Daniel stepped forward, closing the distance between them. His eyes glowed faintly with interest and understanding. He brushed a quick kiss over her lips.
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
Ophelia twisted her fingers together between them. “He asked me to bring him Carissa. For her, he would exchange my mother.”
“You didn’t agree?”
“Of course not! He tried to tell me she was Ryker’s killer, so I told him I knew the truth.” She closed her eyes, feeling Daniel go still. “And he asked for someone else, instead.” She looked up at him, unsurprised that the glow had faded completely. “Jeremiah commanded me to bring you to him.” Please don’t hate me. “And I agreed.”
Another tear followed the last, opening the floodgates to a river of regret. She moved away from him without looking at his face. She’d betrayed him in the worst way, and there would be no coming back from that. It didn’t matter that she had no plans to go through with it. All that mattered was that she agreed in the first place. I’m a despicable person.
Ophelia placed the back of her hand against her mouth—the lips that still tingled from Daniel’s kiss—and she choked back a sob. She crossed the room to stand before the window. The night was calm, in stark contrast to her turbulent emotions. More tears fell, and she did nothing to stem the flow. Every ounce of his anger was well-deserved.
“I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “I don’t expect you to be able to forgive me. I know I should have stood up to him. I should have offered another solution, at the very least.”
Daniel made no sound, no assent or argument, and Ophelia couldn’t hold back a whimper. So, that was how it was to be. She’d known what would happen, but God it hurt. It turned out her aunt had been right about something else all along: She was more than halfway in love with him.
And she had just ruined everything.
Straightening her spine, she turned around, only to be greeted by an empty room. The pain in her broken heart bloomed and burst, sending her into her chair as her knees went weak. She’d at least expected angry words, but she wouldn’t even have that. Instead, he’d chosen to leave her in silence. Ophelia wrapped her arms around her middle as the finality of his walking out hit her. She leaned forward, her forehead resting on the tops of her knees while she sobbed. They’d all been right—her aunt and Daniel—she was so stupid. Her mother was a lost cause, and she always had been. But her daughter stupidly held out hope, and because of that stupidity, she’d destroyed the trust of the man she was falling for.
Footsteps sounded at the entrance to the kitchen, but Ophelia didn’t bother raising her head. She kept her eyes shut, and rested her forehead on her knees as she spoke, “Not right now, Aunt Jan,” she whispered. “I know I’m an idiot.”
But it wasn’t her aunt’s voice that she heard in response. “I don’t think you’re an idiot, Phia,” Daniel said quietly.
Her head jerked up. He stood before her with a bouquet of wildflowers clutched in his large hand and a sheepish look on his face.
“You came back.” Ophelia blinked, reluctant to believe her own eyes.
Daniel smiled. “I did.” He laid the flowers on the table, and crouched down in front of her. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not upset.”
“I’m—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Let me finish. I’m not going to say I’m not upset. I am.” He raised her right hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “But not with you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What?”
Daniel chuckled. “I’m not upset with you. With Jeremiah and his hoard of bloodsucking assholes, but not with you.” He reached up to cup her cheek. “I can’t be upset with you for caring enough to do what needed to be done to save the life of an innocent woman.”
Ophelia blinked. “But you walked out!”
His thumb stroked her skin softly, tenderly, “But I also came back, didn’t I?” He raised the flowers. “And I brought you these.”
She took the clutch of wildflowers in a shaking hand. “Why?”
Leaning forward, Daniel pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Because I know you like me, and because I obviously like you. And because I don’t really think the first kiss was a mistake.”
Truth, Phia. Give the man the truth. “Neither do I.”
His hand stilled on her cheek, and his eyes widened. “Do you mean that?”
Nodding, Ophelia reached up and placed her hand over his. “Yes,” she said simply.
Tossing the flowers to the table, he captured her lips with his, teasing, tasting, devouring in slow, languid stages. With a moan, she gave back, matching his desire stroke for stroke. She whimpered when he pulled back, her eyes unfocused.
