by Sarah Piper
“Something is troubling you,” he said.
“It’s just… witches are known for our magic. For channeling that energy and manifesting it. So why do I always feel like magic is controlling me?” I walked over to the stone pedestal, tracing the grooved pentacle carved on the slab. “I used to come here as a teenager. Willingly come here. Now, it seems I just end up here. Usually when something bad is happening.”
Liam shook his head. “This is your place, Gray. You can access it any time you wish.”
“Not anymore.”
“You’ve suppressed your natural magic for many years. You’re just out of practice.”
I considered his words, trying not to fan the flames of hope kindling up inside me. If I could find a way to control it, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe I could reconnect with this place, get rid of that creepy black forest. Open myself up to the joy I used to feel with Calla, long before my magic turned dark.
“It’s a matter of stilling your mind,” Liam said. “You need to learn to be fully present, casting your mind here while you can still feel—and be in complete control of—your body on the physical plane.”
“So… meditation?”
“Some call it that, yes.”
It made sense. Calla was big on meditation, too. She used to say a quiet mind was a witch’s sharpest magical tool. I’d never fully understood that as a kid.
“Can you teach me?” I asked him.
Liam smiled, and the sight of it took my breath away. He really was beautiful, and not just physically. His otherworldly presence lent an almost imperceptible glow to him, a richness that radiated outward, drawing me in.
“I thought you didn’t want any part of your magic,” he teased.
“I’m not sure the universe is giving me a choice.”
At this, he turned serious, the arctic ice eyes brightening. “There is always a choice Gray. But if you don’t make it, others will do it for you. So…” He spread his hands before him like an invitation. “Who’s going to make your choices?”
“You’re doing great, Gray. See? This isn’t as foreign as you feared.”
I beamed, inhaling the fresh lavender- and lilac-scented air around me. Liam and I had only been practicing for an hour, but already I felt the transformation inside me. I was reconnecting with my magic place, and our bond manifested here, too, in the crisp spring air and the lushness of the meadow, blanketed with new growth.
The black forest around us had remained still and silent. It hadn’t encroached further, but it hadn’t retreated, either, and the path that led from my stone pedestal to the archway and the Shadowrealm beyond still beckoned.
Liam noticed me eyeing up the dark path. “That is just as much a part of you as the flowers and the grass, Gray. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can tap into the rest of your gifts.”
A shudder rippled through my body, and deep in my gut, an ember of magic ignited. I closed my eyes, neither resisting it nor encouraging it, and the ember sparked another, then another. Soon, it roiled and bubbled inside me, sending heat and electric tingles to my limbs.
“That’s it,” Liam said. “Welcome it. Connect with it. Bring it in to—”
“No!” I opened my eyes and sucked in air, forcing the embers to cool. I didn’t want that all-consuming feeling, that complete lack of control, the mysterious power that had compelled me to kill a vampire without remorse, to take Travis’s soul, to become someone I no longer recognized.
But even though the heat inside me had subsided, black vines crept over my feet again, pulling and tugging…
“You must not fear it,” Liam said, frustration edging his tone. “You must learn to control it. You must—”
“I’m not ready for all those musts.” I tore away from the vines, stomping them down again. “I just—”
A new sensation crept across my skin, cold and icy. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
“Someone’s here,” I whispered, narrowing my eyes and peering into the trees. I’d gotten used to the silvery eyes that lurked there, but this was different. This was wrong. “I can feel a presence. He’s watching me.”
Liam seemed unfazed. “You must learn to use your magic, Gray. Or Rest assured, it will be used against you.”
I nodded. He was right. I knew it intellectually. I felt it. But learning how to pop into my magical realm on command was very different from calling up that strange, dark power. Liam kept telling me it was my birthright, that it was a gift. But no matter how many ways I tried to look at it, all I saw was a curse.
“I want to accept this,” I said, clenching my fists to keep the fear at bay. Magic pulsed through me again, calling to the black vines at my feet. They twisted closer again, teasing me. “But I—”
A blur of black fur streaked across my vision, and then I was flat on my back.
It’d happened so fast, no more than a blink.
My chest heaved under its weight. The smell of rot and ruin clogged my nasal passages.
The beast was back.
No. Not like this.
If this unholy beast was going to tear me to shreds, so be it. But I wasn’t going out without a fight.
I slammed the heel of my hand into the bottom of its jaw, grabbing a fistful of matted chest fur with the other hand…
“Don’t move!”
“I’ll get it!”
Voices filtered in from some faraway place.
“Haley!” someone else shouted. “Don’t get near that thing!”
“Ronan, she’s awake.”
“Back off!”
My eyes snapped open at Ronan’s sharp voice, taking in the scene. I was back in my bedroom, covered in mud and sweat and grime, surrounded by four familiar faces.
Asher. Haley. Ronan. And Death—rather, Liam—solid in his new human form.
All eyes stared down at me.
And at the rotting black beast in my bed.
Forty
Gray
Liam struck first, leaping onto my bed and wrestling the beast to the floor.
