by Leeah Taylor
“You’ve been at it for over an hour. It’s charged, Doll.” He gestured to her face. “Besides, you need to feed. You’re far too pale.”
“It’s really been that long?”
It had barely felt like five minutes.
His brow pulled together. “Are you sure you can do the spell?”
“Yes.” She started to stand, and the room spun.
Ok, maybe.
Ollie rounded the counter and caught her by the waist. “You’re not feeding.”
“Yes, she is. She goes out two or three times a week after our shift to feed.” Riley crossed her arms. “At least that’s what she told me she was doing.”
She did, most of the time, and the other times, she did everything in her power to deny the thirst. She hadn’t asked to be turned into the vampire botched mess.
“Juliette?” Riley demanded her attention. “Tell him.”
“I can’t,” she admitted.
“Damn it.” Riley fisted her hands at her side. “Is there anything else you’ve lied about or kept from me?”
She shook her head. “No, that was it.”
Ollie huffed. “Still too stubborn for your own good.”
He went to the refrigerator and took out two full bags of blood and tossed them on the counter in front of her.
“We aren’t leaving this loft until you drink.”
“Ollie...”
“Jules...”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you aren’t fine, and until you see that, you’re going to keep torturing yourself. You’re part vampire, Jules, stop resisting it. Going into Val Valena sitting on empty will guarantee this spell kills you.”
She crossed her arms and straightened her shoulders. “I’m not drinking it.”
Annoyed amusement danced across his face. “Well then, we aren’t leaving here.”
She could fight him but knew she’d lose. The only thing standing in the way of restoring the barrier was Ollie and two bags of blood. She snatched up one of the bags and unscrewed the caps.
“I hate you.” She brought the nozzle to her lips and drank.
Ollie just shrugged. “You hate that I’m right and love you enough to tell you so.”
Not only did she hate that he was right, but she hated that the blood tasted decadent and delicious.
Damien | 12
He squinted against the little light sneaking in through the curtains. Groaning and holding his pulsing head, he cursed. Every muscle ached, and his stomach rolled with nothing in it.
“I’m never touching a bottle again,” he muttered.
“Damn right, you aren’t. Hundreds of dollars in liquor at the bar on the corner, and you go and take the good shit out of my desk.” Lucien was yelling on purpose. Damien glared at him from his bed. “That’s after taking a bottle of top shelf from the bar. The hell you doing?”
Damien blew out a breath, trying to calm the boiling sickness. “Please just piss off.”
“Nope.” Lucien crossed the room and ripped the curtains open. Light flooded into the room, and Damien fumbled for the pillow to bury his head.
“You fucking asshole,” he growled with his head pounding in agony. His eyes blazed with bright white blotches. “I hate you so much.”
“How many bottles?”
“Ugh, three, Dad.” He thought about it. “I think. Now screw off so I can sleep off the misery.”
“Get up. Jules and Ollie will be by shortly to drop Riley off before they head to Val Valena. She’s going to want her mother’s grimoire,” Lucien said.
Jules? He sat up in bed, holding on to his head and waiting for the room to stop spinning as he eyed Lucien. She was here last night. “Jules is coming here?”
“Yes.”
“She and Ollie leave to go get coffee or something?”
Lucien cocked his head to the side. “The hell are you blabbering on about?”
She was there. He remembered. His dick really remembered, and it was not happy for abandoning the chance to get off.
“She didn’t stay here last night?”
“Wow, you really are still fucked up. No, she left Juleps in a foul way and went to the loft with Riley.” Lucien went to the door. “Now get up and take a shower. Maybe it will sober you up the rest of the way. And so help me if you touch another bottle in my desk and leave it empty, I’ll break your fingers. Stay out of my desk.”
The door slammed, and it did nothing for the angry throbbing in his head. Damien flipped him off. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to play the night before over in his mind. Dark, hazy fragments came back to him. He couldn’t have imagined her or her mouth on his dick or the taste of her lips. Did I really get that trashed? He remembered passing out in the chair at the desk. Everything that happened after that, he had no idea.
