by Amber Kallyn
Along the far wall, she could see a disturbance in the colors.
Thinking of what she’d done in the field outside, she raised a hand and whipped the magic at the empty spot on the other side of the room.
Laroche screamed.
His image flickered.
With a roar, Connor flashed forward, hacking with his sword at Laroche.
The demon disappeared once more. “You’ll pay for that, bitch.” The venom in his voice made her heart stutter, her throat tighten, as memories flooded her.
Sean’s chains rattled and she turned, just in time to watch another welt appear on her son’s flesh.
“Get away from him,” she said, whipping her magic at the dark spot standing next to Sean.
The empty place moved faster than she had.
She missed.
But at least she’d gotten the demon away from Sean.
“Damn it,” Connor growled beside her. “How do we make him stop jumping around?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can’t you bind him?”
As if that hadn’t crossed her mind. “What do you think?” she muttered, searching for any sign of Laroche.
“Then how the hell do we kill him?”
“I’m working on it.”
Power exploded, a blast in between them. Ashlyn flew across the room, slamming into the wall. Opposite of her, Connor hit the window. Glass shattered as he crashed through it, falling outside.
Laroche laughed triumphantly. “One down.”
Something snapped in Ashlyn’s mind. In her soul. She stared at the shattered glass, unable to think about Connor being hurt, or worse.
“Your lover is dead. Your son is nearly there. Yet, still you fight. I thought I had beaten your spirit long ago.”
She blinked, gathering herself. She couldn’t do anything about Connor right now. Had to get past the numbing, gut-wrenching pain. Dead or not, she had to save Sean.
Pushing against the wall, she rose to her feet, only to have Laroche’s power pummel her body, forcing her against the wood.
“I can see your soul my dear. We are connected, you and I.”
His power flared around her. She couldn’t move, could barely think. The colorfulness of her magic dimmed, replaced by the gray-red of the demon’s.
She struggled to bring it back, to reconnect, but it continued to slip away.
Laroche appeared directly in front of her. His eyes were fully black, his lips stretched in a leering grin. “It’s about time. You’ve been so much trouble. Now to pay.”
The darkness encroached on everything, until all she could see was Laroche, and right behind him, Sean hanging from the shackles.
The demon’s eyes bored into her, and she felt him trying to steal her very will. Forcing herself to look away from those endless depths, she stared at her son.
Must save him.
Would not fail.
Light flashed between them, and suddenly, she could see the oozing red flame connecting her and Laroche. Through the dizziness and confusion, she latched onto an idea. Perhaps she could use that connection.
Ashlyn concentrated on the link, watching as the pale colors of her magic swirled around it, never touching the flames.
Using the last ounce of her strength, she screamed, calling for her power. It flooded their link, then burst inside her, pushing the slimy darkness away.
Laroche bellowed as she managed to raise a hand and force the colors at him.
He stumbled back.
Emboldened, she forced her other hand up, resisting the pressure of his dark magic. Then she whipped it at him.
A slash opened across his cheek. He cried out, eyes widening as she continued to break through his spell.
He grabbed his chest as she shoved it inside him.
A clan war cry rang in the air as Connor raced into the room from the hall.
Relief flashed through her. Thank god he was alive.
Laroche glanced at him disbelievingly, then disappeared. Yet their link continued to glow brightly.
* * *
Connor stopped, amazed at the sight of Ashlyn. She glowed with an inner power, light radiating from her like some avenging angel.
“Where the hell did he go?” Connor swiped at his bloody face, trying to clear his eyes. Glass ground over his skin, and he hissed.
Ashlyn’s gaze fell on him and he nearly stepped back. The white of her eyes was black, her pupils completely red.
“Ashlyn?” he asked.
She waved at an empty corner of the room.
Laroche screamed, coming back into view, more slashes oozing over his cheek. “Bitch,” he shouted.
She smiled, predatory. “That’s right. The little bitch. But not your bitch. Never again, Laroche.”
She waved at him again, and another red slash opened on his other cheek. A reddish-black oozed from the wound. The air filled with the gagging scent of decay. Rot.
Laroche screamed as he rushed for Ashlyn. Connor jumped forward, to block him, but the demon disappeared, only to reappear closer to Ashlyn.
The demon bulled into her.
She barely budged.
He sneered.
Ashlyn raised her hands, then fisted them.
Laroche’s eyes bulged, the black fading into normal brown. He gasped, as if trying to breathe.
“Connor. Now,” she whispered.
He rushed forward and swung his katana. The sound of sword meeting flesh reverberated in the room. The demon’s head flew from his shoulders and rolled over the floor.
The remaining color in Ashlyn’s face drained, and her eyes fluttered closed as she fell.
Connor jumped forward, caught her. He laid her gently on the bed. “Ashlyn?”
The sheriff’s words raced through his mind. Had he killed her when he severed the demon’s head? God no.
He hunched over her, his sword clattering to the floor as he searched for her heartbeat. Relief flooded him when he found it, strong and healthy.
She’d fainted, was all.
