Sacrifice Me: The Complete Season One

by Sarra Cannon

  “I should have made you leave the second I saw you walk into my club,” he said. “I should have picked you up and taken you out myself.”

  My shoulders slumped against the mountain of pillows behind me. If it wasn’t for the way I felt when he was near me, I would have wished the same thing.

  But everything had changed with that kiss. I couldn’t wish him out of my life now if I tried.

  “Get some rest,” he said.

  Before I could protest any further, he was gone.

  Rip Me Apart

  I woke to the sound of rain falling against the window.

  But then, how could that be?

  I sat up in bed, making sure I was still in Rend’s house and that he hadn’t brought me back to my own campus apartment sometime in the night.

  The elegant white bedding was a dead giveaway. My comforter at home was five years old and well used. There was no accidentally mistaking the two.

  So how were there windows in the basement?

  I stood and made my way to the window, a bright light coming from outside. How long had I slept? It only felt like a few hours, but the light pouring through the glass was as bright as day.

  I must have taken my boots off at some point in the night and the wood floor was cool against my bare feet. I trembled as I watched snowflakes, not rain, pelt the window.

  I closed my eyes, thinking I must be stuck inside a dream.

  I opened them again, wider this time, unable to believe my own eyes. A winter wonderland stretched out before me for miles. A cliff dropped off just a few feet from the edge of the house and mountain peaks rose from the fog that stretched out across the distance. Snow swirled everywhere.

  I brought my hand to my mouth. I could hardly breathe.

  Toto, we are so not in Chicago anymore.

  I stepped back from the window. Where the hell was I? How was it possible that we had stepped through a doorway in the club in Chicago, come down a flight of stairs, and ended up on the edge of a mountain in the middle of nowhere?

  It was summer in Chicago. This just wasn’t possible.

  For a brief moment, I wondered if maybe I was looking into some kind of TV screen. An illusion to make me believe we weren’t underground.

  But it looked too real. What kind of trick was my mind playing on me?

  I looked around the room for a coat. I needed to see for myself. If it really was snowing outside, I couldn’t go out in nothing but some dance leotard. I’d freeze to death.

  My eyes landed on a white dress shirt thrown casually over the back of a large chair near the bed. I picked it up and breathed in the scent of him, my insides warming just from the thought of his kiss the night before.

  Okay, so the guy was strange and obviously not like any man I’d ever met before in my life. But there was no denying that the smallest thought of him turned me upside down.

  I slipped my arms inside the shirt. It was huge on me, but I loved the way it felt against my skin. I pulled it around me and headed for the bedroom door.

  I made my way down the hallway with just a fleeting look back toward the small hidden staircase he’d originally brought me down. I knew he had said to stay put, but I needed to see what was really going on outside.

  The main hallway opened up into a large landing with a wide wooden staircase. The banisters on either side were hand-carved, with ornate patterns. Everything looked antique and expensive and more beautiful than any house I’d ever stepped foot inside.

  I raced down the stairs to the heavy front door, taking in the marble-tiled entryway and the large chandelier that hung above it.

  I pulled the door open and stepped into another world.

  Freezing cold wind whipped around my face and bare legs.

  My feet sank into the newly fallen snow. I don’t know if it was shock or the leftovers of last night’s shot running through my veins, but I hardly felt affected by the cold at first.

  I stood with my arms stretched out, lifting my face to the sky. Soft snowflakes landed on my cheeks and melted in an instant, icy water sliding across my warm skin.

  I barely registered the sound of footsteps behind me before strong arms circled around my waist.

  I jumped and struggled for an instant, afraid Fallon had found me again. But it was Rend’s voice that rose above the growing wind.

  “I told you not to leave the bedroom,” he said.

  I couldn’t tell if he was angry or amused. Or both.

  I flipped around to face him, glad when he didn’t take his hands from my waist. “Did you really expect me to see a winter wonderland outside your window and not investigate?”

  “That’s not the point,” he said, his voice stern, but his dark eyes somehow lighter here in the snow.

  “How is this possible?” I asked, looking up at the white sky. “Where are we?”

  He pulled me closer and suddenly the snow felt freezing on my skin compared to the inviting warmth of his body against mine.

  “Italy,” he said with a slight twitch of his eyebrow.

  I shook my head, not able to make sense of this. Even with my feet buried in the snow, it didn’t feel like reality.

  “That’s impossible,” I said. “How is Italy in the basement of your club?”

  “It’s complicated.” He ran a warm finger across my cheek, brushing away the melted snowflakes.

  I shivered at the thought of all the things I had never known. All the things I still didn’t know.

  “You’re freezing,” he said. “Let’s get you inside before you turn into an icicle.”

  He didn’t ask my permission. He simply lifted me into his strong arms, carried me up the granite steps, and into the massive mansion on the cliff.

  Rend brought me into a living room off to the right of the grand staircase. He laid me gently across a large leather couch facing a magnificent stone fireplace that looked big enough to hold a family of four.

  He pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around my body, his eyes lingering on the unbuttoned shirt.

