Ophelia’s heartbeat slowed farther, until it was but a whisper of sound, barely discernable. Daniel pressed his bloody wrist to her lips, but she didn’t move. And then there was silence. Aden held his breath as he watched his grandfather’s eyes well up, a tear falling to land gently on Ophelia’s cheek, but there was no sign of life. Daniel smeared his blood over her lips.
“Come on, Phia. Don’t die on me, baby,” he pleaded. “I love you.”
Aden looked away, unable to keep watching. Was that how Carissa felt when I died? He blinked back tears of his own. Suddenly his hand jerked on the blood-soaked shirt. He looked down.
“Daniel! She’s breathing!”
Daniel looked up just as Ophelia licked her lips and opened her eyes. She raised one rug burned arm and placed her hand against his cheek.
“You came back.” Her voice sounded raspy and harsh, but it was strong. She started to move, but he pushed her back down.
“You don’t want to do that yet, Phia.”
Aden removed the shirt from her abdomen. The skin was knitting itself together. He looked at her injured arms. They were already scarring where the rug burns were the worst.
Ophelia pushed Daniel’s hand from her shoulder and sat up anyway. She looked down, eyes narrowed. “What the hell happened to me?”
Aden’s eyes widened as he shared a shocked glance with Daniel. “What do you remember?” Aden asked her.
“I remember the green light, and Sam…he couldn’t get past it.” She paused and shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s all kind of fuzzy.” She turned her attention to Daniel. “He was looking for you.”
“Me? Why?” Daniel asked, confused.
“He didn’t really say.” Ophelia replied, with a jerk of her shoulder.
“Where’s his body?” Daniel asked.
Ophelia shook her head again, so he turned to Aden, eyes narrowing when the younger man tugged at his ear.
“There isn’t one. He got away.”
With a bellow of rage, Daniel leapt up, hauling Aden to his feet by the front of his shirt. His grandfather pinned him to the wall with one hand. Aden’s feet dangled half a foot above the ground, and he shook. He’d never seen Daniel this angry before.
Sparks flew from his grandfather’s eyes as he ground out. “That motherfucker tried to kill my Phia, and you didn’t destroy him? What the hell’s wrong with you, boy?”
T hung up the phone and fairly tittered with glee. Shaking hands passed over another dagger—a strong blade formed by the love conjured in the first phase of Myrick’s plan. Words emerged, churning madly behind dark toffee eyes. A rough voice whispered as a green glow bloomed around the weapon.
Their love and their power
To mingle and hold
As each emerald rises
And I have foretold
For more power and love
Gem calls to gem
When rubies appear
The third phase begins
The demon will weep
As his power does break
But the sorcerer will die
And his place I will take!
As T’s chant ended, and the green glow faded away, the dagger’s simple hilt shimmered. With a bright white flash of light, metal replaced leather, tiny emeralds set into the still-glowing steel. T’s hunch had been correct, or the spell wouldn't have worked.
Not only had they mated, but Daniel and Ophelia had fallen for each other.
Mirth turned up the corners of thin lips. A meeting would take place the following month, at the beginning of the third phase. T had plans for the werewolf's heart, and when the spell fell into place, Myrick would be no more.
Aden’s mouth dropped open, but before he could say anything, Ophelia stood up and placed a gentle hand on the arm Daniel was using to pin the younger vampire to the wall. She looked at both of them and shook her head. Men could be so immature.
“Daniel, put him down and think logically for a minute. If he’d kept fighting Sam, I wouldn’t be here right now. Which would you rather: A dead asshole, or a dead me?” She hadn’t forgotten her anger and upset over him leaving the way he did, but when she had opened her eyes and saw him leaning over her, so concerned, her heart simply burst with love.
Daniel looked at her, his expression mutinous. “But—”
“But, nothing,” Ophelia interjected. “Put him down, and let’s talk. I have just as many questions as you do, and I don’t want to have to clean up his blood, too.”
