Damn it.
Connor’s gift consisted of being able to block guests from trying to enter any property he protected with his mind. And if they came in person, he handled them as well. His record remained—or had been, anyway—undefeated. No one could get around him; he was infallible.
The key word being was.
Isaac had a very powerful gift as well. He could, in essence, control the weather. A sunny day could turn into a turbulent tornado at the blink of an eye. When he got too emotional, or out of control, the weather matched. The first few years of this life had been quite disastrous. Many villages had been destroyed by his anger. It took years for him to manage it, but he had gotten to the point where he could easily stay under control.
Or he had been, until Sabrina walked into his life a few weeks ago. Now, nothing felt under his control.
The ground shook from the force of the thunder overhead as he contemplated Elijah’s growing power. His brother’s gift had always been his speed and strength. But…now he disguised himself as well.
So he was not only up against an unarguably superior opponent in speed and strength, but also one immune to his defenses?
Shit, shit, shit.
Kicking a tree, he stalked into the dark woods. Sabrina’s screams from her nightmare echoed in his head, no matter how far he walked.
Come on, man.
“Connor? Get over here.” His voice came out so soft a human would not hear it.
Sensing Connor’s presence, he swung to face him and scowled. Connor smiled sheepishly.
“Sorry about earlier. I ran into the side of the house. I thought I had more room, but obviously calculated wrong. Did she see me?”
“Yes, but it’s okay. I took care of it.” He snapped as he waved his hands. “What I really want to know is how Elijah managed to get to Sabrina. Didn’t you sense him? Try to block him? What happened?”
Isaac knew he sounded like an ass. He didn’t care.
“Wait, what? Elijah has been nowhere near here, I’m sure of it. I would have known.” Isaac watched as anger, disbelief, and finally shock crossed his friend’s face. “No. No way he came here. Even now I can’t sense his presence. You’ve gotta be wrong. It’s not possible,” he whispered.
It was as bad as he’d feared. Connor couldn’t even sense Elijah had been here, yet alone whether or not he remained here? The world would go to hell in a freaking hand basket.
Lovely.
Lightning and thunder crashed overhead.
***
The next day, Sabrina yawned for the fifth time in one minute before giving up and heading into the kitchen. Time for another cup of coffee.
A damn storm had killed any chance she had of getting any sleep last night. Where the hell had it come from, anyway? As she inhaled the hazelnut aroma steaming from her mug, she contemplated her dilemma. Isaac had left this morning after an admonishment to be careful, which she knew translated to do not let Elijah in.
A knock sounded at the door. Weird, she hadn’t been expecting anyone. She grabbed the knife off the island, just in case, and went to open the door. She gripped the doorknob and froze. She didn’t need to wonder who stood on the other side. Elijah.
She could sense him.
Why could she sense Elijah, without even seeing him, but Isaac could walk up behind her and grab her, and she’d be none the wiser?
Why would she sense his soul, his essence, calling to her from the other side of the door?
And why did it feel like such a betrayal?
Oh, right. Because it was.
She should be attached to Isaac, the man from her real life. Not the one that haunted her dreams. Yet, even knowing she should avoid him at all costs, some invisible pull led her to wrench the door open.
She studied him by the light of day for the first time. Though his eyes and features were identical to Isaac’s to the casual observer, Elijah was distinctly different. His face seemed harder, more cynical. Like he had seen and done it all already—and life no longer held any fun for him. His mouth also appeared to be set tighter than Isaac’s, and his body held more tensely. She wondered if he always looked so harsh.
So dangerous.
Realizing she gaped at him, she burst out, “Why are you here?”
“Please, you’ve let him talk to you. Why not give me a chance?”
“Because I don’t trust you,” she stated flatly.
Anger crossed his eyes. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and ran his fingers through his hair as he clenched his teeth. “Sabrina, it’s not without danger that I have come to you. For once, can you listen to me, and let me in?”
“Why can’t we talk like this?” She motioned her hand to show what she meant: him outside, and her safely inside.
“I can’t stay out here in plain sight.”
She stared at him as she chewed on her lower lip. He made sense. If she listened to Isaac and let him in her house…why not Elijah as well? What harm could it do to hear both sides of the story, so to speak? Any intelligent woman would seek out both sides. Wouldn’t they?
Damn right they would. Making up her mind, she nodded. “Elijah, please, come inside.”
He smiled at her, causing her to catch her breath in apprehension. Had she just made a horrible mistake?
“Thank you for allowing me in your home, Sabrina. I promise you, I am not here to hurt you. I would never want to hurt you.” His stare beseeched hers as he held her gaze and did not let go. He leaned closer to her, and she softened.
“I believe you.”
Walking into the living room, she knew he followed despite the fact that his footsteps were as quiet as his brother’s. She started in surprise when she saw him sitting on the couch before she even neared it, however. Taking care to place the knife obviously in arm’s reach, she perched on the edge of the couch, resting her hands uneasily in her lap. “This is all very, um, new for me. I’m sure you understand my confusion.”
