Geoffrey’s eyes met his. “Maeve isn’t done with us. She’s going after Elizabeth. You want Elizabeth in your life. The kids need her in Spokane. The paranormal world will need to be explained to her, preferably before Maeve holds a dagger to her throat. And I have a need to find information in my files in a more efficient way.”
And if anyone had the money to employ a specialist full-time, it was Geoffrey. Alex nodded. “So, we bring her back her vehicle, tire fixed, and you offer her a job.”
“Spring break is next week,” Kalyss offered. “We’re doing day camps at the dojo. We could keep at least a few of the kids busy and safe while she works.”
Alex thought through their obstacles and options and nodded. “Then that just leaves figuring out how to survive when Maeve comes to call.”
Geoffrey shrugged. “Make sure that when she shows up, I’m here.”
Alex grinned slightly. “I appreciate the offer, but somehow, I don’t think the answer will be that easy.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because Maeve’s much more powerful than her son. In my dream, she took out everyone at once.”
Vampire movies and TV shows were lies, all of them. Every single one she’d watched in the past few months was full of shit. A centuries-old demon couldn’t regain all of her strength in an instant after sucking the blood from a human. It took longer than that, no matter how powerful the creature.
Maeve held out one unsteady hand, reaching for the vanity in front of her. Candles lit her chamber, casting a soft glow around a room full of the dark, vibrant colors she preferred. Easing to the stool, she faced the mirror.
It had taken an achingly long time for her cells to re-hydrate, her flesh to fill out, and her hair to darken to its natural bloodred color. Hours of painstaking effort. Weeks of Dugan reading to her from books and newspapers, stories from both realms so she could catch up on much of what she’d missed. So much time had passed, so many changes had struck the world and she’d missed it all. Nearly one thousand years. The world had left her behind.
After her flesh had filled, her eyes were able to adjust and she’d begun to read for herself. Not just read, but watch movies and TV and learn the Internet, devouring every bit of information as fast as her starved brain would allow. But no matter what she’d been able to absorb, one crucial piece of information eluded her. Who had interfered with her curse and trapped her in the tunnels?
Bitterness and helpless fury twisted her mouth, her thin red lips a mockery of the lush, tempting flesh they’d once been. Dugan, of course, told her how beautiful she was, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew how she’d changed.
Maeve reached for the rough, uncut emerald that lay like a hunk of meteor rock on the table before her, channeling her fury and power into it. There wasn’t much she could do with the overwhelming bursts of emotion now, but with time, she’d be able to wield them like the most deadly of weapons.
Dugan had informed her that Dreux had broken her curse, awakening her, but he couldn’t show her how. Who had helped the bastard? And what had happened to her son? Kai was missing and her most valued emerald, the one she’d poured centuries of power into, had disappeared with him. Dugan had attempted to answer these questions during the months of her weakness, but soon … soon she’d do the searching herself.
First find who had interfered and trapped her, see the extent of their resources, and decide how to avenge herself. Then she could search for her emerald. With it, she would be powerful enough to face anyone. Punish anyone. From there, she could return to her original plan for her son and his bastard half-brother. Dreux still had a few of his father’s sins to pay for, and once he did, she could regain the powerful status she’d had before.
Cloth whispered at the entrance of her chamber and Maeve watched through the mirror as Dugan appeared, the cowl of his cloak pushed back so his handsome face showed. She could tell immediately from his darkened eyes and the slight slump of his shoulders, that once again he had nothing for her. No clues, no leads.
How she hated to be disappointed.
Maeve saw her lips thin in the beginnings of a snarl and forced them into a smile of pleasure instead. His punishment would have to wait a bit longer. She needed him too much right now. She grabbed the emerald from her desk again and held it tight, the rough edges biting into her fingers. A haze of red fury filled her and she had to fight it back, channel it into the rock.
Dugan stilled behind her, noting her brief snarl. “I am sorry, Goddess. The vermin have hidden well.”
