Exes and Exorcisms

by Keira Blackwood

  She’d say it to my face.

  And I wouldn’t have smothered her the way I had done, trying to hold her too tight, afraid she would leave or get hurt. Loving someone as wild and free as Kelly had brought out the overprotective side of me. And I knew now that if we weren’t partners, both wanting the same things out of our relationship and respecting each other’s needs, we could never have anything lasting.

  We were different, and we were meant for each other.

  I just had to tell her, and listen if she told me no.

  I wrapped my bleeding arm, then met with Kelson. I shared a meal with him at his insistence before driving back to Forbidden. I would tell Kelly that I loved her, that she was my mate, even if she didn’t feel I was hers. And I’d have to do it in a way that didn’t make her feel like I was pushing.

  Patience, space. She needed me to respect whatever boundaries she built, and take it when she pushed me away. That was how we’d stop from repeating the same mistakes. I was ready. I hoped she was, too.

  It was on the drive back that cell reception improved and my phone dinged with an unheard voicemail. It was from Kelly.

  She said I was in danger, and she warned me about the nest I was walking into. I didn’t know where she’d gotten her intel, but it didn’t matter. The job was over.

  Also, it wasn’t her words or the warning that struck me. It was the sound of her voice, the fear she’d felt over my safety.

  It meant she cared. It meant I had a chance.

  I tried to call her back, but she didn’t pick up. I wasn’t sure what kind of message to leave her. I’m okay. I love you. So I hung up. This conversation would be best had face-to-face, anyway.

  The drive took a few hours, putting me back in Forbidden before dinner.

  When I parked in front of Forbidden Fangs, my palms were damp and my limbs charged with nervous energy. Everything was going to be fine.

  As I opened the door, the scent of male shifter hit me like a punch to the gut. It was the same guy from before, the one who had been here with Kelly when I’d first arrived. The one who’d gotten me in trouble with his alpha, though to be fair, that was at least partly on me. I spotted the bastard straight away, sitting in one of the tattoo chairs with his shirt off. If I remembered correctly, his name was Joe—a boring name, and thinking so had nothing to do with the shot of hatred that surged up through my fists.

  “Are you sure you meant to put that line there?” Joe asked.

  “There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in the world,” Kelly said, quoting our favorite movie. “It would be a pity to damage yours.”

  “You are so weird,” Joe said. “And not making me feel any better about that line.”

  Kelly chuckled and kept at her work, neither of the happy pair paying me any mind. I could be a dick about it. I could go over there and make sure Joe understood that Kelly was my mate, and she was off-limits. But I wouldn’t.

  I clenched my fists and took a seat by the big window. I tried not to stare at her or her long legs. I’d always loved the way she looked in a skirt, and this one was particularly short, or at least it seemed to be with the way it was riding up while she sat on her stool.

  “Hey, Xavier,” Kelly said, without looking up.

  Her voice was colder with me than it was with him. I hated it. Clearly we were picking up where we’d left off. Why didn’t she care if I stayed or went? Was she pushing me away because our relationship had gotten too real and she was afraid? Or did she truly not care?

  “Hey,” I said back.

  After she finished with Joe and we were alone, I’d tell her how I felt. And I’d accept whatever she said in return.

  I leaned my head back and bumped a vase that was resting on the sill. It tipped and started to fall. Before it could crash and break, I whipped around in my seat and caught it. Something green and floppy slid halfway out of the top of the vase before I could right it. Were those...veins? Was that a—

  Kelly practically leapt across the room. “Don’t touch that!”

  The contents of the vase slid out a little farther. It was a very large, green and spiked dildo. It looked like some kind of alien wang. But it wasn’t the dick in the vase that bothered me. It was the glow of familiar magic that surrounded it—a banishing spell. I was only familiar with it because Clyde had come across one, once—something his ex-wife had tried to hit him with.

  Kelly yanked the dildo from the vase and pulled it to her chest. “You can’t go digging in other people’s things. Private things.”