Daniel smiled. “Sweetheart, I need to go. It’s almost dawn.”
“Oh, well, if you must.”
Daniel chuckled and kissed her one more time. “I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
“Yes, tomorrow, and I’ll—Oh! I almost forgot to tell you something.”
“What?”
“Jeremiah assigned me a nightly guard. If you’re going to keep coming around, it might get tricky.”
“Who is he making do his dirty work?”
“One of his henchmen. Some sorcerer by the name of Craven.”
At first Daniel was silent, but then he let our great hoot of laughter. “Well, he certainly works fast!”
Ophelia sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “You plan to fill me in at some point?”
“Craven works for my brother, not Jeremiah.”
Ophelia’s jaw dropped. “That's who you were talking to on the phone!”
Daniel raised an amused eyebrow. “You were eavesdropping?”
“I prefer to call it ‘accidentally listening’."
“So, you accidentally listened to a private conversation I was having out on your porch while you were inside?”
Ophelia looked down, her cheeks flushing. “Something like that,” she mumbled.
He tapped her gently on the tip of her nose. “It’s okay, Phia. That saves me from having to explain it. You’ll be safe with Craven here. Sometimes he’s annoying, but he's a friend of sorts, so you’ll be in good hands.”
Sighing, Ophelia rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s good, then.”
Daniel grinned. “But now I really do need to go. I want to be inside Aden’s house before the sun comes up.”
Ophelia sat up, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him lightly. “Then go, and I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
When he walked out, she went to wake Aunt Janice to tell her just how right she’d been.
Chapter Thirteen
Ophelia found her aunt in her bed with one of her many books—in this instance, it was the same paranormal romance that Ophelia was reading in her spare time. When she opened the door, Janice patted the bed beside her, and Ophelia took a seat. Her aunt put her book on her nightstand and wrapped an arm around Ophelia’s shoulders. Ophelia laid her head against Janice’s shoulder and sighed, smiling.
“You were right, Aunt Jan. He is my vampire.”
Her aunt laughed. “Of course, I was right, but you realize this won’t be easy? There will be plenty of bumps along the way.”
“Oh, I know, but…he kissed me.”
Janice kissed her forehead. “Did he now? And did you kiss him back?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“And no one has ever made me feel the way he does. Not even Stephen.”
Janice turned, tilting Ophelia’s head up so she could look her in the eyes. “That bothers you.”
Ophelia nodded. “I keep thinking my feelings shouldn’t be this intense, and sometimes he looks at me like, well, like he’s seen me before. And his eyes fill with love. It’s intimidating.”
Janice gently stroked Ophelia’s arm. “Are you thinking there’s something to that? That he’s not really seeing you?”
Ophelia shook her head. “No.�
� She bit her lip. “Yes. I don’t know, Aunt Jan. My heart wants me to jump forward, but my head says stand back and be careful. I don’t know which to listen to.”
“Child, then why don’t you look. I can’t see everything for you, but you have the skill, the drive, and the connection to this man to help you find answers. Take the chance; look into the fire, and set your heart and mind at ease.”
Ophelia sighed. “You make it sound so easy. What if it’s all wrong? What if what I see isn’t him and I together, but something else entirely?”
Janice laughed and pressed another kiss to her hair. “Honey, I already told you that I’ve seen you two together. You simply need to see the past, I think, to clear your way to the future.”
Ophelia sat up, and kissed her aunt on the cheek. “I’ll think on it, I promise. Now, you and I both need to get some sleep. We’ll have a house-guest for the next few nights—Daniel and a friend of his. And I have to work tomorrow. I need to catch up on my own sleep before we’re dealing with zombies instead of vampires.”
Janice chuckled. “Then go on, child. I’ll see you later today. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Aunt Jan.”
Myrick swirled a finger in the brandy sitting on the table beside him as he watched the sun rise through his parlor window. It was time to put the next phase of his plan into motion. The crystal ball beside his glass still swirled with vision—the vampire and the sorceress—and if he was to get what he desired, they would have to come together, but his sources told him they were slow. As the puppet master, he couldn’t allow his creations to jump their strings.