  “I see you made yourself right at home,” he said with a small hint of a smile.

  The blanket was soft like fur and I snuggled into it, my body shivering.

  “Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “I’ll have it dry cleaned.”

  He shook his head and turned toward the fireplace. “Keep it,” he said. “Seeing you in my shirt isn’t exactly an unpleasant sight.”

  The hint of admission of his attraction to me sent a wave of warmth between my legs and I squeezed them together under the blanket. I bit my lip as I watched him open a large wooden box beside the fireplace.

  He was still dressed in the same black suit he’d been wearing last night, but he’d taken off his tie and loosened the collar. I let my eyes travel over his body, devouring every inch of him, my mind imagining what he’d look like outside of those clothes.

  A contented moan escaped from my lips and he glanced back at me, his eyes narrowed. “What are you thinking about?”

  I hid my face behind the blanket. “Nothing,” I said. “This blanket is gorgeous. It’s so soft.”

  My attempt at distraction didn’t seem to work because he smiled and shook his head.

  I sank deeper into the couch, wishing I could disappear for a moment. I needed to get a handle on my own desires. I barely knew this guy. He was obviously part of a world I couldn’t even begin to understand.

  I forced my eyes away from his perfect silhouette and concentrated on the work he was doing in that wooden box. I assumed he was getting ready to build a fire, which meant the box was likely full of wood.

  I was learning that it was stupid to assume anything about this new world. Instead of wood, he pulled out a well-worn leather bag that cinched with a long cord at the top. In his other hand, he held a vial of golden liquid.

  Intrigued, I watched as he opened the bag just enough to put two fingers inside and grab a pinch of golden dust from it. He uttered words under his breath that I couldn�
�t understand, and then threw the dust into the fireplace. He quickly followed this by tossing the vial of liquid against the stone. The glass shattered and golden flames erupted from the fireplace, a wave of heat rushing toward me and blowing my hair around my face.

  The slight smell of sulfur lingered in the air for a moment, and then disappeared. The flames roared bright and strong, despite the absence of logs or any actual material to burn.

  My mouth fell open as I stared into the fire.

  “How did you do that? Is that magic?”

  “It’s a special kind of magic,” he said, placing the small leather bag back inside the wooden box. “My magic is a type of alchemy. Instead of using the force of magic within me to cast the spells like you did with the wind in my office the other day, I combine natural elements of the earth in ways that create magical effects. That way it doesn’t drain me the way you were drained the other day.”

  “Does that mean I could go into your little box and take those same two items and create the fire on my own without using magic?”

  He left the fire and came to sit next to me on the couch. I pulled my legs under my body and sat up, giving him room. Wanting him closer.

  “Yes, anyone could use them now and create the same effect,” he said. “The magical part is in the enchantments and the breaking down of the elements and materials in a way that brings out their natural magic. There’s pure magic inside every living thing and every element of nature. Most humans just can’t see it to appreciate its power.”

  Our eyes locked and my heart stopped beating for a long moment.

  What was going on with me? I had never felt so intensely attracted to someone in my life. It was terrifying, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t force my gaze away from his.

  I forced a breath instead, kick-starting my heart.

  “Are you going to tell me how we got from a club in Chicago to a mountaintop in Italy by walking through a doorway?” I asked. My voice was softer than I’d intended, but he simply took my breath away.

  He rested his arm across the length of the back of the couch, turning his body fully toward me. It took every ounce of self-control for me not to move closer to him. Instead, I clutched the blanket tighter in my fists.

  “That’s another type of magic,” he said. “Each doorway is a portal that leads to another place inside this world.”

  The way he said this world sent a shiver up my spine. He said it as if he meant there were other worlds besides this one, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to recognize that as a possibility.

  “So, if we walked back upstairs and went through the door again, we’d be back inside the club in Chicago?”

  He nodded, his eyes dipping for a moment to my lips. I felt self-conscious and vulnerable under his gaze.

  I wasn’t used to vulnerability. Being vulnerable meant being weak around someone. It meant trusting someone. And trust wasn’t something I gave easily, especially to strange men who could do things like create fire out of dust.

  I looked toward the flames as they danced and flickered. I could get lost inside a fire like that.

  “Are you doing okay?” he asked. “I know this has to be a lot to take in.”

  A laugh escaped from my mouth, and it came out as a half-sob, nearly choking me. I clamped my hand over my mouth, surprised by the emotion that seemed to pour out of me when I was around him.

  I turned my face away, not wanting him to even look at me. I had spent my whole life trying to hide who I was—what I was—and suddenly, I felt exposed. Raw.

  He moved closer and placed his hand on my shoulder. As much as I yearned for his touch, part of me also wanted to run away and forget the past week had ever happened. I had fought to control my emotions for so long, and keep everyone at arm’s length, that I couldn’t handle the thought of opening myself up to someone like this.

  But the warmth of his hand through the fabric of the shirt felt right. No matter how much my heart and mind rebelled against the desire of it, my body betrayed me.

  I closed my eyes, unable to pull myself away from him even though I knew I should.

  “Franki?”