  If I’d thought her tone was cold before, now it was fire. Her eyes were wide and cold, her stance guarded. And I had my answer.

  I was hurt and pissed and ready to tell her that I loved her, while all the while she was planning on banishing me. Instead of telling her exactly what I thought about her behavior, I clenched my fists, shoved out of the chair, and I left with a whisper. “As you wish.”

  12

  KELLY

  I finished Joe’s ink, then wiped his skin with a cleaning cloth. He was already healing—one of the perks of being a shifter.

  “Are you doing okay?” Joe asked, putting on his shirt and pulling his long sleeves back down.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “You should probably go. We’ll settle up later.”

  Joe gave me a frightened look. “Are you wanting to bite me?”

  “I want to bite everything right now,” I said.

  “I do owe you some blood,” he said.

  I didn’t want his blood. Or I did, but my temper was so bad, I worried I’d take too much. I was certain there were limits to what even shifters could handle, and I didn’t want to find those limits today. “Just go, okay?”

  He pulled on his jacket and gave me a sympathetic look. “Give me a call when you want the blood.”

  Cold air washed into the parlor as he opened the door and left.

  Alone again. I wondered where Xavier had gotten off to, but I told myself I didn’t care.

  A soft mrowr brought my attention to my feet. His Lordship must have come into the shop when Joe opened the door. He stared up at me, his yellow eyes showing nothing but affection...adoration?

  “What is wrong with you?” I asked, picking him up.

  His purr reminded me of the rumble of a motorcycle, and he placed a paw on my shoulder like he was hugging me back.

  This was not right. Displays of affection were beneath His Lordship’s station. He existed to be adored.

  Feeling a little icked out by this suddenly affectionate version of His Lordship, I set him down on the floor. He proceeded to twine about my ankles, purring.

  “Who are you, and what have you done with His Lordship?” I murmured.

  My gaze landed on the vase on the window sill. I’d since moved the dildo back into its box and shoved it into one of the file cabinets. I shouldn’t have yelled at Xavier. But if the tip touched his head, he’d be a goner. Maybe I shouldn’t have even gotten the dildo to begin with. True, he shouldn’t be touching all of my things, and I didn’t know what would happen to him if he accidentally came into contact with the banishing dildo and I hadn’t had a chance to say the magic words. Would the spell fail? Or would something worse happen to him?

  But I hadn’t wanted to hurt Xavier.

  Hell. I owed the man an apology.

  I went upstairs to get a quick drink from one of the blood bags in my fridge. It wasn’t satisfying, but it would keep me from ripping out the jugular of the first person to look at me sideways.

  Not bothering with a sweater, I left the tattoo parlor. Xavier’s car was still parked by the curb, meaning he’d left on foot. He couldn’t have gone far.

  I followed his scent of cedar and citrus down the sidewalk, and around the corner onto Main Street, past a florist and a bakery, until I reached The Watering Hole and the scents of greasy burgers and fries overpowered the orange and wood.

  His scent didn’t go past this point. Yeah, that sounded about right. Xav
ier always did prefer to eat his feelings. Typical shapeshifter. I’d hated it when I was human, because if I tried to eat my feelings with him, I gained what felt like twenty pounds overnight, and he didn’t seem affected by the food in the slightest.

  Now I just wished food sounded good to me at all.

  I pulled open the door to The Watering Hole.

  It was Cupid’s wet dream. Pink and red streamers dangled in loops from the ceiling, and cupid decals lined the walls. A large sign declared Couples Night and everywhere I looked, couples were canoodling and generally behaving terribly. There were way too many public displays of affection happening in this building. It had reached maximum capacity.

  Even the servers and bartenders were paired up, walking together everywhere.

  Disgusting.

  One person was not matched up with anyone else, and that was the person I sought. Xavier sat at the bar, a pint glass half full of beer in his hand. As I made my way across the dining room, the double team of bartenders dropped a plate of fries in front of him, followed by a giant cheeseburger. I watched while Xavier lifted the burger and took a large bite. He chewed slowly, then his throat moved as he swallowed.

