by Ava Benton
“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for… eternity,” she whispered with a shaky laugh when we pulled away, both of us breathless.
“I’m willing to take a chance,” I whispered back before kissing her again.
Epilogue
Janna
“I swear to you, if you don’t stop moving around…”
“I’m not moving,” he insisted, shifting in his chair.
“You did it again, damn it!”
“I didn’t!”
“Oh, screw it already!” I tossed the charcoal aside and got up to stretch. “This is a waste of time. You’ve got the jitters today or something. What’s with you?”
“Sorry if I’m not in the mood to play statue today,” he grumbled as he got up and stretched his long legs before pacing the length of the loft I used as studio space.
“Maybe it’s time for me to find a new model,” I muttered.
“Maybe it is. Why don’t you ask Troy to do it for you?” he asked, referring to Isobel’s Nightwarden.
I raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. Not a bad idea. He’s an excellent physical specimen. The perfect artist’s model.”
Vale’s deep-throated growl reverberated through the room. “Watch it.”
“You suggested it. I wonder how much he’d be willing to take off for me…”
“I’m serious.”
“It was your idea! And it was a good one.” I burst out laughing as he tackled me to the floor. “Okay, okay! I give up!”
He pinned me by my wrists and smiled in triumph. “You won’t ask Mr. Adonis to take it all off for you?”
“I won’t ask Troy to pose for me. I won’t, I promise.”
He attacked my neck, kissing and nipping as I giggled helplessly.
“Hey, it’s not like you model naked, anyway.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want you turning any artistic corners,” he snorted, moving further south with his kisses.
I closed my eyes and let him light me up from the inside out, the way he had been doing for the eight months we had been living together in Isobel’s barn. More like a guest house, and roughly ten times the size of my old apartment. At least.
It gave us plenty of room for ourselves and lots of privacy when it mattered. We tended to keep to ourselves, in case the neighbors got curious. Not that her neighbors lived close enough to care, but we didn’t want to take chances.
All the more reason for us to spend time the way we were just then—working, playing, loving each other.
Later, as I pulled my clothes back on, I giggled softly. “We have a habit of doing that.”
“What? Having sex?” he laughed as he zipped his jeans.
“No. I mean, yes. But getting carried away at random times. That’s what I meant.” I stayed on the floor, propped up on my elbows. “Will it always be this way, do you think?”
“I hope so, or else the rest of eternity will get pretty damn boring,” he chuckled, running his hands through his hair to settle it down. When he saw my frown, he grew serious. “This is something you’re really worried about, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I guess so. I mean, you’ve been a vampire for hundreds of years. The concept of eternity is a lot fresher for me than it is for you.” I would be twenty-six forever. Forever and ever. I would see the world change drastically while I never changed at all. If I slept anymore, it would keep me up at night.
He knelt next to me. “I can’t see myself ever getting tired of you, or of us. If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I do worry about it. That I’ll bore you or annoy you after long enough.”
“Are you kidding? I learn something new about you every day. Sometimes, I wish you weren’t so damn interesting and a little more boring.”
“And you’re the one who likes to keep moving! Isobel’s going to have to start paying you for all the work you’ve done around the farm.”
“It’s the least I can do,” he reminded me, as he always did. “Meanwhile, you’re always working on something new. Putting together new shows at new galleries. Meeting buyers.”
“Ugh. Having to put in contacts,” I muttered, shivering.
I hated wearing the lenses that made my eyes look human again.
“It’s not a bad trade-off when you’re earning so much money for your work,” he reminded me. “Pretty soon, you’ll want to leave the farm, and we’ll end up running around all over the world when you’re a famous artist. Maybe you’ll get tired of me when that time comes.”
“Never. Not ever, ever.” I sat up, taking his hands. “I mean it. Nothing means anything without you. I wouldn’t want to be popular or successful if I didn’t have you to share it with.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I’m sure.”
“Absolutely?”
“Uh, yes. Why are you being so weird?”
He withdrew one of his hands and reached into the pocket of his jeans. “You wanted to know why I was so fidgety earlier,” he murmured, looking down.
“Yes…” I looked down in time to see him pull out a diamond ring. My mouth fell open.
“This is why. I didn’t know how you would react to this. And this is why I want to be sure you’re in this forever, because I know I am.”
I pulled my eyes from the ring—it was so big! So sparkly!—and looked at him. I couldn’t have loved him more if I tried.
“I’m in it for the long haul,” I whispered before tears choked me.
He slid the ring on my finger, and something seemed to slide into place when the band slid home.
The one missing piece in my life. I had a career, a mother who supported and encouraged me, and a love stronger than death itself. A love that had not just saved my life. It had given me life. It continued to give me life every day.
I held his face in my hands and kissed his forehead, nose, cheeks. “I love you,” I whispered before each kiss, like a mantra. I love you, I love you, I love you.
I was more than happy to keep it that way for the rest of my life—no matter how long it lasted.
