Long Live Dead Reckless

by Safari Spell

  “Stay away from anyone involved in this. Mannix, especially. That means me, too.”

  “No. You need a friend now more than ever.”

  She didn’t question my sanity once after everything I just told her. Even after explaining how dangerous it really was, she wouldn’t leave my side.

  “No, not in their world. We don’t have any power in it.”

  “You do.”

  “I don’t have power. I’m trapped with no way out. But there’s no reason for you to get mixed up in all this.”

  “Yes, there is. My best friend. You’re my reason.”

  She gave a little nod before gazed at the swirling fan above with intensity. She crossed her arms in front of her and rotated the ball of her foot into the carpet. Jesse was quiet and calm for the moment.

  “I need to ask you something, but I don’t want you to get mad,” she said.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Could you really marry Sage’s father? I mean, his father? That’s really weird.”

  My lips dropped open for the words to come out, but they never formed a single word. Not one sound. Barely even a breath passed through. That moment was when I knew. All the while, we’d been skirting around the fact that I was being pursued by an immortal evil. I had no ace in the hole besides Sage himself, and in that moment, sitting with my best friend, I knew I would rather face marriage with a vampire than watch Sage die for me. I felt Azalea’s arms wrap around my shoulders and was glad for it. She held me as the tears marched down my cheeks.

  When the doorbell rang, I made Azalea stay with Jesse while I went to answer it. I furiously wiped away all the tears that had escaped during my revelation. The massive door squeaked open to reveal Dead Reckless standing on the stoop. Sage was in the front resting against the doorframe by his palm. He looked out from the top of his eyes.

  “How did you…come?” I asked, puzzled and tripping over the words.

  Sage still had that effect. Luckily, everyone was used to me. Mika flicked his cigarette away and blew the smoke into the air.

  “You still haven’t hung up,” he answered, pointing to the phone in the floor.

  My phone. The one I used to call Sage and dropped to keep Azalea was calling an ambulance. The one that heard everything we’d said in the last ten minutes. Sage and I shared a haunted gaze.

  “Azalea, hang up my phone on the floor, please,” I called weakly.

  Sage pushed himself off the doorframe and took his hands along the sides of his jeans and into his back pockets. His chin went into the air and looked down at me through a sigh.

  “I’m here to help your friend, but then you and I need to talk in private,” he replied coolly.

  I felt myself flush when he said that, and it reminded me of the time he chased after me in the stairwell. Azalea was suddenly behind me peeking out. Her eyes were wide with curiosity. She looked at them like she was watching a dinosaur come alive in a museum.

  “So do you need invitations to come into a house?” she asked.

  Mika winked.

  “No, doll. Just being polite. Who runs in a stranger’s house? That’d be weird. No manners at all.”

  Azalea invited them in. Sage brushed my cheek as he walked by and hovered over Jesse, reluctant to touch him.

  “Is this what happens when one of you, um, you know?”

  “Uh, no, no, Azalea. Remember, they don’t do this. They’re the…”

  Azalea arched her neck.

  “They’re the – what?”

  Looking at Ash, who was always a little less than warm and welcoming in his manner, I cleared my throat.

  “Good guys.”

  Tom leaned over the couch and watched Jesse wriggle.

  “That’s malicious. Someone wanted to make a point with this guy,” he said, arching his brow.

  Azalea fought her way to Sage’s side.

  “If it’s true what Talor tells me, please help him!”

  Sage nodded. I stood across the couch from him beside Tom. Sage took in a deep breath as he knelt beside Jesse. The mood in the room was tense and strained, everyone looking around at different things to busy their minds until Sage would reveal the cicatrix. I held Azalea’s hand as we watched, leaning against one another for support. Sage brought the cold metal of his bracelets down to Jesse’s wet skin. Ash had been rubbing his chin thoughtfully, but when the stamp flashed bright and sizzled, he leaned forward and raised his brows to see what it said. He asked Sage something in that language I’d heard before. Azalea and I darted glances at each other as Sage responded.

