by Caris Roane
Slipping off her robe, she climbed into bed. She rarely slept in a nightgown and saw no need to wear one now. Besides, she was pretty sure Connor wouldn’t mind at all.
She pulled the sheet up high enough to cover her breasts, then turned on her side. She set her gaze on her garden, enjoying the beauty she could see easily at night because of her alter vision.
As the shower drummed, what she didn’t understand was what she was supposed to do with Connor. Part of her wanted to keep him tied up in her bedroom for a really long time. Another part thought she would be wise to cut her losses and run.
All this flurry of sexual craving and now satisfaction still didn’t mean she could have a real relationship with him. She’d felt him during the first few minutes of being with him on Sentinel Bridge. He had a darkness in his soul, and she had no idea why. Something had happened in his past, an event that had turned him inside out and probably something beyond the way he’d been ushered into an altered state.
Her concerns, however, wouldn’t be eased in one night. Fatigue from all she’d been through began having an effect. She breathed deeply and sleep curled through her mind.
The night had been unbelievable on every possible front, but her stomach was full, she’d had extraordinary sex with the man of her dreams, and now she needed rest. She closed her eyes and began drifting off.
She woke up just enough to feel Connor slide into bed beside her. Without thinking and maybe because she was half asleep, she scooted close to him. He was on his back and when he lifted his arm, she planted herself firmly against his side, as she had earlier on the grass. She rested an arm on his abdomen and angled a knee over his muscular thighs.
The heat of his body had an effect and she disappeared into her dreams.
When she woke up, the afternoon desert light was on the wane, the early March air cool. Connor was lying on his side and still asleep when she slid from bed.
She pulled a flowered dress from her closet, something she preferred to wear when she rose and well before she got ready for TPS duty. She enjoyed her down time first thing at night. Collecting the rest of her things, she shut the door quietly behind her.
She used the bathroom to get dressed, to apply a little mascara then a brow pencil to make her arched eyebrows behave. A touch of lip gloss and she was ready to go.
When she reentered the hall, she didn’t head to the living area but to the second bedroom in her house, the one that served as her library. She opened the door and went first to the white basinet in the corner draped with a lavender and green handmade quilt that her mother had made just for Anna. A long skirt of gathered white eyelet and lace covered the entire body and base of the basinet.
For a moment, she was drawn back to the events that had brought her to Five Bridges. She’d been at a college graduation party for one of Violet’s friends since she knew the family well. They had a private home in north Scottsdale not far from a local high-end resort, but a long distance away from Five Bridges. Her husband had been out of town on business. She’d felt perfectly safe.
But afterward, while walking down the hill to her car, they’d been abducted by several Elegance warlocks and shot up with flame drugs each bearing the additional witch alter serum.
By the time she woke up in the trunk of an unknown car, she no longer felt like herself. Her body had already started the irreversible process. Six months pregnant, she started cramping badly. She was also deep inside Five Bridges; she’d been trafficked.
Labor had begun almost immediately and she’d held her stomach in agony, her heart shattering at the same time. Babies never survived the alter. Fetuses could often tolerate harsh levels of the various flame drugs, but not the alter serum itself.
She’d called Violet’s name, but she’d been alone, her head angled painfully on top of a smelly spare tire. She’d had no idea where her younger sister had been taken.
When she began to bleed heavily, her abductors had abandoned her, tossing her onto the side of the road to die. Eliza, her wonderful witch mentor, had found her and taken her to an Elegance hospital. In that sense, she’d been fortunate.
Violet’s fate had been horrendous. From the time she’d been abducted, she’d been strung out on blood flame and used as a prostitute. For six weeks, Eliza had hunted for her and finally bought her from the low-life warlocks who’d been handling her.
Elegance Territory, like Crescent, had a dark soulless side. Iris had begun working for the Tribunal because it was the only public entity that had as its mission statement a goal to improve life in Five Bridges. She hoped one day she’d become a force for good, but she didn’t see much changing any time soon. There was simply too much evil in their world to have high expectations.
Once she’d buried her baby, Eliza had helped her come to terms with her altered state and the loss of her little girl, whom she’d named Anna. Eliza had recommended bringing some of her things from her normal life into Five Bridges. The basinet and baby quilt had been two of the things. Her bedroom furniture had been in her Phoenix home as well.
Saying good-bye to her husband had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. But she’d had no choice but to let him go. It was the only thing she could do given how changed she was. None of the five species were allowed to live anywhere but in the designated territories. And she wouldn’t have asked him to reside in Five Bridges for all the money in the world. He hadn’t put up much of a fight, but they’d both wept as much for the loss of their child as for their marriage.
Her parents had been overjoyed to learn she was alive and to see her again, yet devastated by the cruel turn of events. When she’d begun work as a TPS officer, she’d been given a passport and had been able to visit them a few times during the first year until Violet’s death. After that, she called once a year to give a report. But she’d let them go as well. It hurt them too much to know she was separated from them forever because she’d gone through the alter.