Excerpt
Vanessa’s plagued with dreams of a gorgeous man with haunting eyes that saves her from the grasp of an enemy sorcerer. Until she realizes the man’s not a dream.
Gentry’s an outcast sorcerer strip of his powers, trying to figure out what he’s supposed to do with his life, until he starts having these dreams, where he’s saving a woman and he’s got his magic back.
And then one day, she walks into his life, and turns it upside down.
Chapter 1
Vanessa
It was always the same. Every night. I would go to bed telling myself it would be different, that I would sleep well, that nothing happening behind my eyelids was real.
It can’t hurt me.
But it felt real. I could taste the fear as it filled my mouth. I could smell my sweat—sour and pungent—as I waited for something to happen.
Anything.
Death or escape.
It didn’t matter to me at that point, after hearing what he wanted to do to me. After knowing how serious he was.
He wanted to hurt me. Make me scream in agony. Drain my power. Leave me dead. Not just dead, either. Torn to pieces, someplace public. I would be the crown jewel in his scheme. He had been waiting a long time for me.
It always came back, just as fresh and clear as if I were still there. In that terrible place that reeked of death and was always cold, always dark. Ruined. The way he wanted to ruin me.
I’d wake up with my heart racing fast enough to nauseate me. Drenched in cold sweat to the point where my sheets would be soaked in it.
I’d have to get up and change the bed before going back to sleep. Most of the time, I didn’t bother trying. What was the point when I would only revisit the same nightmare again and again?
It was the same one cold night in mid-October, when I wrapped myself in my silk robe and padded barefoot to the living room. The walk felt endless. Sometimes I thought abo
ut moving to another apartment, especially when I woke up in the middle of the night surrounded by nothing but space. Cold, empty space.
The city, stretching out beyond my window, was the same as ever. Only darker. I was sure there had to be a million stories out there, but nothing changed from where I stood.
I considered creating a thunderstorm to make things more interesting, but I might get in trouble for that. We weren’t supposed to affect the weather, even when we could.
Granted, I was the only witch I knew who was capable of controlling the elements, but it didn’t mean I got a free pass.
Wasn’t that what Mariya always told me?
I chuckled, shaking my head when I thought of her. As though I needed another nightmare to turn my attention to. But the only two people who’d ever dared tell me what to do were her and our mother, and I didn’t want to ruin an already bad mood by thinking about her. Not that Mother was all that bad anymore—ever since the kidnapping, she was clingier but less demanding. I could accept that.
The sound of footsteps wouldn’t have been welcome at any other time.
I liked my privacy, and I didn’t get a lot of it with Holden at my elbow all the time. Holden wasn’t even his real name—it was something ancient and Serbian, something practically unpronounceable to my New-York-born-and-bred tongue. He had invited me to call him Holden for short, only minutes after I woke him back in The Fold.
What a difference from my old life with Elias.
He frowned. “You’re having trouble sleeping again?”
I nodded. “I guess I don’t need to ask you that question.”
“It’s something I left behind a long time ago.” He looked out the window along with me, but left a healthy amount of space between us. “The same nightmare?”
“The same.”
I wished he didn’t know about it, but there wasn’t any going back from the night my screams sent him running to my room and kicking the door down, thinking someone was trying to kidnap me again.
He had no intention of letting what happened with Elias happen with him. I didn’t have a choice but to tell him about my dreams and let him know that he might hear screaming like that in the future—and he had ordered me to stop locking my door when I went to bed, so he wouldn’t have to kick it down again.
“Time will make it better.”
“That’s what you always say,” I murmured, turning my head to look at him. “But it’s been months.”
He frowned.
I shrugged. “Yes. I’ve been keeping track. And nothing. No change. The same nightmare, the same flashbacks. I can even smell those dead animals, all of them. It’s like being there all over again. He might as well come and take me every night.”
“He’s dead.”
“I know that.” I tapped the side of my head. “I know it here. While I’m awake. Once I close my eyes, it’s a different story. I can’t control it.”
“Have you considered…”
I held up my hand. “Please. Don’t.”
“Humans do it all the time.”
“What else does my mother have to say about this?” I folded my arms, glaring up at him.
In the old days, if Elias had even dared try to tell me what to do, I would’ve sliced him open with my tongue and liked it. I used to love telling him off, especially when I knew there wasn’t anything he could do to stop me.
“What makes you think I was speaking to your mother?” His dark eyes were nearly unreadable, but I didn’t need to read them. I could sense his uncertainty and guilt.
“There’s no reason why you should know how humans handle things like that,” I reminded him.
I couldn’t help smiling, even though it would only encourage him to go behind my back again.
“Listen. I know you want to help, and it bothers you to see me like this, but I’m not telling my problems to a human doctor. I don’t want one of them trying to get into my head. What happens if they ask what I do for a living? Or even how old I am? What if they do blood-work on me and find something out of the ordinary?”