“Yes, of course. I will try to tell you what is happening, but I’m scared to tell you too much. You might get frightened away. Some of it is not…normal.” Tilting his head to the side with a somber expression, his gaze bore into hers so intensely she flinched and looked away. “Also, I am unaware of what Isaac has already told you.”
“How about if I ask the questions, and you answer them? No lying, though, or I kick you out and never let you in again,” she demanded. She waited for his nod of agreement, crossing her arms across her chest. “How old are you?”
He relaxed, an amused expression crossing his face. As he grinned, she saw a dimple flash her way. “Twenty-seven.”
“Hmm…and what year were you born? I’m bad at math,” she lied.
The amusement vanished and coldness took over his features again. “You really want to ask that one?” He spoke between clenched teeth. “I don’t think you do.”
“Actually, I do,” she insisted. “I certainly didn’t invite you here to discuss the weather.”
“Oh, and how has the weather been, Sabrina?”
“Stormy.” Her voice rose at his odd question. Who the hell cared what the weather had been like?
“I’ll bet,” he scoffed.
She studied him curiously. It sounded almost as if he had some hidden meaning behind his words, one she wasn’t privy to. She pushed aside her confusion at his derision and looked at him, making a great show of dragging her eyes from him to the door. “Now that we’ve discussed the weather, answer my question.”
“Sabrina,” he ground out. “I already did. Twenty-seven.”
“Did you come here to lie to me? To play games? Time for you to leave. Now.” She rose to her feet and glared at him. She was done. This whole situation seemed ridiculous. When he didn’t leave, she put her hands on her hips and leaned closer to him. “I said get out.”
He mumbled something, and she leaned in closer. “What did you say?
“I was born in eighteen-fifty-four!” he yelled. “Is that clear enough fo
r you, my lady?”
Shock filled her at his answer, and she collapsed back onto the couch. She’d been expecting something like this, but to hear it out loud still struck her like a blow. Things like this didn’t happen. Well, maybe it did in movies and novels, but not in real life.
Man up, Sabrina. No time for shock.
“What are you?”
“I won’t—can’t—say. It’s not possible. So, you might as well move onto the next question. You can threaten all you want, but I can’t answer you.”
She stared at him, trying to make sense of his words. He hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell her, but he couldn’t. Why? An order, a covenant, or did he just not know?
Interesting….
“Okay. Give me a second here….” She rested her head on her left hand, rubbing her temple as she racked her brain for her next question. She tried really hard not to dwell upon the one question he couldn’t answer. She had been sure what his answer would be, yet even in fiction she had never heard of a vampire not being able to admit his secret. Could she be wrong?
Was he something else?
Stop wasting time and get your answers.
“Why couldn’t you come inside until I invited you in? And why come into my dreams, instead of talking to me the normal way?”
“I can’t come in until you let me.”
“And once invited, can I kick you out?”
“No, once you invite me in, you can’t rescind it.” His smirk did nothing to hide his satisfaction at sharing the small detail with her.
“Well, that would have been some useful information. Don’t you think?”
“Useful for whom? Not me.” He smirked, and she itched to wipe it off his face. “And I never came to you in the daytime, because Isaac had already wormed his way into your life. If it weren’t for him, none of this would be happening.”
“So you blame Isaac for everything, huh?” she asked curiously. “Interesting. I had the impression things went down the other way.”
“Meaning, of course, I’m a horrible monster, and he’s an angel? Of course, gentle Isaac could never do any wrong.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re wrong. Dead wrong. You placed your trust in the wrong man, my dear.”
“Hmm, I’m not so sure about that.” Hesitantly, she continued. “You and Isaac both cared for Amelia. Right?”
He nodded. “Yes, of course.”
“You fought. He seems to blame you for her death. Did you…kill her?”
Anger, pain, and finally resignation crossed his eyes before he whispered, “Yes.”
She choked on a breath and coughed in an attempt to inhale. She’d been so sure he had to be good, that he couldn’t possibly be the evil monster Isaac seemed to believe him to be. But if he was guilty of murder, she had just invited a murderer in her home.
Oh God, what have I done?
Remembering to breathe, she leaned imperceptibly away from him. He tensed at her action, but she didn’t care. She needed to get out. Smiling, she said, “I’ll be right back. I need some coffee.”
She rose from the couch, making sure she moved in a non-run-for-your-life-manner. Hearing him curse behind her, Sabrina reached for the knife in blind panic. Her hand barely brushed the handle before she got thrown through the air and buried beneath him on the couch. She managed to throw one solid punch to his ear, and he grunted in pain as he pinned her arms above her head.
“Jesus, knock it off! That bloody well hurt,” he exclaimed.
“Let go of me,” she snarled. “Or you’ll hurt even more.” She threatened him, trying to free her knee from between his. He cursed and pinned it down under his leg as he looked at her in something akin to horror. No matter, she had all day to kick his ass.
“No, wait, please don’t be scared. Let me explain. You can’t leave. I can’t let you. I’m sorry.” Though his voice pleaded with her, his face looked like it had been set in granite.