  I salivated. Not because of the burger, but because of the tanned expanse of his throat.

  I couldn’t believe what my life had come to. I wanted this man for his blood and for his body.

  He didn’t look up when I sat next to him, which told me he’d known all along I was here.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  He choked on his bite, and I patted his back automatically.

  “What was that?” he said. “I must have heard you wrong. Or no...the demon’s back, and he’s possessed you this time.”

  “Shut up,” I said. “I’m trying to be nice to you.” I wasn’t sorry for getting the banishing spell. It had made sense at the time—not only was he my bossy ex, but he was a vampire hunter, and, well, I was a vampire. But I was sorry for snapping at him, and for hiding things from him. So I simply let my apology stand.

  “Well, fine, I guess,” he said.

  “That’s not how we accept apologies, Xavier.”

  His eyes darkened and he looked me over. “I’m not ready to accept an apology. I need to cool off.”

  The dreamy notes of “At Last,” sung by Etta James, came through the jukebox. We used to croon this in the car at the tops of our lungs whenever we went on dates. I looked at Xavier. “You could cool off...or you could dance with me.”

  He pulled his plate closer. “I’m not dancing.”

  “Come on,” I said, standing and holding out my hand. “It’s our song.”

  “Hardly.”

  “Dude, dance with your girl!” a man called from the closest table. His partner nodded in encouragement. “Don’t leave her hanging, it’s couples night!”

  Attracted by the hollers from that table, several other couples looked up from their meals, or from where they danced near the jukebox. “Let’s go! Your woman wants to dance, then bring her over!”

  Waving at the people who’d called out, I started swaying my hips in time to the music. “Come on, farm boy,” I said. “Dance with me.”

  He rolled his eyes, but I wasn’t imagining the heat in his gaze when he focused on me again. “As you wish.”

  His tone was different from what it had been when he’d stormed out of the tattoo parlor. Anger still lingered in his expression, along with hurt.

  His hand was warm on my lower back as he led me over to the jukebox. The other dancing couples nodded in encouragement and made room for us. Xavier wrapped his arms around me and tugged me close. He was all heat and muscle. He was a much better dancer than me, but it didn’t matter for this slow song, because all I had to do was lean into him and sway.

  “You piss me off so much,” he murmured in my ear.

  “I believe I can say the same about you,” I said, sliding my arms over his shoulders.

  “Why do you have to be so infuriating? I’m trying to be the man you need, but you’re making it extremely difficult.”

  “Yes, well, you’re difficult too, sir.”

  “I just want to throw you over my shoulder, carry you back to your apartment, and—”

  He stopped abruptly, and I raised my eyebrows at him. “Well, don’t stop the narrative on my account,” I said. “It was just getting good.”

  He froze and stared intently into my eyes. “Kelly.”

  “Xavier.”

  Around us, the other couples continued swaying. One pair was full-on snogging on the dance floor, tongues tangling and hands groping.

  “Take me home,” I whispered.

  “As you fucking wish,” he said.

  We passed the bar, and he dropped some cash next to his plate. Then he grabbed my hand and we were out the door into the cool night.

  We paused when we reached the door to the tattoo parlor. His hands skimmed over my body, warm through my clothes, causing desire to flicker inside of me, white-hot. I couldn’t unlock the door to the shop fast enough, but somehow I managed before my body spontaneously combusted.

  We were through the door, and I locked it up behind us. Partway up the stairs, he grabbed both my wrists and slammed my hands against the wall above my head. He pressed his pelvis into mine and I felt the rigid length of his cock against my lower stomach.

  “Kelly,” he growled.

  “Xavier.” I was helpless in his arms. Not even my vampiric strength could get me out of this bind. The miracle was, though, that I didn’t want to escape. There was no better place than being trapped between a hard wall and the hard body of Xavier Breene. “You always have to be in charge, don’t you?” I said.

  “You love it.”

