Coveted - Book 3 in the Gwen Sparks Series

by Stephanie Nelson

  “What did you find out on your vacation?” I asked, taking another drink.

  “You wouldn’t believe me,” Dorian said.

  I swiveled my head to look at him. He was still sitting in that relaxed position, perfectly inviting. I could see myself standing up and walking over to him, climbing onto his lap and… Damn those stupid vampires. Playing with one’s libido like a game of keep away should be punishable by death.

  “Try me.” I took another drink to ease the dryness of my mouth and frowned when I had emptied the glass. On refill number three, I sat back against the soft cushion of the sofa and watched Dorian. For crying out loud, could the man at least have the decency to have one physical flaw, one that I could focus on and smack my lust away with?

  “You’re too perfect,” I heard myself saying out loud. My cheeks warmed either from the wine consumption or embarrassment. The merlot was doing its job and turning my tense body into a cozy marshmallow. I felt my anger melting away.

  Dorian laughed. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “It was meant to be a criticism.”

  “I’ll take what I can get.”

  “Well, you’re not getting any of this.” I signaled to my body with a wave of my hand.

  “Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear,” Dorian deadpanned. “But that doesn’t stop you from eye-fucking the shit out of me. Why don’t you come over here so I can give you the real thing?”

  Was it hot in here, or was that the wine? “Stop distracting me. What did you find out when you left to wherever?”

  Dorian shook his head in exasperation. “It’s going to sound like a pick-up line.”

  “The reason you can’t see when I’ll die will sound like a pick-up line? Consider me intrigued.”

  “Remember when I told you everything has rules?”

  I nodded.

  “It turns out I’m not the exception—”

  “Imagine that.”

  Dorian ignored my sarcasm. “The Fates have obstructed my view of your life because…”

  “Because…?” I drawled.

  “Because of how I feel.” His voice was a whisper, but I had heard it loud and clear. We watched each other for a few moments before he spoke again.

  “They’re afraid I’ll favor you and not collect your soul when the time comes.”

  I smiled to myself, hiding it with another drink. “So Death is sweet on me. There are worst things I suppose.”

  “Get over yourself,” Dorian teased. “You’re a hot piece of ass and that’s it.”

  I couldn’t hide my smile this time. “Really? So that spiel about wanting all of me and everything it entails was just a line? And the Fates’ declaration was wrong?” I laughed, standing up and heading into the kitchen for another bottle of wine. “Tell me,” I said loud enough that Dorian would hear me in the living room. “Are the Fates often wrong?”

  “About this they are,” he said right behind me, scaring me. I jumped, but once I got over the initial shock, I became aware of his body just behind mine. My fingers gripped the side of the counter and I remained still, afraid if I turned around Dorian would make his move. Hell, part of me was hoping he would.

  His hands slid up my shoulders, gripping the hem of my jacket. I hadn’t taken it off when I got home. Finding the wine seemed more important at the time. Sliding it off, Dorian placed my coat on the counter beside us. He swept my hair to the side, revealing my neck. As he pressed a kiss in the crook, flashbacks of tonight visited my mind. Anger and lust overwhelmed me. I was pissed at what had happened but still fighting the effects of the vampires’ sensual power.

  Dorian placed a hand on my stomach, holding my body to his as his lips moved up my neck, to my jawline and then my mouth. I turned my head slightly to make the kiss easier, moaning as his tongue slipped between my lips.

  “Hate to interrupt,” Lauren said from behind us. Dorian didn’t stop kissing me, his mouth moved against mine in a sensual seduction while his hands trailed over my body.

  “I’ll just tell the rogues outside to wait,” Lauren said. “Give them ten minutes, boys,” she mock yelled.

  It was enough to make Dorian step away from me. I turned my face to the counter again, closing my eyes and sucking in a deep breath. My entire body was warm from the wine, but Dorian had awakened it with a need so strong I thought I would scream in frustration.

  “How many?” Dorian all but growled.

  I shook off my irritation and spun to face them. “And why are you here?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I leave so you and hunky can get back to screwing while the rogues beat down the door?”