Damien got out of bed, regretting it the minute he was standing upright. His stomach churned hard, and he swallowed back the need to be sick. Never again. As far as he was concerned, he never wanted to see another ounce of liquor again. He shuffled into his bathroom and leaned against the counter. The feel of her body. The feel of her lips. It had all seemed so real.
She was there. It had to be real. If he imagined it, then he was too far gone when it came to Juliette, and he needed to find a way to get his head on straight.
He showered and got dressed, feeling stuck somewhere between death and kind of alive. The haze lingered in the back of his mind and held the memories of the previous night hostage. He needed coffee and blood. Maybe food if his stomach stopped threatening to empty at any minute.
If I even think about touching another shot of liquor, I’m going to kick my own ass.
Damien went for the front door. He needed fresh air and somewhere to clear his head. Hunting accomplished both.
“Where are you going?” Lucien stopped him just as he passed the study.
“Well, Dad, I figured I’d sober up by going hunting.”
“Don’t get smart with me. Where’s Ann Marie’s grimoire?”
“Safe up in my room.”
“She’s going to want it.” Lucien went back to the pages in front of him on the desk. “Why don’t you go grab it before you leave?”
“I’ll get it for her when I get back.”
“No, get it now.”
“No, barrier first, then I’ll get it for her.”
Lucien tossed his pen down and leaned back in the chair. “You aren’t holding that book hostage to manipulate her into doing the barrier spell.”
“I’m not.” He glared at him. I’m holding out because I want her. I need her to stay. His dick agreed. “I’ll be back before she’s finished, and I’ll give it to her.”
“Fine.” Lucien shook his head. “But you will give it to her without a fuss. I will not be forced to watch you two at odds again. Understand?”
“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”
He just wanted out of that house. Needed to kill something. Get Juliette Ann Marie Marquis out of his head.
“I mean it.”
“God, okay.” Damien yanked the door open then paused. “Nobody was here last night when you got home? Juliette really didn’t stay here?”
“How drunk were you?”
“Shit, apparently really fucking drunk. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
Damien pulled the door shut and tried one more time to remember anything from last night beyond the way she felt and tasted. He got hard and shoved the memories out of his head. They weren’t doing him any favors.
I can’t believe I imagined her. She felt so real. I’m so fucking gone.
Juliette | 13
There wasn’t much to say on the way up to Val Valena. Goodbye was coming, and she wasn’t sure how to find the words. Back then, Damien hadn’t given her the chance to say goodbye to Ollie, and she wished she didn’t have it now.
The Falls went by in a blur but brought on more memories and nos
talgia. She wasn’t sure she could even come back. Or if she wanted to.
Damien would still deny her the only thing she ever wanted. If by some miracle he didn’t and admitted what she’d always known, would it be enough? Could ‘I love you’ be enough to mend the gaping wounds between them? She didn’t think so.
“What do you know about Riley?” Ollie asked.
“Everything.” She glanced over at him. “What do you know about Riley?”
“Enough.”
“Then spill it.”
He parked at the base of Val Valena and turned off the jeep. “Riley O’Hare, runaway princess of the O’Hare werecat pack. Richard O’Hare, her father, has been searching for her for about ten years.”
She supported Riley’s decision. “Do you know why?”
“Daddy said arranged marriage, and Riley bolted. Smart girl too.” He shrugged. “The werecats should have ended that archaic tradition the same time the vampires stopped trying to procreate.”
She got out of the jeep and took in the place. Twenty-five years was a long time, and Val Valena hadn’t changed a bit. Magic lingered in the air, prickling cold over her skin, and she wasn’t even inside yet.
“How did you know who she was?” she asked.
They started towards Val Valena, Ollie giving a handful of guards a nod as they passed through the gates. Damien’s men. She recognized a couple of them, and they watched her with morbid curiosity. Morbid because if Damien saw the way they were watching her, he’d have their hearts.
