The electric charge between them built, like it always did. She’d missed his touch. Earlier, when she’d tried to kiss him, he held back, shutting her down. Now the passion ignited.
She walked him backward to her room. He scooped her into his arms and hurried the pace, flinging the door open and setting her down.
Erik pulled his shirt off, dropping it on the floor. His eyes flashed to hers as she opened his pants and pushed them down his hips. His cock sprang free. She wrapped her hand around his hard length as he found the zipper to her dress, pulling it down.
He slipped the straps down her arms and let the fabric fall to the floor. Erik traced the raven on her side. “A month ago?”
She nodded. “You’ve been breaking my walls down for a year. Took me that long to let the last bit crumble.”
He pulled her hands up and kissed her palms. “Wish you’d told me when you did that.”
“Was still afraid to hurt as bad as I did years ago. And the sad part, you weren’t even with her.”
His fingers threaded into her hair. “Start fresh. From the beginning. Without the old doubts and concerns. Just tell me the Silver Council is no longer a deal breaker because I’m not walking away. Things are finally changing for the better.”
“You need to be a part of that change, and I’ll stand beside you.”
He brushed his lips over hers before delving in, sweeping wildfire through her veins. No one had ever kissed her like Erik did. His magic sparked along her nerves, calling to her own. His essence entwined with hers, a bond that shouldn’t exist, but always had.
His hands trailed around her sides and up to unhook her bra, letting it fall to the floor. His palms drifted down to push her panties down her legs. He gripped her ass, pulling. She hopped, wrapping her legs around his waist.
“Need you, Erik. Always have.” She blinked back tears.
He laid her down, looking into her eyes. “Don’t push me away again. I won’t chase you next time.” He kissed her again, rubbing his length through her folds.
She rolled her hips, seeking friction.
His crown pushed past her gate, filling her body. She clung to his arms that dipped the bed beside her shoulders, staring into his intense gaze.
“Be mine, Monique.”
“Always,” she whispered, meaning it to the bottom of her soul. He found her end and they clicked into place, like they’d never been apart. His mouth covered hers, his tongue taking the same rhythm as their hips.
They synced, pleasure pushing and pulling at each other, until they felt as one. His pleasure became her own, hers flowing through him. Breathy sighs and needy grunts joined their song.
He shifted his knees beside her hips as he pushed deeper and harder, rocking her closer to the edge, then she was freefalling into bliss. He pounded into her thrice more before joining.
His eyes bored into her, imploring.
“Always yours,” she answered.
He rolled to the side, crushing her in his embrace. Tension ebbed and flowed. There were things on his mind, and he had every right to doubt after the shit she’d put him through for years, but she planned to wipe away every mistake she ever made.
“Can’t let you go again,” Erik mumbled with a shaky voice.
She leaned back, capturing his gaze. “Can’t walk away again.”
Chapter 22
Light streamed through the window, pulling Erik from sleep. Monique was still tangled in the sheets with him. A familiar face stood across the room, light seeping through her dainty frame.
Since Cassandra left Monique’s childhood home, following him to New York, he’d learned a lot about her. Like the fact that a dark mage had killed her in her home with her whole family. He’d helped her find peace, but she stayed, coming to him at all times of the day and night. He used to look at her like an older sister. Now she was the little sister.
Normally, she would avoid him while he was with a woman. Though she had always liked Monique and would drop in to watch her. It was why Erik knew about Nigel Shade and several other lovers of hers over the years.
He blinked against the sun and lifted his head to meet her pale blue eyes. The only colors in her apparition were her red lips, rosy cheeks, and hint of blue. Her clothes were from around the 1800s. She rarely talked about herself, preferring to pry into his life.
Cassandra’s head tipped to the side, a peculiar smile on her pouty lips. “About time you two let go of the past.”
He groaned and laid his head back.
“She loves you, Erik.” She glanced away. “Alistair says he’s heartbroken.” A giggle escaped. “He still seems to think you two have a future.”
Erik sighed heavily. He didn’t want to talk to Cassandra, and definitely not Alistair while Monique lay beside him. Last night was amazing, but as much as Monique promised to be his, he didn’t believe it was lasting. And like a glutton for punishment, he gave in because his heart was never going to learn the damned lesson.
Cassandra rattled on, “I’ve been watching Monique. She looks through the old photographs, smiling at all the pictures of you. Her whole warehouse is full of mannequins that look like you.” Cassandra crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed.
Erik pulled the sheet up, covering both himself and Monique.
He whispered, “You do realize there’s a better time to have a conversation, right?”
She shrugged. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you in more compromising positions.”
“But chatting with you with a sleeping woman in my arms, especially Monique, is bizarre, even for me.”
“Fine, I’ll come back once you’re dressed. I learned something interesting.”
Monique yawned, looking around. “I can almost hear a girl’s voice. You talking with someone?” she asked. Her sleepy eyes sparkled in amusement.
“Yeah. Cassandra. She’s too young to be in here with us.”
