by K Loraine
I bite back the angry retort I want to let fly and instead say, “My magic is nearly gone. I’m practically human at the moment, and they have a notoriously bad track record at identifying supernatural…anythings.”
I should probably be more upset about this development. A vampire had me in his arms, up against a wall—panting for him, really. I’d been moments away from going with him and climbing him like a tree. Even now, I miss the feeling of him touching me, of his lips on mine. Had I been so wrong all this time to think we couldn’t mix? Maybe Truly had been right when she told me to look outside of our kind.
“Are vampires really that bad?” I ask.
Dex gives me a look of utter shock. “Are you kidding?”
“It’s not like he’s a Blackthorne. He’s just…Silas. He helped me when the curse first transported me here, got me to safety, hasn’t taken a drop of my blood. He doesn’t seem bad to me.”
“Oh sure, that’s what they want you to think, until you’re nothing but a drained corpse in some alley. Vampires will seduce you right to your death. It’s what they’re made for.”
He sighs and pulls onto a dirt road on the outskirts of Salem proper. I frown, unsure of my surroundings, unprotected, and with a man I don’t know very well. “Where are we going? This isn’t how we get to the house.”
“I’m not taking you to the coven. I’m taking you to the place Persephone has set up for you.” The tightness in his voice has me wishing I could read his mind. “You’ll be safe…and so will we.”
We pull up to a small cottage, smoke curling from the chimney, a warm light glowing in the two windows at the front of the house. It’s old. That much is obvious from the structure and design alone. Mud-chinked logs make up the four walls, and the drooping roof is covered in the last evidence of fall, rotting leaves and damp. An old well sits to the right of the house, moss growing on the stones, a sign of long abandonment. There’s a wood pile stacked against one side of the cabin though, evidence someone prepared for this.
How can I be safe here? Because I’m away from them, maybe? But I feel the magical wards as we cross through them, and Dex parks in front of the covered porch with its rotting wood stairs and warped doorframe. “What is this place?” I ask.
“It’s the site of Sarah Good’s original coven house. This is where our coven used to practice in secret. Where she was found and dragged to prison. It holds all our history.”
My stomach churns at the thought of the psychic imprint this house must hold. Fine hairs stand up along my arms, sending a chill down my spine. It’s uncomfortable and exciting all at the same time. My soul belongs here.
The two of us get out of the car at the same time, our feet crunching on the gravel as we approach the house. There’s a bite of woodsmoke in the air and the chill of approaching winter sends a goosebumps across my skin. The door creaks open without either of us knocking and, standing inside, I find Persephone. She’s alone with a grave expression on her face and a silver stake in her hands.
“I’m sorry it has to come to this, child. You’re a danger to us all until this curse is broken. Face the vampire, kill him. Then you can be free.” She hands me the stake and grips my shoulder. “The house is warded against all who want to do you harm, but the whispers in the woods tell me the Blackthornes have dark magic on their side as well.”
“You’re leaving me here?”
She nods. “I’m leaving you with your legacy at your fingertips. You’re more linked with this house than any of us. Perhaps you’ll find the heirlooms we’ve saved useful in your journey. Your gran wouldn’t have given you that charm without a reason. Use this time to connect with Sarah, find yourself, and tap into the power you’re destined for.”
She strides to Dex and places her hand on his. “As for you, we’ll talk about what you did shortly. I can’t believe you left her.”
Before I can offer anything that might help Dex, the two of them vanish, and I’m alone. The house is small, bare—save a chair near the fire, an old wooden table, and a small bed at the far end of the room. I wonder at Sarah’s living situation. Did she keep her true identity from her husband and daughter? She couldn’t have. Her daughter went on to continue our line. But this was a secret place. This was where all the magic happened.
I walk the few paces from one end of the space to the other, everything eerie and familiar. My head spins, the floor seeming to shift under my feet, and I brace myself on the rough stone mantle over the fireplace as my past life comes back with a vengeance.