  “You’re right,” I told her. “I’m sorry and we…weren’t screwing.”

  “How many?” Dorian repeated.

  “Four, and some weird dude in a black cloak. He smells old.”

  My heart stopped beating for a second. “An old guy called me…this morning.” Wow, it seemed like ages ago that I had gotten the call. Talk about a long day.

  “What did he want?” Dorian asked.

  I shrugged. “Something about making a deal. I hung up on him.”

  Two hard bangs came from my front door. The wood rattled against the frame and had me worried it would be bust down. It wasn’t like the apartment was built with quality materials. If the bad guys wanted in, it wouldn’t be that difficult, unless they were vampires of course. I loved that little rule about them needing an invitation to enter any private dwelling. Or maybe I was just clinging to any semblance of a silver lining.

  “We have to leave,” Dorian said. “Flora isn’t safe anymore.”

  “Where are we supposed to go?”

  Another round of bangs sounded, my door creaking with the pressure. The windows rattled and heavy footsteps raced across the metal balcony. Lauren hissed, rushing forward in a blur. She was standing in front of the windows and I’d just caught what caused her reaction; a man was hovering outside the window, his eyes inky pools as he watched me. Lauren pulled the string that lowered the blinds.

  “What the hell? We’re on the second floor.” In my experience supernaturals didn’t fly. That whole witch and broomstick thing is just a bad joke.

  “Demons can pretty much defy gravity. Creepy little bastards.” Dorian headed down the hallway, me on his tail. He disappeared into my room. Opening my closet, he began pulling clothes from hangers and stuffing them into a duffel bag.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We’re leaving. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone.” He walked over to my dresser, opened the drawer and held up a pair of red lace panties. With an arch of his eyebrow, he smiled and stuffed them in the bag too, along with a handful of others.

  “Where are we going?”

  “New Orleans.”

  “What’s in New Orleans?”

  “My house and something that just might kill these bastards.”

  A loud crash echoed through the house. Dorian stopped packing and we both remained silent as we listened. Footsteps slapped against the floor, followed by more crashes and grunts.

  Dorian peeked his head out quickly and then shut my bedroom door. Walking over to me, he wrapped his arms around my waist and held me close.

  “What’s going on?” I craned my neck to see around him. My eyes were glued to the door, positive my room would be invaded at any second.

  “They’re in the house,” Dorian whispered. “Lauren’s holding them back.”

  “Don’t you think we should help her?”

  “No, I think she can handle herself and that I should get you to safety.”

  My cat padded out from underneath my bed and I broke away from Dorian to scoop her up.

  “We’re not bringing her.”

  “Like hell we’re not,” I snapped. “I can’t leave her here, especially when you don’t know how long we’ll be gone.”

  “Fine, but if she sheds on any of my stuff I’m kicking her out.”

  He wrapped his arms a
round me and my cat and I closed my eyes as the air began speeding up and ruffling my hair. My cat struggled against me, but I held on tight. I didn’t know what would happen if she jumped out of my arms while Dorian was transporting us to the realm of the dead.

  I opened my eyes when the gust settled to a normal breeze. We were in what looked like a deserted town. Buildings crumbled to the ground. The remaining stones still standing looked like they were struggling to hold themselves up. Like the times I had visited before, the realm of the dead was a gray washed out landscape, barren and gloomy.

  “Where are we?”

  “New Orleans,” Dorian said, placing his hand on the small of my back. Together we walked toward a structure that looked like it used to be some sort of restaurant. A rotting wooden sign swung in the breeze. Wooden columns held up a decaying balcony above. My eyes traveled up the length of the building and the broken windows. Dorian had tried explaining the ghostly realm to me while in Moon. It seemed like such a depressing place to spend the afterlife, but from what I understood the ghosts saw it differently than we did. If the spirit was pure and good then they saw their own piece of heaven within the gloom. If they were evil during their lives then their afterlives were hellish.

  Dorian and I stepped into the dilapidated structure. The interior was coated in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. Fallen beams hung from the rafters.

