“Maybe next time, I’ll let you drive.”
“Nah.” He took her hand. “We still would’ve ended up here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he reassured her.
They sat together quietly for a long time, digging their toes into the sand and looking out to the water. Out to the boat where their past selves were currently having the best sex of their lives.
As the water washed up on their feet and was pulled back out to sea, slowly, but surely, he let go of the heavy knot that had curled up inside of him. Emmie, sighed, and he rather imagined she’d just done the same.
“I guess we needed a time out.”
“Things are moving pretty fast. Back there, out in the world, so many enemies are aligning against us. It’s hard to do anything but prepare for war.”
“I’m so tired of being afraid. Those moments on that boat with you, that’s the only time in recent memory when I wasn’t afraid.”
His pride swelled knowing he’d done that for her. Been her safe place. There was a satisfaction in having been able to fulfill his purpose. As her mate, her safety was his number one priority.
The fact that she was afraid all the time, that didn’t sting him like he’d come to expect. She chose to be away from him. She chose not to let him protect her. He couldn’t blame himself for that. Emmie was a woman who could make her own choices and it wasn’t up to him to take that away from her—even if he thought she was wrong.
The beast under his skin thought differently, but didn’t protest. He’d accepted that Emmie needed a different kind of mate.
“You know I’ll do whatever I can to make that happen for you.”
She leaned back in the sand and stretched. “You know what I really want?”
“Tell me.”
“It’s horrible.”
“Doubtful.”
She turned to look at him. “You don’t think wishing death on another person is awful?”
“No.”
“No qualifiers on that, Drew? Just… no?”
“You wish Peter was dead. If he was dead, you would be safe. Noah would be safe. That’s not rocket science, sweetheart.”
“But I want it to be ugly. I want him to feel all the fear he’s inflicted on others. I want him to suffer.”
“Also valid. I don’t think you’re horrible.” He held himself back from waxing poetic about the way he’d like to remove Peter’s limbs from his body and spray his blood in a fountain. She didn’t need to hear that, she was already afraid.
“I wish I’d met you before him,” she whispered.
“I don’t.”
“Why not?” she asked, her voice quiet.
“We are who we are because of all of our experiences. If I could take your fear and pain from you, I would. But who you are now is who is my mate.”
Chapter Nine
His words should’ve been a balm, but all she could think about was what he’d miss out on being saddled with a mate who couldn’t be like him. Who couldn’t accept all of him.
“What does that mean for you?”
“Let’s not talk about this anymore, okay? We’ve had enough. All of the darkness and fear, it’s all going to be there when we get back. Today, let’s walk on the beach. Let’s talk about things like we did when we first met.”
“You were an art student.” She remembered how perfect she’d thought he was. How surprised when he asked her to go to the café. The butterflies that kept crashing into each other in her stomach every time he looked at her.
If she was being honest with herself, they still did.
“I still am. I’ll always have the heart of an artist.”
“And a wolf.”
“All creative types must, if they’re to survive.”
She dug her toes deeper into the sand, the water inching oh so slowly from her feet, to her ankles. “I suppose they must,” Emmie agreed.
“Let’s go back to Kapari,” he suggested.
They’d spent their last night together there. It had been a magical time that had gained mythical status in her memory.
“Mmm. Kapari. I always wondered how a college student could’ve afforded a restaurant like that. I didn’t even stop to think about how we just showed up and got right in.”
“We can do that tonight. Watch the sunset and talk over a great bottle of wine and good food.”
She hadn’t been out to dinner since…
The last time she’d been here, in Santorini.
She’d grabbed fast food drive-thru, but an honest-to-goodness sit down meal with wine and conversation? Not since Drew.
Emmie hadn’t done a lot of things since Drew.
Like sex.
Or even brushing her hair in peace.
It was sad that for her, those two occupied the same top space on her list of things she’d enjoy. She might even pick brushing her hair in silent solitude over the sex.
Until she looked at Drew. Then it was all about sex. Image after image of carnal iniquities occupied almost every corner of her brain.
Except that single dark corner—and when she thought that she might surrender to Drew, to the inevitable draw between them, that dark corner grew like a shadow out of a nightmare, swallowing her whole.
Behind that darkness lurked dragons.
No, not dragons. Werewolves. Hungry slavering beasts that devoured, consumed, hunted… What was under his skin saw her as prey. Food.
She trembled.
“Emmie?”
God, she hated this. She couldn’t live this way. She didn’t know what to do. Her son was this thing. How was she going to teach him to be a man if she was afraid of him?
She forced herself to look at him again and the darkness had passed. It was only Drew. Drew, who she knew would keep her safe.
“Kapari sounds great. After swimming.” She scrambled to her feet, stripped off her clothes before she could think better of it, and swam out into the water.
Drew laughed and followed suit.
She didn’t look at him as he removed his clothes. She didn’t want the darkness to come back—or the throbbing between her legs.