To achieve greater power, Myrick needed them to mate.
Pressing the intercom button beside his chair, he uttered one command. “T, it’s time; send in a little persuasion.”
He disconnected without waiting for a reply and took a sip of his brandy. If all went as planned, the process of Daniel and Ophelia’s union would be sped up exponentially. And the thought simply made him giddy.
Before heading to bed, Ophelia retrieved a small pistol from the drawer in her entrance table. She checked to make sure it was loaded, and locked her front door. By God, if anyone knocked, she would shoot first and ask questions later. She was way too emotionally exhausted to be bothered.
Sighing, she kicked off her shoes in the hallway and padded barefoot into the kitchen, stopping abruptly when she noticed a folded piece of paper on her dining table. She approached the object with caution in her every step. However, once she spotted the elegant looping scrawl, she picked up the paper without hesitation.
Unfolding it, she read:
Ms. Ophelia,
Don’t even think about coming into work for the next few weeks. You have bigger things on your plate. I’ve already called Sadie to take over your shift for a while, and Breanna will be getting some extra hours, too. Between the three of us, I believe we can handle Baby Steps. You help my granddaughter take care of things, and I’ll be in touch.
Eleanor
P.S.
What you fear is not impossible, but it doesn’t make you who you are. Good luck, child.
Ophelia sat the paper down and closed her eyes. How did Eleanor get into my house? And more importantly, how did she get in without me or Aunt Jan hearing her enter? Then Ophelia remembered the ball of ice, and realized, after that, breaking and entering would be small change.
Laughing to herself, she fixed a quick sandwich and ate it on her way to her bedroom. After the last few days, and some very strange nights, sleep called to her as sweetly as a children’s choir singing to God. Nothing would be more welcome.
Without bothering to remove her clothes, Ophelia checked the safety, placed the gun beneath her pillow, and crawled onto the bed. Sleep was instantaneous, but it wasn’t the restful experience she was looking for.
Dew glittered on the ground, sparkling and as clear as wet diamonds in the moonlight. The cypress trees that grew on the banks of the bayou towered over him as he walked beneath their embracing branches. Cicadas and frogs warred in a symphony of sound that would be pleasing to the ear, had it not been for the circumstances surrounding his midnight walk.
He found what he was looking for at the edge of the water.
The woman knelt on the ground before him, facing the wet, black abyss, her ebony hair an inky waterfall down her slender back. “You came for me, Daniel. I knew you would.” Her voice was soft as tinkling bells, grating on his nerves like a lightning strike to the temple.
Daniel stopped just out of arm's reach, fearing a lack of control if he moved closer. “Why did you do it, Jasmine? Why did you kill them?” He asked, his voice shaking from the pain of his memories.
She turned her head and looked at him, the waif-like form of a child cradled in her arms. Blood trickled from tiny wounds in the little girl’s neck. The sight turned his stomach, but Daniel kept his face carefully blank.
Jasmine smiled at him, a beautiful window to an evil soul. She smoothed her hand over the child’s hair. “Oh, I have my reasons. You really should thank me. You would have lived your whole life in that…hovel, never reaching your true potential. You’re so much more than that now.”
Her words were a knife to his heart, defacing the love he had for his family, Daniel roared with grief. He rushed her, gripping her neck in his hands and shaking her like a rag doll. The child in her lap fell to the ground, rolling toward the water. He looked down at her victim. A red haze covered his vision as rage filled him.
“You killed my family!” he yelled at her, “My wife! My children! They were nothing to you, yet you killed them!” Daniel squeezed, but she continued to smile, unfazed by his attempt to choke her.
Suddenly, her eyes flashed scarlet in the darkness, her hands reaching up to press against his chest, and he flew through the air. His back slammed into a tree and he slid to the ground with splinters in his back, and moss in his hair. Ignoring the pain, he was up in an instant, sadness and anger fueling his steps.
