by Meg Anne
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” she said, wiping her swollen eyes. “And we didn’t even get to say goodbye.” Her voice broke at the end, and she turned to lean against him.
“I’m so sorry, Liz. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.” He rested his chin on the top of her head and held her close while she cried.
His scent was strong and masculine as it surrounded her. She breathed it in, the combination of his scent and presence going far in easing some of her pain. He had quickly turned into her rock, the steady hand holding her up during the troubling times in her life.
“Thank you.” She pulled away and looked up into his hazel eyes. The moonlight cast a soft glow on his face, showcasing the troubled lines near his mouth and eyes. “Are you okay?”
James shrugged. “Honestly, tonight scared the shit out of me. I thought he had found us, and all I could think about was losing you.”
Lizzie reached up and cupped his cheek. “You won’t lose me.”
He stepped back, and she dropped her hand. “You can’t promise that, Liz. We have no idea how to stop this guy, and if Giles is right, he now knows we’re here, which means we’ve lost any type of jump start we had.” He ran a hand through his dark hair.
“We’re alive now, right?”
James narrowed his eyes at her. “Obviously.”
“Then let’s live, you and me. Let’s just focus on the now and worry about the future tomorrow.”
“I can’t just ignore the fact that we’re being hunted and I’m damn near powerless to stop it.”
“Why?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?” He was angry, and while she knew it wasn’t directed at her, it was still only the third time she’d seen him mad. The first had been when he’d seen her at the hospital after her ex got his hands on her. Then, of course, when she’d been worried he was going to punch her brother in the jaw for not being upfront about the danger she was in the night the Druid attacked at her diner.
Lizzie stepped toward him and reached up to cup his face again. He didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned into the contact, and she brushed his cheek with her thumb. “All is not lost yet. He isn’t here right now, is he? And with Giles helping us decode the spell book, we should have something in no time. This is not the end, James.”
She lifted to her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his in a gentle kiss. “Let’s not waste the time we have.” Her words were a gentle whisper against his mouth, and his arms banded around her, pulling her tightly against him.
He stared into her eyes, the emotion they betrayed warming her heart. He cared for her, deeply. Which was great seeing as how she was in love with him. Probably had been since day one.
Lizzie was a hopeless romantic; it had gotten her into a lot of trouble over the years and caused her a ridiculous amount of heartache. But, standing here with James, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
The truth of that shone in his hazel eyes, and its echo reverberated throughout her body. Everything she felt for him, he felt too.
He closed the distance between them and took her mouth with his. Lips crashed together, and tongues danced frantically with one another as she held onto him.
No one knew how long they had, so why shouldn’t they live to the fullest?
“James.” She pulled away and met his gaze. “I want you to take me to bed.” The boldness of her request surprised even her, but she didn’t back down. She wanted him, and she was going to have him.
“Liz, we can wait.”
“No, we can’t. You said so yourself, we’re on borrowed time. I want you, now.”
“It’s been a rough night, Liz. I don’t want you to regret anything that happens between us.”
She gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him down to her for a loud kiss. “I’ve wanted you for a long time, James. I assure you, I’m planning on feeling a lot of things tonight, and regret certainly isn’t one of them.”
He stared at her for a moment longer, then gripped the back of her neck and pulled her hard against him. “Damn it, Liz, I’ve wanted this for a long fucking time, too.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her toward his bedroom.
The door shut loudly behind them, and she felt the hardness of it at her back as he pressed against her, never breaking contact with her mouth. She tasted the scotch on his lips from the glass he’d enjoyed earlier.
He lightly bit down on her lower lip, and she groaned, the action sending shivers of anticipation all the way through her body.
He released her legs, and she slid down his body, inch by delicious inch. Lizzie looked up to see James watching her intently, and she wondered briefly if he thought she were going to run away. There is no way in hell I’m walking away now.
“I hope you know that I’m all in, Liz. Whether we win or lose.” He cupped her face with both hands and pressed his lips to hers. “All in,” he whispered one last time before devouring her.
Chapter 18
Skye
She wasn’t sure which of her sisters Saw her death, or when it had first been foretold. Perhaps when she’d suffered her first glimpse into the future? Or maybe when she’d told Calum about her gift? Was anyone waiting to collect her body once the deed was done?
Certainly, someone knew the hour and manner of her death. That was, perhaps, the only thing she knew without question. Whether they cared enough to perform the rites that would send her soul back to the heavens was another matter entirely.
As it was, she had been cast out in disgrace. Her sisters had been explicit: no one was to know about what they could do.
Ever.
She had broken their most sacred law. Foolish. She had been so foolish to believe that things would be different for her.
She spat on the floor in disgust as the Druid Calum’s face blazed into being within her mind. The traitor. She sat alone in the dark, her threadbare shawl hanging limply from her shoulders and doing little to stave off the chill. It didn’t matter, she didn’t notice it.
Nothing mattered anymore.