Her two brothers had grown up and married. Grandchildren were the order of the day. For her own sake, she needed her parents to forget the one remaining witch daughter who was living out her life in a constant horror show in Five Bridges. Iris could never go back to her former life and she’d never allow her family to visit her in her world.
She’d learned to embrace her witch life, however, and live it to the fullest. Part of that included grieving for Anna, even though she’d died ten years ago.
By long habit, Iris let her grief flow and to her surprise it didn’t feel quite as pressing as usual. She turned toward the doorway. Was it because of Connor?
She thought it might be. Despite the difficulties of the night before and no doubt more challenges tonight, his presence had reminded her of the good things life had to offer.
Turning away from the basinet, she could have sat down, paid some bills, checked her emails, but what she really wanted was a strong cup of coffee.
~ ~ ~
Connor sat on the end of Iris’s bed, staring at his fresh clothes in neat piles on the dresser to his left. He’d already shaved and showered and had come back to the bedroom to find his clothes laid out as well as his weapons. She’d also left a gun cleaning kit for him, which had made him smile. She owned a gun, so she knew. Before showering, he’d taken care of his Glock having fired it at Gary’s and several times earlier in the week.
He recalled when Iris had suggested he bring a couple of changes of clothes over and how right she’d been.
He’d thought the day’s sleep would have eased his head. Instead, he felt burdened all over again, maybe with guilt. Hell, probably.
He huffed another heavy sigh, probably for the tenth time. He put on clean, black leathers and his boots, another tank as well. He slid his reinforced belt through the loops and buckled. He checked his gun; it was good to go. But he wouldn’t clip it on until they were ready to head out.
Same with his short-sword, which was safe in its sheath. He hadn’t used it during his time with Iris so far. He hoped to he
ll he didn’t have to. Bullets were one thing. But when the fighting turned to blades, blood flowed. He was glad she wasn’t squeamish, but he hoped she didn’t have to prove herself tonight.
As he moved into the living area, he caught sight of Iris out in her garden and his frown deepened. She was sipping coffee and looked really perplexed. She then leaned over a spray of some kind of red flower and stroked the petals. Was it his imagination or did the flower bob as though there was a breeze when all the other plants remained static. Right. She was talking to her plants again and apparently they were answering.
She wore a flowery dress, snug at her narrow waist and flaring over her hips. A slight wind moved through the garden and lifted the hem of her dress, revealing long slender legs.
She wasn’t wearing a ponytail. Instead her dark brown hair hung almost to her waist. It was straight and gleamed in the twilight. All the species of Five Bridges preferred the night, a result of the alter drugs. Some could tolerate the early gray of dawn or twilight as Iris was now. Not vampires.
He pounded a fist against his chest a couple of times, trying to steel himself against his growing love for Iris. Once she knew the truth about him, she’d despise him. Which meant soon he’d have to tell her what he’d done, that he’d been involved in a witch massacre nine years ago. But he dreaded seeing the look on her face once she found out.
She’d never be able to be with him then, which was another layer of guilt. He should have confessed the truth last night, but all he’d wanted was to make love with her at least once.
Confession would end their stolen season as quickly as it had begun. He’d hinted about it, but he’d been unable to be specific. Even the thought of saying the words aloud, that he’d raped and killed women of her kind, twisted his gut into a knot.
His altered state had stripped him down to his bones. He had nothing to give Iris or any woman for that matter. He lived a loner’s existence, a night-hunting creature who had to get his blood-needs met on a regular basis, and who battled the drug infestation of their Five Bridges world. This was his life. And it wasn’t fit to be shared with a woman.
He debated telling her the truth right now because the more time he spent with her, the more he longed to have a life with her.
His decision arrived. He had to tell her. She would despise him, but it couldn’t be helped. Worse, she’d have to accept his continued presence in her life right now because he wasn’t about to leave her, not when some madman wanted her dead. His goal was simple, to do everything in his power to keep her safe.
He left the open French doors, moved into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. He prepared his speech.
But as he returned to the dining area, she’d started back to the house, walking along the green patch of grass. She waved and a smile lit up her face. She was glad to see him.
His breath got stuck somewhere between his lungs and his throat. “Oh, shit.” There it was again, desire raging through his body and attacking his heart. And worse, he loved her. He couldn’t deny it any longer.
He loved the witch, Iris Meldeere.
And he didn’t think he could tell her the truth, not now. Maybe, when they figured out who was hunting them and brought the man to justice. Yeah, maybe then.
“Good evening,” she said, moving across the threshold. “Sleep well?”
He nodded, but he knew he was scowling. He could feel his face pinched up. “Fine, thanks.” He took a sip of his coffee.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing much. Just worried about tonight.” Yeah, nothing much.
She shrugged, tilting her head. “Me, too. First, though, scrambled eggs and toast?”
His resolve shrank to nothing in the face of her simple suggestion. She’d ended their lovemaking with an offer of food and had begun the next night in the same way. He wasn’t sure a man needed much more than sex, food, and a woman he loved. “Eggs and toast would be great.”
