Naomi was more open with him, telling him about the life she had after her parents’ death. Kat had done the best she could, but she'd dealt with anxiety and isolation as she pushed potential friends and lovers away, unable to explain her 'madness'.
"I did have a good friend in Athens. Emma," Naomi said. "I think she suspected something was going on with me, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her. I regret that now."
"You still can," Alaric said, "there are many trusted humans who know about us."
"Yeah," Naomi mused, her eyes lighting up at his words, "maybe I will."
Each walk ended with a passionate kiss in the gardens or in front of her door. And each time it became harder and harder to leave her at her door without going further, but he told himself it was for the best.
While his evenings were relaxing, the days he spent working with Elias, Casimir and Madalena grew increasingly tense. The Alliance had stalled on making any progress in locating Raphael and the Order. Their had been sightings of him and other members all over Europe, but they could never pin him down in one location. The Ibano family was elusive as well; they had slipped from the radar ever since Raphael revealed himself at the penthouse, confirming their suspicions that they were a part of the Order as well.
"I'm not making any progress," Casimir said, one rainy afternoon in the downstairs study that had become their headquarters and meeting area. He looked up at Alaric, his face tight. "After planting that false lead in Paris, Raphael's faded from the radar. They know we're watching. They're being extra careful."
"What about other Alliance members?" Alaric asked, raking his hand through his hair.
"We're communicating with the ones Madalena trusts, but we're being cautious. There could be others on our side who are actually working for the Order. Raphael might have only been the tip of the iceberg."
"I've considered that, too," Madalena said, as she entered the room with a tray of tea.
"If that's the case, how would we find other traitors?" Elias asked. He turned a suspicious gaze onto Casimir. "If it's anyone here, I'd bet on Casimir. He has shifty eyes."
"And I'd go with Elias," Casimir said, shutting his laptop and leaning back in his chair. "He has shiftier eyes."
"Now is not the time for jokes," Alaric growled. He didn't like that the Order had gone silent. Why? What were they up to? They could be anywhere; which meant the danger for Naomi was imminent.
"Naomi's getting stronger—and better at communicating with the Stone," Madalena said. "We know the Stone's with them. Once she locates it—“
"But we don't know how long that'll take," Elias protested.
"It's all we can do for now. Stay on the surveillance . . . I'll keep talking to other Alliance members I trust. We will find Raphael."
"Perhaps we should have more guards on Naomi," Alaric murmured, worried. He should stop walking with her around the estate grounds. What if Madalena's Cloaking spell didn't cover the surrounding grounds? What if they were being watched?
"I'd rather not bring any more Alliance members here," Madalena said, shaking her head. "If someone on our side is a traitor, we'd be guiding them right to her. My Cloaking spell is strong . . . and remember, your estate isn't on anyone's radar."
Madalena trained her perceptive gaze on him; he could tell she was thinking of their conversation from a few nights ago. Casimir and Elias studied him as well; they must know by now that he and Naomi were spending their evenings together. He couldn't make it seem like his personal feelings for Naomi were influencing him, so he gave her a curt nod.
Naomi was indeed becoming stronger. He would watch her from his bedroom window as she practiced in the courtyard. While Kat and Madalena hovered behind her, she would murmur practice spells, her hands raised, her eyes closed in concentration. She looked both beautiful and powerful, the light breeze rustling her long brunette waves around her face; her magic seeming to shimmer beneath the surface of her skin. Watching her, a rush of both desire and pride coursed through him. She wore her power well.
Fiona entered his bedroom with two mugs of tea as he watched Naomi practice one morning. He nodded his thanks as she approached, he'd not spent much time with her; guilt darted through him at the realization.
He apologized for this, but she waved it off, pressing the warm mug in his hands. She froze, closing her eyes to inhale.
"What are you doing?" he asked, though he knew what she was doing.
