by Lynn S.
“And of course, you believed her. And yes, she did have her say, but she told me, and left.”
“What are you talking about?” Marissa looked at him with a quizzical expression.
“By the time I was done in the yard, you had fallen asleep on the bench. I brought you here and then went to check on Adriana. Dawn was about to break and I offered the attic, but she refused. That’s when I thought something went on between you. She said she’d go and take to earth somewhere, whatever that means.” He could feel her crumbling. Marissa was about to become a messy bundle of emotions, presided by guilt, so he guided her. “Listen, sweetheart, your mother found a way to give you back the semblance of normalcy you were used to. You were hard on her, true; she understands better than anyone where you are coming from. There is no need for tears now, but whenever we see her again, keep in mind to be thankful for what she sacrificed for you.”
He had her right where he wanted her. His thumb caressed the length of her cheekbone and she looked up. Her eyes were moist with tears and those lips that just chased after playtime moments before now quivered. What an irresistible, delicate, malleable creature. He could see her adjusting to all his desires. He gathered at first he’d have to be careful not to force her with word or action. The fairy who wore the body of Esteban O’Reilly as a suit had to sacrifice his tendency toward cruelty and abuse, but it would be a generous exchange. He continued, calmly, lovingly, but making sure to twist the dagger of guilt a little further.
“Adriana found a way to keep you from going into permanent transition. It requires total separation; no contact whatsoever.”
“But if that is the case…why couldn’t she wait ’til tonight?” She was about to break down, so he held her even closer. His frail, predictable, little Marissa. “Because it is Adriana, and you should know. She’s always had strange ways to show she cares. I guess she thought it only fair, to give us a fresh start. I broke off with my world, and now you must break with yours.”
“Yes, but Carla and Isabel…I’m sorry Esteban, but there is no ground for comparison here. Adriana wouldn’t just abandon me like this to right some absurd wrong. Even if her logic is out there half the time!”
“You are not abandoned. You have me.” It was the perfect moment to start weaving his trap. If he allowed her to cry, he might lose her to regrets, memories, questions, and possibilities. He answered her with a kiss as ardent as the one she had asked of him before. However, this time, it was she who tried to avoid him, being too hurt. Her little protest soon came to pass. This man knew exactly what to say and where to touch her.
“Here. Now, Marissa. It feels like I’ve waited an eternity just to have you.” There was something about the cadence of his voice, the pressing way in which his body coerced her to conform to his desire, that was almost intimidating.
It was Esteban, her Esteban, though for a brief moment he felt like a stranger, too eager to drag her underneath the covers. She tried to question without saying a word and simply stopped him, placing her finger against his lips, asking for a pause. She trembled, knowing it was a battle she was surely about to lose. That scent that permeated his skin drove her crazy. He knew to wait and then it was his turn to ask.
“Why must we stop? You have missed me as much as I’ve missed you. Whenever I reached out to you, the agony in your eyes told me that you were willing to cross into hell after me. Is it because I never got to say I’m sorry? I. Am. Sorry.” Each word was interrupted by a flurry of tender kisses. “Now, I want you. Right here, right now.”
Esteban had always been sure of himself, leading her around to crazy adventures or insisting on changing her point of view, and through it all he remained generous and kind. But this time there was a boastful ring to his words, something crossing into a vulgar display of power upon her. Marissa felt as if she were speaking to a man so comfortable in his role that he simply allowed her to enjoy his company. There was something missing of the Esteban who never cared much about being the one who loved instead of the center of attention.
His words, though enticing, carried the impression of a challenge. A little bit more give me than allow me. But he managed to make it feel like something new and exciting.
He kissed her like one who wanted to mark their territory. Unflinching, he took to her lips, teasing, biting. He guided her, and once again, her doubts disappeared as their bodies fit perfectly against one another. His torso brushed against the mounds of her breasts and she arched her back while threading her fingers through his light brown hair.
Protesting no more, a soft moan escaped her lips as she felt Esteban’s hands ridding her of the t-shirt that had served as a nightgown. Once naked, he couldn’t help but take her in, one sense at a time. His eyes studied her in detail, delighted at the perfection of her lithe body that reacted even to stray droplets of water that escaped his moist hair and landed on the flat of her stomach. He followed the trail of water, touching his lips to her skin, and the contact was explosive.
Marissa closed her eyes, inviting. She was ready, and there was no greater pleasure than his touch and that scent that drove her crazy. It reminded her of night blooming cereus, dew, and honey. Her hands anchored on his shoulders as they found their rhythm in a frenzy.
His eyes had always been like prisms, hazel that captured both bronze and gold. When their gazes met, Marissa saw a trace of green hiding behind a gilt spark.
“I want all of you, Marissa. All.”
***
There was a place where souls weren’t able to find their rest. It was a void in which those who left things pending dwelled, pleading for a chance at revenge or justice. It was a crossroad for those who wouldn’t, or couldn’t, cross the threshold, and lingered between this world and their final destination.
And why not? In such a place there was enough for all. Through one door, mortal spirits gone astray, through another, vampyrs.
