by Isa Fae
Following her trail, it didn’t take Eric long to locate the lifeless body lying face down in the snow. “Miranda!” he shouted, holding one arm in front of his face to protect himself from the frozen moisture. He maneuvered through the deep snow as fast as he could.
Finally, he reached her. Dropping to his knees, he turned her over. Her complexion was paler than usual, her lips blue and her eyes closed. Placing a finger against the cold flesh on the side of her neck, Eric checked for a sign of life. He sighed in relief as he felt the weak pulse. Miranda was alive, but she still wasn’t safe. Frostbite would be setting in soon. If it hadn’t already.
Eric quickly stripped out of his coat and placed it around her, hoping her body temperature would rise a little bit. He just had to keep her stable a little longer.
A gust of wind slammed into him. The frozen precipitation feeling like needles hitting his skin. Now he had wished he had grabbed a shirt. Wiping his hand over his face, Eric realized he had to get her out of here before both of them froze to death. He had expended so much of his magic saving her earlier. Half his life span to be exact. He couldn’t risk using anymore.
Scooping her body up off the ground, he stood and trekked back through the snow. “Stupid, Miranda. How could you be so senseless?” He pushed her body closer to his chest, shivering, as he picked up his pace. Even though she was wrapped in his coat, he could still feel the chill coming off her. And that didn’t help since his upper body was now fully exposed to the frigid temperature. Death may be on her agenda, but it wasn’t on his. Besides, her dying wasn’t an option. He had to get her to the Lord alive, or at least, he kept telling himself he was only keeping her alive to deliver her to the Lord. But somewhere deep inside, something told him that wasn’t true anymore.
Reaching the door to the cabin, he fought to open it against the wind. Holding Miranda in his arms wasn’t helping the situation. After a few seconds, he managed to get it open wide enough for him to fit through. Kicking it shut was easier than opening it. Miranda’s eyes remained closed, her lips blue. Eric hoped he wasn’t too late. If he was lucky, she was only in the beginning stage of frostbite. While her body was freezing, there was no discoloration of her pale skin and no blisters.
He carried her through the cabin until he reached the bathroom, where he gently placed her in the tub and turned on the water. She wasn’t going to like this, but it was the only way he could get her body to warm up.
Knowing that the wet clothes would hinder her recovery, Eric ripped her shirt off of her, exposing her perfectly round breasts. Lifting her hips, he rolled the clingy, knit pants down until they reached her ankles. Then he pulled them off too. Her body amazed him just as much as the first time he’d seen her. Eric would never get tired of looking at this beautiful witch.
It didn’t take long for the color to rush back into her cheeks. He watched her intently as he dipped his hands into the water. His skin burned as he submerged them, causing him to wince. Eric hadn’t been exposed as long as Miranda. He couldn’t imagine how the water impacted her skin. But it seemed to be working. He didn’t want to see her in pain, but pain was a lot better than death.
While the water was running, Eric quickly got up and jogged into the first bedroom. He headed over to the closet and opened the door, snagging a pair of pants and a fresh shirt for Miranda. He also discovered an unopen pack of underwear. Ripping open the pack, he pulled out a pair of black ones. She would need these when she woke up. Returning to the bathroom, he set them on the sink and took his place next to the tub again.
The water continued to rise, covering Miranda’s legs and chest. He reached over and turned off the water before it went any higher.
More color rushed into Miranda’s face. Her lips were no longer blue, now they were rosy pink. The color he had come to adore. Eric couldn’t be more relieved.
13
Miranda
Her eyes flashed open. And she gasped for breath. Where was the snow? The wind and the cold? The last thing Miranda remembered was escaping in the blizzard. How in the hell did I get in a bathtub? With water? “This doesn’t make sense.”
“Miranda.” His soft voice was cautious, as though he didn’t want to frighten her.