"I knew it." Fiona smiled, taking a step back. "You smell like Naomi. It's about time. I've seen you two walking around the gardens. I haven't had the chance to talk to her much, but I can tell she's kind. It's been too long since you've had a real partner."
"How have you been?" Alaric asked, sipping his tea as he sat down in one of his armchairs, avoiding her eyes. "Done any traveling or have you just been at the estate since I last saw you?”
"I'm not going to let you do that," Fiona said, grinning. "You care for her, and she cares for you. I can tell."
"Naomi will not be my partner in the romantic sense. The Alliance needs her to destroy the Stone, and I need to focus on protecting her from the Order."
"She's not just a tool, or an object," Fiona said, scowling. "She's a living breathing woman—“
"Witch," Alaric corrected her.
"Witch," Fiona amended. "With desires like anyone else. You haven't mated with her?"
"That is none of your concern," Alaric said, through gritted teeth. "I desire her, yes, but we are friends."
"The 'just friends' argument? That's something humans do! You know that won't work with our kind. Alaric," she said, plopping down in the armchair opposite him, leaning forward to place her hand on his arm. "It's OK to let yourself be happy."
Fiona knew all about his murderous past and was thoroughly unfazed by it. She loved him anyway. She had a way of seeing the best in everyone.
"Did something happen between you and Casimir?" he asked, recalling the tension he'd noticed between them.
Fiona's entire body stilled, and he heard her heart rate increase.
"Fiona . . . did he hurt you?"
"No. It's nothing," Fiona said, flushing. "I was traveling to Prague last year. Casimir was there on assignment for the Alliance, and we bumped into each other. We—we had a brief fling. But that's it. Casimir's not the relationship type; his focus is on working for the Alliance. We both decided not to take it further. It's fine."
"You never mentioned this before. Nor did he," Alaric said, gritting his teeth. But now that he thought about it, he recalled Casimir becoming even more reserved around him the year before.
"We decided to keep it between us. Really, it's nothing. It's just . . . we weren't expecting to see each other again. It's just a little awkward. It'll pass."
Fiona lowered her gaze and took a large sip of tea; he suspected she was more hurt than she let on. She got to her feet, telling him she needed to run into town to pick up groceries. He was going to have words with Casimir.
"I thought Elias was the one I'd have to watch around my daughter," Alaric confided in Naomi that night. "I could kill Casimir. He hurt Fiona; I can see it in her eyes."
"I'd advise you not to talk to Casimir," Naomi said, " I know you care about her, but I think she'd be furious with you if you did the whole angry dad thing with him. Not to mention embarrassed. I know I would."
Alaric scowled. It had taken everything in him not to pull Casimir aside, bare his fangs, and demand exactly why he'd broken Fiona's heart. But he had to acknowledge the truth of Naomi's words.
"Have you made other vampires?" Naomi asked suddenly, giving him a curious look. He blinked; her question took him by surprise.
"No. Fiona is the only one. I think vampirism is a burden on most humans; not everyone handles it well. I made an exception for her; her father meant a great deal to me," Alaric said, his heart clenching as he thought of Duncan, Fiona's human father. He was a good man; he'd taken good care of Alaric during the grief stricken haze he'd been in after
Ileana's death.
Naomi stopped mid stride, looking up at the array of stars that blanketed the sky. He braced himself, waiting for him to ask more about his past.
"I've been living in cities for so long . . . I've almost forgotten what stars look like," she said, and relief flowed through him.
"It's what I miss about the countryside," he admitted, following her gaze. They were only inches apart now, and her sweet scent overwhelmed his senses; he had to struggle not to inhale. He looked down at her, his eyes roaming from the long line of her throat, her elegantly carved jaw, her sensual mouth. Her eyes strayed from the sky to meet his; they were dark and filled with desire.
This time, when their lips met, he instinctively knew kissing wouldn't be enough. He was tired of ignoring his instincts; he could no longer override them. Let yourself be happy, his daughter had said. Couldn't he allow himself this one taste of the woman he cared for, this woman who had consumed his thoughts since he first laid eyes on her? One taste, he told himself. That's all it would be.