In fact, he felt as heavy as stone as well.
And just as unmovable.
“I’m not scared, you ass. I’m pissed. Let me up, now!” She squirmed beneath him, fighting for freedom, until she froze and her eyes widened in shock. That, she knew, was not stone. It was an erection, pure and simple.
She drew a deep breath, prepared to scream at the top of her lungs. He must have sensed her intentions, because he cursed and swallowed her cries into his mouth. His lips moved over hers, stealing her breath away. Panic overwhelmed her, and she thought with certainty that she would soon die. She would die because, like an idiot, she’d ignored Isaac’s warning.
Anger ripped through Sabrina like a knife, and she lay still, afraid to move. It seemed useless to fight his strength in this way. She’d seen him yank a tree out of the ground; he could handle a mere woman. But she’d be damned if she would respond to his assault, either in fear or desire. Elijah pulled away from her lips and rested his forehead against hers.
He seemed oblivious to her anger as he held her closer to him and kissed her forehead tenderly. It melted her heart…just a little. Not enough for her to stop wanting to kill him, though.
“Are you going to stop and listen to me?” he inquired.
She refused to speak and give him the satisfaction of winning. She didn’t lose well. She settled for a glare that would have frozen him on the spot—if he weren’t already made of stone.
“You don’t understand a damn thing,” he argued.
“I understand you killed your brother’s fiancée,” she returned.
“There were things that happened you would never, ever understand. Not in a million years. And you should thank God for it.”
“Let me go, Elijah. Now.”
He glared and opened his mouth to respond. Whatever he’d planned on saying, she would never know. For instead of replying, he hissed and ran to the door, threw it open, and slammed it shut behind him as he left.
She was left alone, quivering from the fear consuming her.
What had she done?
***
Blaringly aware of the fact he’d scared Sabrina away because of his honesty, Elijah ran with a desolation he’d not felt in a long, long time. He could have made her understand, made her see why he had done what he did. But Louisa had showed up.
Louisa, the bane of his existence.
There had been no choice but to flee after the deranged bitch, since she had no business being so close to Sabrina. But in protecting her, he had managed to alienate Sabrina for good. To top it all off, Louisa had gotten away.
But not for long.
His legs quickened each stride he took, and the wind brushed his skin like a caress. Even if he passed a human, they would feel nothing but a slight chill. Invisibility suited his mood today.
He was in no shape to be seen.
Chapter Six
The sound of the phone ringing echoed in the silent room, but Sabrina refused to answer. Her encounter with Elijah had left her shaken, and for one night, she didn’t want to have any of the craziness that now defined her life. She needed a freaking break.
Unfortunately, she really needed some sleep—but he might come to her. And she didn’t want to see him. What a position to be in.
She’d toyed with the idea of inviting Isaac over and sleeping in the shelter of his arms, but she fought it. It would be a cop-out, and she didn’t fit the mold of a weak damsel in distress, damn it. But she’d take a knife to bed. As she headed toward the kitchen, she checked the door one last time.
No, Sabrina, it didn’t unlock itself in the last five minutes.
Besides, a locked door wouldn’t keep him out, anyway. He’d just get her in her sleep. Like Freddy Krueger, but hotter.
The phone rang again, and she jumped in alarm. God, when did she become such a wimp? Time to answer it so she didn’t get a heart attack every five seconds.
“Hello?”
“Hi. How are you?”
“I’m okay, Isaac. You?”
“Eh, today passed slow and boring.” He chuckled.<
br />
She opted to lie. “Yeah, I hear you there.”
“Any more strange occurrences?”
“No, it’s been very quiet. Too quiet.”
“Hmm. Would you like some company?”
God, yes. Come hold me and keep me safe.
“I think I’m gonna go to bed. A storm kept me up last night, and I’m beat.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized.
“Why would you be sorry? It’s not like you caused it.” She laughed and rolled her shoulders as she sighed. He apologized for the weirdest things sometimes. Especially storms.
Odd.
“Can I come over tomorrow, instead? I need to talk to you.”
She choked on a breath, certain he would soon fill her in on some of his mysterious past. The writer in her wanted to hear his side—to understand.
“I changed my mind. You can come over, if you want.”
“No,” he insisted, “get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”
“Good night.” She sighed in dejection. She headed upstairs to attempt some sleep, though she alleged she’d get none. But hopefully, she’d be blessed by some quiet, empty, dreamless sleep.
Please.
***
Isaac spent all the next day tracking Elijah, to no avail. Anger coursed through him at his brother’s ability to escape him, but with considerable effort, he tamped it down. Eight o’clock had finally rolled around, and he pulled his car to a stop in Sabrina’s driveway. Had Elijah visited her dreams last night?
Had she moaned beneath his body, welcoming him into her open arms? Did she show him the same eagerness she always showed him? He exited the car and slammed the door behind him, before leaning against it.
Get a grip, man.
She wasn’t Amelia. He could trust her. Right?
Not if the past repeated itself….
***
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