“On second thought, we can’t go back to Kapari,” he said as he swam out to meet her.
“Why not?”
“Because we’ll already be there. We’ll have to go back in the future.”
“This is really the most ridiculous conversation.” Emmie laughed. “Maybe we could bring Noah. Show him where we met.”
“I would love that, Em.”
She let the water take her as she floated on her back. Here they were, in the sand and sun. The beautiful waters of Santorini. This had been the best time of her life. The only time she ever remembered being happy.
Emmie turned in the water. She needed to look at him. To see him and know he was real. Maybe this was another dream, only she didn’t know it. Maybe the dark things that chased her through the forest were under the water.
Maybe—
He was suddenly by her side, close enough to save her from any real threat.
She looked up at him. The way the water clung to his shoulders. The way his hair curled just over his brow, unruly. That wasn’t a word she’d have used to describe him, not even when he was just an art student. Maybe that was Santorini magick. Making them both things they’d never be elsewhere.
Letting them be something together they couldn’t be elsewhere.
She waited for the barrage of nightmares and the stranglehold of fear to choke her when she thought again about making love to Drew. Being with him again, here in this haven against time, space, and darkness.
It was suddenly gone.
Her fears about the dark things under the water, the sensation that always prickled the back of her neck telling her to run.
It was all gone.
For this single moment in time, she was free.
She was free to be who she was, free to dream, free from fear.
It was the most amazing feeling in the wor
ld, and she could think of nothing that she wanted more than for Drew to be able to share this with her.
There’d be no “I’m sorry” here in Santorini. In this place away from the world. Away from the dark.
“What changed?” Drew said, obviously sensing something was different.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because we’re in a place out of time? But my demons couldn’t stay.”
“I’m glad.” He reached out to touch her, and she didn’t pull away.
But his touch wasn’t what she expected it to be. It wasn’t hot and urgent, or hungry. It was gentle. It was concerned.
The way he cupped her cheek was devastating. There was so much they hadn’t been able to say to each other in that simple caress. It was full of memories, of hope.
It was good.
Good like nothing had been in a long time.
She put her arms around his neck, but he didn’t pull her close.
“What the hell is that?” He turned his head out toward the boat where their past selves were frolicking.
Only, they didn’t see their past selves.
There was someone else on the boat with them.
All that fear came rushing back and Emmie knew instinctively that the shadow figure creeping across the deck was someone—or something—dangerous.
“In broad daylight, Drew. Who is that?”
“I don’t know. But I can’t go over and ask. We could run into ourselves. Or whoever that is could run into us. Obviously, they don’t hurt us.”
She knew he meant to be reassuring, but there was nothing in the world that could reassure her now.
Instead of panicking and surrendering to that terror crawling back up her throat, Emmie forced herself to look. Forced herself to stare. “It’s not Peter.”
“How do you know?”
“He’d have killed us while we slept.”
“Stay here. I’m going to swim closer.”
Treading water, she had a realization. What she was doing right now, she could keep doing. She could keep treading water. Or she could decide to swim and getting somewhere was better than spinning her wheels.
“Like hell. I’m coming with you.”
She expected him to tell her not to, to warn her away. But he didn’t. He simply nodded and they swam toward the boat.
Emmie remembered her time with him on that boat so clearly. She replayed it in her head all the time. It was special. It was magick.
And she was pissed off that there was someone sullying that. Someone who’d infringed on their haven away from the rest of the world. It marred the memory of that seemingly perfect time together.
Goddamn him for that.
She swam out, stroke after stroke, intent on one thing—the shadow figure. Emmie didn’t know what they were going to do when they got there, but damn it, this was something she could do. Some action she could take.
They finally neared the boat. “What are we going to do if we see us?”
“That’s not going to happen. We didn’t see us the first time, did we?”
She supposed that was true, but what if—she couldn’t even get into the paradox. It made her head ache.
When they got close to the boat, he whispered, “I’m going to swim around the other side and see if I can get a better look at him.”
He disappeared under the water in a single, smooth motion.
She crept around to the rear of the boat, and pulled herself up the ladder. Drew seemed convinced they wouldn’t get caught and she had to see this man up close. There was something so familiar about him. Emmie was afraid, but she was tired of being afraid and she knew somehow this man held the key to her fear.
Emmie had to face him. For Drew. For Noah. For herself.
It occurred her as she stood, dripping on the deck, that maybe he’d followed them into the past too. If they could use magick to do it, what was stopping anyone else?
The thought of Peter being able to go back in time, to send someone else—she strangled the thought in its infancy. He wasn’t Peter.
He didn’t have anything to do with Peter.
The truth of that statement resonated in her bones and she took a deep breath.
“Kate!”
She looked up to see the hooded man. His eyes were so blue, they were arctic and they chilled her insides to ice.
Emmie knew him, but she didn’t remember who he was. He was so familiar, it rattled her that she couldn’t place him.
“Oh Kate, look at what they’ve done to you.”
