by E E Everly
“I met her. She came to me after that night.”
After he bit me the first time. You have to be kidding me. “How?”
“When your roommates walked in on me drinking your blood, they freaked out. Their reaction was enough for me to pull myself from you. I was so horrified I raced off into the night, beating myself up.”
I slide down onto the cushions, placing my feet on the hearthrug. “I know this part.” Killian is about a foot away. As I recall how he climbed into bed with me—an event we still haven’t discussed—I hope he won’t move away, even if he is frustrated. He wants me near. I smell the soot on his clothes mingled with his strange vampire scent, a sweetness that reminds me of baked apple pie.
How does my blood smell to him?
“I fell into a fitful rest that day.” He looms over me, his face canted as if he’s a predator listening for his prey. “Your mother appeared in what must have been the astral projection you told me about.”
“You didn’t find her sudden appearance weird?”
“I thought it was a dream. She told me who she was and that she was watching me. She saw what I did to you. Racked with guilt, I begged her to forgive me. Astra said she saw qualities in me that made her want to give me another chance.”
I smile. I know what my mother saw. His worth, despite whatever mistakes he’s made. His potential and his inherent integrity is the reason I believe Killian is more than his vampire self.
My hands land somewhere on his waist as I reach for him. Killian follows my progress as I fumble for a belt loop and tug him closer. With no hesitation, Killian complies until he’s standing between my legs and staring down at me on the couch. I hold on to his belt loops and angle my head upward. It’s an awkward position for me to stare up at him. I could place my chin on his stomach I’m so close.
A certainty tells me this is okay, and Killian’s okay with my bold advances. Sasha, don’t become carried away. I remind myself of my original purpose. Comfort. Surely my presence is a comfort to him as much as his has been for me. I remember his sigh when he was sitting on my bed. What cares weighed him down then? Are they the same as they are now? Sasha, he slid into bed with you.
Our nighttime cuddle has to mean something. Unless he was taking comfort just as I am trying to give him now.
My fingertips slip from his belt and graze his midsection, over his T-shirt. I’ve initiated contact. My finger pads are alive with electricity. I’m afraid to do what I really want, although I bet my heart rate betrays my feelings because the organ’s in my throat, pounding, thrumming my blood through the veins Killian would love to puncture. Thoughts of my blood bring me back to the one truth I’ve established but haven’t told Killian—he’s my vampire. Perhaps he knows this.
I am as much his storm sprite.
My fingers dare press into him. His abs are unyielding. I can’t believe how much we’ve touched in the past few days. I can’t believe he lets me touch him now. An urge to dig my fingers into his skin makes me grip his belt. I want to pull him down on top of me, but I put tension into my fingers and restrain myself.
My lashes flutter, and I blush, becoming flustered because I’m finally admitting to myself that it’s so much more than attraction I feel for Killian. Too much too fast, I remind myself. Reassure him. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit.”
I almost jump when he runs his fingers along my nape, playing with the strands that escaped my ponytail.
“I hate your blind faith in me,” he says.
I hold back a moan as his gesture becomes more seductive than I’m sure he intends. He’s played with my hair before. He’s poked me. He’s teased me. But right now, everything feels different. Charged, and it’s more than just the atmosphere. Something’s going on between Killian and me, and all I can yell in my head is, Do something more than run your fingers through my hair! Please. My thoughts become more wistful the longer Killian explores my neck.
Responding to his comment sounds foreign because so much time has passed since he last spoke. “My faith in you is not blind,” I say with slow words that become lost in the space between us. I resist closing my eyes and leaning into his caress. Focus, Sasha. “Just because you’re a vampire doesn’t mean that defines you.” Because I don’t care that you’re a vampire. “Your choices define you.”
“I’ve screwed up, a lot.” He lays his hand over my hand, which has returned to playing with his belt loop. A teasing voice lifts his tone. “I guess you’re saying I’m a screw-up.”