I bolted upright, panting and trembling. My shirt was torn again, the bandages Ronan had patched me up with last night soaked through with fresh blood.
“Do what you need to do, demon,” Liam warned Ronan. “I can’t hold him much longer.”
Ronan placed his hands on the beast’s head, whispered some ancient incantation, and then the foul monster was gone, vanishing into nothingness. Liam got to his feet and dusted himself off, and then he was gone too, leaving the signature black feather in his wake.
“It’s the same thing I saw in my nightmare last night,” I said. “It attacked me again, but I tried to fight back this time. How did I… I… I brought it here?” I looked around my bedroom in disbelief. It was daylight now, probably late morning. How long had that beast been in my bedroom? What if it’d attacked one of the guys? Or Haley?
Ronan slumped onto the edge of my bed, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. I had no idea when he’d gotten back, or where he’d been, but it was obvious he hadn’t slept. “It wasn’t attacking you, Gray. It was protecting you.”
Haley came around the other side of my bed, inspecting my torn, blood shirt. “This isn’t protection, Ronan. It’s mutilation.”
Ronan’s jaw ticked. “They’re not the most conscientious creatures.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Protecting me from what?”
“From whom, more likely,” he said. “If you’re encountering these creatures in your magical realm, someone is there that shouldn’t be.”
I rubbed my arms, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched. It still lingered, even here in my bedroom, far away from my magical realm.
The beast had shown up right after I’d sensed that other presence. And now that I thought about it, it hadn’t actually attacked me; despite the sharp teeth and claws, all it had really done was pin me down, scraping up my skin in the process.
“But… What the hell is it?” I asked.<
br />
Ronan held my gaze for a beat, then glanced at Haley.
She seemed to get the hint.
“I should… probably go,” she said, looking from me to Ronan and back again. “I just dropped by to leave you some stuffed shells and to tell you that Norah and Reva left.”
“What do you mean, left?” I asked.
“I don’t know much—just whatever Norah said in her voicemail. I guess she’s worried about Reva, and she decided to get out of Dodge until things calm down here.”
“What about the coven?”
“We’re on our own.” Haley sighed. “What’s left of us, anyway. After we heard about Norah, a few of the others shipped off, too.”
So much for strength in numbers.
“I can’t really blame them,” she said. “It’s not safe here right now. I’m just not sure it’s much safer anywhere else.”
I reached for her hands, giving them a squeeze. “You can’t lose hope, Hay. You’re in charge of the hope in this operation, and you need to keep it going. For both of us. Okay?”
She gave me a soft smile and nodded.
“We’ll figure this out,” I said, pulling her in for a hug. “And thanks for the stuffed shells.”
“Anytime.” She started to head out, but Ash stopped her.
“You need a ride? I’ve got a few errands to run.”
Haley smiled. “That would be great.”
Asher glanced at me, our eyes locking. Memories of my late-night fantasy flashed in my mind, and I realized in that moment he probably knew. Probably sensed the brief surge of sexual energy when I—
“You okay?” he asked. “You were asleep for two days. Figured you needed it.”
I lowered my eyes, knowing the burn in my cheeks was a dead giveaway. “I’m good. Still tired, but I’ll live. Thanks for… holding down the fort.”
“Not a problem.” He knocked against the doorframe. “I’ll take Haley home, give you two a chance to, ah, catch up. Be back in a bit.”
After a quick shower to clean up the mud and change my gauze, I stripped and changed my sheets, then found Ronan in the living room, staring out the window.
“It's a hellhound,” he said as I approached, already knowing it’d be my first question. “They won’t bother you again. But you might want to avoid the magic realm—at least until you get a better grip on your power. I’m not sure who they’re protecting you from, and until we know, it’s probably best to steer clear.”
“I can’t always control it.”
“I know. But the hounds can’t be trusted. They aren’t after you, but they’re too dangerous, anyway.”
“Okay,” I said, trying to take it all in. “So that’s a hellhound, and that makes you what—the hellhound whisperer?"
I’d meant it as a joke, but when Ronan turned and met my gaze, there was absolutely no humor in his eyes.
In fact, if I didn’t know him better, I’d say he was… nervous. Not about the beast that I’d pulled from my realm. Not about the fact that Death had manifested as a human. Not about any of the other crazy shit going on in the Bay.
But about me. About us being alone. About whatever it was he needed to tell me.
“Something like that,” he said.
“So a hellhound is protecting me, and you’re…”
Holy. Shit.
My eyes widened, and I stumbled backward, dropping onto the couch. Every one of my memories of Ronan rearranged itself to make room for this new realization.
“You're a crossroads demon?"
The nervousness in his eyes changed to anger. “Are we really comparing freak flags now? Because last time I checked, you bring people back from the dead.”
The comment should’ve stung, especially coming from him, but I was too shocked to feel it.
“You're a crossroads demon,” I said again, more to myself than to him. I closed my eyes and dropped my head into my hands. I’d always known that Ronan was powerful, but I had no idea that he held the fate of souls in his hands.
When someone made a deal at the crossroads, it was an act of pure desperation. Crossroads deals were for the cursed and damned, for those who’d lost everything, for those who feared things so much worse than death.