He took a step forward, and she stepped back. There was nowhere to go, except back in the water. She had a feeling that if this man was determined to hurt her, it wouldn’t matter how far she ran.
“I wish I could tell you not to be afraid of me, but you should be.” Something swam in the depths of his eyes, literally. Thin snake-like strands pulsed and throbbed in those ice blue pools, spilling out across the iris like an alien infection. “You should run.”
“Are you one of them?”
“Oh yes,” he whispered on a hiss. “And so are you.”
“You have me mistaken for someone else.” Where was Drew? She tried not panic. Emmie knew he’d be able to smell it on her. She took a deep breath. “Why are you following me?”
He didn’t answer her. Instead, he said, “Tell Lenore that Sebastian Monk sends his love.”
Chills rolled down her spine in snaky tendrils, much like those writhing things in his eyes. It was as if he touched her with them, somehow. Drew was suddenly beside her, his body angled as if to put himself between her and Sebastian.
“I’ll be seeing you soon,” he promised, his voice rumbling deep in this throat, much like Drew’s had sounded when he’d been Changed.
His whole face churned--the smear after an artist dipped his brush to blend oils. It was viscous and wet, that Change. Full of teeth, and darkness—black tentacles emerging from his mouth to reach for her like some Lovecraftian horror.
And he was gone--disappeared as if he’d never been standing there, a manifestation of all of her worst nightmares.
She hadn’t thought that there was anything worse in the world than Peter Breslin, but she’d been wrong. It was this thing.
Emmie looked up at Drew. She kept waiting for him to berate her, to tell her that she was stupid to have boarded the ship. That she should’ve waited for him.
He said none of those things.
Instead, he cupped her cheek. “You’re safe. I will protect you.”
Only she didn’t want to need protection. She didn’t want to cower behind him, but Jesus Fucking Christ, how the hell was she supposed to hold her own again something like that?
She reached out a shaking hand toward him and he pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her.
For a moment, everything was okay. His arms offered sanctuary against the darkness. She let herself surrender to him, to the strength he offered her. He felt so good, the skin to skin connection. It was as if simply touching him infused her with everything she needed.
“What’s happening here?”
“I don’t know, but he seemed to know you.”
She shuddered. “And… it feels like I know him. Only, I can’t remember. When I try, it’s like there’s this… wall.”
He tightened his embrace. “Then maybe you don’t need to remember.”
“He said he’ll see me soon. I need to remember.”
“No, sweetheart. You don’t need to remember for me to kill him. He’ll be just as dead and you and Noah will be just as safe.”
A cry echoed from below deck, but it didn’t have anything to do with the terror from earlier. It was all pleasure.
Emmie blushed as she remembered exactly what flick of his tongue caused her to make that sound.
“We’re making good memories in there,” he said.
“We are. I wouldn’t change it, you know.” She pulled back so she could look up into his eyes. “This time with you, it’s the best thing that ever happened
to me. It gave me pleasure. It gave me peace. It gave me Noah.”
“It’s no wonder the broom brought us back here. It’s a memory I’ve revisited many times.”
She understood that he didn’t mean simply a fond remembrance. Heat suffused her. She didn’t want him to see her blush and she turned her face into his shoulder again.
Maybe this could happen here--after all it already had. “Do remember what I said about my demons?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “It looks like they found me anyway. I guess that’s the lesson, huh? You can never really outrun them. They always find you in the end.”
“Our little vacation doesn’t have to be over.”
“I don’t think it was ever meant to be a vacation. Your Mrs. Westwood seems like she’d be big on object lessons and I’d say this was a big one.”
“You’re right about that. Hey, at least she sent you back in time. She hits me in the back of the head.” He smiled, the expression warm and tender.
She wondered if the witch had also wanted Emmie to see Drew, this new, sleek predator Drew in the same way as she’d seen Art Student Drew. To reconcile they were in fact the same person.
Emmie was heartily sick of lessons, no matter how well intentioned they seemed to be.
“Let’s go back to Aphelion. If we come back to Santorini, we’ll have to do it in the present.”
“Will you still spend the evening?”
“Yes.” The broom appeared in her hand. “I’m never going to get used to that.”
“Do you want me to drive?”
“Hell no.” She grinned and straddled the broom. Then she realized she was still in her underwear and bra. “Uh, maybe some clothes.”
The broom obliged. She and Drew were both dry and dressed in what they’d been wearing before.
“Thanks, punkin.” She petted the broom and it revved. “Hopefully, I take us back to Aphelion.”
His arms slid around her waist, and she settled back against his warmth.
Before long, the massive mansion came into view. It was as if they hadn’t moved at all, but time and space had folded instead.
“I still can’t believe people actually live there.”
“People work there, too. Our Research and Development for Woolven Industries is on site. Blake’s mate was VP of R&D and determined to kill him.”
The Werewolf Tycoon's Secret Baby (The Woolven Secret Book 2) Page 7