She snapped her head in his direction. Eric. “What the fuck!” Miranda brought one of her hands up to cover her breasts while her other hand dipped down in between her thighs. Not that it helped any. She was still completely exposed to him.
Deep down she had been relieved she hadn’t killed him, but on the surface her anger boiled over. How dare he put her here? Naked. “What the hell are you doing, Eric? Why am I in the tub? She narrowed her eyes at him, attacking him the only way she could right now.
He stood up and peered down at her, a smirk on is face as though he thought this was funny. “You’re lucky I found you, love. You nearly froze to death out there.” His smirk faded and he pressed his lips together. “And so did I. This was the only way to get your body temperature back up.”
“Love?” Miranda drew her eyebrows in and shook her head. “Did you just call me love?” That was the only thing she picked up on even though he had said more.
He fell silent, as if he were thinking. “No.” He growled the word, glaring at her as he balled his hands into fists, causing the muscles in his arms to flex.
Miranda’s gaze fell to his chest. She couldn’t help it. It was just there. And it looked awfully good to her, even though she’d never admit it to him. But, love. He had called her love and she knew it. Could he possibly have the same feelings she had for him deep down inside?
“I said we almost froze out there because of your stupidity.” His voice hardened. There he was. The Eric she had remembered. “You’re in the bathtub because it was the only way to warm you up.”
“Stupidity?” She snapped back at him, feeling the heat rush into her cheeks again. “Let me remind you about the way you were hurting me.” She lifted her arm, and as she thought, a bluish bruise had formed on her skin. The same spot where he’d gripped. “What did you expect me to do? Stay here and continue to endure your abuse?”
Eric took a couple of steps back. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He sounded sincere enough, but was he only telling her what she wanted to hear?
“But you did.” She challenged him. “And I needed to get away from you. No, running out in the blizzard may not have been the smartest choice, but it was the only choice I had at that moment. And to top it all off, you forced me to use my magic on you. Don’t you realize how much that hurts me?” Miranda had never revealed her feelings to anyone, so she had no idea why she was doing it now.
“Hurts you?” Eric laughed. “You’re not the one who got pushed to the floor.”
Her shoulders dropped as she sighed, knowing she wasn’t getting anywhere with this conversation. “You deserved it.” He would continue to argue. The Eric Winters she’d come to know had to have the last word. But she did too.
His hands went to his hips. “You’re right.” He shrugged his shoulders.
She glanced up at him from underneath her eyebrows, not sure if she heard him correctly. This man couldn’t have possibly said she was right. “What did you say?”
He pressed his lips together as if he was holding back a smile. “I said, you’re right.” He paused for a moment, letting it sink in. “And I apologize.”
Stunned, she hadn’t even realized her hands had slipped from the spots they were concealing until Eric’s gaze dropped to her and he took in a long, deep breath. Her attention fell on the bulge growing inside the front of his jeans. She clearly remembered what was behind that fabric. Tingles shot up between her thighs, and she tightened her legs together, hoping to push the feeling away. If he stayed there much longer, she didn’t think she would be able to control herself. If he asked, she would have given herself to him. He would be the first to claim her soul, and she didn’t care.
Eric closed his eyes briefly and swallowed hard. “Your clothes are over there on the floo
r. When you’re done, get dressed. I’ll be outside the door.”
“Outside the door?” Miranda’s voice shook as the area in between her legs moistened. And it had nothing to do with the bath water. “Why would you wait out there?”
“After what you did, I can’t trust you enough to leave you alone. In fact,” he turned around and stepped outside into the hallway, “I can’t even shut the door. Now get dressed.” He disappeared.
Great. Now I have a babysitter. Well, at least he’s hot. Miranda pulled herself out of the tub. The muscles in her arms and legs still ached. She wondered if it was from nearly freezing to death or from the Fae blood forced upon her? As much as she wanted to hate Eric, she couldn’t. He’d saved her life twice. Deep in her mind she knew it was because the Lord wanted her alive, but for right now, she would pretend it was because he actually cared for her. Even a witch could dream.