Adriana was overwhelmed by the crimson sky above. The blood red that always haunted her existence now extended beyond the horizon, looming over a thousand roads that led to nowhere.
“So, this is hell,” she announced to no one.
“Not really. It’s just a glorified warehouse. Anyone can find their way here if they know where to look. As far as I understand, some clever boys and girls can open a doorway from your mortal plane just by gazing into the right mirror.”
Three women conjured themselves from thin air. Their gowns were as dark as their wings. Either Mikka had forgotten the price to pay for impertinence or Annand was in the best of humor. It was hard to say. The Phantom Queens smiled at Adriana. Bansit and Mikka tipped their heads crowned by blinding platinum strands while Annand guided her blind eyes toward her voice, acknowledging.
Adriana had a couple of things to say about their indifference to all that transpired in the Circle. Overtaken by rage, she pretended to turn on the sisters. Mikka and Bansit didn’t even waver, while Annand made her fall to the ground with a simple turn of her wrist.
“Don’t try my patience. You are but a sigh, a spirit bound to a body by a delicate thread. So easy to snap, in a heartbeat your so-called immortal coil can let go and rot in that attic while your soul flies to whatever heaven or hell vampyrs have made for themselves.”
Adriana knew the woman was not bluffing. She remembered the ease with which she had called her a mortal creature and soon found out that even spirits could get the chills.
“If we are here,” Annand continued on behalf of the three, “it is to repair a damage done. We can’t interfere unless a pact is broken and House Alexander committed a grave mistake. Francis Alexander promised to deliver a body and a soul, but took it as a vessel. He annihilated an innocent. The Dark Herald also failed his own, destroying the portal to Aval and leaving his acolytes to meet their fate at the hands of the Seelie Court. Wicked or not, words given count for something. He shed his own blood and, ironically, Isabel, who was guilty, has become purified. As terrible as a mother’s deeds to get back a son, a f
ather’s murderous hand cleansed her. His negligence has been made evident, now there’s no place he can run for mercy. Hear us today. We built Francis Alexander and now we’ll tear him down. Our work will be done when he is met with justice.”
“Good. When do we begin?” Adriana was itching to give it a go.
“When all pieces are in place,” the platinum twins answered as one.
“And until then?”
“In the meantime you’ll wait. We did our best to find you fitting company.”
Annand held out her hands, shaping them into a cup. Water dripped from the bloody, concave sky above them, finding its way to her palms and sizzling with energy. Electricity and water hit the rock at their feet with the might of lightning, and once the blistering steam opened a passage between worlds, there he was.
“You did the best you could, beautiful. That counts as a lot in my book.”
Adriana found a reason to smile. She touched the side of the face of the spirit; to her joy, she discovered that in this bizarre and unexplainable realm, souls were tangible.
“And I thought I left you back there with all my human fancies. Nice to see you, Bastian.”
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Acknowledgments
No book is ever written without support. I’d like to express my gratitude to the following:
Bob Sellers, author of Blood-Lines, for his wise advice and helpful hints. You, sir, are a cowboy and a gentleman.
RK Close, author of Red Night, who has proven to be more than a fellow writer, but also an amazing friend.
Michelle Hayes, a soul of exquisite sensibilities and a constant inspiration. You are a queen in my magic circle.
My family, who put up with all those days of me behind closed doors with utmost grace.
Lori Whitwam and the wonderful team at Limitless Publishers—this newbie will always be grateful for the opportunity given. Thanks for assigning me to Gillian Leonard, who made sure I didn’t end up crossing my Is and dotting my Ts and scaring you all for all the wrong reasons. I’ve never felt so loved as a writer.
One final shout out…
Can’t leave without saying thanks to Wattpad. It’s an amazing community that gave me a start. You are my friends and neighbors in a virtual world. Your votes and comments gave me courage enough to query.
And, of course, you, dear reader. You could have left me hanging after just one chapter, but here we are. Much love.
About the Author
Hi there! My name is Lynnette Santiago, author of Court for Fairies, which I hope will be the first of a series entitled Dark Heralds of Fae.
I was born in an Island. As much as I loved to be lulled by the sea, there was always a sense of wonder about what I could find beyond the horizon.
Writing took me there, as I reached out to worlds that were not my own and step by step, shyly at first, combined them with details of everyday life.
Eventually, the unexpected took me from Puerto Rico to New York, before I settled in Florida.
I have been an Assistant Librarian, a Debt Collector, A Security Guard, a Medical Assistant and an Office Manager for a Beauty School. This all counts as research, if you ask me.
I have an extended family which I love, friends I adore, and a raccoon that comes to my yard once in a while and allows me to pet it. Mine are a number of simple routines.
I love writing, that's a given. It is freedom from illness, strength, solace, and most of all fun. I'll stop the day I don't sit in from of my keyboard sporting a smile.
I'll offer you a measure of horror, fantasy and a wacky version of romance to help things move along. It's my goal in life to keep you entertained.
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/sandernei
Twitter:
https://www.twitter.com/Lynnette_S13
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https://www.goodreads.com/LynnetteSantiago