I don’t want to be teasing, but I swat his stomach because his remark calls for it. Killian surprises me by grabbing my hand and pressing it to his chest. I’m excited his pecs are every bit as firm and as powerful as I imagined. His heart rate is steady.
That’s not fair because mine’s pounding in my chest. “You are a brave person.” Without my consent, my other hand roams his six-pack, tracing the hard contours. I’m not the least bit angry about appendages having a mind of their own. “You’ve made difficult choices. Some of them have been mistakes. That’s what makes us human.” I inwardly chide myself over my word choice. I’m a storm sprite—part human—but I wouldn’t call my mistakes human.
Killian snickers, yet his tone is serious. “I am so not human.”
I nudge his knee with my knee, annoyed the mood is changing. “You know what I mean.”
Killian turns to the side, leaving my fingers to trail around his ribs. “I don’t think very highly of myself.”
I’m desperate to return to comforting Killian. My actions were soothing me, easing my state of mind, lulling myself into security, even if we are about to face demons. I tug Killian back in my direction and smooth my hands over his abs, creeping them up to his chest.
My thoughts jump ahead. Could I seduce a vampire? Would Killian let me?
Sasha!
A sad idea comes to me. Is this his vampire compulsion thing making me roam Killian’s chest and abdomen? I don’t like the idea of being compelled to do something, but is exploring Killian’s body really so bad if I want to do it myself? Maybe just not jump ahead so fast. But if my flirty fingers are because of compulsion, does that mean Killian secretly wants me to seduce him?
We’re treading on dangerous ground, but I can’t stop myself. Get back to reason! I grope for sense. Out of all my bolstering talk, my next words come out too sensual, emphasized by my palms smoothing across his stomach. “I think very highly of you.” He’ll think I’m nuts.
He’s suddenly motionless and not touching me. I’ve alerted him to some deeper meaning by my inflection. Did he not guess before? What did he think I was doing? What am I to believe every time he flirts with me? He’s a man; he can’t be so naïve as to think he doesn’t affect me. He knows exactly how I respond physically.
Killian’s back in possession of reason, giving me the brush-off. Maybe he was about to go all vampy and he had to rein himself in. “We shouldn’t be… talking about this.”
You mean I shouldn’t be fondling you like this.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I screwed up, but I’m too crippled with embarrassment to take my hands off him. Instead I freeze, and my voice comes out harsh. “Fine. Let’s get back to my mother.”
Just like that, we’re onto a new subject. “You won’t like what I have to say.”
I crumple the front of his shirt in my hand, clenching my fist with irritation, and tug downward, indicating the direction I want him to go so he’ll look me in the eyes. Killian takes the hint and drops to his knees. We are practically nose-to-nose. “Just say it.”
“She asked me to fulfill my life debt to you. Because she said I ‘had restraint’ and she knew I wouldn’t hurt you again, she’d grant my heart’s desire if I swore…” Killian glances away. “If I swore I’d protect you.”
I slouch back like a deflating balloon. “What?” My mother has her fingers in everything, but why couldn’t she tell me this? Or why couldn’t Killian?
He leans forward, taking m
y hand. I would have welcomed his hand in mine ninety seconds ago when we were flirting, but his confession has me confused and hurt. I need space to think.
I shift my hips. I’m pinned because Killian’s against my knees. There’s no escape from his imposing presence. My emotions tell me I’m upset, that I should react, but his compulsion telling me to sink into him glides up my veins, fuzzing my thoughts.
This urge must be about Killian wanting to drink my blood, because I don’t believe it’s because he has feelings for me.
But the compulsion is strong. Why haven’t I been able to fight it lately?
Killian holds me powerless. “Sasha.” His hand feathers against my cheek.
Tears bead in my eyes as I fight falling into his arms. “You are tasked to protect me,” I whisper. It’s a blow, and the truth hurts worse than believing he trails me around for my blood. All those times he’s followed me. All those times I hoped his presence was because of something else, that I had this connection with him—I thought he had a connection to me. You were so faithful to the idea of who he could be, more than just a monster but a man who loves, that you didn’t stop to consider his motivations.