“Of course. You’re absolutely correct. Although I wonder why a mental health doctor would need to draw blood.”
“Quit while you’re ahead,” I muttered as I turned away.
He snorted gently but went back to his room. I could relax a little when I was alone again.
It had helped to talk with him, even if he couldn’t give me any real advice. Having a conversation with a real, mostly-live person shook away the last shadows of the nightmare. For the time being.
I leaned against the window and wondered if I’d ever get a decent night’s sleep again.
She tilted her head from side to side as she looked me over. “You’re still not sleeping. You look terrible.”
“Thank you, Mother.” I shrugged into my robes with Holden’s help.
He was more solicitous than Elias.
I wondered if I would ever stop comparing them in my head. Maybe time would change that, too, just like it would eventually sweep away my nightmares.
“Did you speak to her about what we discussed?” she asked Holden.
I shot him a look to keep him quiet and glared at her.
“Yes. He did. And it’s a ridiculous idea. You know we can’t open ourselves up to prying doctors. We don’t go to them for help.”
“Except in case of an emergency.” She stroked my black hair with her heavily-ringed hand.
I rolled my eyes, but didn’t pull away, which I considered to be progress. “I don’t think this constitutes an emergency. An emergency would be getting split from sternum to groin and my guts spilling out. That’s an emergency.”
“Please. Don’t be disgusting, Vanessa.” She shuddered before raising her hood. “And don’t make the mistake of thinking this conversation is over.”
“Why would I do that?” I whispered as she floated away with her robes trailing behind her.
She was difficult enough to get through to before Mariya left, but in the months since she lost a daughter, Mother had doubled down when it came to protectiveness.
There was one area in which she had backed off, at least. She had learned how to attend a coven meeting without butting in and acting like she was still High Sorceress.
I remembered the days when she’d walk down the stairs with me, like she was the Regent or something. Guiding me until I was wise enough or strong enough to lead the coven. Undermining me. She had dropped that habit not long after I returned home and convinced her I was still in one piece, mentally.
The tricky part had been pretending Mariya and Elias were dead.
I walked down the stairs to the mansion’s lower level and greeted the rest of the coven.
It wasn’t my imagination: they all treated me with more deference than they used to. And that was saying something, because they had always stood down before me.
I was the High Sorceress. My word was law.
It didn’t hurt that they were all slightly terrified of me because I was so volatile in those days. I wasn’t proud of some of the stunts I had pulled.
Like deciding I would never step down as High Sorceress.
I picked up my candle and walked out to the garden.
I could hear the footsteps of my coven sisters behind me. We were all as solemn as the event called for, with the ripe, full moon shining down on us. I stood at the center of the circle they formed around me and looked up at that moon.
The words were second nature, the call-and-call-back ritual between me and my sisters. A ritual which had been passed down for centuries.
I didn’t have to think about what I chanted, which left me able to focus on the moon and the goddesses we worshipped and called upon for guidance.
I needed guidance at this moment. I needed it desperately.
Please, help me. If you’re up there and you can hear me, grant me assistance. I don’t know how much longer I can go on this way. Please, send me a way to heal from what happened to me. I’ve never felt like I
could share with anyone before. I could never let anybody see what was inside me. So, it’s hard for me to ask for help now. But I can ask you. I know I haven’t always served you as I should. I know I took advantage of the powers you gifted me. Please, accept my apologies and hear me now.
The chanting fell silent, and I realized it was because the ritual was over.
The full moon was still above me, and my coven sisters still stood around me in a candlelit circle.
“Vanessa…?” Mom whispered.
I could see wide, worried eyes under the other hoods.
I walked back inside and conducted the rest of the meeting in a sleep-deprived haze.
It was happening again. I was cold and half-naked and dirty, scared nearly to death. Wondering what sort of torture that damned, demented sorcerer Kristoff would put me through.
What did the ritual entail?
He wouldn’t tell me. It was more fun for me to guess. Just another level of torture, letting me imagine the terrible things he’d do once it was time to get the party started. His words.
Cold, emotionless eyes stared into mine, and no matter how I fought to close them I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop him from digging into my thoughts, my secrets.
He laughed about them, taunted me, teased and shamed and humiliated me.
I turned my head from side to side as his laughter drove into me like nails. A new nail for every icy peal from his foul, disgusting mouth.
I spat at him and cursed him, but that was at first. When I had the energy. When he hadn’t broken me down until all that was left for me to do was hang my head and wait for the inevitable.
I could hear his laughter echoing through the big, empty ballroom and bile threatened to project from my mouth as my skin crawled. When would it end? What had I done to deserve the torture, the shame?
When the doors crashed open, my head shot up out of sheer reflex.
Somebody had come for me. Yes, a tall, shadowy figure standing in the doorway, watching from across the room. But not for long. He flew to my side, throwing bolts of red and blue and white flame in all direction as Kristoff’s men tried to stop him.