Stepping over to her counter, she leaned against the granite edge. She crossed her arms, pulling her blood-soaked shirt closed. The burns on her arms didn’t hurt anymore, which was a marvelous feeling. She watched the men and tapped her foot until Daniel reluctantly set Aden back on his feet.
The pair walked over and sat in the two chairs that weren’t involved in what happened to her. Ophelia sighed. “I don’t need y’all mad at each other over this. If anyone was going to be mad, don’t you think it should be me?” At their incredulous looks she rolled her eyes. “Hello? I was the one laying in a bloody heap on the floor a few minutes ago.”
Daniel stood up and strode over to her, taking her hands in his. He pulled her into a tight hug. It wasn’t until she was in his arms that she realized he was shaking. He pulled back enough to look at her face, bringing one hand up to cup the back of her neck beneath her hair.
“Phia, I almost lost you because someone was looking for me. This is beyond a few missing people, more than a deranged sorcerer.” He caressed her cheek and said softly. “I’m entitled to my anger, too.”
Ophelia reached up and squeezed his hand. “Yes, you are, but you shouldn’t direct it at Aden. If he hadn’t been here, things would have been a lot worse. You need to remember that.”
Ophelia kissed his cheek before stepping to the side, out of his arms. She filled them in on everything that happened from the time Sam knocked on her door, to when she realized Aden was there. Then she focused on Aden, “I want to know what happened when you showed up.”
Aden took a deep breath and faced them from the table. “When I got here, your front door was open, and I heard you whimper. Then, when I walked into the kitchen, I saw you tied to the chair. Some guy in grimy overalls was holding a knife, and your shirt was split. I didn’t think. I snuck in and grabbed him. I dragged him into the living room and we fought. Unfortunately, he hit me over the head with the hilt of his damn knife and ran back in here.”
Aden shifted his gaze to Daniel. “Ophelia stopped him with some pretty nifty magick, but it took a lot out of her. I wrestled him back a second time, but he made one last lunge and managed to stab her. I pulled him away, and when I looked back after I got her onto the floor, he was gone. I’d have attempted to track him down, but I was more concerned about Ophelia. She was bleeding a lot, and I just wanted to help her.”
Ophelia walked over on unsteady legs and kissed his cheek. “I appreciate it, Aden. There’s no way I would be standing here right now if you didn’t show up when you did. Thank you.”
Stepping back and looking down at her stomach, Ophelia frowned. A thin white line traveled a couple of inches up from her belly button. She stuck her arms out and turned them over. The horrible carpet burns were gone, and now only a couple of the really bad spots were wrinkled and scarred. Her eyes burned as she lifted her gaze to the men.
“I’d really like someone to tell me how this happened.”
Aden tugged his ear, saying nothing. Daniel squirmed, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, and something caught her eye. Heat flooded her face as she gaped at the thin red mark on his wrist—a mostly healed cut. She raised a hand to her face, feeling a rough patch on her chin. She scraped a bit, cursing at the sight of the dried blood under her nail.
Eyes narrowed, Ophelia’s voice shook when she took a couple of steps toward him, jabbing him in the chest with a finger to punctuate her words, “You damn well better tell me this was from something else Sam did that I don’t remember.�
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Daniel stepped back, arms raised to ward her off. His face was red, his eyes cloudy with apology. Without taking her focus from her vampire, she watched Aden rise out of the corner of her eye and move toward the doorway.
“I’m just gonna…yeah. See you both later!” He hurried out, and Ophelia couldn’t have cared less.
Daniel edged around her, backing up until his back pressed against the refrigerator. The room tinted green as Ophelia’s power sparked, shooting bolts of smoky emerald light from her fingertips. She stalked closer, stopping inches from his chest. With a low growl, she looked up into Daniel’s wide eyes. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use my magick to light your ass up?”
Daniel gulped and shook his head. He opened his mouth, gulped again, and shut his lips, refusing to speak. Ophelia growled at him. “I can’t believe you made me drink blood! Are you fucking crazy?” She whirled around, pacing back and forth about the room, talking with her hands, “I know I was dying, but there had to have been another way! Blood! That’s disgusting! I can’t believe you made me drink blood!”