When they broke apart, he took her hand, leading her back inside the estate. Naomi's eyes widened when he took her to his bedroom, stopping just outside the door. He hesitated, looking down at her. He wanted this to be her choice.
"God, yes," she whispered; it was all he needed. He swept her up into his arms, her heart rate pounding in tandem with his.
He took his time disrobing her, kissing every inch of her exposed and heated flesh, before rising to fuse his lips to hers. She gasped against his mouth when he sank into her, moaning as he began to move, their eyes locked, their entire world comprising only each other. Her soft warm flesh against his cold skin felt just perfect; it was as if their bodies were made for each other. A part of him that had been empty before was filled with raw emotions; hope, satisfaction, joy. His blood sang as they cried out their mutual release; their bodies melded together, complete.
Chapter 20
As Naomi came to, she slowly became aware of Alaric's presence beside her. She smiled as she sat up, taking in every detail of the gorgeous vampire. The strong line of his jaw dotted with a faint stubble, the dark sweep of his lashes against his ivory skin. The lips that had touched to every inch of her skin the night before.
Unable to help herself, she reached out to touch his face, a feather light touch that trailed along his jaw, warmth flaring through her. Their evening kissing sessions had left her aching for more; several times she'd even considered begging him to take her. When he'd led her to his bedroom door, the hope and desire that flowed through her was so strong she feared she'd explode.
She stretched and slipped out of bed, slipping on Alaric's discarded shirt to cover her nudity. It smelled of him; amber spice and a hint of oak. She felt a little silly, but couldn't resist breathing in his scent, before moving to the balcony that looked out on the back gardens.
Stepping out onto the balcony, she inhaled the early morning breeze. A lightness she hadn't experienced in years—or possibly ever—flowed through her. Astonishment hit her when she looked down. She was hovering several inches above the ground. She was floating.
Naomi smiled, recalling what Kat had told her. Your mother literally floated through the house when she fell in love with your father.
At the thought, she drifted back to the ground. Was she falling in love with Alaric? She knew she was attracted to him; wildly and passionately so. But did her feelings go beyond desire?
As she struggled with this question, whispers filled her mind, and she stiffened. They were the same whispers from the Stone. But she was nowhere near it as far as she knew, and she wasn't conducting a Locator spell. But the whispers filled her mind unbidden, growing in volume until they were a roar. She sank to the ground, pressing her hands to the sides of her head.
Alaric was suddenly at her side, cradling her in his arms, his eyes wild with worry. He was saying something to her, but his voice was far away; she couldn't make out his words. Her surroundings dimmed as the whispers increased, strangled and raw.
Alaric lifted her into his arms, darting through the estate at an impossible speed, shouting for Madalena. She tried to focus on Alaric; she needed something to center her, otherwise the whispers, which were now as loud as screams, would overwhelm her.
Alaric settled her on the bed of another bedroom. He stroked her hair and murmured soothing words as Madalena and Kat raced inside. Kat was shouting and Madalena fired questions at her, but she could barely make out their words.
She pressed her hands over her ears and closed her eyes, curling into a protective ball, craving silence. It was only when she heard the soothing baritone of Alaric's voice by her ears that she opened her eyes.
"Focus only on my voice. Remember to breathe. You have the power to come back to yourself when you are ready. You are with me, you are safe. I won't let any harm come to you."
A calm filled her at his words, and the tension in her body dissipated. She took several deep breaths, and the whispers faded to a murmur. She opened her eyes, focusing only on Alaric's blue glaze.
"When you are ready, you can tell us what happened. Madalena and Kat will allow you to talk," he said, giving them sharp looks over his shoulder. "But only when you are ready. If you want to just lie here, you can. Just keep focusing on your breaths."
Keeping her eyes locked on his, Naomi spoke.