All that was left to do was wait. He was coming for her. All because she had not warned him of his father’s impending death. He’d found out, of course. As soon as his father had been discovered murdered in his bed, he’d come to her and asked why she hadn’t warned him.
Her response hadn't been good enough for him, though. He honestly believed that he could have prevented his father's murder had she forewarned him.
People always believed that, believed they could cheat death if only they’d known. As if anyone held enough power to stop what fate had already set in motion.
Calum didn’t know what she knew, what had been drilled into her head since birth. No matter what, once a death was foretold it would come to pass. There was absolutely no way to stop it.
“Come out, Seer!”
She closed her eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks. So cold. The voice that only last night had whispered words of love to her now spoke to her as if she was a stranger.
Straightening her back, she pushed herself out of the rickety chair and marched out front, ready to face her lover. She stepped outside, bracing herself for the anger that would surely be etched on Calum’s face.
When her eyes met his, she stopped short. Nothing could have prepared her for the level of hatred shining in his blue eyes. His face was twisted with pure, unfiltered rage. Any shred of hope she’d clung to that perhaps he wouldn't kill her this night, vanished. She might as well already be dead.
She stood like a stone as he took his first step toward her, flanked by four other men.
“Anything to say for yourself, Gypsy?” he growled.
She shook her head, more tears spilling from her eyes.
The sight of her pain only seemed to enrage him further. “You will not die this night. Death is too kind for your twisted, spiteful soul.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “C-Calum,” she stuttered, hope flaring brightly in her chest only to be snuffed out completel
y by his next words.
“I curse you.” The words were savage and low, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “You and your line will know only the hopelessness of Seeing those they love die and being unable to stop it.”
She opened her mouth to protest—
“May grief and loss be your only companions,” he roared, chilling her to the core, “until the day one of yours selflessly saves one of mine!”
The air around them began to swirl with the binding magic of his curse, and she fell to her knees in tears. “No! Please, no. Calum, what have you done?” she sobbed.
“Only what you’ve done to me, Gypsy bitch.”
She flinched, heartbroken.
Calum’s jaw clenched as if there was more he wished to say to her, but instead, he spun on his heel and stalked off, the four men trailing behind him.
She knelt in the dirt long after they’d left, still shaken by the Druid’s words. Icy anger slowly began to replace the hurt. Her eyes narrowed as she stared into the darkness.
“I am not the only one cursed this night, Calum O’Leary. You have taken the gift of my love and thrown it away. May your line never again know the warmth of true love’s embrace until one of yours learns to love one of mine.”
Skye bolted upright, her cheeks wet with tears. What the fuck was that? She placed a hand over her wildly beating heart, pulling in deep, steadying breaths. Grief gripped her chest with relentless force.
It felt so real. Like one of her visions… but that was impossible. Visions didn’t come in her dreams. Not to mention the other major detail: no one died.
Skye rubbed at her chest. She should have been thankful she’d been granted a reprieve from the recurring nightmare of Lucas’ death, but instead, the dream about the two lovers left her… restless.
Heart pounding, she focused on Lucas’ steady breathing beside her.
Who the hell was that woman? All her pain and heartbreak still weighed on her, heavy like it could suffocate Skye, like it was Skye’s burden to carry.
Skye closed her eyes, the images of the dream still crystal clear in her mind. A Gypsy in love with a Druid who cursed her. Was it supposed to be some kind of warning? Some deep-seated fear in the back of her mind reminding her just how out of her league she was with Lucas?
That he could turn on her at any time?
She looked down at him. Lucas would never feel that level of hatred toward her, would he? As if he felt her staring at him, he stirred and half-opened one eye to look at her.
“You alright?” he murmured beside her, still more asleep than awake. It was barely two o’clock in the morning; they hadn’t been sleeping for long.
“Go back to sleep,” she whispered, running her fingers through his thick hair.
“Mmm,” he mumbled, snuggling deeper into his pillow.
Skye watched his breathing even out, his mouth falling open on a soft snore. The sight of him lying there beside her chased the remnants of the dream away.
It didn’t matter. It wasn’t real.
This was.
Drying her cheeks, Skye scooted back down onto her pillow and curled into Lucas. She ran her fingers along his cheek, and he let out a sleepy murmur. He lifted an arm to pull her closer, and she rolled over so she was tucked into his body. He had become her safe place, a beacon of hope keeping her grounded when all she wanted to do was hide.
With him, she’d found more than she ever could have imagined, and no crazed nightmare was going to take that away from her. She’d lay here with him, happy to play sentinel until sleep reclaimed her. This was reality, and for once, it was infinitely better than anything that she’d find in a dream.
Chapter 19
Lucas
Soft morning light filtered in through the light blue curtains. Lucas blinked a few times, trying to orientate his sleep-fogged brain. Twisting his head, he drank in the sight of Skye, still deeply asleep, beside him. Contentment unlike anything he’d ever known rushed through him as he recalled the night before.