  “We’ve got to get to the shimmer,” Dorian said, pointing across the space. Shimmers, or safe zones, are spots that spirit walkers could walk through and transport to other areas. The spot would shimmer like a heat mirage. The one Dorian was pointing to was all the way across the room. Large holes where the floor had crumbled blocked the path to it. Dorian intertwined his fingers in mine and together we walked with caution toward the safe zone. My cat struggled against me, her nails digging into my shoulder. I winced from the pain but kept a tight hold on her body. There was no way I was losing her in the realm of the dead. There were scarier things here aside from ghosts. Demons also prowled the desolate place.

  “How are we going to get to it?” There was a single plank still standing but it looked like it was struggling to hold up the weight of the dust, let alone Dorian and me. He stared at the spot for a moment and then turned back and looked at the door we had come through. He let go of my hand and stuck his booted foot out to test the stability. The board creaked as puffs of dust swirled into the air.

  “You still have your magic, right?”

  “As far as I know,” I told him.

  “Can you create something to reinforce the floor?”

  “I’ll try.” I used my magic to create a lot of things, clothes mainly but I’d never tried to produce something substantial like wood. Closing my eyes, I envisioned two by four inch planks spanning the gap, strengthening the floor. The magic within me buzzed and rushed through my veins, sending a jolt of energy to awaken my senses. I could smell the wood I was trying to create, see the blonde color and picture it sliding into place to form a bridge. Opening my eyes, I stared at the space where the hole had been.

  “Come on.” Dorian gripped my hand again. I held my breath as he stepped onto the wood, hoping the magic held and the boards wouldn’t disintegrate under our feet. The entire building creaked as we made our way to the shimmer, as though it was angry that we’d found a way around its booby traps. I squeezed Dorian’s hand tighter as we walked with caution across the boards. Dust rained down from the ceiling causing the air to thicken with tiny particles. My cat sneezed, scaring me. I jolted, my foot slipping off the side of the wood. Something resembling a shriek escaped my lips as I fought to keep my balance and not fall off the side and into the dark hole on either side of the bridge. Dorian stopped, his hand sliding down to grip my forearm and hold me steady. Once I found my footing again I took a moment to take a deep breath and nodded for Dorian to continue. Three more feet and we would be safe inside the shimmer.

  “You couldn’t have found a less dangerous place to cross?” I asked, keeping my eyes trained on Dorian’s back. If I didn’t look down then I could pretend I wasn’t a misstep away from falling to my death.

  “I could have, but it would have been further away. Traveling long distances in here would be more dangerous than this old building.” I had learned last time just how dangerous the realm of the dead could be after a demon chased Dorian and me. I did not want to run into another one anytime soon.

  Dorian stepped inside the shimmer, which clung to the decaying wall like some kind of optical illusion. Just as I was about to cross the safety threshold, loud footsteps sounded behind me. Looking over my shoulder, my eyes locked with three men. The hoods obscured their faces from me, but I didn’t need to see them to know they weren’t there to help; their evil smirks spoke volumes.

  They rushed forward, dodging the holes in the floor like some kind of supernatural ninjas. Dorian yanked on my arm hard, pulling me into the shimmer. The men stood on the other side of the bridge staring ahead as if they couldn’t see us. One of them began to cross the wooden boards. He tilted his head to the side to inspect the wall in front of him.

  “They can’t see us?” I whispered.

  “Not while we’re in a safe zone,” Dorian said. “Destroy the boards, Gwen.”

  I envisioned the boards disappearing. My heart pounded with each second they remained under the man’s feet. The other man followed in his friend’s footsteps and walked onto the bridge too. I tried to concentrate on willing those boards to vanish and ignore the evil men standing just a foot away. One of them leaned closer to the wall, reaching his hand out and tracing the worn boards beneath his fingertips. His lips spread wider, revealing crooked, yellowing teeth. I snapped my eyes shut and threw all of my willpower and focus into the bridge.

  “What are you waiting for?” Dorian asked in a harsh whisper. “Do it!”

