Bewitched (Fated #1)
Page 22
She blinked and sucked a deep inhalation. “My time might best be served going over the journals while you guys are busy.” She chewed her lip. “They shouldn’t leave the mansion, though.”
“Then we’ll give you access to the house and library when we’re not here.” He glanced at his brothers for confirmation, receiving a nod of approval from both. “I’ll feel better knowing you’re locked up tight here and not alone, anyway. How’s that sound?”
“Okay.” She met his brothers’ eyes, one then the other, and offered a wan smile. “Maybe I can get a premonition off one of the books, too. I’ll start reading first thing tomorrow.”
Brady stroked his thumb across the back of her hand. “Are you spending the night?”
She cleared her throat, still refusing to look at him—a trick she’d mastered all damn day that was driving him to the brink. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”
“I want.” All the time, and he didn’t see that ever changing.
Riley rose to drive Fiona and Ceara home while Tristan cleaned up the dinner mess. Once Brady had reset the library thumbprint system to grant Kaida access anytime she wanted, he gave her an extra key to the mansion and the alarm code.
At the base of the stairs, she studied the key. “Are you certain it’s all right that—”
“Positive.” He skimmed his hand down the length of her ponytail, despising her melancholy mood. He had the distinct impression she was pulling away from him. At this point, he’d kill to have her blue gaze meet his. Just as he was about to request it, Tristan strode in and eyed them.
“Everything okay?” Neither answered, and he walked closer, attention dipping to the key in her palm. Understanding dawned over his features. “We trust you, Kaida.”
She jerked her focus to him, lips parting in surprise. “You hardly know me.”
“I know enough. Besides, if Brady trusts you, I do.” Tristan’s expression never changed, but something seemed to pass between him and Kaida that Brady couldn’t grasp. “You’re smart, beautiful, intuitive, and sincere. I think it’s time you started trusting yourself.”
A nod at Brady, and Tristan climbed the stairs, disappearing into his suite.
Kaida stared at his retreating form, then back at the key. “He’s right.”
“Look at me.” Brady cupped her cheeks, ready to beg. “Look at me, sweetheart.” When she finally did, he almost wept at the gutted hollowness in her eyes. “It’s going to be fine. I promise you.”
“We only have ten days before the next new moon. I don’t know what else to do. We’ve tried everything and...” She closed her eyes. Shook her head.
“Not everything.” He was beginning to suspect their task had more to do with the two of them than the group as a whole. Or perhaps one element was connected to the other. Regardless, he was bound and determined to figure it out. Her, him, the curse—all of it. The alternative was too horrible to contemplate. “I have faith in you.” In them.
He pressed his lips to her forehead and lingered a brief beat. “Come upstairs with me. Be with me tonight.”
A pause, and she nodded.
Leading her to his suite, he locked the door and went into the adjoining bathroom. He turned the knob to fill the square tub, checked the water temperature, and stripped out of his clothes. She was securing her ponytail up off her neck with a hair band when he turned around to face her.
He lit a couple candles on the vanity and switched off the overheads, illuminating the room in moonlight through the galley window.
“Can I?” He fingered the hem of her sweatshirt. At her murmur of consent, he slowly undressed her and encouraged her into the bath, following to sit behind. Water lapped around them while he cradled her between his thighs, cocooned her in his arms. “Better?”
“Yes, much.” She expelled a sigh that shook the heavens and rested the back of her head on his shoulder. “This feels good.”
He whole-heartedly agreed. There wasn’t a sensation on earth that could compare to holding her, having her soft skin in direct contact with his, or breathing in her familiar rosemary scent.
They relaxed in silence, hot water easing sore muscles and the dark room quieting their minds while she stroked his forearms idly with her fingertips. If they did this every evening for the rest of his life, it wouldn’t be enough.
“I talked to my sisters about what happened between us. Apparently, that glow we experienced was me sharing my magick with you.” She turned her head to look at him. “The way Fiona explained it, we had some kind of bonding episode.”
As she went into detail about trust and openness and what it all meant, he fell so in love with her, he couldn’t breathe. He thought he’d understood the concept before, had teetered on the verge with other women, had known he’d sunk waist-deep in it with her, but he’d been fooling himself.
What they had transgressed time, spanned distance, and eradicated the very definition of the word love. Gave it an entirely new meaning. If he allowed himself to look hard enough, dig deep enough, he’d known as a boy she was the other half of him. She’d somehow, some way, found him among the fray. And stayed. Kept coming back. In his dreams, his thoughts, and now, his every waking moment.
Her family’s history, his own, had forever been a weight on them both. He and his brothers had shied away from any form of true intimacy because the past proved the future wasn’t destined to be a happy one. The odds had been stacked against him and Kaida since before they’d even been conceived. Three-hundred years of misery had laid their path to one another.
And still, it didn’t matter. He loved her despite their chances.
“I didn’t know I was doing it, of course.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry if you think I violated your privacy. That wasn’t my intention. We should’ve talked about our circumstances before we—”
“Kaida, it would’ve changed nothing.” He brushed a wayward strand from her cheek. “I would’ve said yes either way. I knew you were planning on leaving and I’m not sorry for what we did together. I plan to keep making love to you until you board the ferry and return to your life. I went into this with my eyes wide open.”
