“Also for healing,” I interrupt, turning the stone over in my palm. “For calm. Relieves tension and strain and can even soothe a hot temper.”
“It soothes and heals the mind,” she says as she slips it out of my hand and over my head. “And with your visions, I thought this was appropriate. I know they’re getting worse. I can feel the tension in you when you’ve had them. I want you to wear this, all the time, to keep you safe.”
“Thank you.” I brush my fingertips over the smooth stone, and then over hers. “So, you’re letting me hang out with you a lot.”
I tick items off on my fingers.
“You let me kiss you, you’re worried about me, and now you’re buying me gifts.”
“Do you have a point?” She raises a brow, but there’s humor in her gorgeous eyes.
“You love me.”
Surprise replaces the humor, and then she starts to raise that wall of defense she’s so good at when it comes to me. I frame her face in my hands.
“It’s okay that you love me, Daphne. And I’ll tell you why.”
She grips my wrists and watches me avidly.
“Because I love you so much it hurts. I feel like I’ve loved you all of my life. As if I were just waiting until I met you. And then those years without you were just plain torture. Living without you was way worse than surviving any war zone. I love you, and I’m never going to do anything so stupid that it drives a wedge between us again. I can’t promise to never make mistakes, but I can tell you that I’ll never walk away.”
She narrows those eyes and then sighs.
“I never stopped loving you, you big oaf. I wanted to. Trust me, I did. But I couldn’t. You’re meant for me. And for a while, that meant living through the pain of it. So, yeah, I love you. I bought you a protection pendant, didn’t I?”
“Yeah.” I kiss her nose. “You did.”
“Let’s not get all mushy about it.”
I laugh and lead her into her bathroom, turning on the bathwater and dropping in some bubbles.
“Fine, we won’t get mushy. But I’m telling you, here and now, that once you get naked, you’re not getting unnaked for the rest of the day.”
A slow smile spreads across her beautiful face.
“Deal. But first, I need this bath. Mostly because I have to shave my legs. It’s been a while. I’ve been busy.”
I laugh but shrug and leave her to her bath while I clean the kitchen. I can hear her splashing away in there, talking to herself. She hums for a while.
With the kitchen back to the way I found it, I walk into the bedroom and take off my shoes, then turn down the bed.
I’ve never been so nervous in my life.
I’ve had sex with this woman before—plenty of times. Hell, we were each other’s firsts, way back in the day. I knew her body better than I knew mine back then.
Knew.
That’s the keyword. Because it’s been a hell of a long time.
I’m down to my underwear when I hear footsteps behind me. I turn and just about swallow my tongue.
Standing there in the doorway is Daphne. Completely naked, aside from the pendant she never takes off.
Her long, curly red hair falls around her shoulders, and her brilliant dark eyes are glued to mine.
That gorgeous pale skin of hers looks soft from her bath, and my God, I fucking want her.
“Getting a little cold over here,” she says as goosebumps form over her skin.
“I can fix that.”
I scoop her up and tumble her into bed, rolling her beneath me as I kiss her like my life depends on it.
Because right this minute, it feels like it does.
Her nails scrape down my back, her legs skimming up mine and coming to rest over my hips.
It would be so easy to just slip right inside of her and take her.
But I’m not here for easy. Definitely not this time.
So, despite her delectable invitation, I slow down and slide my nose over the skin of her neck and up to her ear as I whisper, “You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
She smiles, and those hands tighten on my shoulders.
“But,” I continue, “we’re going slow here, sweets.”
“We can do slow later,” she offers. “Fast now, slow later.”
“Slow now, slow later.”
She narrows her eyes, and I laugh, then fasten my lips over one of her nipples. She sighs and shoves her fingers into my hair.
“See? It’s a good idea.”
“What about slow now, fast later, then slow later-later.”
My head comes up in surprise. “You’re trying to kill me.”
She giggles and then sighs again when my lips travel down to her navel. Her skin smells like lavender and lemon and feels like fucking heaven.
I’ve dreamed of her like this for years.
I never thought I’d be back here.
I lean my forehead against her belly, her hips in my hands, and simply stop to rest and take a breath.
“What’s wrong?” she asks and combs her fingers in my hair once more. God, she’s good at that.
“I just missed you,” I murmur and then look up at her. “I missed everything about you.”
She curls up, cups my cheek, and presses her lips to mine so sweetly it makes my heart ache. Her lips are soft and pliable, and when she moans in that light way she does, I press her back down and return to the task at hand.
Making her fucking crazy.
Chapter Thirteen
Daphne
Was it always this intense? Before, when we were so young and so ridiculously in love with each other, was it this intense when we made love?
Because this is way better than I remember.
Maybe it’s good that I don’t remember it being this way because it would have only pissed me off more.
I can’t stop combing my fingers through his soft hair. He presses a sweet kiss to my stomach, and the butterflies there go absolutely crazy.
The room is cool, thanks to a landlord that believes in a good air-conditioning unit, and Jack’s skin is warm against me, his mouth hot as he leaves open-mouthed kisses over my body.