  “What language is that?” she asked, her eyes growing to the size of her fists by her sides. She’d forgotten she was holding my hand and it made me yelp in pain.

  “Ow! I don’t know what it’s called,” I told her, wincing.

  “It’s called Yahweh-Elata,” Tom answered. I didn’t notice how close he’d been standing.

  Sage looked over his shoulder at us.

  “He’s going to be all right.”

  Azalea hugged me and breathed a sigh of relief. Sage turned his attention back to Jesse. He brought both of his hands up and over him like he was feeling for something in the air. Whatever it was, he found it with speed and suddenly stood up. His hands began to illuminate with the softest light. It looked like the sun was outlining him. He reached down touched Jesse’s forehead and light passed into him. Sage exhaled and stepped back, his hands shaking. It was quiet for a few seconds until Jesse cried out in pain as he started to burn red and blister like he had chicken pox. Azalea let go of my hand and rushed over.

  “What’d you do? I thought you were supposed to heal him!”

  “He is healing. It’ll take a little time,” Tom reassured.

  “It didn’t look like this at the Journey,” I replied, blinking nervously.

  Tom and Sage looked at each other.

  “We can handle this if you need to, you know, talk,” Tom said, gripping his shoulder.

  “Yeah, I need to say a few things,” Sage said, offering his hand. I took it and followed him outside into the afternoon sun.

  35

  Sage took me to the gazebo overrun with a spectacular overgrowth of ivy. Only in South Georgia could you have gorgeous ivy in the dead of winter. We inadvertently passed the same place Spencer had kissed me almost three months before. I felt such sorrow remembering the consequences of that night.

  We hurried at a quickened pace to a grove of trees with sprawling arms of bone-gray bark. There was beauty in the bare oaks, the moss splayed in the limbs and the cracks in the trunks from stormy battering. They were testaments to better times and served as scars of survival. My heart bore the same marks.

  Sage had been leading us along the beaten path when he suddenly turned and took me in a desperate kiss. I didn’t expect him to do that, so I stumbled. He caught me fast, wrapping us up in a swell of heavenly heat. He was aggressive, pawing at my hair as he pinned me against a tree. His fingers dug into my body, demanding obedience and surrender. I was grateful for the fleshly curve of my hips to cushion his greedy hands. I folded delicately under his advances, responding in earnest with lips and tongue as he willed.

  I wondered if this is what it was like inside Sage’s head all the time – the clashing of desire and desperation. I respected the strength it must’ve taken him daily to face such powerful demons and quench them under that gentle demeanor. It made sense that I shouldn’t hesitate to obey. He wielded the quietest kind of power. His breath was hot on my cheeks as I became smaller against him so he could possess me whole.

  “We never have the power we want, Talor,” he said.

  “What?” I asked, confused.

  “I wish I could make the sun stand still forever,” he said, sighing.

  I had a hard time bearing the weight of his frame as it leaned against me, allowing nothing between us but deep and abiding primal instincts. I wanted him that close; needed him, in fact. When he ki
ssed me again, he devoured what was left of my self-control. I moaned at the break, something I would never have done in my polite mind, but under the circumstances, I couldn’t control myself.

  I was going to let him have me right there – open air, chaos reigning, right in the middle of the day. I had a brief thought of my mom wagging a disapproving finger somewhere, but it vanished with the next sensual attack. I opened up for him, arching back; an encouraging show that I was willing to go where he would lead.

  My brows hugged together as Sage laid claim to my naked neck, kissing and gripping with possessive lips. No biting. He knew better. I was melting from the inside out, and it was pooling in a fire between my thighs. There was a haphazard restraint in his hands as if he was maneuvering around an invisible fence. We were acting like we would both die if he couldn’t keep his hands on me. I finally gave voice to the truth mounting between us.

  “I want you,” I admitted, my voice fluttering with excitement and terror.