This time I’m here, in this house, but everything is different. There’s no modern sink, no electric lights. I’m warmed by the fire, the pentacle in my hand heavy as I rush to a corner and whisper, “Retego.” A golden glow emanates from the cracks around the floor and a rectangle of wood disappears. I hold my hands out, hands that look nothing like my own. The nails are dirty and worn, knuckles red and skin rough from tough work. These hands have seen hardship.
A small chest, no bigger than a backpack, rises under my will. The pentacle dangling from a chain around my wrist is heavy, and as soon as the chest reaches floor level, the metal pulls toward its engraved mate on the lid. A key. The pentacle is a damn key.
The room brightens, and the chest disappears from my vision, everything returning to its modern state, but my gaze goes to the corner. The place Sarah had secreted away her most precious things. Grabbing the pentacle, I stride to the spot, kneel down, and hold my palm over the same place. “Retego,” I say. Nothing happens. Not a spark of power from me.
“Damn.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I need to focus. To pull my remaining power into my center. Then I try again. And again. And again. I try until my eyes ache with exhaustion and the sun begins rising, coloring the sky visible through the windows a soft periwinkle.
My gaze goes to the clouds, the warm colors of sunrise seeping in and reminding me of the place Gran always restored her power. Maybe I can use the earth and sky to recharge. It’s what I have to do if I want to get to that chest.
9
Silas
Searing pain covers every inch of exposed skin on my body, wrenching me from sleep with a scream. I’m outside. In the bloody daylight. How? I run as fast as my sun-leached energy will allow to save myself from burning to death right here and now.
Under cover of thick trees, I hide in the shade. My skin prickles even as it heals. Something wicked is definitely at play here. Again, this isn’t my haven in the sealed bathroom of the hotel room. The only thing that saved me from incineration is the cloud cover and the misty rain falling from the sky. The air smells clean and fresh, with the undercurrent of magic. Not like the city scents of London—damp, but covered in layers of exhaust and people and…living. This is solitude. It’s peace.
There’s a small house past the clearing. I can hear a single heartbeat through the walls. I’ll have to wait out the daylight until I have the chance to get my bearings and figure out where the hell I am. My burns sting and pull at my face while the slow healing process moves along. I won’t be able to fully regenerate until I’ve fed. It’s been too long. I should have taken from Natalie before I left her.
The thought of Natalie’s blood giving me life has my hunger growing impossibly. But she isn’t the kind of donor I need. She’s the kind I’d keep. I should have left her to rest instead of staying at her side all night. Then I could have fed, and now I’d be healed and strong. At this point, should any hunters come my way, I’m a sitting duck.
A shift at the window has me on edge. Maybe the person will come close enough for me to compel them, for me to lure them into the dark so I can feed. I’d stand a chance if I had to fight.
I try to get to my feet, to prepare myself to spring and take this victim, but the back door opens and I see…her. Natalie. The one woman I want with a ferocity I haven’t felt in centuries. A low, gnawing ache takes hold in the pit of my stomach and my fangs slide down, filling my mouth as the wind catches her scent and sends it str
aight to me.
She holds her palms out, catching the rain, which has now turned to fat drops from the fine mist of earlier, and the water soaks her in moments. It does nothing to ease the need I have for her. The white top she’s wearing goes nearly translucent, and her long, shapeless skirt clings to her body as she begins to twirl in the storm. Lightning cracks across the sky, thunder comes from out of nowhere, and I’m fixated on the nymph before me. Her nipples are hard and dark under the fabric of her top, the droplets of water running down her throat tempting me to lick them clean.
Instead of calling her to me, I watch. My hand slides down to the hard length in my trousers, a quiet hiss escaping my lips at the friction of the slight touch. I have to bite back a groan when she tosses her head back, arms spread wide, drenched clothes practically painted to her body now. I can see every curve, every line, and I want it all. She pulls a blade from a sheath at her hip and slices both palms, the red blood welling and calling to me. Fuck. I won’t survive her. I’m tempted to pull my cock free here and now, stroke myself to the sight of her, and spend my release while I watch her dance. Voyeurism isn’t really my thing, but for her…I might experiment.