The power she’d been using, he’d felt it, so strong. He calmed himself, saying over and over, “She just needs rest.”
After releasing the chains holding Sean against the wall, Connor laid their son next to Ashlyn. The boy was a pale as his mother. He didn’t even stir at Connor’s touch.
And he looked so young, fragile and wounded.
Connor’s heart filled with a strange pride as he watched over them both. His family.
Safe now.
At last with him.
Steps headed up the door and he reached for his sword, then relaxed when Jordan entered.
Jordan raised a brow. “The fun’s already over?”
“Aye.” Connor grinned, feeling lighter than he had in years.
Turning to Laroche’s body, he dug into the demon’s chest and ripped out the warm heart. Taking his bag from his jean pocket, Connor sprinkled sand and ash over it. After lighting the pile with his Zippo, he watched the decayed thing burned.
Scattering the ashes, he glanced at Jordan. “What do you want done with the body?”
Jordan looked around the bedroom, his eyes darkening as if bad memories assailed him. “Burn the whole place.”
Connor picked Ashlyn up in his arms, cradling her close, as Jordan carried Sean over his shoulder. Outside, Jordan’s clan of vampires stood in a silent circle, the bodies of the people who’d worked with Laroche scattered over the ground.
“Take their hearts,” Connor said, staring at the pile of demons.
Nora strode forward, between Brandon and Shane. “Done.” She pointed to the pile near the bodies.
Nodding, he opened his mouth to explain what to do, but Shane chuckled. “I’ve dealt with demons. Don’t worry. Get your family home and take care of them.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Jordan settled Sean in the back seat of Nora’s red Camaro. Connor slid in beside him, Ashlyn on his lap.
Back at the castle, Jordan helped carry Sean
upstairs to Ashlyn’s room.
“Leave them both in here,” Connor said quietly.
Jordan nodded, and headed for the door. “I’ll send up some food for you, and for them when they wake.”
“Thank you.” It was heartfelt, and for so much more than just being a friend, and clan.
Jordan grinned. “Always, cousin.”
Hours later, full from the bountiful dinner, warmed not just by the roaring fire, merely sitting and watching Ashlyn and Sean sleep, Connor realized he was content.
He wanted them permanently. He’d known it before, but now, he realized if the two of them didn’t accept him, he’d be lost.
Wandering the earth with no purpose.
He straightened, determined to do whatever it took to convince Ashlyn to stay.
To give them a chance.
To be a family.
To love.
Chapter Seventeen
Ashlyn woke, her thoughts sluggish. Then the memories came. Jerking upright, she searched the shadowy room for Laroche.
Connor’s soothing voice came. “You’re safe, darling. You and Sean both.”
A warm hand fell on hers and she stared at her son sitting beside her, chewing on a half eaten steak.
“Are you all right?” She touched his forehead, brushing a lock of dark hair back.
“I’m fine mom.” He took another bite of meat, chewing vigorously.
At the sight of his appetite, she relaxed. Connor set a tray on her lap and she jumped. She couldn’t look away from him until her stomach clutched in painful hunger. Finally she started eating.
Before she finished, Sean stood, stretching. “Ew. I stink. Need a shower.”
He headed for the end of the bed, then stopped, turning to face Connor. Her son nodded, gifting Connor with one of his delightful smiles, before leaving the room.
“What was that all about?” Connor asked, staring at the closed door.
“He likes you, I guess.”
Turning a heated gaze her way, Connor asked sarcastically, “You guess?”
“Aye.” She emptied another bag of blood before glancing at him once more. His eyes still burned, and his mouth twisted in a scowl.
“What?”
“What about his mother?”
She shrugged. “Perhaps she likes you a little too.” As the heat in his eyes burned brighter, full of desire and emotion, her heart skipped a beat.
Clumsily, she opened the last bag of blood and sipped at it to give herself an excuse to avoid his magnetic look, and time to think.
Connor crossed the distance, sitting on the edge of the bed. Too close.
Her hands shook so hard, the bag fell. Connor reached out, faster than a blink, and caught it. As he handed it back to her, he slid his palms over her fingers.
The electricity singing through her blood made her head spin. She wanted him.
Needed him.
But she couldn’t have him.
Her heart beat madly, full of the same emotion shining from his eyes.
Dare she call it love?
Nay.
It would only hurt all the more when she was forced to walk away.
Uneasy with her thoughts and the way her body instantly reacted to him, she jumped from the bed. “Sean was right. I need a shower too.”
Connor just raised a brow. “Go ahead.”
She looked at him, suspicious, as he rolled onto his back, hands behind his head, and began to whistle.
Edging into the bathroom, she locked the door behind her. She turned on the water, hot and steamy.
Naked, she stepped into the shower on still-shaky legs, her stomach quivering. Her emotions swirled.
Confusion. Desire.
Fear.
Her throat was hot, a lump making it hard to breathe. Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry yet again.
She was stronger than this.
For hundreds of years, she’d not shed a tear.