  Months of burgeoning feelings finally formed resolute words in the air often so thick between us. He stiffened as he made a sound, one of division. He eased up but remained close, leaning back a little so I could look up into his eyes. I found them blazing with bright color in a soft focus, settling heavy on me. The look said he meant to do what I asked.

  My eyelids were hard to hold open, but he was sexy in some new way and I wanted to watch. I braced against the great oak behind me, not from fear, but from rabid anticipation. The coarse bark clutched bits of my exposed skin in protest. I didn’t care. I barely felt the snag, consumed only by the feverish way he was holding me.

  Reaching one of his hands out, he traced my neck until it landed at my collarbone. From there, the fingers fanned out to cover as much skin as possible. The tips converged at my cleavage, which was advocating my will. His eyes lowered to where his fingers felt, and mine finally closed in expectancy. His hand brushed across my breast, but it didn’t linger there. His thumb trailed behind, catching the farewell from my skin arched beneath the shirt.

  Suddenly, his touch went away. I felt abandoned, shamelessly whimpering in protest. His hands returned, but not where I wanted them. They went to either side of my face. I felt a dip in excitement as they relaxed, barely touching. I opened my eyes, confused. He was looking at me the same, even if his hands weren’t handling me that way.

  “Can’t,” he pleaded.

  It sounded like he was speaking more to himself than to me. Instead of charging on through the dazed apprehension, he lowered his head in defeat. I swallowed hard and turned my face from his, still feeling his scruff against my forehead.

  “Why?”

  My emotions still weren’t level from the minutes before. I felt childish in my urgency, but of course what I was asking for was the very definition of adult. He shook his head. I had made myself entirely vulnerable to him and he was denying me, rejecting me…again! Didn’t he understand what I wanted? I wouldn’t let it go just yet.

  “But I want you…inside…me,” I whispered, barely able to say the words.

  I was horrified. Oh my God. Why did I say that? That was a private thought. I couldn’t believe I actually told him that to his face. But the sun was setting – on the day and on us. My temperature shot up twenty degrees while I waited for him to respond.

  “Jesus. God, Talor,” he muttered, distressed.

  A peculiar groan caught in his throat and he let it simmer there, deep and raw, rolling it around. Shifting his weight indecisively, he pushed off the tree behind me and fell back a pace. He closed his eyes for a long exhale. His attention snapped back with such intensity that it startled me. His eyes were furious and sharp, fearfully penetrating. His mouth cracked open as he reached out and touched where the puncture wounds should’ve been on my neck.

  When he kissed me again, my claws came out. They clamped down on his neck and shoulders so he wouldn’t escape. He winced as he pulled away.

  “Oh! I’m sorry if I…” I said, trailing off.

  As I watched him back away and bend at the waist, I feared I’d somehow managed to hurt a supernatural creature with my fragile human hands. My nails were long, but I wasn’t that strong.

  “He’s too close,” he grunted, clenching his teeth.

  He straightened, but still held a grimace as he shook his arms out vigorously. He gave an angry groan as the pain surfaced. Blisters and red rashes burned all over his skin, followed by a silver smoothness sweeping across. He turned his face towards the sky and I could see the muscles in his jaw set hard and strain. Muscles bulged as silver shot across them, the evo doing a spectacular job preserving his life.

  Within seconds, the rashes disappeared. It looked like Sage could heal himself from a Grigori wound, but not someone else. But the way he labored after that, I knew he couldn’t keep doing it. He lifted his eyelids and lowered his head, relaxed.

  “I hurt you,” I said.

  “No, Talor, no. I’m fine,” he said, coaxing me towards him.

  I only took one timid step that way. Sage had only ever been hurt when he tried to remove the cicatrix. He bit me then, but he was only kissing me this time. A kiss shouldn’t cause pain. Just like Spencer. Oh God, Spencer.

  “You can’t kiss me anymore?”

  In a step, he covered the ground between us and took me in his arms.

  “I can,” he replied, leaning down and showing me.

  I pulled back quickly, almost not believing him. But he was fine. Oh, except for the heartbreak behind the eyes. There was that. He forced a smile, but his lips trembled as they touched mine. It wasn’t from trepidation. It was a sort of goodbye, and I felt my heart shattering with every sip of him I took in.