Fists balled at her sides, Ophelia came to a halt in front of him. He reached out, taking her bunched hands in his—a brave move, to be sure. He raised both and kissed each in turn.
“You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”
Ophelia’s jaw dropped, the fire fizzling out. “I still wish you hadn’t done that,” she told him, her voice so soft she barely heard herself.
He pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her back and resting his cheek on hers. “It was the only way, Phia.” His body shook, but his arms tightened, refusing to let her pull back. “Baby, you stopped breathing,” he whispered. “I did what I had to do to keep you alive.”
Ophelia sighed, settling her cheek against his solid chest. “I know. It’s just…”
“It’s blood.”
“Yeah.” She shuddered. “Let’s talk about something else.”
Daniel leaned back, eyeing the room around them. “Like what?”
Ophelia blushed. “Like the fact that I really need to take a shower and put on a new shirt.” She tugged on the one she was wearing, pulling his eyes toward the lacy bra she wore. “This one isn’t doing its job anymore.”
Daniel looked down, the hungry look in his eyes making her smile. She pushed him away. “Nuh uh. I know what that look means, and it’s not happening. Especially not after I had a near-death experience.”
Daniel shrugged and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “If you insist.” His voice shook, and it was obvious he was still out-of-sorts from what happened before.
Ophelia squeezed his hand once before walking out of the kitchen. Once she entered the bathroom, she closed and locked the door. Leaning against the other side, she finally allowed herself to break down. Shaking, she slumped to the floor, tears streaming through the gaps in her fingers as she pressed her hands to her face.
As Ophelia sobbed quietly behind the door, she was grateful Daniel hadn’t pressed to keep her in the other room. She wouldn’t have been able to keep up her front—the whole time she’d been but a hair away from collapsing, but she’d made sure no one saw, least of all her vampire. The last few days lay heavy on her heart, and she felt weak in body and spirit. So much was happening, and so quickly, Ophelia didn’t know which way to turn.
She wanted to help her friend, and would continue to do so, but she had no idea how she would go about handling Daniel. When she talked to him and Aden, she’d lied about what she remembered. The last thing she wanted was for Daniel to worry, but she recalled a lot more than the glossy version Aden had explained. Now, sitting on the floor in her tidy bathroom, shaking like a leaf, it was all catching up with her.
Scoffing at her predicament, Ophelia dashed the tears from her eyes and pushed herself to her feet. Stripping out of her ruined clothes, she stalked to her shower and turned the water on as hot as she could stand. She’d been unable to move or see, and for the most part, her hearing was out, as well. That much was true. But when Daniel said the words, she heard him loud and clear.
As the water sluiced down her back, Ophelia mulled over the one thing that kept repeating in her tired mind: Daniel loved her. He loved her. It could never work. There was too much at stake. She needed to figure out a way to let him down easily—for his own protection. The closer they were, the worse things would get. More tears fell and washed away, swirling down the drain.
She loved a vampire she could never tell.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Daniel shoved his hands in his pockets and paced the kitchen tiles. He wasn’t born yesterday. He knew damn good and well what Ophelia was doing, joking about her shirt. Who does she think she’s fooling? He swore as his foot caught the edge of a small pool of her blood, causing him to slip. He caught himself on the edge of the counter before falling, but the sharp, coppery scent the accident called to his attention reminded him that although he’d fed, Ophelia’s blood was what he truly wanted.
Swearing again, Daniel grabbed a rag and some cleaner he found beneath the sink. His first instinct was to use his power, but after finding that spell on Aden’s house – that he still needed to speak to Ophelia about – the last thing they needed was for him to call more attention to the area. Holding his breath, he cleaned up every speck of blood between the kitchen and the living room. He also scrubbed the chairs, setting them back at the table. Once finished, he tossed the bloody rag into a plastic bag and walked it to the trashcan outside.