Silly Sasha.
He’s a vampire.
He made a deal motivated by a past he wanted to fix. That’s what vampires do.
Why did I ever hope he could overcome his demons?
I shake my head when Killian swipes a tear from my cheek. No. It doesn’t matter that he’s a vampire.
But he’s a vampire that has me under his compulsion, and he probably doesn’t realize it.
I dig at my collar and pull at the bulletproof vest. I can’t breathe. The atmosphere has thickened. Rain pounds the rooftop. The clouds unleash its fury with my tears. The vamps should be in position. Does Killian sense any seed demons or have I been too much of a distraction?
I want to give them hell. My heart pounds with the rain. After knocking his hand away, I push against Killian’s chest. “My mother promised she would restore your sister if you protected me.” It’s not a question, just my brain trying to make sense of her deal.
“For the eighteen years you’re on Earth.”
“She told you about my curse?” That isn’t her business to share.
He puts his hands on the couch, on both sides of my legs. “She told me you were unable to return to Belyven for the time being, not that you were under a curse.”
Right. I just gave that tidbit away. Sasha sucks at keeping secrets. “Did she tell you that if I tried entering Belyven before my thirty-sixth birthday, I’d become deathly ill and eventually die?”
“No.”
“I guess she didn’t tell you it was my father who cursed me and it happened before I knew he was a demon.”
Killian looks pained. “No.”
His distorted expression is too much for me. “It’s every eighteen years. Every eighteen years I can go back to Belyven, but every eighteen years I have to come back here.”
“Sasha, I didn’t know.” His voice is sorrowful, as if this is the worst news he could ever hear.
What does he care? He has me for now, his delicious storm sprite all to himself. And I am more than willing to give myself to him, according to my body’s insistence to comply with his compulsion.
“Of course you didn’t. I didn’t ever plan to tell you.” Because why would I tell him I didn’t elect to stay here as other storm sprites did when the gateway between worlds was closed? I had to come. I had no choice.
I didn’t want Killian to know I’d leave if I could.
My curse is beside the point. Right now is about my mother’s promise. “This is all some sort of twisted scheme she has. Can’t you see?”
“What do you mean?”
I scoff, and my shoulders shake with an indignant laugh. “Astra’s using you! She hates vampires, and she hates seed demons. She only told you she could restore Anya because she wants me protected since she can’t do it herself. She can’t change the curse the demons cast on me and that makes her furious.” I shove Killian. He doesn’t budge. “Curse you and your vamp strength.”
To my relief he leans back. I pull my legs free and jump to my feet. I’m furious with the secret my mother and my vampire have kept from me, but deep down I know that if she or Killian had told me he was there for my protection, I would have fought it wing and limb.
Because I’m not a child!
I’m a young storm sprite who thought I was falling in love with a vampire! I imagined his growing closer when it was only to watch me.
Yet, my brain says, he has grown closer to you.
That was inevitable. Duty often blurs lines with the heart, so don’t read too much into his recent actions.
Even so, I feel icky, mostly because I made a fool of myself. I rub my upper arms. Lousy leprechauns! I am so dumb.
Killian stands, much too near. “Sasha.” He thinks to reach out, but his hand stops before it brushes me.
“Mother!” I clench my fists and squeeze my nails into the flesh. “Mother!” Astral project your lying butt here.
“Sasha. It’s okay.”
“No.” I push Killian away when he tries to take my hands. “I want her to come here and tell you the truth, tell you if she can actually restore Anya and free you from your obligation to me.” It’s the only way I can be sure about Killian’s feelings. Lose the duty. Reveal the heart.
“It’s not an obligation to you.”
I swallow back the lump in my throat. “What do you call it then? Forced servitude? A responsibility? Is that what I am for you?”
