. I drank greedily, my arms tightening around the woman’s body to keep her against my mouth. The woman moaned into my ear as she writhed her hips against my pelvis, but sex was the furthest thing on my mind. With each swallow, my nerve endings sparked to life and set me ablaze with the need for more. It was pure magic, wild and earthy—raw.
Addictive.
As that word wiggled its way through my head, I had a moment of clarity. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been drinking from her neck, but I knew if I didn’t stop now, I wouldn’t stop until I was sucking on an empty vein. I’d drain her dry and crave more just to feel the rush of magic twine itself through my system.
Ripping my teeth away from her throat, I shoved her backwards. She fell off my lap but I couldn’t worry about manners while my body acclimated to this new sensation overtaking my body. I felt it everywhere as though a living being possessed every inch of me. My skin buzzed as the magic rushed through my veins. Slumping back in the chair, I closed my eyes and turned myself over to the magic. It was wondrous. For the first time in over six-hundred years I felt alive.
Hands roamed up my thighs. I half opened my eyes to find the woman kneeling between my legs, and Louis smiling as he left my office. He knew this would happen, knew once I drank I would be hooked. I couldn’t seem to find the awareness to worry about it though, not yet.
The woman’s fingers began fumbling with the button on my pants. Her seduction was the only thing that penetrated through the rush. I sat up, gripped her wrist and shoved her away. My pants were tented from the hardness of my cock, but it was Gwen’s legs it wanted between. Even in my state, I knew not to cross that line.
As Gwen crossed my mind, I sobered some. I’d drank from a witch, gotten a taste of the one thing she was trying to end. And I wanted more.
“There’s more than one way I can make yo
u feel good, baby,” the woman cooed. Her fingers brushed over the bulge in my pants, causing me to growl. With the influx of energy, I was definitely in the mood for sex, but the woman’s body didn’t tempt me as much as her blood did. Blood leaked from the puncture wounds on her neck, tempting me closer.
The woman saw me staring at her neck and smiled. If I was in my right mind, I’d say she had a death wish, but as it were, I didn’t care. The red droplets collecting along her skin caused my fangs to lengthen, and my hunger to build.
With a fingertip, the woman reached up and swiped at the blood. Still smiling, she leaned toward me and coated my lips with her blood. My mouth parted as the magic buzzed through my lips, causing them to tingle. After that I had tunnel vision, solely focused on getting more of her blood. I was frantic for it.
***
I stared down at the crumpled body at my feet, confused. Her limbs were sprawled out like a discarded doll, her eyes wide and lifeless. Her once peachy skin was now stark white, her lips blue. And her neck…
I stumbled back until the wall stopped me. My normally sluggish heart pounded with a vengeance, almost painful in its abuse. My body was abuzz with energy, power unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I could feel the magic thrumming beneath my skin, racing through my veins and awakening every nerve ending.
The office door swung open causing my eyes to shift from the dead body. Louis stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Walking closer, his eyes caught on the crumpled form between the two chairs, and he…smiled.
“My, my,” Louis said, his voice amused. “Looks like you enjoyed your sample a little too much.”
“I…I didn’t mean to.”
“It was exhilarating, yes?” Louis asked, stepping around the dead woman to where I stood near the wall. I’m no stranger to killing, but with willing donors nowadays, killing was needless. I was old enough to know when I’d had my fill, and not to let my hunger go to the point of me becoming frenzied. However, her blood was unlike anything I’d ever tasted before. My body demanded every last drop, and I’d taken it.
Hexed (The Gwen Sparks Series Book 4) Page 24