He sighed, studying her. Somehow, he had to get his point across without making her feel like she was being cornered. The decision to stay or go was up to her. “The thing is, we can talk this into the ground, but I can’t stay away from you, even if that’s the wiser move. And you should have my opinion on the subject if you’re contemplating choices.”
Rubbing his thumb over her lush lower lip, he went for broke. “I want nothing more than for you to stick, to make a life here. Not just because you have a family who cares about you, or the friendship you’ve developed with my brothers, or even what’s building between us. I want you to do it for yourself. Be happy, not simply content. There are colleges on the mainland you can apply at or our high school on the island. I can figure out a position for you on the historical society if you like. Hell, work at your sister’s shop. I don’t care. The point is, you have options.”
Her gaze skimmed his face, and the longer she probed, the harder his heart pumped. It was difficult to tell her reaction since her features were blank and she seemed lost in thought, but he suspected he’d gotten through to her. Perhaps he’d just scratched the surface, yet it was a start. He’d done what he could for now. The rest would come over time. It was up to him to show her what he wanted, how good they could be together, and for her to decide what to do with the knowledge.
Finally, she looked away and resettled. “Fiona showed me a photo album earlier today. They kept tabs on me growing up. School pictures and stuff. There were some shots of me and my sisters when I was an infant before the adoption. Mara and my mother, too. I look like her,” she added quietly.
He cinched his arms tighter, unsure how to respond. Like her, he’d been pissed off at what they’d done to her and how easily they’d cast her aside. But the more intel he gained on the circumstances, the harder it was to dispute their intentions.
The Venatores had been hunting her kind for centuries, and had they been aware of her existence, she might not be here today. She was the final link in this fated chain. Erase her, and it wiped out any chance for breaking it.
Still, he couldn’t imagine what it had been like for her growing up. Thinking she was unwanted. Unloved. A freak, as she’d claimed. He hadn’t had the best upbringing, but he’d always had his brothers. No matter what, he could and would survive anything so long as they were beside him.
“At the risk of sounding like a psychiatrist, how did that make you feel?” If it were him, it would give him a measure of comfort to know they’d at least been thinking about him in his absence.
“Shocked at first.” She cupped a handful of bathwater and dripped it over his arms. “Confused, I suppose. I had this version of them in my head for so long, and everything I’m being told contradicts those impressions.” She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice quivered. “I hated them. It was easier than dealing with the truth or facing reality. I channeled all my frustration into hate. And I’m ashamed that while I resented them, they’d loved me. Missed me. Were trying to keep me close no matter how far the distance.”
And there was the crux of the issue. “You’re human, sweetheart. Granted, you have superpowers, but you’re still human. You have a right to every one of those emotions. But maybe it’s time to let go of that hate you erected to protect yourself and let in something else.”
“I’m trying,” she whispered, and he dropped the topic for now.
Kissing her temple, he spoke into her hair. “We’re going to turn into prunes if we stay in here much longer. Don’t want to move, though.”
She made that adorable humming noise in her throat. “I used to take long baths as a kid. When I was seventeen, my first-ever boyfriend broke up with me. In typical teenage angst, I bawled my eyes out in the tub.”
“His loss, my gain.”
Her smile was wistfully sad. “The experience left my emotions exposed. By the time I stopped crying, the entire contents of the bath were floating near the ceiling. I’d lost control. Scared out of my mind, I climbed out, but it was too late. Sixty gallons of water whooshed down and flooded the room.”
She shook her head. “It took every towel in the linen closet to clean up the deluge. Frantically I worked, sobbing, hoping like hell my parents didn’t hear me. And when I was done,” she breathed, “I stood in front of the mirror, naked, holding a bottle of sleeping pills the shrink had given me. The shrink they’d sent me to because I was having nightmares. But how was I supposed to tell him the reason was due to me coming into my powers when I didn’t even understand that myself?”
Sensing where this was going, he turned her sideways in his lap and held the side of her head, burying his hand in her hair. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t, Kaida.” The most unimaginable panic clawed his gut, and even looking into her amazing cerulean eyes, knowing she was right there with him, did nothing to stop the unfettered terror.
“I wasn’t depressed, but I contemplated swallowing every pill. I just wanted the anomalies to stop. Looking back on it, I still can’t label it as a suicide attempt.” She swallowed, biting her lip. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the heat of the water, yet her fingers were cold as she traced his jaw. “I didn’t want to die. I just wanted to quit being afraid all the time. In the end, I took one, hoping I’d get to see you when I fell asleep.”
Her voice cracked, and so did his ribcage. Wide. Damn. Open.
“Jesus, Kaida.” Shaking, he dropped his forehead to hers and slammed his lids shut. Grief blazed a white-hot path up his esophagus and fisted his airway. Lungs straining, eyes burning, he all but died as visions of a younger version of her swam to mind. How alone she’d been. How utterly frightened she must’ve felt. “I...damn it.”