Monique’s eyes widened, a smile spreading. “The girl from my home? She’s still with you?”
His brow arched. He didn’t often talk about the ghosts to her. “You remember?”
“She followed you to New York.”
“Yeah. We became friends.”
Monique smiled. “She sounds more amused than anything.” Monique took another look around. “She’s there, isn’t she?” She pointed to the corner of the bed.
“Wish to God she wasn’t,” Erik muttered. “There were better ways to wake you up than a conversation with a nosy ghost.”
Pouting, Cassandra stood up. “Don’t be long. I want to help with your problem.”
“Soon, Cassandra. Please go.”
“You don’t have to kick her out,” Monique murmured, curling closer. “I don’t mind.”
“I like her,” Cassandra said.
He sighed. “She likes you.”
Monique replied, “Then she can stay.”
Cassandra grinned. “A woman asked Tarek to frame you. She was mad he failed. She’s a dark mage.”
Erik sat up, the sheet falling. “Who?”
Monique tugged the sheet over her exposed breasts with an arched brow.
Cassandra looked up at the ceiling and away. “I didn’t hear her name, but she’s awfully powerful. Like the one who took my life so long ago. And familiar—maybe it was her.” Her face pinched as she turned back. “I think she very likely is.”
“Why do you say that?”
She shook her head. “Same current of power. Don’t know how to explain it. I never saw her face yesterday. Never saw the woman who killed me, but I heard her voice.”
Erik nodded, thinking about the women in the Council who were more than two hundred years old. He knew of a dozen. “Thank you, Cassandra. Honest, that narrows it down.”
“Narrows what down?” Monique asked.
Erik answered, “We’re looking for a mage more than two centuries old. A woman. In the Council most likely. Someone with an agenda.”
“There are quite a few.”
Erik turned to her with a snort. “Not all mages have it out for the rest of the casters, Monique.”
“You can’t tell me there aren’t at least ten.”
“That’s better than hundreds,” Erik pointed out. “And she’s a dark mage. Furthers it down even more.”
“So what do we do?” Monique asked.
Cassandra smiled. “I’ll see if I can track her down. Maybe a name.”
“Thank you, Cassandra.”
She dipped her head. “I really am glad you two worked things out. Twyla always freaked whenever I came around.”
Erik chuckled. “Monique knows about my visitors. That was never our issue.”
“You should call off the transfer. Seriously, Erik. Monique really does love you. Always has.” Cassandra faded away, and he fell back with a sigh.
Monique rolled to him. “I don’t remember ever hearing her tone so well before.”
Erik shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you. I know I’ve grown stronger over the years. Some people can actually see and hear them when I’m close.” He snorted. “She mentioned the last woman I dated. Twyla could hear them as well as I could. Cassandra isn’t the only ghost who couldn’t stand her. Alistair hated her.” Erik sighed.
“Why?” Monique asked with a tipped head.
“He thinks he’s in love with me. I’ve tried to explain living and dead don’t mix like that, and that he’s definitely not my type, but it doesn’t sink in.”
She giggled, which turned into full-on laughing. “You have a boy ghost hot for your body?”
He sighed. “Can we not? I don’t control who comes to me. Some of them stick around.”
“Why did Twyla see them so well?”
“She was a suppressed medium. Being with me unsuppressed her gifts.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Eight years ago. She ended things. You came back. I’ve been chasing ever since.” Only he wished he were done with the sappy schoolboy shit because he needed to move the fuck on already.
“You’ve caught me.” Monique pushed his chest. “Let’s get showered and dressed. I have an idea.”
He caught her wrist. “What’s that?”
“My logs. I have some mages I want to look into on the books.”
Admittedly, he was confused about how that would help. If someone wanted to stop the DSF, they were likely mage elitists. Wouldn’t that also mean they were against enchanters?
Probably.
Shit, what did he really know about magical fashion? Nothing, that’s about what. Well, other than the clothes could protect from various things.
“What about food?”
“We can get that on the way.”
He sighed and climbed out of bed. “And what about clothes?”
Smirking, she nodded to the closet. “I have plenty of clothes for you.”
“Why?”
“Typically, when I’m working on the men’s line, I’m thinking about what would look good on you.” She shrugged.
He couldn’t stop the cocky grin from spreading. “You never got over me?”
She moved to him and trailed her fingers over his heart. “I might have been winning battles, but you were winning the war.” Those words shattered his restraint, chasing away the fear this was a farce.
Chapter 23
Erik watched the front window while Monique busied herself with the logbook. She kept track of everyone who ever bought her clothing, or hired her to enchant clothing.
Monique’s latest employee didn’t care much for him. Portia was a witch who could see the dead. And she hated the skill and anyone who shared the talent.
Portia’s head popped up when Alistair appeared before him with a full-on pout and his arms crossed over his chest. Erik wasn’t in the mood for the drama.
Alistair drawled, “Cassandra says you’ve forgiven the beast who trampled your heart.”
The witch’s brow arched, and she swept her gaze back to Monique, who was busy with a customer.