"While I was standing on the balcony . . . the whispers came out of nowhere. It was like the Stone was trying to get my attention. And once it did . . . the whispers became screams. Screams of pain," she whispered, "like it was being tampered with or harmed. And it wanted me to know."
Alaric nodded, squeezing her hand. She could tell that he was trying to appear calm and reassuring for her sake, but she saw the worry that lurked in his eyes.
"Raphael's probably tampering with the Stone," Madalena murmured, "maybe they've grown impatient with trying to abduct you. They could attempt to activate the Stone on their own, which would cause it a lot of distress."
"You're talking about the Stone like it's a living thing," Kat said, her brow furrowed.
"In a way, it is." Madalena sighed. "Enchanting an object almost humanizes it; it becomes linked to the witch who performed the spell. When the First Witches imbued the Stone with their spell, they put a part of themselves in it."
"If the Order's trying to activate the Stone themselves, does this mean they'll stop hunting Naomi?" Kat asked hopefully.
"No," Alaric growled, "their tampering won't work. They'll keep coming for her."
"Now that you've opened up communication with the Stone, I'm afraid this will continue," Madalena said, turning her focus to Naomi. "You'll have to intensify your attempts to locate it with your magic."
"Are you trying to drive my niece insane?" Kat demanded. "She's had enough if this."
"Even if Naomi leaves this all behind and goes to a safe house, the Stone will still affect her, Katherine. It's like the Locking spell her parents placed on her. Once it's unleashed . . . "
"It'll never go away." Naomi finished the sentence for her, closing her eyes. Even though the whispers she'd heard on the balcony had subsided, they were still circling in her mind, though they were faint now. "The only way to make the whispers stop is to destroy the Stone."
"Exactly." Madalena gave her a look of sympathy. "You'll have to practice even harder to clear your mind and calm yourself . . . otherwise, this could damage your psyche."
"I'm used to it," Naomi muttered, recalling the years she'd spent hearing unexplained whispers, experiencing odd sensations. A look of guilt flickered across Kat's face; she was thinking the same thing.
"I'll help you as much as I can," Madalena said, "I'll leave you alone for now. You can rest in here as long as you'd like."
"Breakfast is downstairs whenever you're ready," Kat said, leaning forward to kiss Naomi's forehead. "Please eat and take care of yourself, OK? I know I'm just human, but I do know that neglecting the basics can make all this magic stuff worse."
> Kat gave Alaric a long and vaguely suspicious look before leaving them alone; Naomi wondered if her aunt suspected what happened between them last night. Alaric started to leave as well, but she clutched his hand, stopping him.
"Stay," she whispered, “please."
He obliged, sliding into bed with her, pulling her into the warmth of his arms.
"You scared me," he murmured, leaning forward to bury his head in her hair.
"Sorry," she said, cracking a wry smile. "Hey . . . at least I'm used to having breakdowns."
He returned her smile, but a hint of worry remained in his expression.
"At least I know what may be causing it," Naomi continued. "Now I'm even more determined to destroy the damn thing."
He tensed at her words.
"Alaric?"
"You're right," he said, "destroying the Stone is important. It's why you're with us." He spoke as if he were reminding himself. "Naomi, last night—“ he began.
She sat up, glaring down at him.
"Don't you dare apologize, or say it can't happen again. I've wanted you since I saw you in Athens. And you want me, too."
"I wasn't going to apologize," he said, giving her one of his intoxicating smiles. "I was going to say it's the best night I've had in a long time."
"You could flatter me," she said, smiling. "You've been alive for over four hundred years. You could say it was the best night you've had . . . ever."
"Well, I wouldn't say that," Alaric began, and she reached for a pillow, hitting him with it. "OK, OK. It was. It was, Naomi. Truly. I couldn't resist you."
"You keep saying that like it's a bad thing," she said. "Why have you been holding back? And don't say anything about needing to protect me from the Order, it's something else. What?"
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