The feel of the air around us changes, and she kneels, pressing her bleeding palms to the wet earth and whispering. My ears perk up as I try to catch the words she’s saying. But the wind kicks into high gear and the clouds roll and darken. Lightning strikes the ground in front of her, the current of electricity making the hairs stand on my arms and the back of my neck. She doesn’t cower. Doesn’t fall. She harnesses the elements and pulls that power into her. I’ve only seen a person do this one other time, and it was the witch who nearly brought the end of vampires to my doorstep. The very witch my family tormented. Sarah Good.
My gut turns to ice. “Witch,” I murmur.
Her head snaps up, eyes locking on my position with laser focus. But she doesn’t see me. She won’t because I don’t want her to. I might be injured, but I’m still fast enough to hide. Her brow furrows, and she gets to her feet, knife in hand, a line of crimson trailing down the hilt of the blade. She’s pure and raw with her hair dripping in long tendrils of ebony over her shoulders and chest.
She’s why I’m here. The cause of me being pulled from my home, first to a cemetery, then to the club in Boston, now her fucking backyard. But why? Whatever the reason, I can’t let her out of my grasp now that I see her power. She’s a danger to us all—to herself. There are still plenty of Blackthornes who would want a witch like her in their thrall.
Her gaze rakes the tree line, searching for me. She knows I’m here—can sense me now that I made a noise.
“Go away, witchy woman,” I chant silently. I don’t want to feed from her like this. I want to take her into my arms and hear my name fall from her lips in a cry of pleasure, not a scream of fear. If she inspects the surrounding area and finds me, she’ll come up against a hungry and injured vampire, not the controlled man I’ve worked so hard to become. We don’t all have to be monsters just because that’s what our fathers were.
“Vampire,” she murmurs. Her voice is so low even my preternaturally strong hearing can barely make out the word.
I can’t hide from her, not now that I’ve outed myself. She’s seen me. Pulling together every ounce of self-control I possess, I stand and walk to the tree line. “Witch.”
She cocks a hip, the rain dying down to nearly nothing now. “You look like hell.”
“I thought I might try a bit of sunbathing.”
“How’d that work out for you?”
I shrug, fighting the pain in my body. “Still not immune to the sun.”
“Lucky me.”
A tugging sensation takes hold in my gut, forcing me closer to her, forcing me out into the daylight even though everything in me screams to stop. This connection, this thing drawing us together is too powerful. It’s going to get me killed.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice high and tense.
“I can’t stop. I’ve been trying to tell you. Something keeps bringing me to you.”
“The curse,” she whispers.
I want to ask what the fuck she’s talking about, but I’m full on in the sun now and soon, I won’t be able to do much other than burn. My skin sizzles as soon as the light touches it and it’s all I can do not to let out an agonized scream. She’s my only chance. “Let me inside. I have to get out of the sun, Natalie.”
“But, you’re a vampire. You lied.”
Her apprehension is killing me, quite literally, and I don’t have time to be patient. “God, woman, I never lied. You didn’t ask. I’ve done nothing but save you and kiss you until you were breathless. If I wanted to kill you, you’d have been dead three times over.” I’m smoldering now. Smoke curls up from my arms and chest. In seconds, I’ll burst into flames.
She bites her lower lip but grabs my elbow and tugs me toward the house. I pull free of her grasp, not wanting her to get burned if fire breaks out as we run. She opens the door and steps inside, but I’m stuck standing on the threshold, blinding pain dancing across my back.
“I need you to invite me.”
Her eyes widen, knife brandished like she’s considering stabbing me. I’d gladly take a blade in the belly over turning to ash on her doorstep. “It’s not my house.”
“Just fucking do it!”
“Silas, please come in.”
I fall forward, kicking the door closed behind me, and she’s there, kneeling at my side, brushing my hair away from my face. “Are you okay?” she asks.