No matter what the bargain, the payment was always the same—a soul, sold into demonic slavery, for eternity.
Crossroads demons kept watch over the damned, and at the end of the promised term—ten years, twenty, two—they brought in their hounds and collected, delivering the poor suckers straight to Hell.
No one fucked with them, because even without a deal, Crossroads demons still had the power to imprison your soul in Hell, even if your greatest offense was stepping on their toe and scuffing their shoe.
And for the last seven years, he’d been spending almost all of his time with me. Keeping watch over me.
It could only mean one thing.
I was part of someone’s deal. Some bargaining chip he’d been tasked with guarding until the time came to cash me in.
Fisting my damp hair, I opened my eyes and looked up at the man I considered my friend. The man I loved.
It was all a lie.
“This changes nothing, Gray." He stalked over to the couch, and I stood up to face him, jabbing my finger into his chest.
“It changes everything,” I said. “You lied to me. You—”
“I never lied to you. I never would. Gray, please.” He said my name on a sigh, reaching for my face, but suddenly I didn’t want his hands on me.
Channeling all of my rage, all of my anger, all of my sadness and desperation, I shoved him as hard as I could into the wall. I screamed until I had no voice, pounded on his chest with my fists so hard my hands ached, and still Ronan took it, immovable as a statue.
When I was all out of fire, I sagged against his chest, my knees buckling. Saying nothing, Ronan slid his hands into my hair and forced me to meet his eyes.
I saw his age then—his real age, not the human mask—hundreds of years of regret behind bottomless autumn-colored eyes that had seen so much pain. So much loss.
“You should have told me," I whispered, tears sliding down my cheeks.
He slid the pad of his thumb across my lips, making me ache. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to lose you."
“You can’t lose me. It’s your job not to lose me.”
“It was never that simple for me.”
“At least tell me why you're here. Tell me why you've been sent to me. Tell me…” I trailed off. I knew enough about crossroads demons to know that asking for further details about a deal would be pointless; even if Ronan wanted me to know, he physically couldn’t share the terms of the deal. It would obliterate him, banish him to non-existence.
“None of that matters, Gray.”
“Then what does? What matters? What are we—”
Ronan's mouth closed over mine, cutting me off with a kiss that I felt all the way to my toes. There was more—so much more he wasn’t telling me. Everything in me wanted to resist, wanted to turn my back on him and our friendship and everything I ever felt about him.
But no matter how upset I was, no matter how deceived I’d felt, his kiss told me more than his words ever could.
His kiss was a promise, and Ronan never made a promise he couldn't keep.
“You… you’re everything to me,” he breathed. “It never should’ve happened, but I’m just… I’m completely unraveling over you, and I don’t want to stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop, either.” I snaked my arms around his neck and pulled him close, closer, closer still. His tongue slid between my lips, devouring me with every stroke.
I was done waiting with bated breath, done with our to-be-continueds. I trailed my hands down the front of his chest, over the firm ridges of his abs, hooking my fingers into the waistband of his pants. I fumbled with his belt buckle, and he grabbed my pants, both of us yanking and tugging off clothes until we were finally free of all the layers that separated us.
I stood against the wall in front of him, naked and hot, my nipples hardening as he swept his gaze over me, drinking me in.
“You take my breath away,” he whispered. He waited only a beat before kissed me again, grabbing the backs of my thighs and lifting me up, guiding my legs around his hips. Ronan backed me up against the wall, the hot, velvet length of him pressing eagerly against my center.
I felt him hesitate.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I can’t get pregnant by anyone but a regular old human.” Calla had drilled all those lessons into me from a young age. And like all supernatural creatures, demons couldn’t catch or spread any human sicknesses, so that wasn’t going to be an issue either. “We don’t need a condom.”
Ronan kissed my shoulder, a smile curving his lips. “I know how it works, Gray. I just…” His expression turned serious again. “I need to know you’re okay with this.”
“I’m more than okay with this.” I arched against him, my core slippery with need. “Can’t you feel how much I want this?”
Ronan let out a soft groan, his eyes closing in sheer pleasure as he finally sank into me, so deep and delicious it made me tremble.
“Ronan,” I breathed, digging my fingers into his powerful shoulders as he rolled his hips, finding our perfect rhythm. The wall was cold and hard against my back, but everywhere our bodies touched, my skin burned for him, for this man, for this demon I loved with everything I had.
What we had… It had to be real. It had to be true.
Tears stung my eyes, and I pressed my mouth to his, kissing him fiercely. It was the kind of kiss to remember me by, the kind of kiss he’d look back on in a hundred years—two hundred, three—and still feel. Still want. Still dream about.
With one hand tight around my back, Ronan slid his other hand between us, fingers stroking my clit, setting off a chain reaction that started with his touch and radiated throughout my core. I wouldn’t last much longer, but no matter how hard I tried to prolong the inevitable, he felt too good, too perfect.
Seconds later I felt my body clench around him, and he growled, low and primal, burying himself inside me with a final perfect thrust as he came.