  “We need to get away from here,” I cried, suddenly remembering what Jet said.

  Sage ignored that.

  “I want to explain about tonight,” he said, a funny hesitation staggering the words.

  I nodded, wiping my eyes and brushing my hair back.

  “Ok. What’s the plan?”

  “The Grigori have hunted me for centuries. That’s the best leverage we have. If I do what I’m going to do, Rami may release you.”

  I was sure I heard him wrong. No way did he just say he was going to give himself up to be killed. I took in a big breath to argue when I saw Mika and Ash come around the side of the house. Since my shirt was crooked, I made a quick attempt to remedy it. They chivalrously ignored me.

  “You’re giving up?”

  Sage turned and tilted his head the way someone does when they’re caught in a lie.

  “What can I even say here?”

  My fists clinched in adrenaline-fueled passion. Every word was a kaleidoscope of emotional bullets flying in different directions from my mouth. Part pain, part rage, and part whispers from the padded cell of my mind. I felt anger so violent that I was completely unfamiliar with the feeling.

  “You don’t even have a bad plan?”

  Mika pointed his index finger into the air.

  “I did.”

  Ash joined in the conversation.

  “Yeah, but we took those off the table.”

  Mika knit his brow and fumed.

  “It would work. I have an insider and–”

  Sage and Ash both turned to him.

  “No,” they cried in unison.

  He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at both, muttering under his breath as he stepped aside and lit a cigarette. Tom joined us outside too, but I found my focus on the ground at my feet, staring down a fallen leaf. It was faded and trampled, barely recognizable. It was torn apart by the elements, but it held its form. I felt the same way inside knowing our choices were limited to my slavery or Sage’s death. The frustration was gone now. It was replaced with sadness. Regret. My fingers traced along my neck.

  “Weren’t you preparing for this?”

  “Listen, you negated all our plans. It’s because of you that we didn’t get out of here months ag
o. It’s because of you that nothing we come up with will actually work because Sage won’t risk you,” Ash said, throwing a challenging look my way.

  My skin prickled as adrenaline shot through me. I had enough of Ash.

  “You know, all you ever do is blame me for everything,” I argued, pushing off the tree.

  “That’s because this is your fault.”

  “Go screw yourself!”

  “Ok, everybody calm down,” Tom said.

  Azalea walked outside of the circle slowly, studying each guy until she was sure they wouldn’t pounce on her. By the time she got to me, even I was looking at her strangely.

  “Everything ok?” I asked, touching her shoulder.

  “Yeah, Jesse’s still sleeping. I was interested in – whatever was happening out here, you know? Trying to catch up.”

  “Oh, well –” I started, but Tom made a noise for me to be quiet as he reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He frowned and sighed.

  “Hold up – why is Ben calling – did no one talk to him about canceling the show? Mika!”

  Everyone paused and looked at Mika. Mika’s wide eyes went wider as a sheepish grin spread. No one else seemed to think it was funny.

  “There was that, yeah.”

  Tom’s jaw clenched as he raised the phone.

  “It’s your job, Mika. We don’t need red flags everywhere when we’re slipping out of town!”

  “Just tell him our singer killed a dude with my guitar so I don’t have one anymore. I think we’ll be excused.”

  Mika was trying to be funny, but tensions were too high for that. Tom went into something that sounded like a rant in Spanish. The language change bewildered me momentarily. The way everyone was skilled at hiding accents and adapting, it was easy to forget they weren’t – any of them, in fact – American. Or even close to the ages they looked. Tom’s Hispanic heritage came to a halt after an aggravated swear word or two – in Spanish, of course. Mika was mad now.

  “It isn’t easy keeping all of you under the damn radar. It should’ve been Ash’s job. He has plenty of time. All he does is find new ways to be pissed off at her anyway,” Mika argued, thumbing at me. He added something short and sharp under his breath. Now his roots were showing.