She put on the black shirt, the underwear, and gray pants he had set out for her. Everything was a little tight, but she could live with it. Then she sat on the toilet, resting her elbows on her thighs and placing her hands over her face. Eric had no shirt on when she woke up in the bathtub. The elements outside were brutal. Did he really risk his own life to save mine? “Was getting me back to Mason worth more than his life?” she mumbled under her breath. “He could have just let me go. He knew I wouldn’t make it far. Sure, Mason would be angry if he didn’t return me alive, but he could say I was already dead when he found me. Mason would never know. Could he really have some sort of feelings for me?”
Miranda laughed at the thought. No. She knew for a fact he couldn’t have feelings for her. Eric hated witches. He had made that more than clear on several occasions.
14
Eric
Love. Eric leaned against the wall next to the open bathroom door. How could I slip like that? And what was I thinking? The word love wasn’t in Eric Winters vocabulary. At least, not until only a few minutes ago. He didn’t love anybody. And he would never love anyone. Ever. End of story.
“Fuck.” He hit the wall behind him with the palm of his hand. Eric couldn’t dismiss the feelings he felt when Miranda’s hands absently fell from the parts of her body she was concealing. Something had come over him as his eyes roamed over her round breasts, her taut nipples, and down to the auburn patch of hair in between her thighs. Her curves and the beauty of her body caused his to awaken. He couldn’t deny he wanted her. Desire. Need. He knew he saw it in her eyes too. The carnal lust, raw and insatiable. If she had asked him, he would have taken her right there inside the bathtub.
He’d known a few women, but they never made him feel like Miranda did. Eric had been right in the beginning, when he first saw her. She was a temptress. But she had no clue how beautiful and irresistible she was. That made her even sexier. Made him want her more. It took everything he had to walk out of that bathroom, but he had to. He had to remind himself even now this was unacceptable. Eric Winters craved no one. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.
He was strong. A hunter. And he had a job to do. Besides, he despised witches. And Miranda Sage was a witch.
She stepped out of the bathroom, the clothes he had picked out for her were a little tighter than the ones she had before. “So, I suppose you’re going to follow me around like a little puppy dog.” She spun around to face him and placed her hand on her hip.
There was the little snarky attitude that turned him on so much. The girl had fire. And it took everything he had to not smile at her. “No, actually.” He winked at her as he pushed himself away from the wall. “You’re going to be following me around like a little puppy dog.”
She scrunched her face up in disapproval, and this time he couldn’t hold back his smile. If she wasn’t his prisoner or a witch, he would have kissed her right now.
“Fuck you.” She said the words sarcastically.
“First stop is the kitchen.” He ignored her. “We haven’t eaten since we got here. And I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Eric began walking away and realized she was still standing in the same spot.
He walked back over to her and grabbed her hand, feeling the tingle when he touched her skin. “Come on, Miranda.” He pulled her gently, not wanting to hurt her this time. “Don’t fight me on this. I don’t know about you, but I need a break from fighting.”
Miranda made a growling sound deep in her throat, and her emotions warred on her face for a moment, but with a shrug she finally gave in. “Fine,” she snarled.
He’d liked the fact he had broken her just a little bit. But it was only a start.
Once in the kitchen Miranda took a seat in one of the chairs at the table while Eric scoured the cabinets. There were cans and cans of food. Boxes of pasta and other nonperishable items.
“Pasta okay with you?” he asked, taking it out of the cabinet before she answered him and setting it on the counter. It was the only thing, in his opinion, that looked tempting.
“Sure.” She stared down at her hands, refusing to look up at him.
Grabbing a couple of pans out of the lower cabinets, Eric sat them on the stove. He was thankful for the magic keeping all the utilities running. Not that he couldn’t survive without them.