Sighing, Erik stepped outside. Being around Portia was awkward to start, but he didn’t need her overhearing the tantrum Alistair was about to throw. Once the door shut, he turned to the ghost. “Alistair, you need to realize I’m never going to be with a ghost.”
“You’re no fun.”
Erik shrugged. “You’ve known all along that if I could have Monique, I would.”
He huffed. “And when she breaks your heart again?”
“Are you here to help, or give me shit?”
“Help, of course. Whoever framed you is going to smarten up and hire someone to do what only another necromancer can. They’ll point the finger at you.”
“Exactly.” Erik paced away and lowered his voice. “You coming to me in public, especially in a town like Edenton, is only going to remind everyone I’m a necromancer.”
“Fine, fine, meet me in the bathroom.” Alistair walked through the building.
Erik stepped back inside. A customer continued to discuss the order. Portia glared at him, her dark eyes sparking as she tucked her magenta hair behind her ear.
He raised a single brow at her.
“I knew the dead came to you, but I didn’t think they were that familiar with you.”
“Yeah, there are a handful of ghosts who come to me often. They each have their own personalities. Alistair is still mad that his first lover’s parents found them together. The boyfriend’s father beat him to death.”
“Oh my God!” She covered her mouth and looked toward the back of the building where Alistair wandered off to. “And he still prefers men?”
Erik shrugged. “Trust me, you don’t choose who you love. Look at me. I’ve been in love with Monique for my whole life, and most of it she’s pushed me away.”
“Think things will be different this time?” she asked.
“Hope so.” He walked past the nosy witch and stepped into the bathroom where he sealed in the sound.
“She doesn’t like me.” Alistair sighed.
“Portia?” Erik shrugged. “She doesn’t like ghosts, or me.”
He nodded. “Don’t know why. I can’t get enough of you.”
“You’re hopeless. You’ve got a couple things going against you. First, you’re dead. Second, you’re not Monique. So stop.”
“You were going to leave.”
Yeah, and after last night, he wasn’t sure what to do. She’d convinced him she wanted to try, but he wanted more than try. He wanted her, all of her, completely. And she may say it, but he didn’t believe her yet.
Erik squared his shoulders. “Doesn’t matter. I’m stuck here until we figure out who’s framing me.”
Hope danced in Alistair’s eyes. “So you’re still thinking about leaving?”
Erik narrowed his eyes and changed the subject. “Monique has started to hear Cassandra. Not well enough to understand what’s said, but she could hear her tone. Any ideas on why her sense has strengthened?”
Alistair pouted. “You were with her decades ago, right?”
Erik nodded.
“As in amorous congress?”
“What?” Erik asked.
“Bread and butter?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Alistair pointed to his crotch. “You gave her your staff of life.”
Erik rubbed his eyes. Conversations about sex with the dead were too weird. “Yes, we had sex back then.”
“Then that doesn’t make sense.” He smirked. “You must be stronger. You are a gateway. If you practiced, you could call us forth enough anyone could see us, without inviting us into your body.”
“Yeah, but that means I let everything else in too. So no, I’m not going there. I prefer to keep our realm safe from the demons searching for a way in.”
“You’re strong enough to control who comes through,” Alistair offered.
Erik shook his head. “What doesn’t make sense?”
One corner of his mouth tipped up. “Some types of casters form a type of bond. Only, if that were the case, you would have formed it long ago, back when you were first with her.”
“Hmm, then we aren’t meant to be.” He shook that notion off. “Someone in the Council wants all the power to stay with the mages. Someone is framing me. Have any ideas who?”
“Unfortunately no.” Alistair moved toward the door. “I’m searching. And for the record, you should give Monique a chance. Cassandra’s right. Monique does love you, as much as I hate the idea.” With that he faded away.
Could he form some kind of bond? Something felt different, but was it his extra power and hers? Was it something else? Maybe just a fluke? So many questions danced through his head, he decided to shove them all aside.
* * * *
Monique finished up with Kjell Emmalyn and watched the mage leave the shop. The woman was old, hundreds of years old. She asked for some strange enchantments over the years.
Erik leaned in next to Monique. “Sorry, Alistair stopped pouting enough to tell me he was searching for the dark mage.”
She smirked. “That so?”
“Hmm.” He nodded, then tipped his head to the retreating figure. “Who was that?”
Monique looked around, then leaned in to whisper against his ear. “A suspect.”
He reached for a memory of her face. He didn’t have one. “Don’t recognize her.”
“She comes in disguised. A powerful fae created a glamour potion for her.”
The door opened and a dozen ghosts wafted through the place as if fleeing. Erik looked up to find Consuela stroll into the shop.
Fucking perfect.
Monique sighed, but offered a smile as Consuela made her way to the counter.
Consuela’s gaze swung from Erik to Monique, and back again. “Would the two of you care to have dinner with me?”
“Now isn’t the best time,” Monique offered with a smile. “Erik needs to keep a low profile.”
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