“I will be.” Her clothes are still sopping wet, transparent and taunting me. My fangs descend and my cock hardens even through all the pain I’m in. “I need to get somewhere dark or I have to feed. Preferably both.”
She swallows, her heart thrumming in her chest at a rapid pace as she backs away, but my hand flashes out and grabs her wrist, stopping her.
“Feed?”
“On blood. It’s what we do.”
“We. As in…vampires.”
“Yes.”
She pushes me back, her bloody palm leaving red streaks on my shirt, making it even more difficult for me not to take her. I grip her wrist again and catch her other hand, the one holding the knife, as it rises in defense. She’s strong. She’ll try to kill me if she can. She will fail. Then I bring her bleeding hand to my lips and trail my tongue along the cut. Bliss explodes across my tastebuds and sends bursts of lust straight to the aching erection in my pants. Fucking hell, she’s too good.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“You’re bleeding.”
“You licked me.”
“Did you miss the part where I’m a vampire? I’m hurt because of you, because of whatever is happening to bring us together. I need to heal.”
“I didn’t give you permission.”
Giving her a wicked grin, I tease, “I’ll take care of you, you take care of me.”
“What do you mean?”
I prick my thumb with the tip of my fang and run the blood over her wound. She gasps in surprise as it knits back together before her eyes.
“I’m…not sure I can let you bite me. You shouldn’t even be in here.” I can see her closing down. She’s not going to be easy to win over, but the truth is, I can’t wait the three nights it’ll take for me to fully heal from this. I need to feed from her now. If I wait, I’ll be ravenously hungry, and someone will die to sate my thirst.
“Then get me to a dark place so I can heal on my own. It’ll take a while.”
Fear takes hold in her gaze and her face goes pale. “No. You can’t be here when the coven returns. They’ll kill you and probably leave me for the curse because I helped you. Witches around here don’t like vampires.”
“Then let me feed.”
Indecision flickers across her features. “I don’t—”
“I just need enough to heal. They won’t even know I was here.”
“And you’ll leave at nightfall?”
&
nbsp; “If that’s what you want.”
She bites her lower lip, considering my offer. “I could just kill you and be done with it.”
“But then you’ll never know the truth about being with a vampire. Something in your eyes says you’re curious.”
“I could find another one.”
That makes my blood boil. No one will lay a hand on her. My brow furrows as confusion curls in my gut. But the more I’m with her, the more I want her. I swore I’d never take another blood slave when I left my family all those years ago, but maybe I could take a lover. “Do what you must. Either kill me, let me stay, or give me blood. Those are your options.”
“Will it hurt?”
God, I ache. I need her. She’s so close but I won’t take from her unless she offers. “I can…make it good. It won’t hurt if I don’t want it to.”
Indecision flickers in her eyes, but she pulls her hair away from her throat and leans down. “Like this?”
I have to fight my groan. “Yes. Just like that. Close your eyes. Try to stay calm.”
She murmurs, “Mm-hmm.”
Then my lips are on her throat and my fangs sink into her flesh. Her blood is like nothing I’ve ever tasted. It’s magic and perfection and the beautiful blend of pure bliss and pain all rolled into one. From this moment, I know the truth about her. She’s not simply a witch who’s put me under a spell. She’s the one creature on this earth made for me. Natalie is my mate.
10
Natalie
Oh. My. God.
Pleasure races over my body, converging between my legs in a rush. The vampire didn’t lie when he said he’d make it good. Silas feeding from me is like nothing I’ve felt. The soft groans coming from him indicate he’s enjoying himself as well, and I need more. I need skin to skin, body to body, soul to fucking soul right now.
My hands trail across his back, the strong muscles shifting under my touch. He’s beautiful. I can’t even see him right now and I know it’s the truth. My head spins and everything goes hazy, and I wonder if this is how I’ll die. It doesn’t seem like the curse would let me go so softly, on the wings of euphoria rather than in terror.