“Her dad sent pictures a few years ago.” He coughed, clearing his throat, and she eyed him. “And asked Damien to send his best trackers. He refused. I’ve been rooting for her ever since.”
“Mhmm.” She crossed her arms, “Where’s that picture now?”
Ollie paused at the entrance of the mausoleum, wide-eyed. “Nowhere.”
“Liar!”
“I am not.”
Her mouth fell open. “Yes, you are! Got a picture of her tucked away just like she does of you.”
She slapped a hand over her mouth as the smile on his lips lit up into his eyes. Riley is going to kill me.
“Oh? Does she now?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
She heaved a sigh. “Oliver, don’t hurt her. She’s had a rough go at it too. And I, even after twenty years, can see you’re still hung up on Drew. Riley deserves someone who isn’t carrying that kind of baggage.”
“Look here, missy,” he said, crossing his arms, “Drew is my past. Okay? Ten years I gave him. Ten, Juliette. And not for a one of them was he faithful to me. I may have loved him at one time, but I could not love him enough to ever trust him again. And besides, you aren’t staying, so what does this even matter?”
There was so much angry hurt in his voice, and she had no idea for what. Drew for cheating on him? Her because she wasn’t staying? Or Damien for being the reason she wasn’t staying?
When there was nothing more to say, he motioned for her to go down into the catacombs. With a sigh, she started down the stone steps. Something felt off when she reached the bottom.
“No one’s been here since the barrier came down?” Juliette asked.
The magic that hung in the air felt familiar. Static electricity zapped over her heated skin.
“Nope, Damien put double the men on it. Why? You okay?”
She nodded, trying to brush it off. “Yeah. Just been a long time since I’ve been somewhere with so much stagnant magic.”
That wasn’t it. Where have I felt this magic before?
They entered the great room, and Juliette went to the altar, shoved the old ingredients off, and began setting up her own. She glanced at her mother’s stone coffin. Their family insignia, a tree with deep roots, was carved into the top of the coffin, signifying the Marquis strength in power. Ann Marie didn’t deserve it. Any of it.
She laid out the map of Sterling and marked the page with a crude line using her own blood to represent the barrier.
“Have you guys had any luck finding out who helped the werewolf?” Juliette asked.
“No, but Lucien is working with Chelsea to narrow down the possibilities.”
She half-smiled. “I remember what it was like to be looked at like that. Saw it last night and…”
“Kinda socked ya in the chest, didn’t it?”
“A little bit.”
“Are you jealous?”
She sighed, looking up from her work. “I’m jealous Damien will never give me the same adoration.”
“Oh, Doll…” Ollie smiled. “He does; he just doesn’t know how to say or show it without believing you’ll be stolen from him the minute he does.”
She nodded, returning to the copper bowl on the altar, but her heart wasn’t in it. “Julian did a number on you guys.”
“Damien most of all.”
It’d be easy to let Damien off the hook for his denial. His deep seated need to avoid the love that had blossomed between them over a century ago. She blinked away the burn in the corner of her eyes to focus on the spell. It wasn’t fair for her to suffer because of his fear though. He was a grown-ass man now. Not a little boy.
A finger hooked under her chin, lifting it to meet soft, gentle eyes.
“All hope isn’t lost yet, Doll.” Ollie tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “He’s there, I promise, but petrified. Of you. Of his love for you. Of losing you for real.”
She cleared her throat just to hold off the desire to break for Ollie. He had the power to make her.
“He’s already lost me, Ollie.”
She managed a small smile, but it did nothing for the craving down deep to curl up in Oliver’s arms and let him piece her back together. He sighed, pulling her into his chest, and kissed the top of her head.
“I get it, Doll. I really do. Twenty years is a long time to pretend we didn’t exist in your world. Pretending Damien didn’t exist. And coming home couldn’t have been easy. Being here can’t be easy. But you are here. So no more pretending.”