“No. It’s never been any of those things.”
“Then what is it? Completing a transaction so you and your sister can be free?”
Killian paces away from me. “Sasha, do you not know anything?”
“Are you calling me stupid?” I refrain myself from jumping on his back and pounding on him.
Killian faces me, dragging his hands down his face as if he’s weary of our conversation. “Not stupid, but you are being irrational.”
He wants to talk about being reasonable? “You use compulsion on me all the time. You twist my reason.”
He steps right up to me and lowers his voice. “If you felt my compulsion, it’s only because it mimics my real feelings. It always has. It always will.”
I step back, afraid I might fling myself into his arms, because he’s too close and I desperately hate this fight. “Your real feelings?”
“Yes!” His expression has a hint of a smile, but his face is serious. “Love is a real feeling, Sasha. Vampires still feel love. I can feel love.”
What? Love, he says. Love? Is he out of his mind?
He can’t really love me, can he?
My vision narrows as unexpected panic grips me. A ringing in my ears grows to alarm bells. I wave my hands as if I’m warding Killian away. I’m aware my breaths are shallow. “Oh no. You can’t.” My sight is blurred, but Killian braces my shoulders as I wrap my arms around my midsection. This is what you wanted to hear, isn’t it, Sasha?
Suddenly I don’t know.
Suddenly I’m aware of how ridiculous it is for a storm sprite to love a vampire.
I bow my head to my chest. “It’s not love.”
“It is.”
Duty aside, how do I know his affection is not based solely on his desire for my blood? I’ve felt his compulsion signifying his yearning for a taste. How can he possibly tell the difference between love and his thirst? “You mean you just love me or you are in love with me?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”
“You’re undead.” I cackle. This is absurd. All those times I toyed with him, flirting, teasing him because of his fondness for my blood. I wiggle my shoulders, trying to shimmy away from him. He won’t have it.
Killian tries to bring me back to my senses. My vision tunnel has not lessened. I have to get away. My body won’t move on its own accord, so I call to my spirit. My wings crack open. The room flood
s with an ethereal light, obliterating my tunnel vision. Killian blinks and shields his eyes as I flit to the room’s other side.
He speaks words that are lost because, over the holler of the raging storm outside, the front door flies off its hinges, careens into Killian, and slams him into the far wall.
EIGHTEEN
Five big biker dudes, obviously inhabited by seed demons, rush into the cabin with massive guns. I have no idea what kind they are, but any gun will kill a vamp if you hit him enough times. I hope they don’t have silver rounds.
Killian is pinned under the door. I can’t let him vamp out and jump up just to be shot, so I need to distract the demons. They’re here for me anyway, and I’m supposed to play hard to get.
I flit to the opposite side of the cabin, accidentally whacking my head on a beam.
I curse. Stupid low ceilings.
Thunder booms outside, mirroring my pain.
Disoriented, I rub my head and wince. The secret of my wings is out, but there’s no time to mourn. The demons close in on me, ignoring Killian.
I swerve to the right, and a demon dives for me. I’m fast, I’ll give myself that, but the cabin is small, especially with five hulking beasts inside. They have enough sense not to unfurl their monstrous demon wings and fly in this enclosed space.
Killian blows to his feet, with blind haste, and knocks out the first demon before I can blink. I can’t help feeling proud of my vampire. One of the demons grabs a hold of my wrist, and another wraps his burly arms around me.
I smack him in the face as I flap my wings. The energy moves through him, probably scrambling his senses. My attack must hurt because he screams and drops me. His face is bright red, as if I’ve singed him. Good. First time using my wings on an opponent.
I whirl toward Killian, who’s dropped the other three demons. He just has to deal with the ones who grabbed me.
“Killian!” I try to stop him. He’s forgotten our purpose. Darn animalistic vamp mode.
Demons are no match for vamp speed. Too bad they didn’t open fire. I guess they didn’t want to take the chance of hurting me.