  Too right, I did.

  Holding my wrists with one hand, he used his other to tease my thigh just beneath the hem of my skirt. His touch was scorching and he slid his fingertips slowly up. He found the tops of my thigh-high stockings.

  “I fucking love your lingerie,” he said. “You always did have the sexiest underwear.”

  He wasn’t wrong. I was a creature of comfort and luxury. When I had on nice knickers, I felt good.

  With his knee, he spread my thighs apart. I whimpered, an involuntary sound that seemed foreign coming from my mouth. When was the last time I’d felt so needy and out of control?

  Probably the last time I’d slept with Xavier.

  He sneaked a finger into the edge of my panties and touched me, and I moaned. “Xavier.”

  “So wet for me,” he said.

  I nodded. “Kiss me.”

  He did, his lips stealing moans of pleasure from my mouth, his tongue sliding along with mine, avoiding the sharp tips of my fangs. His hand left my pussy and I heard the telltale snap and zip of his pants opening.

  We weren’t even halfway up the stairs, and I didn’t care. Peter wouldn’t come down. His Lordship was elsewhere and wouldn’t be interrupting us with an ill-timed attack.

  Xavier’s cock was free, and it pressed against my stomach. Xavier yanked up my skirt and ripped off my panties.

  “Hey, I liked that pair,” I said as the lacy fabric fell to the floor.

  “I’ll buy you new ones.”

  He kissed me again, effectively shutting off my indignation over the ripped knickers, and then his tip was sliding against my folds.

  “You want this?” he asked, pulling out of the kiss to look into my face.

  I met his beautiful green eyes with my own. “Yes,” I whispered.

  And then he was inside of me, filling me the way only he could. This was why, despite all of our horrid communication problems, we had remained together for so long. It was because we were so bloody good together in the sack. Or, apparently, on the stairs.

  “Kelly,” he groaned as he began moving in me with long, sure strokes that lit me up from inside.

  Then his mouth was on mine again. The kiss and the lovemaking carried me, pulling me up the mountain of bliss. My orgasm built with every touch, every s
troke. My eyes were closed, but Xavier said, “Look at me.”

  His gaze was intent on mine, full of desire and something very much like love. Still? I wondered. After all this time?

  But it was as if five years hadn’t passed at all. Our bodies knew—our hearts knew—what our minds denied.

  I couldn’t help my fangs slipping out between my lips. His pulse called to me. I wanted him in every way, even if it was the one thing I knew I couldn’t have.

  “Bite me,” he said, his voice deep.

  I didn’t hesitate. I sank my teeth into his shoulder as he thrust inside of me. His blood gave me life while his body moved with mine.

  Every stroke of his cock pressed against my clit and soon I was coming, falling over the edge. I cried out at the overload of pleasure, and he froze within me, pulsing as he found his own release.

  I licked the bite mark on his neck, helping the wounds heal.

  Xavier pressed his forehead against mine. “Kelly. Fuck. Please tell me we can do that again and again.”

  As a practical person, I knew better than to say no. I wanted to do that again and again—and I wanted to do it with him.

  “Come to bed with me,” I said.

  He let go of my wrists, rubbing along my arms. We made the bare minimum attempts to clothe ourselves again, then he threw me over his shoulder and carried me the rest of the way up the stairs to my apartment.

  I WOKE UP HOURS LATER, pleasantly sore and exhausted. Three orgasms will do that to a girl. Xavier was fast asleep, and the world around my apartment was silent. What had woken me?

  A melody filled my mind.

  Shit.

  A vision was beginning. I bolted out of bed and ran to the bathroom, where I closed and locked the door. The last thing I wanted was Xavier waking up to witness me dancing and singing an oldies song.

  While I spun around the bathroom, humming “Fortune Teller,” a vision played in front of my eyes.

  I was kissing Xavier in the vision, and I was the one on top of him, pinning his hands over his head. That was a vision I could get behind. We were in my bed, and he was letting me lead, calling me a goddess.