Once away from Marcus, the desperation she had for his touch was gone. As she’d imagined, the spell was well and truly broken. Everything else was perfect, though. There was no soreness between her thighs and no tiredness dragging her down. Her energy levels were always at maximum capacity, and she knew it was thanks to the witch’s heart she had been given in place of her Jinn one. Thanks to the Priestess too. Her magical knowledge had given Wynter a way out of the limitations to a usual Jinni lifespan, and she’d outdone herself with this particular spell. Wynter knew she could never escape Marcus now. She was bound to him by heart and soul, and it was clear she had no choice but to remain by his side, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
In fact, now they were apart, all of her true emotions came flooding back. And the realisation of what all of this meant.
Wynter sat down in the warm sand and sobbed, crying into her hands while she hugged her knees to her chest. All of her fears and pain were back with a vengeance, and she knew she was definitely in mourning. Jakob had been dead little more than a week, and while remembering him hurt like hell, she refused to simply let go. What’d become of him was a true injustice and she owed it to him to remember. Not to let the memory die, even if her soul was no longer merged with his.
He’d want her to stay strong. To be herself and remember what he’d taught her—to look out for number one. And Wynter knew she had to, so she started by trying to figure out what the hell had been done to her and what it all meant.
She closed her eyes and focused on her body, becoming aware of how every fibre of her being felt. There was no doubt about it, she was in optimum health and could feel her heart beating steadily, and it wasn’t as if she had two of them, but more like it was in two parts. And so she tried calling to the magical half. She and Brodie had been as one while taking up solace in one another’s bodies, and she wondered if the witch was the same. Maybe they could converse and come to some kind of arrangement if she appealed to her better nature, and tried her best, but there was nothing. Just the power she knew had been readily given, but that could most likely also be taken away just as freely.
She cried harder, but then stopped abruptly when she felt someone behind her. Wynter knew it couldn’t be Marcus, otherwise she would’ve felt her witch’s heart race, so she figured it had to be Marcella or perhaps Jack. Probably sent to get her by their master.
When she turned to tell them off, it was a shock to find someone else entirely standing over. Someone dressed in his usual black suit, even given the hot climate, but it wouldn’t even matter if he was wearing a fur coat. The heat wouldn’t make any sort of difference to the cold skin or grey pallor the man had.
It was the alpha soldier, and while he was staring down at her with that same cold, blank expression as usual, he seemed odd. Odder than usual, if it were possible.
He opened his mouth and closed it, and then did it again. It was like he was trying to say something, but only seemed able to hiss out one word.
“Wynter…” he croaked, and then flinched and seemed to be fighting with himself, and he proved her suspicion right when he then actively smacked himself in the temple with rage.
She didn’t know what to think. It was like he was trying to tell her something, but was inept thanks to his far from human-like state, but she had no idea what to even expect from such an exchange. And she didn’t have the patience to try and find out.
“Oh just leave me alone will you?” she barked, and then stood and glared up into his red eyes. “You like me huh, is that what you’re trying to say? Then you should protect me. Do my bidding, and not his,” she tried, and again he clicked his mouth and seemed to try to form other words, but couldn’t do it, and this time she saw him get properly angry with himself for not being able to answer her back. Whatever it was he was trying to tell her, she knew he wouldn’t be getting it out any time today.
Wynter didn’t stick around to watch him keep trying. She’d said her bit and was willing to see what the alpha made of her requests later, but for the time being she knew there was no other choice. She would have to accept her fate and keep playing nice with Marcus.
She headed back into the house with the vampire hot on her heels, and was intercepted by her captor. Her husband. Damn, she still couldn’t get her head around that. With the flick of Marcella’s wrist the deed had been done and they were joined in goddamn matrimony. No vows, and no rings. Just their souls that had been bound by her spell, whether she’d accepted or not.
Marcus was dressed in his usual finery. He was in a fully tailored suit and vest, and had even added his pocket watch to his ensemble for the day. As always, he had refused to let himself look unkempt, and Wynter looked down at her cotton dress and sandals, thinking how odd the pair of them looked together. They weren’t a match, so why had he pursued her so? She went to ask when he cut her off with a sly smile.
“I don’t think I like him following you around like some kind of lovesick puppy. Shall I kill him for you?” he asked, eyeing the alpha with his most vile stare, and Wynter watched the behemoth cower before him. He then started scratching at his temples, as though trying to rid himself of a voice in his head, and she knew whose it must be. She wasn’t the only one Marcus had taken control of by force. Half of his empire now relied on the hordes at his command, and so, like Camilla seemingly had, he had to be ruling them using some kind of mind control. She’d hardly ever seen him give spoken orders to the alpha or his pack, and yet they always knew exactly what he wanted.
“No more killing, Marcus. There’s already been more than enough,” she answered, and kept her distance so she could also keep somewhat of a clearer head when talking back to him. The further away she was the more of herself she remained, and for now, she wanted to keep things that way.
She then headed for the stairs, thinking it might be nice to get washed up and into some clothes that weren’t rough with sand, and it was a blessing when he chose not to follow her. It was hard enough keeping her head straight when he was across the room, but far better when she had multiple floors and walls between them.