Slowly, seductively, she turned on the stool and crossed one shapely leg over the other until the royal purple of her satin negligee rose, exposing her thigh. Dugan’s eyes followed each movement and his tongue moistened his lips.
Leaning back, she allowed her bountiful breasts to push at the edges of her low, squared bodice. The matching robe, a sheer purple, slid down her shoulders, baring each creamy white slope to his worshipful gaze. “Then today is not the day. But don’t worry, the day will come, pet. Soon.”
Grasping the rough emerald tightly, she fed every surge of anger into it until the red haze lifted and she could focus on her gorgeous servant. Tall and muscular, only she could see him as he really was. The pride in his stance. The intelligence in his silvery eyes. The health in his long, thick, golden hair. His subservient attitude lulled everyone else into barely noticing him. But she knew the truth.
She’d never settled for anything less than beauty in her men. This was not to say they were perfect. She’d opted out of perfection long ago.
Rising to her feet, she used every ounce of control over her body she’d gained to glide toward him. It was a barely passable imitation of her former seductive walk, but it would do for now. Reaching for the ties that held his cloak closed at his throat, she loosened them and spoke softly in his ear.
“You know how to make it up to me.” Fisting her hand in his long hair, Maeve pulled his head lower until his silver-eyed gaze met the hunger in hers.
He smiled gently, lust brightening his eyes. “Anything you wish, Goddess.”
She’d once had a temple full of men like him. Men who worshipped her and fed her powers with their lusts until her skin glowed as white as the moon, her eyes as deep as one of her emeralds, and her hair as bright as fire. Of them all, Dugan was the one she’d most craved, then and now.
Opening his cloak further, Maeve could at last see the beaten gold-and-silver torque that surrounded his throat. At the center lay her large, square-cut emerald. Maeve pressed her smiling lips to the gem and inhaled slightly.
Jealous of her kiss, Dugan’s left hand gripped the thick curls at the back of her head, forcefully tilted her face up, and kissed her as passionately as she’d wanted all those months ago when she’d been too weak to handle it. Someone definitely needed to pay for that. A goddess of lust should never be too weak for great sex.
Dugan’s right hand spread across her back, pressing her against him. On cue, two long, black-furred limbs stretched from beneath his cloak, their sharp tips scraping up her sides, raising her negligee over her chest. Two more surrounded her hips, pressing dimples into the back of her thighs and lifting her from the ground.
Two more held her legs open, wrapping them around his waist, until she was exposed to the seventh limb’s sensual glide. The fur brushed against her sensitive skin until tingles shot from her groin to her breasts and she rubbed against him, moaning into his mouth. Another glide, then the spider’s eighth appendage guided his cock inside her. Hard and hot, he filled her just the way she wanted. Needed.
Maeve arched her hips, riding him, loving the rush of blood and hot liquid through her body. Strength flowed through her limbs and she moaned again, devouring his lips. With one hand, she opened his cloak further down his chest and stroked the spider’s black furred head.
Dugan moaned, a high-pitched purr mixing with the baritone of his voice. Holding her tighter, he used the spider’s appendages to angle her just right and po
unded one powerful thrust after another deep inside her core, trembling in her arms with the force of his devotion.
Maeve smiled, her lips curving against his. She knew his feelings and thoughts. Knew his mind. And oh, how he would hate her if his mind were ever free to remember all she’d forced him to do and become. Remembering her deception added spice to the moment. Tightening her grip, Maeve rode danger and death until he exploded inside her.
Elizabeth was just finishing the dishes when Shelly found her. The washer chugged and the dryer thumped in the background, insulating her from the various noises of the house settling in for the night. All she could think of was the confused and hurt look on Alex’s face when she’d pushed him away and told him to quit dreaming of her. She’d hated what she’d done, but it had been necessary.
Shelly poured herself a glass of milk and leaned against the counter. “So you sent him away?”
Elizabeth paused. Shelly was unpredictable. She could have any opinion imaginable. Unfortunately, she also had a knack for baring hidden truths that were uncomfortable to face. She rinsed out the dishrag and started wiping down the counters in swift, efficient motions. “Yeah.”