She moved into the kitchen and washed her hands. The whirlwind returned. She hauled eggs, butter and bread out of the fridge, shutting the door with her foot as she moved swiftly away. When she started cracking eggs into a bowl, she called over her shoulder. “Turn the news on, would you? I want to know what’s being said about the bombing of Sentinel.”
“Will do.”
He found the remote next to the small flat screen that she kept across from the dining table.
He pressed the power button and, no surprise, a commercial came up first.
“Just mute it.”
He pressed the mute button and settled the remote on the table. He sat down, but had nothing to say, his guilt still dragging him down. The time to speak had passed and he let it go. For now.
He sipped his coffee instead, with one eye on the TV. When the news anchor returned, he watched for pictures of the bridge, but the focus appeared to be on a sex scandal involving an elementary school teacher who operated a porn site at night.
Iris remained busy in the kitchen. She occasionally glanced at the TV, but didn’t appear to want to make conversation. Maybe her thoughts were drawn inward as well.
~ ~ ~
Iris buttered the toast, then swirled the eggs in the hot pan now and then. She’d made triple her usual portion; Connor was a big man.
She’d awakened with something on her mind, but she didn’t know exactly how to frame it. Her thoughts from the time she’d risen from bed had been focused on one particular part of the lovemaking last night, when Connor had fed from her. It had been extremely erotic, one of the best sexual moments of her life. But that wasn’t what snagged her thoughts.
She tried to recall Connor’s exact words right after feeding. He’d said something about feeling ‘better than all right’. And he’d seemed so much more powerful. Even physically his muscles had looked pumped. She could only suppose it wasn’t normal for him since he’d seemed surprised by it.
When the eggs were done, she slid them onto a pair of stoneware plates then added the toast. She put a fork on each plate and had just started over to the table when it hit her, what was really on her mind. “Your energy, Connor. It merged with mine.”
She moved into the dining area and Connor, his mug to his lips, returned the cup to the table. “What? What are you talking about?”
She set the plates down, sliding one toward him. Glancing at the TV, she decided to shut it off completely. Apparently, the sex scandal was the only thing the news was going to focus on.
She sat down and forced herself to eat a few bites.
“You realize you’re holding me in suspense.”
She aimed her fork at his eggs. “Eat. Then I’ll tell you.”
“They smell wonderful, so I won’t argue with you.”
She glanced at him and saw the twisted smile on his lips. She felt it all over again, the raw attraction she felt for him. Suddenly, she was out of her seat, leaning toward him before she knew what she was doing. She caught his face in her hands and planted a kiss on his lips.
When she drew back, his brows rose. “What was that for?”
She shook her head as she resumed her seat. “Just wanted to.”
She focused on her meal once more, forcing herself to slow down because she kept wolfing her meal.
Connor finally reached over and grabbed her hand. “I need you to calm down. Your witch energy is riding my skin like a dirt bike going downhill.”
She lifted her brows and laughed. “That bad, huh?”
“Yes. I don’t know what it is, but I seem to be very sensitive to you.”
She settled her fork on her plate. “And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You’re not going to like this, Connor, but I think I need to enthrall you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Iris doubted Connor would go for it. After all, any citizen of Five Bridges brought under a witch’s thrall was completely vulnerable. And that included powerful vampires, who served as Border Patrol officers for Crescent Territory.
Connor set hi
s own fork down, then leaned back in his chair. He’d made good work of his scrambled eggs and toast. “Okay, why? And what’s this about our energies merging?”
At least he hadn’t refused her outright. “Because we have an unusual connection and we need to explore it. I think it means something, but I’m not sure what. Do you recall how you felt right after you fed from me? Can you describe it?”
He shook his head, his gaze scattering for a moment. She let him process.
Even as she waited, Iris knew instinctively she’d wandered into dangerous territory, and that wasn’t the witch in her talking, but her female intuition.
Setting aside Connor’s male gorgeousness and that he’d given her the best sex of her life the night before, she knew something was off with him and not because he was a vampire. He’d suffered in some way that had shattered him deep inside, maybe when he first went through the alter.
He was a broken, damaged man and all the spells in the world couldn’t fix that. Only Connor could reach into his own soul and perform the healing he needed. But like most men, she doubted he had a clue where to start, even if he wanted to.
Despite all that, the vampire had a pull on her she’d never experienced in her life. He was tall, strong and rugged looking. Some vampires, like those addicted to any of the numerous flame drugs, eventually started looking like their movie brethren with extremely pale skin and almost skeletal bodies. They were hard to look at, especially if they flashed some fang.
But Connor was a different animal, and her heart beat hard as she waited for his answer.
As for her enthrallment powers, these were mostly a matter of long-term training by her witch elder, a good-hearted woman named Eliza who lived a very secluded life at the cul-de-sac end of Iris’s street. She had a full acre to her name and Iris had gotten many cuttings, tubers, and full grown plants from the woman when she’d begun creating her own spell-support garden.
Eliza had trained her to focus inward on her heart, the source of desire, then to want to bring the object of her thrall under her control. For whatever reason, Iris had found the process simple and exhilarating. The latter reaction, however, had warned her to be very careful when and how she employed this ability. The spell at Big Nuts’s place was a perfect example.