As she ascended to the top floor, she caught sight of herself in one of the mirrors there and frowned at her reflection. There was so much wrong with the woman looking back at her, and Wynter knew she had to get her act together. There was a lot she had to learn and do, and an entire world out there to see, but she was positive Marcus would never let her do any of those things unless she gave herself to him completely first. And not just in the bedroom during the blissful times when his touch made her transform into someone else entirely. The inner witch, perhaps? She had no fucking clue. But she certainly needed to get on top of her Jinn powers.
Starting with the sorry state she looked.
Wynter was well aware of how she could change her appearance at will without the need to actually wear real clothes in order to do it. Or more accurately, she could simply conjure them up using her powers, but there stood her first hurdle. She had no idea how to do so. She’d seen Brodie do it on many an occasion, but of course he’d had time with his mentor. He’d had a host who had guided him along his path, whereas the two of them hadn’t been given the chance for her to learn how to be a jinni, and now that she was going it alone, it was showing.
She simply sighed and carried on her way to the bedroom, and as she passed an open door she was suddenly drawn towards it on instinct. Inside were Marcella and Jack. They were laid together on top of the huge bed and Jack was cradling her in his arms while she wept. It was clear that she was grieving. That beneath the exterior of the hardened loyalist to Marcus’s cause, she was still a person. Marcella had lost her child and, like any woman, she was clearly bereft. Damn, that brought an entirely new ache to her chest.
It was comforting to see Jack with her though. They really did appear to be in love, like Marcus had told her, and it seemed strange seeing the human man being the one to comfort the powerful witch. Marcella had always been so formidable. So strong. It pained Wyn
ter to see her so wistful. So beaten down by the life she was forced to live. She wanted to blame Marcus for her friend’s loss, but actually, she could only blame herself.
Marcella noticed her then and Wynter offered her a smile, but rather than speak to her or invite her inside, the witch simply turned her stoic face away. It was Jack who got up and came to the doorway, and he shook his head forlornly.
“Not yet,” he whispered simply, before shutting the door in her face.
Wynter was left standing there staring at the dark wood in shock, and part of her wanted to scream and kick the door down.
She hadn’t asked for any of this either. Surely this was the time when they ought to be looking after one another, not creating more distance? Marcella had foreseen her daughter’s future. She planned for things to end this way, and now she couldn’t even bear to look at the result of those choices. Her chest felt heavy with sorrow and she knew it wasn’t just her own hurt that she was feeling. The heart within was mourning too.
Rather than linger where she wasn’t wanted any longer, Wynter turned and ran for her bedroom, where she found Marcus waiting for her.
“You seem lost, my sweet,” he said, having clearly decided against leaving her be after all.
“Please don’t,” she begged as she pressed herself against the wall opposite him, but instead he came closer. The vampire closed the gap in a second and as soon as she was in his arms, everything suddenly felt right again. All the pain and the hurt was gone, and in its place was a wondrous glow. A flame burning only for him. “What have you done to me?” she whimpered, but then started peeling away his clothes as desire flooded through her. She kissed every inch of him she could get to and jumped up into his arms before she let him carry her to the bed.
“I opened your eyes so you could see the truth and let me love you. I always loved you, Wynter. From the moment I walked into that office and got a proper look into your eyes I was yours. And you were mine,” he groaned, and then he stripped her bare and then made love to her.
She wanted to tell him no. To remind him she hated him. To push him away and tell him no more, but instead, she arched her back to deepen his thrusts and then let him have every inch of her for himself.
Wynter knew she’d regret it afterwards, there was no denying it, but would gladly take him loving her over the oppressive and often violent way he’d used to show her his affection. At least now there was no bite and no games. He had her ensnared, but Wynter didn’t care any more. Against all odds, she was actually beginning to feel like less of a captive and more like his soul mate. No longer the slave, but the willing submissive. It was far easier to give in than keep fighting it, and she desperately wanted to stop the hostility. To rest her weary heart and mind, even if only for a short while.
“Do you truly love me?” she asked when they’d finally had their fill of one another and were laid watching the new morning arrive outside the huge window that overlooked the stunning ocean.
“I do,” Marcus answered, “and I know now that I should’ve turned you that first week when you tried to leave me. Marcella told me to, but I saw love as weakness and refused to let myself own up to how I felt. But I was a fool. It was only when you were gone that I understood how much you’d affected me, and I knew I had to get you back. No matter the cost.”
A tear ran down her temple at his words, and while part of her basked in them, Wynter knew there would always be that other side to her that despised Marcus for what he’d put her through. And the life he’d taken in order to claim her.
She could never forgive him for that. Never forget.
The only option she felt she had was to learn to live with her pain and hatred towards him. To bury it down deep and hope that someday she might stop seething. Stop plotting his demise. And maybe even start to love him back.
Two
Archie woke up with a start and then laughed as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
“I fell asleep again, didn’t I?” he asked the jinni whose shoulder he’d found himself snoozing on.