Her full lips were slightly parted, and her thick lashes left shadows on her cheeks. She looked to be at peace for the first time since he’d met her. Her fingers were tangled in the sheet, but it looked like she had been trying to reach out and touch him in her sleep. The sweetness of the gesture, even if it was imagined, tugged at his heart.
Lucas shifted to face her and ran a finger from the curve of her cheek, down her jaw and neck, up over her shoulder and down her spine. Skye shivered, but her lips lifted in the ghost of a smile.
“Ogling me already, Detective?”
“Mmhmmm,” he murmured.
“Didn’t get your fill of me last night?” she asked, her voice husky with sleep.
“Not last night, not ever.”
Her smile grew, but her eyes remained closed. Idly, Lucas wondered if she thought she was dreaming when her next words brought him crashing back down. “That’s what they all say.”
Jealousy flared hot and swift. “They who?”
Her smirk told him he played right into her hand, but he didn’t care. This kind of intimacy, the part that had nothing to do with physicality and everything to do with actual connection, was priceless. If it meant he got to keep waking up next to her, he’d gladly take her ribbing every damn day.
Lucas leaned over and nipped at her ear. “Brat.”
She giggled and cuddled into him. Lucas breathed her in, tucking her body tight against his. She smelled like honey and cream. And sex. Lucas growled low in his throat, his cock already hard and ready for another go.
He glanced at the window. It was already late into the morning, and they had a lot to do today. They didn’t have time for all the things he wanted to do with her, but that didn’t stop him from pressing his hips into hers. Or from tugging the sheet down to reveal more of that golden skin.
He ran his fingers along her bare skin, loving the breathless little whimpers his touch caused. Soon he replaced his fingers with his mouth, kissing and nibbling his way along her body. Fuck. He could hole up in here with her forever. Fuck the Druid. Fuck that stupid spell book. Fuck everything and everyone. This was what he wanted. Skye. In his arms, in his bed, until they both collapsed from dehydration.
His lips quirked. Maybe it was too much too fast, but he didn’t give a shit. No one had ever made him feel this particular brand of tenderness tinged with lust. He’d lost count of how many times she’d cried his name last night, and it still wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
There was a lot of shit Lucas would gladly admit he didn’t know. But there was one thing he knew with absolute certainty: Skye Giovanni was his.
Ice ran through his veins at the reminder of what was awaiting them outside the safety of these four walls. The only way to keep her safe was to deal with that shitbird once and for all. That meant getting up and dealing with everything he wanted to avoid.
Another growl slipped through Lucas’ lips, and he nipped Skye a little harder than he’d intended. Instead of batting him away, Skye moaned and rolled over. Her amber eyes were molten as they watched him work his way down her body. Her dusky nipples were tight little points, and he was tempted to take one of the taut buds into his mouth, but the way her hips shifted on the bed urged him downward.
There were a lot of things he wanted to give this woman. His promise that she’d be safe. The Druid’s head on a fucking platter. His heart, the shriveled mess that it was. A future. All of them things he couldn’t guarantee or she might not want. But this, this he could give her.
Lucas dipped his hands into the valley between her thighs, and he hummed his approval at how ready she was for him.
“Lucas,” she panted.
Lucas closed his eyes, savoring the sound of his name on her lips. The breathless demand, the sheer need, it nearly undid him. Lucas wasn’t sure he believed in God, not after everything he’d witnessed, but he did believe that there was something that brought this amazing woman crashing into his life. It was to that something he said
, Please. Please let me keep her safe. Whatever it takes. My life for hers. Just keep her safe.
He didn’t know where the thoughts came from, but he didn’t question the impulse to send the thought, the prayer, out into the universe.
Something snapped inside him, and the need to be inside her, to claim her, overrode everything else. Lucas shifted and in one swift thrust drove home. Skye’s back arched, and she cried out his name.
She pulled him down, kissing him with a passion that bordered on violence. She was feeding off of his need, and held nothing back as she met him thrust for thrust. Their bodies moved together like they had been made for this, like they had been coming together for decades, not a handful of hours.
It wasn’t long until Skye’s moans grew desperate. Lucas’ climax coiled inside him. He was close, but so was she. Angling his hips, he drove into her, wanting to hear her cry his name before he’d follow her.
“Lu—”
“That’s it, beautiful.”
As if all she’d been waiting for was his permission, Skye exploded, her body clamping down on him hard. Lucas groaned and crushed his lips to hers, joining her with a few slow, final thrusts.
Heart still racing, Lucas pulled back slightly to stare down at her. She was flushed and smiling, her eyes glowing with happiness.
He grinned. “Good morning.”
“Morning, Detective.”
“How’d you sleep?”
Skye blinked, her nose crinkling adorably. “Aren’t I still dreaming?”
Lucas chuckled. “Should I take that as a compliment?”
“Mmm,” she murmured, giving him another sleepy smile. She shifted and started to stretch beneath him. The move had her breasts lifting, and Lucas caught one of her nipples between his lips.
Skye’s eyes fluttered closed. “Definitely dreaming.”
Lucas took the bait. Fuck it, they were already late. “Then let me help wake you up.”