I take a deep breath and let myself close my eyes and simply feel him. Enjoy how he makes me feel—so sexy and alive. My body hums with excitement, and my heart swells with more love than I knew was possible.
When he slides over me, links his hand with mine, and unites us, the lights flicker around us—just the way they used to before.
My eyes meet his as he smiles.
The lights get crazier as he picks up the tempo.
I bite his shoulder.
He growls in my ear.
And the world explodes around us in a wave of pure, wild lust.
“I think we broke the lightbulb in the bathroom,” I mutter, struggling to catch my breath.
“I’ll replace it,” he says before rolling over and pulling me with him. He tucks me against his chest. “In about ten years, when I can move again.”
“It’s crazy to me that we always made the lights do that.” I let my fingers drift up and down his hard, flat stomach. “I’m not able to do that any other time.”
“Me, either.” He kisses my forehead. “Are you hungry?”
I lift my head in surprise. “Are you hungry? I ate enough tacos earlier to feed Mexico.”
He smirks. “You always were a little dramatic.”
I narrow my eyes and pinch his side, making him yelp. “Why does everyone say that? I’m literally not dramatic.”
He laughs and pulls me against him, even when I try to half-heartedly fight him off—just out of principle.
“Right. You’re not dramatic. Okay.”
“You know what? You’re a smartass. No more blowjobs for you, ever again.”
“Okay, there’s no need to take it that far.”
I laugh when he rolls me onto my back and then sigh when he kisses my neck in that spot that makes my toes curl.
&
nbsp; “What do you say we make the lights flicker again?” he asks.
“I thought you were hungry.”
“I am.” His tongue traces the outside of my ear. “For you.”
* * *
I wake to the bed moving, and the blankets shifting. I crack one eye to see Jackson ease his way out of bed and have a spectacular view of his very fine ass.
“Just stay in bed.” I reach for him, but I miss and fall with my face in the mattress.
“You need coffee,” he says, grinning down at me in that very pleased way men do when they know they’ve spent the better part of the night before rocking your world. “And I know what your wrath feels like when you’re deprived of caffeine first thing in the morning.”
“Well, yeah, of course I need coffee. But I could use something else first.” I waggle my eyebrows and send him a come-hither look as I sit up and let the blankets fall to my hips, revealing my breasts.
Jackson always was a boob man.
He crawls back onto the bed, like a wolf stalking its prey, and kisses me like crazy. Suddenly, overpowering nausea moves through me from head to toe.
I push him away and hurry from the bed, grabbing my robe on the way from the bedroom to the front door and wrapping it around me.
“What’s going on?” Jackson asks as he runs behind me, but I can’t speak.
I have to get to the front stoop.
I yank open the door and gasp when I see that I’m right.
Another envelope.
“Damn it,” he mutters from behind me as I reach down for the photo. “I guess the fun and games are over.”
I sigh, and with the envelope gripped between my thumb and forefinger, walk into the living room.
“It was nice to forget for a little while,” I say with a sigh. “Thanks for giving me that.”
He sits next to me and takes my other hand. “Go ahead.”
I nod once and then pull the photo out of the envelope, feeling nausea roll through me once more.
“Oh, Goddess. I know him.”
“What?” Jackson takes the photo and examines it. “You know this man?”
“Yes. I mean, with the eyes gone, it’s hard to tell for sure, but I’m pretty sure that’s Caleb Browning. He’s part of the coven up in Baton Rouge. Jackson, I know him.”
“We have to call the others,” he says as he looks around frantically for his phone. He finally finds it in the bedroom, and I hear him talking as he pulls on some clothes. “Another picture. She says she knows him. A Caleb Browning? Yeah, we’d appreciate it. See you soon.”
He returns from the bedroom but veers into the kitchen to make some coffee.
“The timestamp,” I mutter, noticing it for the first time. “Jack, this one is just a few minutes after the other one—on the photo I found yesterday.”
“Cash is bringing it,” he informs me. They’re all on their way over.”
“I’d better get dressed.”
I take the offered mug of caffeine from Jack and walk into the bedroom, where I take just a moment to breathe. To remember last night and how wonderful I felt for those few hours when nothing mattered except the man I love.
It was glorious.
The rumpled bed is evidence of that.
I take a bolstering sip of the brew and then get dressed. I’ve just stepped out of the bedroom when the others file into my apartment.
“Well, good morning,” Millie says with a wink. She leans in to whisper in my ear. “There is so much sexual energy flying around this place, it might burn something.”
“It was a fun night,” I reply with a shrug and then laugh when my sister just grins at me.
“Let me see the photo,” Lucien demands, and I pass it over to him.
“You know Caleb better than I do,” I say as he examines it. “Am I wrong?”
“No.” His face is grim as he looks up at me. “You’re not wrong. This is him. I recognize the scar by his mouth.”
“The timestamp on it is just a few minutes after the one from yesterday,” I say as Cash steps forward with the other photo. “This afternoon.”
“Oh, God,” Lucien breathes. “This is Steph. She and Caleb are matched. They’re a couple.”