Why was Connor able to just walk in and touch her so deeply she felt everything she’d tried—and succeeded—in burying for so long?
The shower door clicked open and she stiffened. Before she could turn, his arms wrapped around her. His naked chest pressed to her back.
“I could feel your pain all the way in the other room. Tell me how to make it better?” he whispered hoarsely.
She knew he’d seen her scarred back, could feel them now as he pressed against her. It was embarrassing to have him see, but it was the hidden scars she feared the most. “You can’t.”
He tilted her head back onto his shoulder and kissed her temple. “I’d grab the moon for you, if it would make you happy. You’re killing me, darling.”
Warmth broke through her pain, his words, so full of honesty, made all the sweeter. But she closed her eyes against it all. “There’s nothing you can do. I’m... damaged.”
Connor bit her ear.
Shocked, she pulled from his grasp, spinning to stare at him. “What the hell?” She touched her ear, felt blood.
He advanced on her until her back pressed against the icy tiles. Then he growled. “You’ve called me an idiot more times than I can count. Now it’s my turn, you stubborn woman.”
She bristled, opening her mouth to speak, but he pressed his fingers over her lips.
“Now look, don’t give me any shit.”
She sank her teeth into his hand. He shouted, jerking back and shaking his bloody fingers.
“Ha,” she said.
His eyes flared, burning bright. Closing the distance between them, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the wall above her head. Then he kissed her.
She tasted his blood, and her own. Like an aphrodisiac, her body thrummed with desire. But he drew back and stared at her.
“The past is the past darling. It can only haunt us if you allow it.”
The fight went out of her and she slumped against the wall at her back. “Sometimes, it haunts us all on its own.”
“Then tell me what happened. Together, we’ll get past it.”
Fear rose, and all she wanted to do was run away, curl into a ball in some dark, hidden place until she could deal with all the different feelings bursting inside her.
But she’d faced Laroche down. Though Connor had the ability to do so much more damage than the demon ever had, she scraped her courage up and stared into his eyes.
“He beat me. You’ve seen the scars.” Taking a deep breath, she blurted out, “He made me his whore.”
He drew in a shaky breath, and his hands tightened on her wrists.
Her throat closed and her vision wavered from unshed tears as she tried to harden herself, prepare for Connor’s disgust before he turned away from her forever.
Once he left her, she’d try to pick up the pieces of herself, but she knew to her soul that she’d never be the same.
He let go of her hands as his warm breath caressed her ear. “If you ever say such a thing again, I will spank your ass until you can’t sit for a week.”
She jerked against him.
“Did you have sex with him willingly?” Connor asked gently.
She closed her eyes against the scorn he must feel. “According to him.”
He sighed. “You’re missing my point, darling.”
She went on, barely hearing his words. “I was drugged, and everyone said I did things... horrible, disgusting things...”
Her heart was about to jump from her chest. Why couldn’t he just get it over with and leave? Did he have to torture her first? She shivered, trembling.
His teeth sank into her ear again, but this time more softly. “Pay attention, idiot,” he said. “Enslaved, tortured, drugged, there’s only one word for it. Rape.”
She froze as his words sank in.
“You can’t be held responsible for what was done to you, and I can’t believe you’d think so little of me that I’d hate you for it.” His last words came out a deep, threatening growl.
She shivered at his anger, but knew to the depth
s of her heart he would never physically harm her. He was nothing like Laroche.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and met his red gaze.
“Idiot,” he whispered with a grin.
“But I’ve—”
“Nothing. The past is over. Today is here, and we’re here together.” He kissed her lightly, drawing her into his embrace.
The ball of pain and fear in her chest grew smaller.
He nipped at her pulse point, then rose, meeting her gaze. “You did nothing, darling, to ever be ashamed with. You have got to be the strongest person I know, to have survived hell, and come out the other side, protecting our son.”
Age-old chains of shame loosened from the weight of his words. His eyes shone with the truth of his feelings, the depth of his love for her, and for Sean.
“You’re one hell of a woman. I haven’t been there for you,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “But I swear, I will love you, and make you so happy, the memories of those dark days will fade. If you’ll let me.”
Though uncertainty still lingered, she realized what it truly was. Not just fear, but the shame that had been with her since escaping Laroche’s dungeon so long ago.
But here, with Connor, she could ignore it, for he saw her as brave, not despoiled.
And he wanted her still.
Loved her still.
Her chest expanded with the heat of the love and passion she felt for him.
Uncertainty flickered in his eyes.
She leaned forward, kissing him softly as she whispered, “Promise?”
He smiled. “Aye, my love. I do.”
* * *
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Magicstorm
Heart of a Vampire, Book 4
Amber Kallyn
When a mortal cop must delve into the paranormal, only a Viking vampire can save her soul, and her heart.
Detective Celeste Wilder knows who she is, a damn fine cop. But when the recently dubbed ‘Cult Murders’ start back up, this time targeting city prostitutes she’s sworn to protect, she’s thrown into a world of paranormal creatures she never believed existed. And now, they’re out to keep her from uncovering even more secrets.