She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and slid her fingers into his hair, causing him to shudder in an attempt not to lose it. “I didn’t tell you to make you upset. I need you to understand. Trusting you is easy. It’s second nature. But everyone else takes effort. There’s a lot for me to battle through before I get there.”
He said her name upwards of twenty times as they shared air, their lips brushing. Being filleted alive would hurt less than knowing she’d been in any kind of pain like the one she’d just described. The very thought of what could’ve happened if she’d gone through with it was an acid chaser to the serrated edge.
Screw curses or destiny. Forget fate and tasks. He never would’ve had her. Not on the island, in his home, wrapped in his arms, or more than a figment in his dreams. There never would’ve been a them.
“Every time I use my magick, each day I spend here with all of you, brings me a little closer to accepting my future and letting go of the past.” She kissed his cheeks, his brow, his mouth. “Open your eyes.”
It took effort, but he complied. And what he found stalled his lungs, accelerated his heartbeat, and blew his mind.
Ribbons of water swirled around their joined bodies. From the lip of the tub to just above his head, it moved in fluent motion in one long, unbroken stream. Between the ethereal blue of the darkened room to the way the rivulets caught flecks of candlelight, it was as if she’d parted an ocean and swaddled them in stars.
“I did dream of you that night,” she said, forcing his gaze from the wonder around him and back to her. “You settled the turmoil I’d been harboring without even knowing it. I may be able to do all this, but you have the true magick, Brady. You gave me a reason to keep going, keep dreaming, and after all these years, I can replace that terrible memory with this one. Erase fear and insert hope.”
Mercy. Nostrils flared and jaw clenched, he soughed for oxygen. Fruitless. She stole his breath even when she wasn’t trying. Again, his eyes stung, and her form wavered through a sheen of tears.
“I love you.” Tilting his head, he kissed her, deep and with everything he had left in him. And it didn’t seem like enough. “Ready to hear it or not, I love you.”
The water anomaly rained back into the tub.
He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Pulling the drain, he lifted her from the tub and, dripping wet, carried her into the bedroom. He laid her out on the sheets and followed her down, blanketing her body with his.
Keeping their mouths fused in a tug-of-war between sweet and desperate, he skimmed his hands down her sides and back up, loving her soft, damp skin and the way she arched into his touch. She was always so endearingly responsive. Her eyes. Her smile. Her voice. True to nature, she sought for purchase, fingers everywhere and eliciting a groan from him.
She rolled him to his back and straddled him, kissing her way across his jaw. His stubble against her lips rasped a decibel below the sound of her breathing in her path to his throat. He shoved his hands in her hair, releasing the knot, and her caramel strands drifted around them like a curtain. Drowned him in her scent. Shut out the rest of the world.
Needing more contact, he palmed her breasts, experimented with the heavy weight of them, and her rosy nipples beaded in response. He groaned again and his hands descended south, past her taut belly to her mound, only to find her slick with arousal. He was more than ready for her and his shaft throbbed in anticipation.
They’d had the safety talk since their first time and she was on the pill, but he asked anyway. “Do you want me to—”
“No.” Rising over him, she took him in hand, then achingly slowly guided him into her body.
Hot, wet heat enveloped him, and he bowed. Nerves misfired and his heart jack-hammered and there wasn’t a solitary centimeter of him that didn’t feel the connection. Need encased his muscles in a vise. Grabbing her hips, he met her eyes and waited to be sure she was all right.
Nothing but passion looked back at him and he sat up, hugging her to his chest, crushing her breasts between them. Watching her, he thrust. Molten desire coiled in his bloodstream at her breathy whimper and the way she moved with him. Her hips jerked in time with his
as if ingrained instinct had laid a map for the destination.
“Brady.” Her lids fell to half-mast and her warm exhalation teased his mouth. “I love you, too.”
He didn’t know which would kill him first—her words or her body. Either way, he’d go out happy.
Chapter Twenty
In the Meath library, Kaida closed the last journal and stared at it on the table. All week she’d been reading through the passages, and it had been harder than she’d anticipated. She’d attempted to look at them with a professional, objective eye, tried to distance herself from the human element and view them as research, but that was impossible.
Her family’s past and the Meaths were intertwined in ways that read like a darker, more horrid version of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. From the first entry a week after Celeste Galloway’s death to pivotal moments spanning three-hundred years, it was heart-breaking and gutting to receive first-hand accounts, especially considering the point-of-view.
Righteous indignation. Bloodbaths. Hatred at its very core.
If not for Brady erecting a pillar of strength, she probably wouldn’t have been able to continue. He’d held her every night, soothed her tears, and never once showed the anger he had to have built inside over learning details about the entries.
Though she’d felt every death as if her own, had reeled at each vile word, she had gained insight and was able to verify certain facts. The most important being what the Venatores called the “witching blade.”
A month after he’d killed Celeste, Minister Gregory Meath had gathered wood leftover from her pyre and the iron manacles they’d used to bind her, then voyaged to an area now known as the outskirts of New Orleans. From there, he’d sought a blacksmith to forge a dagger out of the materials. Once complete, he’d taken it to a voodoo priest who’d enchanted the thing with dark magick.