His eyes meet mine.
“No. Oh, Goddess, no. Why didn’t I show everyone the photo yesterday? I’m so stupid.”
“You didn’t know,” Brielle says and rubs big circles on my back.
“And we can’t change it,” Cash adds. “But maybe we can get to them before Horace kills them.”
“Do we know where they live?” Brielle asks.
“Honey, we can find out in a matter of seconds,” Cash says with a grin and starts tapping on his phone.
“Baton Rouge,” Lucien says, pacing the living room. Caleb and Lucien are friends. They’ve known each other for a long time. “They just moved in together. Into Steph’s house. I don’t know the address.”
“I’ve got it,” Cash announces. “Let’s move.”
“It’s more than an hour away,” Millie reminds us. “Shouldn’t we call in the local authorities?”
“If they’re going to kill themselves,” Cash says, “the authorities won’t listen to me. I’ve run up against nothing but a wall with them on this.”
It’s the longest drive of my life. Lucien’s been trying to call Caleb the entire trip, but the other man doesn’t answer.
Finally, we pull into a driveway, and all of us burst out of the car, hurrying up the front porch with Cash in the lead.
He bangs on the door. “Stephanie? Caleb? I need you to open this door. My name is Cash. I’m with the New Orleans PD, and I need to speak with you.”
More pounding, but no one answers.
“Fuck this,” Lucien growls. “Open the goddamn door.”
Cash breaks it open, and we rush inside, then stop cold at the scene before us.
“No one move,” Cash says quietly.
“Make it stop.” Caleb is systematically peeling off Stephanie’s skin. The woman is clearly already dead. He’s weeping, his face contorted in pain, his expression tortured. “Get him out of my head. I can’t stop. Oh, God.”
Lucien and Millie immediately start a spell, chanting together and holding hands. Jackson joins them. I don’t know how he knows the words, but he joins them.
Cash approaches Caleb and gently takes the knife away from the other man. There’s suddenly wind in the room, a scream, and then calm.
“I couldn’t stop,” Caleb says. “He was in my head, and he wouldn’t let go. He wouldn’t stop.”
He sits on the couch, his head in his hands, and continues weeping.
I rush to the kitchen and fill a glass with water, bringing it to him as I sit next to him.
The couch. It’s full of fun memories—making love and laughter. Watching TV shows together.
A proposal just a week ago.
Oh, Goddess, why?
“He made me,” he says through tears. “Said he didn’t like the tattoos. Her beautiful ink.”
He looks over to where the woman lies on the floor, surrounded by blood, missing half of her skin.
“Oh, God. I killed her.”
“Okay, Caleb, look at me.” Lucien squats in front of him and rests his hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t your fault. Horace used your body to hurt her. You didn’t do this. It wasn’t you.”
“It was my hands,” Caleb insists. “My hands did this to her. She was sweet and good, and she didn’t deserve to die like that.”
“No,” Lucien agrees. “She didn’t. I’m so sorry, my friend. But I’m telling you the truth. This isn’t your fault.”
“We’re going to destroy this fucker,” Jackson says, his voice hard as stone. “He’s going to suffer for this.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Caleb’s eyes are glassy now with shock. “Oh, God, it doesn’t matter. She’s gone. My girl is gone.”
He dissolves into tears once more. Cash is on the phone with the local authorities. Millie and Brielle
are talking softly nearby.
I don’t know what to do.
If only I’d shown that photo to Lucien, we might have been able to stop this.
It’s not Caleb’s fault at all.
It’s mine.
* * *
“I doubt he’ll be charged,” Cash says later when we’re all gathered at Millie and Lucien’s house. He looks as if he’s aged ten years just today alone. “I finally got through to someone in homicide who’s been following what’s been going on here. Thank Christ.”
“He’ll need some serious help,” I murmur and rub my face. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know how to make this right. I should have shown the photo to everyone yesterday. I was just so irritated and tired. And I was selfish. It’s that simple. And because I was, she’s dead, and Caleb will likely be traumatized for life.”
“You didn’t know,” Lucien says, his face full of grief. “You didn’t know, Daph.”
“I was selfish,” I repeat. “Oh, Goddess, I can’t imagine it. If he made me do that to Jackson, I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t survive it.”
“Stop.” Brielle’s voice is firm. “Stop it, Daphne. Beating yourself up over this isn’t helping anything or anyone. It isn’t going to solve anything. You didn’t mean to make the oversight. You don’t have a malicious bone in your body. No one blames you.”
I blame me.
But I stay quiet and lean into Jackson. Let him squeeze my hand.
“I think he’s going after coven members,” Lucien says thoughtfully and absently reaches over to pet Sanguine, Millie’s feline familiar. The calico stretches and purrs under Lucien’s hand. “I’ve done some research on the other two bodies we found. Both were members of a coven.”
“Did you know them?” I ask.
“No, I didn’t recognize them or their names. But they’re members of covens that ours sometimes partners with. Caleb and Steph came to help us in the bayou when we burned down Horace’s house.”
“Is that where you knew him from?” Jack asks me.
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