Clapping echoed off the stone walls, and Ollie yanked Juliette behind him before she could react. She locked onto familiar eyes and shuddered. The dark hair. The overconfident smile. The familiar spark of magic dripping from him.
“You,” she whispered. “It’s him.”
“Who? The wolf that attacked you?” Ollie held tightly to her from behind.
The man smiled, showing his teeth with that same confidence he’d had before. She couldn’t shake the same odd feeling from the motel. Something familiar.
“Attacked you?” He cocked his head. “Oh, Kitten, you were more than willing. I’d even say you enjoyed it. Wouldn’t have pegged you for the dominant type with all your rules, but I would have loved to feel those gorgeous lips on my—"
In a fluid movement, Ollie pulled a gun out from his backside and pointed it at the man. Wolfsbane stung Juliette’s nose. She fell back, staring wide-eyed at Ollie. He held the gun in front of him, but she didn’t miss the tremble in his arm.
“I’d think very hard about the next words that come out of your mouth.” He glimpsed back at Juliette. “Call Damien.”
She reached for her phone, but with the flick of his wrist the man ripped it out of her hand and sent it across the room into the stone wall. Shattering it.
What the actual fuck?
“Oliver Frost,” he spit the name out. “I think you have done quite enough to meddle in my life.”
“I thought you said he was a wolf?” Ollie looked back at her.
“He is.”
The man threw his hands up. “Where are my manners? Ramsey Night.”
“As in Adrian Night?” Ollie asked with the gun firmly out in front of him. “What? You some sort of third cousin removed looking for some cliché revenge?
“Is it revenge?” Ramsey weighed the imaginary options with his hands. “It’s really only cliché if I was doing this in the name of revenge. Your
brother killed my daddy. Blah, blah, blah and so on and so forth.”
“Daddy?” Juliette fell back. “Adrian didn’t have any children.”
“None you knew about, but I guess you and I would have that in common. Daddy didn’t like me. Mommy didn’t like you. Hid us away.”
“You’re saying you’re Adrian Night’s kid?” Ollie scoffed. “The bastard would have one or two roaming around.”
Ramsey smirked. “Something like that.”
“What is this all about then, if not revenge?” Juliette asked, looking for every possibly way out. She eyed the spell on the altar and then Ramsey. I’m not that fast.
Ramsey clicked his tongue. “Don’t do that, Kitten. You’ll take all the fun out of this moment for me. Don’t spoil it.”
“What do you gain from bringing down the barrier? Letting the wolves back into Sterling seems very underwhelming,” she said.
“It really does, doesn’t it?” Something flickered in his gaze. It softened for her, but just as quickly, it vanished. Hardening. “It is a perk, I guess. In all honesty, I was supposed to kill you in that motel room, Kitten.” He sighed as the warmth returned in his eyes “You were just so goddamn beautiful and special. I couldn’t bring myself to end something so unique. My mistake.”
“Meaning?” Ollie asked, pushing Juliette back.
“I’m getting a two for one. Or maybe it’s a three for one. No matter.” He reached into the inside of his jacket, and Ollie pulled back the hammer of his gun. “Oh, just keep your panties on.”
He pulled out a small box with a switch on it.
Juliette’s heart dropped. “Ollie, that’s a detonator.”
Ramsey looked down like he hadn’t noticed. “So it is.” His gaze narrowed on Juliette. “It really is a shame, Kitten. I wanted a chance to get to know you. Something so special about you.”
“Then let me give you a chance,” she said, eyeing the gun and the detonator and then the altar.
“See, you keep getting that determined, ‘my life be damned’ look in your eyes, Juliette, and it makes me really antsy.” Ramsey shifted his attention to the bowl sitting on the altar. “Let me remove the temptation, yeah?”
A flick of his wrist and the bowl soared across the room, crashing into the stone. The dark crimson concoction splattered in all directions, rendering the spell and its ingredients useless. Shit! A sound exploded in the confined stone space when the gun went off, and the bullet ricocheted off the door, but Ramsey was gone.