On his way back through the front door, he spied the trash bag sitting in the hallway. He could see clothes through the clear side, and it surprised him to realize he was looking at the clothes he’d left in Ophelia’s hamper the night before. He suddenly understood why Aden had been there, and it hurt his heart—his great-grandson had been there because he’d been too much of a coward to stick around when he learned of Ophelia’s past. No wonder she was trying to avoid him!
His curiosity piqued, he walked through the rest of her house. By the time he made it back to the kitchen, one thing was painfully clear: Ophelia had done whatever she could to erase his scent from everything—including the closet where she’d found him that afternoon. You’re a cad, he thought to himself. He hadn’t realized his actions would have that type of consequence. Although, to be fair, he wasn’t thinking clearly when he left her, either. There was something about her being the long-lost descendant of his wife and a dhampir that halted his ability to think rationally. And now he was paying the price. Some love he was showing her!
Cursing his stupidity, he stepped out onto the front porch to wait for her to finish her shower.
Ophelia was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a Dr Pepper when Daniel walked inside from where she’d seen him standing on the porch, but she didn’t look up at him. Her fingers tapped a staccato rhythm on the tabletop as she stared through her window. After falling apart, she’d decided to chance another conversation with her great-great-whatever grandmother. The dead woman had been adamant that Ophelia shouldn’t ignore Daniel’s love, and that she should fess up to her own. Ophelia’s fingers tapped harder and she frowned. She wasn’t comfortable with either bit of advice, but when she’d told Jaqueline as much, the soul-spirit laughed. According to his late wife, he wasn’t the type to give up easily.
Well, neither was Ophelia.
Shaking her head to clear her mind, she turned, looking up at Daniel with a smile. His lips curved in response, but his eyes were darkened with worry.
“I’m—”
Daniel held up a hand. “We’ll talk later about the feelings you’re trying to hide, but right now, we’re facing a much bigger problem.”
Ophelia’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me? What feelings?”
“That’s not important – don’t look at me like that – I mean the conversation about them isn't important right now.”
Biting her tongue, Ophelia ground out, “What is, then?”
“You know how you told us Sam said you
r friends couldn’t help you?” Ophelia nodded, curious despite her annoyance. “I know why he said that. Myrick’s behind this, I’m sure of it. There’s a sleep spell over Aden’s house, and you’re the only person I know that might be strong enough to break it.”
“Damn it. This is getting way to personal for my liking. Let’s go, and I’ll do what I can for them. Afterward, though, I think we need to come up with another plan—something to get rid of Jeremiah, and maybe put the brakes on Myrick. I’m getting really tired of his crap.”
The two of them left her house, taking the short walk to Aden’s. Ophelia stopped where Daniel had, feeling the electrical charge from the spell.
Taking a deep breath, Ophelia closed her eyes and extended her hands, stopping inches from the barrier. In her mind, she could see the spell’s aura. Black on white on grey, hazy and crackling like old TV static. Her body swayed to the cadence of the magic, the ebb and flow of notes, the lullaby of darkness. It coaxed and cajoled, begging her to shut her senses, welcome the darkness of sleep. The many-noted fingers caressed her mind, beckoning her forward, to a bed of eternal slumber. And there, hiding amongst the shadows, was the spell’s source.
The inky mist swirled upward, fanning out to encompass the entire house and most of the yard. Grey clouds, their lullaby playing faintly, enticed the listener with the promise of never-ending peace. Ophelia’s lips curved upward. A faint green glow danced around the grey, growing brighter and brighter. Drums pounding, cymbals crashing, the green light beat on the door of the dark, a symphony of rock to combat the sleepy tones inside.
Ophelia fisted her left hand, holding the magickal reins, and lowered her right, breaking her connection. She opened her eyes, focusing on Daniel. “I’ve never seen a spell this intricate, but I think I can handle it.”
Savage Bayou (Things that go Bump in the Bayou Book 2) Page 23