“Mom would call you an idiot,” Shelly stated.
It was true. If there was a pair of broad, male shoulders within a ten-mile radius, Dallas would find a way to lean on them. And the man who owned them would fall all over himself just to make her smile. “No doubt your grandma would, too.”
Shelly shrugged. “Yeah, but what do they know?”
Elizabeth smiled, relaxing. Shelly shared her opinions about her mom’s and sister’s boyfriends. Sending Alex away was a good decision. And it marked one more large difference between Elizabeth and the other women in her family. “Their way just isn’t my way. It’s possible to do things without leaning on a man. Look at how much Mom’s last boyfriend accomplished around here.”
Shelly snorted. “Yeah, the TV got a real workout. I understand. You made the right decision.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I think I did. It’s not a good thing to continually look to someone to save you. You have to learn to depend on yourself in tough situations. Who’s to guarantee getting involved with Alex wouldn’t have turned out to be the same kind of bad situation Mom and Dallas always land in?”
“I don’t know, he was pretty helpful tonight.” Shelly swallowed the last of her milk and went to rinse the glass. “Don’t you need to learn to accept help when you really need it? ‘Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face’ and all that?”
Elizabeth shook her head and turned to wipe off the table. “It’s true up to a point, but if you make accepting help a habit, you never learn your own strength. I think this family has the fortitude of giants. We just don’t use it.”
Shelly dried and put away the glass, her brows pursed in a thoughtful frown. “What if you’re wrong and we’re not that strong?”
Moving on to the highchair, Elizabeth shrugged. “You never know unless you try. It’s a cliché, also, but one that’s always true.”
Shelly grabbed the broom and dragged its bristles slowly but thoroughly across the floor, watching as dirt and bits of paper and food formed a pile. “Who decides when you’ve tried hard enough?”
Elizabeth studied her niece. “Right now, me. I decide.”
Shelly nodded. “And you made the right decision for you … but is it the right one for us?”
Chapter Five
By the time she’d cleaned up, washed more of the never-ending pile of clothes, and staggered upstairs, Elizabeth’s eyelids refused to stay open, her muscles ached, and her body dragged with fatigue. She wanted nothing more than to collapse in her own bed. Only her refusal to give in to her exhaustion helped her through brushing her teeth and showering before she yanked on panties and a T-shirt and fell on top of her unmade bed.
Making it had been a standard in the past, but when she had to stumble out of it at six in the morning and was unbelievably busy for the rest of the day, the bed became her least concern. Elizabeth closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to claim her; frustrated that she never seemed to accomplish anything more than existing each day.
But her mind started running, bouncing from one chore to the next. She had to buy a new tire and have it put on her car before she’d have a vehicle again. And the electric bill had arrived. Finally she was up to date and only had to pay one month’s worth. She’d emptied a large portion of her savings for that. And the water. And the back taxes.
They were about to lose the phone service. The plumbing needed to be redone. And several of the kids already needed new shoes, the ones she’d bought three months ago now too small. She sighed. Tomorrow was Saturday. She’d have them for nine days. She’d have to get them to help straighten up the house so Child Protective Services wouldn’t condemn it as unlivable. She was due for a “surprise” inspection any day now and it would be integral to keeping the kids together in one home, as one family.
Elizabeth punched her pillow into shape and closed her eyes. The look on Alex’s face when he’d first seen the house came back to haunt her. She was living a nightmare—one she’d tried to escape twelve years ago. But nightmares were never willing to release their victims. Hers had called her home and trapped her in dark dreams every night since.
Mama, why didn’t you tell me how bad it was years ago, so I could’ve sent the money up then? Come home sooner? But she knew why. Elizabeth had pulled away from her family. She’d gotten away and never looked back.
It was her own fault she was in this position. If she hadn’t run away and stayed away, maybe she could have helped Mary Beth sooner. Turned Bobby away from the path that led to prison. Kept Felicia away from drugs. Saved Dallas from men who didn’t want her kids.