  The sound of my name on his lips made my breath catch in my throat and I turned to him.

  His black eyes searched mine, and I was certain the desire there mirrored my own. And not just the desire. The fear, too. Was he afraid of this attraction, just as much as I was? Was that possible?

  It was hard to imagine a strong man like him being scared of anything, but I was sure I saw it there.

  I swallowed, my mouth dry from need and want. My mind pushed against the growing ache, begging me not to move one inch toward him. Not to give him permission to act on that desire.

  But I couldn’t listen to my mind right now. Reason faded to the background like a loud stereo being turned down suddenly, leaving nothing but the intense silence of need.

  With slow motion, almost unwillingly, I turned my shoulders slightly toward him, as if opening myself to him. And that was all it took, that one micro-movement.

  He leaned toward me, fear replaced by hunger.

  His hand slid behind my head, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled me toward him. I met him halfway, lifting up onto my knees. The soft blanket fell between us as our bodies collided, all hesitation defeated by the heat of the moment.

  His lips descended on mine, opening to take my mouth entirely, his teeth grazing against the soft skin of my lips. My palms pressed hard against his chest, sliding around to his back and exploring every ripple of muscle. Without thinking, my hands gathered his shirt into fists, pulling until it was free of his pants, giving me access to the warm skin underneath.

  He trembled as my fingers slipped up and under his shirt, touching the flushed heat of his skin. His mouth opened and his breath fell hot against my cheek as I ran my hands up and down his back, my mouth on his cheek and chin, the rough stubble abrasive against the soft skin of my face.

  His hand tensed against the back of my neck and he tugged on my hair, pulling my head back from him so he could claim my mouth for himself.

  Effortlessly, he lifted me from my knees, then pushed me fully back onto the cushions of the couch, his body heavy against mine.

  Finally, his hands left my face and neck and explored lower, my blood pulsing with need as his fingers dug into my thighs. I opened beneath him. My legs wrapped tight around him, drawing him closer.

  His mouth moved from my lips and he traveled lower. My head dipped back against the couch, giving him access to my neck. My nails dug into his shoulder, desperately wanting more.

  My breath came faster as I moved against him, cursing the clothing that kept us from fully knowing each other’s bodies.

  His teeth grazed against the sensitive spot just above my shoulder and he tensed, his entire form growing rigid against me. His hands gripped me so tightly the pain of it was almost ecstasy. Almost torture.

  Then, suddenly, he released me, moving up and off of me so fast, the absence of him was disorienting.

  I sat up, laboring for each breath as my heart pounded violently against my ribcage.

  “What?” I asked. Had I done something wrong? He was turned completely away from me, one fist resting against the stone mantle of the large fireplace.

  I stood to go to him, but he turned and the darkness in his eyes stunned me. Scared me. I stopped without taking another step, waiting for some kind of explanation.

  “We need to get changed and get back to the club,” he said. His entire demeanor and tone had changed, as if he had become another person in the space of ten seconds.

  I adjusted the borrowed shirt on my body, covering myself back up as best I could. “That’s all you have to say?”

  His face was hard edges, his expression closed off. “What more do you want from me?”

  I swallowed the hurt that threatened to rip me apart. I pushed back the desire that I had actually dared to let consume me. Instead, I invited in anger. I embraced it and let it fl
ow up through me, burning me like those golden flames.

  I knew how to be angry instead of hurt. I knew how to hide disappointment and pain. If he didn’t care to even acknowledge what had just happened between us, and if he could honestly turn his desire on and off like that, then I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me protest.

  I covered myself in I-don’t-care. It was a mask I had created for myself after years of living with a mother who had never loved me.

  “You’re right, it’s probably getting late,” I said, grateful when my voice sounded relaxed and indifferent. I was good at hiding my bitterness. “I need to get home and change before my shift tonight anyway. My roommate is probably worried sick. In fact, maybe it’s better if I take a few days off.”

  “No,” he said, the volume of his protest making me jump.

  I took a deep breath.

  Stay calm. Don’t let him see you upset. Don’t be vulnerable.

  “Why not?” I asked, meeting his gaze straight on as a challenge. “You said yourself you can’t keep me safe from the Devil. And if you can’t keep me safe, then why should I even bother working at Venom, anymore?”

  His jaw tensed. “You’ll be safer with me than out there alone.”

  I shook my head, sadness flushing through me. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  I turned on my heels and walked back toward the grand staircase, feeling his eyes on me the entire time. It was a miracle my knees didn’t give out on the way up. On the outside, I managed to hold myself together, but on the inside, my heart was aching. I cursed myself for caring about him this intensely. How had this happened so fast? I was usually more guarded than this. I should know better.

  I found my way down the hallway and through the hidden entrance to the narrow staircase. The stairs opened up to a small room at the top with five doorways. Crap. Which one? It ruined my cool and confident exit if I opened up some stupid closet door and tried to walk inside. I didn’t remember seeing four other doors in here last night, but the whole thing was kind of a blur.

  I bit my lip, my heart racing as I heard his footsteps on the stairs behind me.