  Energy built like a volcano causing my veins to feel like they would explode. A migraine slunk its way around my skull, weaving around my brain and pounding against my temples. I grunted, grinding my teeth as I sent all of my will into breaking those damn boards.

  A loud shriek made my eyes snap open. The boards were disappearing one at a time, and the men were scrambling to save themselves. The one closest to us threw his arms out, shoving the first man out of his way. The man fell over the edge, his fingers gripping the fading 2x4s as the other ran past him and onto the safety of the building’s fragile floor.

  “Help me,” the man clinging to the bridge snarled. His friend made no move to save him, and then the wood disappeared and the man’s screams were swallowed up by the darkness of the deep hole. The remaining guy laughed a maniacal sound that didn’t belong to a human being. He winked as if he could see me, sending icy cold shivers to penetrate to my bones. Turning on his heel, he fled from the building and out the door. When he was gone, my entire body sagged in relief, and exhaustion consumed me. The migraine worked overtime to abuse my head and sweat collected along my forehead.

  “Come on.” Dorian wrapped an arm around my shoulders and we were walking again. My legs moved but my brain was somewhere else. I was on autopilot: an empty shell of worn out muscles and depleted energy.

  It felt like hours, though I was sure it was mere minutes, before I felt the warm wash of exiting the shimmer cascade over my body. Loud noises and bright lights overpowered my senses, causing me to blink and cringe. I raised my arm to shield my eyes. The neon lights were hell on my headache. I was vaguely aware that Dorian’s arm was still wrapped around my shoulder and I was huddled against him. My legs felt weighed down, too big and bulky to move with grace. I stumbled over the cracked concrete as we made our way through the crowded street. The sounds of the nearby people talking and laughing became white noise, floating in the back of my mind on a sea of confusion.

  “Where are we going?” I mumbled, squinting to see my surroundings. We were on a narrow road bordered on either side with businesses. Above, wrought iron balconies hugged the buildings and were full of lush green
ery.

  “Home,” Dorian said. “It’s just around the corner.”

  My vision blurred in and out of clarity, but I kept my feet moving and allowed Dorian to guide me in the right direction. I rubbed my cheek against the soft leather of his coat, inhaling the scent. The clicking of metal against metal sounded. I lifted my head and looked forward. Dorian held open a gray door with wrought iron detailing.

  “Here,” Dorian said grabbing something from my arms. I realized after the thing was gone that he had taken my cat and placed her inside the home. Snaking an arm around my back, Dorian bent down and lifted me into his arms, cradling me against his body. I stared up at him, the strong outline of his jaw, the softness of his brown hair and the fullness of his lips. I hadn’t realized how afraid I was when he left until he came back. Though he had only been gone for a day, the fear that I would never see him again surprised me.

  We reached a landing but he didn’t put me down. Instead, he carried me through the home and down a long hallway where we entered a bedroom. My eyelids were heavy and my vision was getting fuzzier the longer I tried to focus on any one thing. My limbs felt boneless and weak as they hung limp in Dorian’s arms.

  Dorian laid me down on a bed and began slipping my shoes off. He drew the thick comforter up around my body and then turned to leave the room. I watched his silhouette getting further and further away as I drifted off to sleep.

  *

  My eyes fluttered open, and I stared up at the high ceiling of an unfamiliar room. I looked around. Toward the left was a wall of tall, arched windows. The sky was dark which meant I had slept all day. For all I knew I’d slept for multiple days. Lights from outside cast shadows to dance around the large room, making it seem more menacing than it probably was. A large armoire rested on the adjacent wall, antiquated and beautiful, and a large circular mirror hung on the next wall. The room was large, but mostly bare of furniture.

  Slipping my legs over the edge of the bed, I braced my hands on either side of me and closed my eyes as I thought about what had happened. Dorian came back and cloaked figures were stalking me. I didn’t know whether I should be happy about Dorian’s return or afraid of more evil rogues hunting me. A mixture of emotions consumed me, but at the moment I would concentrate on the good ones.