“Yeah, but you’re human don’t forget. Plus, you’ve been through a lot. You actually do need sleep,” Brodie reminded him, and Archie nodded. He’d been surviving on very little since their return to the small island off the coast of north Wales and knew it was because he had been trying to spend as much time with Brodie as he could. They were actually connecting, and while Rafferty put the house back together in the aftermath of Marcus’s attack, they had rebuilt each other, along with their friendship.
Plus, there was whatever had suddenly blossomed to life between them to focus on too, and Archie knew that was the real reason he was putting in so much effort to spend as much time as possible with Brodie. He’d told Archie he cared for him. The closed off jinni had finally opened up and shared his feelings, and so he’d not wasted a moment with him in the hope he might do so again. But of course, he’d gone back to his usual stoicism now that they were back home and out of trouble. He was avoiding the deep and meaningful stuff, but Archie couldn’t let what Brodie had said go.
He was his. He belonged to the jinni, in whatever way that meant, and Brodie had saved his life. He had shown him gentleness and even kissed him. There were things that needed saying and doing about that. However, he would force it aside and focus on the important stuff.
For now.
After all, there was still the question of what they were going to do about Wynter, who had been dragged off to only God knew where with Marcus. Brodie had told him all about how that shit show had gone down after he’d swam for the other island, and while he didn’t relish the idea of having another fight, Archie felt bad for poor Wynter. He wanted to know that she was at least okay. Marcus had taken her away with him and none of them knew how he planned to keep her. Was he intending on wooing her into submission, or perhaps forcing her was more his style?
Part of him didn’t actually want to know, but they couldn’t simply leave her. They were a team, weren’t they? They had to stand by one another and fight for what was right.
Plus, there was another part of him that felt sadder still. And angry. Jakob was dead. He’d never thought it could happen, not with the power their kind embodied, but somehow his vampire friend had been delivered to the Lady of Death thanks to Marcus and his jealousy. Archie felt the loss tremendously and knew he would always miss him. They hadn’t known one another that long, but they hadn’t needed to. He had taken a serious liking to him. He’d looked forward to the days when Jak planned to redeem himself and earn his freedom, and when he and Wynter would be together again in the flesh. He’d been excited for them, but now it was gone. Those hopes shattered. The future uncertain and without Jakob in it.
In many ways, he knew he was still coming to terms with the realisation that Jak had actually gone. He kept expecting to take a walk down to his cell and find him there, waiting to share anecdotes with him over coffee. But no. The vampire had been torn limb from limb. Murdered.
Would Wynter avenge his honour, like Brodie had done with the werewolf who’d trapped Archie and held him captive? He wondered, but doubted she would be in any kind of position to fight Marcus, at least not yet, but maybe someday. Archie sure hoped so.
And of course they also had their new housemate to consider. The woman they’d saved from the lighthouse, Rosalie, had taken up residence in one of the spare bedrooms towards the back of the cavernous home and was refusing to come out. Rafferty was reporting back to them regularly though and it had been good to have a secret spy in the house only the pair of them knew about.
The poor girl had reportedly washed and dressed in the dead of night, but then she’d climbed back under the covers and had barely been seen since. He said he’d caught her creeping around the house on the search for food, but after raiding the cupboards had disappeared again, and now hadn’t been seen again for over two days.
But they all heard her crying. The walls weren’t thin, but there was no denying the unmistakable sound of someone
sobbing their heart out day and night. Archie found himself regularly wanting to go to her, but he forced himself to back off and leave her be. To give her time. Maybe when she was through this phase of her trauma they could get her to open up. Brodie could always offer to take her back home so she could be with her family. He didn’t know where Rosalie’s life was heading, but at least she wasn’t alone. He and Brodie were there, ready and waiting for when she finally wanted their company. All she had to do was ask.
The same went for Wynter too.
And until that time came, he knew he would have to carry on regardless.
“I’m going for a shower and then to bed,” Archie announced as he got to his feet and walked the short distance to the doorway, and then he turned back, suddenly feeling brave. “You’re welcome to join me,” he offered.
“I don’t sleep,” Brodie answered, looking sheepish, and Archie smiled.
“I didn’t say I wanted to sleep.”
He then headed straight for his room without another word or a backwards glance, and smiled to himself as he stripped off and climbed into the shower of his en-suite. He had indeed been feeling brave, and got lathered up and washed in record speed. This time, he didn’t even bother with his usually long shower that consisted of taking care of his sexual needs while beneath the warm jets. He wanted to see what Brodie was going to do first. To find out if he was going to act on his blatant attempt to get closer to him or not.
As he shut off the water Archie found himself listening desperately for any sign there was someone waiting for him out in his room. But he heard nothing, and so brushed his teeth and pulled on a pair of pyjama bottoms, thinking perhaps it was time for some sleep after all.
He was just climbing beneath his covers when the door opened and in walked the tall jinni. He too was dressed only from the waist down and looked as if he had just freshened up as well, but rather than go and keep himself busy somewhere else, Brodie had evidently decided to come and see Archie like he’d asked. This had to be a good sign, or so he hoped.
Even in Death Page 2