Filling one pan up with water, he placed it on the burner and turned it on. Grabbing a can of sauce, he used the can opener on the counter to open it. He opened two more cans. When he finished, he poured all three cans into the other pan and put it on another burner.
He turned around and noticed another door on the other side of the kitchen. Eric walked over and opened the door. Wine. The closet was filled with different bottles of wine. He glanced over his shoulder at Miranda, who was still staring down at the table. “Thirsty?”
“Sure,” she said again, her voice low.
He pulled out a bottle of red wine and walked over, setting it on the table. He wondered if her sudden change was due to her submission. From being with her for only a short period of time, he was well aware of her fire. But now it had seemed to dim. And he didn’t like it. Something deep inside craved the fiery Miranda.
Eric walked over to the cabinet and retrieved two wine glasses. He took them over and placed them on the table, and then pulled out a chair and sat across from her.
Opening the bottle of wine, he filled the two glasses, pushing one over to her. She glanced up at him from under her lashes as she wrapped her hand around the glass.
“I’m sorry to have to do this.” He picked his glass up and took a sip. “But I can’t trust you. If I let you roam the cabin, there’s no guarantee you won’t try to escape again.”
“So, I’m just supposed to sit here until the storm is over. After that you deliver me back to the Lord so he can kill me. Hmm…” She drank a mouthful of wine. “I think freezing to death is much better than being put back into his hands.” Miranda focused on him now, her green eyes seeming to glow as she looked at him. “Or you could always kill me. I don’t mind as long as it’s fast.”
Eric became speechless. He’d heard many stories about Lord Manchester, but he wasn’t sure why he frightened her so much. “He wants you alive for a reason.”
She drew in a deep breath and picked up her glass again, taking in another mouthful of the red liquid. “Mason only wants me alive so he can break me. Once he gets what he wants, he’ll drain, or at least try, to drain my power. Either way, he will find a way to kill me.”
Curiosity struck Eric, and he lifted his brows. “What do you mean by, break you?”
Miranda shifted uneasily in her chair, holding the empty glass up to him. Without hesitating, he refilled her cup and she took another swig. “I don’t really want to talk about it.” Her eyes became glassy. Eric wasn’t sure if she was holding back tears or if it was the alcohol.
Swallowing hard, he did something he wouldn’t normally do. Eric reached his hand out and put it over her free hand. “Tell me, Miranda. What does “break you” mean? What does the Lord plan to do with you?”
&nb
sp; 15
Miranda
He regretted putting his hand over hers. Miranda could see the confusion in his eyes. There was a battle going on inside of him, just as there was in her. But the tingle of his skin touching her. She couldn’t ignore it. And she didn’t imagine it.
Miranda took a deep breath, relieved that the wine had made her feel a little fuzzy. No way could she do this sober. “He had Sarah that night. The night I fled from his home.” Warm tears tugged at the corners of her eyes, and she directed her gaze to the table. “I tried to get to her, reach her before…”
“Before what?” Eric’s grip tightened on her hand.
Miranda looked up at him, no longer able to hold back the river of moisture rolling out of her eyes and down her cheeks. “He killed her, Eric. Strangled her to death right in front of me,” she sobbed. “I tried to get to her before he drained her magic, but I didn’t reach her in time. He took everything she had and tossed her to the ground.” She now cried hysterically. “She was a fucking child, Eric. A child. Eleven years old. He drained her so he could feel the high. Then he came after me.”
Eric’s expression became hard. The pulse throbbed in his jaw. And his crystal blue eyes were filled with remorse, hurt, and maybe even anger. Eric rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, and it startled Miranda. She had never felt a touch that wasn’t meant to hurt her before from a man. It was different. Comforting.
“What did he do to you?” Eric’s voice was soft and even, but his hands revealed his agitation. His free hand rested on his thigh, balled into a fist.
Miranda took a long, rigid breath. “He tried to break me.”
“Break you how, Miranda?” He pressed her.