Jasmine laughed, slapping out at him when he got close. Her supernaturally strong arm flung Daniel to the ground. He hit with such force it rattled his bones, and Jasmine continued to laugh. She stood over him, smiling, as her eyes faded back to blue.
Jasmine kicked Daniel with the toe of her boot as he struggled to stand, the contact breaking at least one rib. The impact knocked him back down. He glared up her. Jasmine flashed her fangs at him in a malevolent grin. “You’ll thank me one day. Come find me when you want to know how to survive.” She looked toward the bank, as the little girl beginning to stir in the mud, then turned back to Daniel.
“As a matter of fact–” she said, her voice gleeful– “little Sophie over there will make you a nice meal.”
With that, Jasmine turned on her heel and raced into the night, leaving Daniel and the girl alone. Wincing, he rose to his feet, pressing a hand to his side. He lurched toward the child, ignoring the tears that stained his cheeks as he looked at her, simply relieved beyond imagining that she was moving—he’d feared Jasmine had killed her.
Daniel crouched beside the child. He pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. He could hear the steady beat of her heart, and smell the spicy tang of her blood. Hunger rose from deep in his belly, clawing its way into his throat. His fangs sprang forth, the desire for blood a living thing, eating at his mind, drowning his senses.
Daniel closed his eyes and pulled the girl close. She whimpered in his arms. At the noise, he lowered his gaze to hers.
“Please don’t hurt me.” She whispered, her voice faint and pleading.
Lifting one arm, Daniel stroked her hair, much as Jasmine had done, but without the malice. Sophie was so like his little Madeline, with her curly golden hair and deep blue eyes; he couldn’t do it. There was no way he could feed from an innocent child.
Daniel focused with all his might, his body quaking with the effort, but his fangs retreated. His hunger didn’t die, but his mind was clear. Her eyes went wide as he stood with
her cocooned in the protective circle of his arms, and her body went limp. He prayed she knew she was safe. He didn’t trust himself to speak past his pain and hunger.
He walked with her, through the dense trees, until they reached the main thoroughfare in the little town of New Orleans. Daniel spotted the Old Ursuline Convent, and made a beeline for the door. It wasn’t the town doctor, which would have been too suspicious, but the good sisters could help her, he was sure.
He gently laid the girl before the large double doors, and banged heavily on the wood. When he heard footsteps from within, he ran into the shelter of the trees before the nun could answer. Daniel watched the sister find the girl, and heard her ask the child what happened.
Little Sophie mumbled something to the nun, and looked toward the woods, but the sister did not follow her gaze. Sophie smiled at him as the nun led her inside, and Daniel thanked God that his prayer had been heard.
Daniel prayed again that she would be safe, and he slumped against the nearest tree, cursing when his back ached in pain from the splinters. His rib throbbed painfully as it healed, and his hunger deepened.
He looked up at the moon. Morning would come soon, and he needed to feed. It was time to find some cattle.
Chapter Fourteen
Ophelia bolted upright, a gasp lodged in her throat. She rubbed her eyes and blinked back tears. Can’t I sleep, just once, without those dreams? Is that really too much to ask? She was grateful it wasn’t the usual one; she got tired of seeing him wake up to find his family dead, but this was…intense. Daniel went through a lot of shit during his first nights as a vampire, and she wasn’t making his current nights much better. Unless I count the kissing, but does that make up for the rest?
She shook her head, dispelling the thought. There was no proof that the dreams were truthful, but her gut and the tingle of her power told her they were. Ophelia sighed. It looked like she needed to reconsider the way she thought about Daniel overall—sure she enjoyed kissing him, but a part of her still saw him as an unstable bloodsucker, something she was finally ready to admit was unfair. Smiling, Ophelia took a quick shower, and was halfway through getting ready for work when she realized she didn’t need to go in. She looked at her bedside clock and chuckled. It was noon, so she’d have been three hours late, anyway.
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