Maybe … no. There was nothing Elizabeth could have done. Her mother had chosen alcohol and cigarettes long ago and nothing Elizabeth said or did changed her mind. As for her siblings, she’d grown up the same way they did, so the only difference between them was that Elizabeth had the determination and drive to reach for something better. But maybe they all had that too. They just couldn’t figure out a way to reach for it that didn’t involve something illegal, immoral, or both.
Elizabeth sighed and rearranged the blankets around her. She’d never understand her siblings, but she had no choice but to reach out to them. To save them so they could return to the children who needed them. Elizabeth needed to get them home one way or another, give them their kids, and keep close enough to them so that even after she returned to her high-paying job and organized life, things would never disintegrate this far again.
Maybe then she could try again with Alex. Just the thought made tears sting her eyes. Holding her breath, she fought the tide of emotion. No, not even then. There was too much danger, and things she couldn’t even begin to explain to him. He’d never understand. He’d never forgive her.
Her mind whirled to ever darker and more devastating thoughts until she finally drifted off to sleep.
“Aunt Lizzie?” a little voice whispered.
Elizabeth blinked one eye open. The clock had only moved ten minutes from the last time she’d seen it. With a sigh, she asked, “What is it, sweetie?”
“Brenda’s having bad dreams ’bout da spider.”
Elizabeth didn’t have to wonder who Brenda was, since Jessie held a ragged Barbie in front of her. With a husky, I-desperately-need-sleep voice, she whispered, “You know how to get rid of bad dreams?”
Jessie shook her head.
“You pray for God to take them away.”
Jessie nodded and her tiny shoulders slumped like she’d been brushed off. “Okay.”
Elizabeth pulled the covers back. “Come here, baby. We’ll pray together.”
Jessie crawled into the bed, snuggled her butt to Elizabeth’s stomach and held Brenda tight.
“Aunt Lizzie?” Elizabeth looked up to see Jessie’s twin, Sarah, and their cousin Abby. “Can we cuddle with you? We’re having bad dreams, too.”
Elizabeth smiled gently and held out a hand to help them climb up. She led the girls in the Lord’s Prayer, pausing and smiling after every line while they mimicked her.
Elizabeth covered them all, feeling the three little bodies snuggle close against her. Closing her eyes and breathing in the smell of clean babies, Elizabeth smiled. She should have felt uncomfortable, used to sleeping alone as she was, but somehow she didn’t. Instead, she felt part of the family. Elizabeth snuggled closer to them and found it easier to idly drift this time.
Her old room had become storage for every stray box and bin. Even with all the kids, it hadn’t been cleared out and claimed. But until four or five months ago, only Felicia’s three kids had lived here, and they’d fit nicely in the two rooms. Then Bobby had gotten arrested and his girlfriend had disappeared—adding the twin toddlers to Abby’s room. When Dallas’s last relationship had failed and she’d left her five kids with Mom while she found a new situation to settle into, the rooms had begun to burst at the seams.
Then Mary Beth had gotten sick and Elizabeth was still spinning, trying to make sense of everything. So, for now, her old room lay like a forgotten tomb, dark and musty with the door perpetually closed. It somehow seemed worse this way.
She could change it, though. With just a few bucks, she could paint the walls a shade of pink or lavender or blue or yellow. Then small white shelves, hung here and there, cluttered with as many of the girls’ stuffed animals as possible. Their dollhouse could fit in the tiny corner where there was a built-in desk, the drawers holding all the accessories.
Elizabeth sank into sleep, dreaming of the room until she’d decorated it perfectly. The walls were painted and bordered. A rug with matching colors was placed in the center of the room over the hardwood floors. A precious bunk bed she’d seen in a magazine graced one wall, with a slide instead of a stair coming from the top bed. A third loft bed with a playhouse underneath and a princess canopy over the top ran adjacent to the bunk bed, opposite the outside windows where bright yellow sunshine spilled in.
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