She sat down on the end of the bed, her face in her hands. The last time she saw Alessandro, he was hurt. Please, Goddess, let him be all right.
Holly licked her lips, tasting the dust of the chamber on her skin. It tasted bitter, like ashes.
He is coming for me.
As if conjured by her thoughts, Holly could feel Alessandro seeking her, intent on gathering her back under his protection. He was close. He no longer possessed her will, but the connection between them still burned. Oh, thank the Goddess. If he's coming, that means he is fine.
Holly didn't like to think she needed rescuing, but she sure wasn't going to object if he arrived with a map showing the exits. She doused the candles, releasing the wards and opening the door a crack. The torches, apparently as eternal as the stones they lit, burned with the same smoky glow as before. Slipping out of the room, she crept toward a junction of three corridors. He was somewhere near there.
But Holly didn't see Alessandro when she paused where the three paths crossed. She heard no sound of footfalls drawing near. And yet he seemed so close. Holly hurried across the junction to the corridor straight ahead, anxious not to be seen. That wolf was still too fresh in her mind.
She found him in the shadows, The Book of Lies cradled in his lap. He was slumped at the foot of the wall, sword in hand, bone-pale. Panic thrummed through her.
"Alessandro!" she whispered, kneeling at his side. She picked up his hand. It was heavy and cold. He came for me. He is bleeding to his final death, and still he came.
His head turned a fraction, his eyes opening to slits. "There you are," he said, as if she were something he had simply mislaid.
"I found a place. A safe place," she said, warming his hand in hers. "Come on; get up."
With painful slowness, Alessandro shifted the book and gathered himself to move, his boots scraping on the stone. Standing seemed to exhaust him, even with Holly's help. He leaned against the wall, a damp sheen glossing his skin.
Holly put an arm around him, helping him stand, and felt the sticky wetness on his side. Her heart hovered in her throat. "What do you need? Blood?"
He closed his eyes again, leaning his head against the stone. "No. I won't risk biting you. My mark on you is gone. The demon mark is gone. You're free. Leave it that way."
"You think you can take my will again," she said. "It's not going to be that easy."
"Holly, think. I'm not worth your freedom. No one is. Let me go."
"Like hell, Caravelli." Holly bit the inside of her lips, keeping them steady.
He said nothing, just gripped the wall as if that alone would keep him on his feet. His eyes were growing dark, the gold fading bit by bit.
How can I trust him? He used his power to save me, but he still made me his slave.
The answer surprised her. Because I have my magic. I can make doorways out of more than one kind of prison. I can take a myth and make it real in every way.
Holly turned in to him, rising on her toes. She pressed her lips against his, grabbing the energy from the stones around her and putting a rush of the Castle's power into the kiss, into the words she spoke. "So I Choose you, Alessandro Caravelli. With free will and sound mind, I want you above all others to be mine."
As she spoke, Holly felt a burst of energy between them, the very heat of her emotion. She was feeding him her love.
His cold lips suddenly flooded with warmth. He pushed away from the wall and folded his arms around her, deepening the kiss into a sensual act of devotion. "You Choose me?"
Holly grinned, unable to contain herself. "I wanted you long ago, but I didn't realize you were up for grabs. Otherwise I would have flung you over my shoulder and carted you off to my cave long ago."
"I was afraid of hurting you, and with good reason."
She stroked his face, her thumb tracing the arch of his mouth. "If you're my Chosen one, you can't mark me again."
"I don't need to. I don't need your blood. You'll feed me in other ways." His amber eyes were hot and greedy. "As I will feed you, cara."
He was standing straight, but Holly could tell he was far from healed. In her happy estimation, it was going to take a thorough session of lovemaking to set things to rights. She knelt and picked up his sword, passing him the hilt. "In that case, you look like you could use a good meal. You know, I have a rather nice place nearby. Shall I carry you off?"
She bent and retrieved The Book of Lies.
"I count on it." He sheathed the blade with a suggestive slither. Then, with unexpected speed, he swept her off her feet and into his arms. "But your love gives me strength. Tonight I am driving."
Holly conjured a fire in the fireplace, using magic to create heat from the power of the Castle itself. Alessandro filled a kettle from the waterfall and hung it over the fire. There were tiny cakes of hard, herb-scented soap, and plenty of towels. As the damp air warmed, they stripped off their filthy clothes and used the marble basin to wash.
First Holly bathed Alessandro's wound. The gash had finally ceased to bleed and closed with a slight push of magical energy. Then it was her turn. The ghoul bites had healed with magic, but she still wanted their slobber off her flesh.
Alessandro pressed Holly to him, his soap-slicked muscles hard against the sensitive flesh of her breasts. Hot and hungry, his mouth found hers, the faint taste of soap strangely exotic as they kissed, man and woman, with no marks but the oldest bonds of nature between them.
Soap swirled away as they used the chill waterfall to rinse. Holly caught his lip with her teeth, tugging. A pleased growl rose in his chest, the vibration tickling her skin. She shivered, part cold, part anticipation, and made him give a low, intimate chuckle. The sound turned Holly liquid inside.
Alessandro dried her face with the softest of the white towels they found, working his way down her arms and back, saving the most erogenous parts for last. It was a possessive ritual, a little rough in his eagerness to claim each toe and elbow with strokes of the thickly woven cloth. Holly closed her eyes, feeling the towel like a tongue on her flesh.
He pushed her down on the old, worn velvet of the seat closest to the fire, her damp skin sticking to the soft fabric as they moved. Alessandro's hair hung down his chest in dark, damp curls, water making glistening rivulets over his skin. So help her, Holly began to salivate. He leaned over to press his lips to the tip of her shoulder. He was warm now, but she still felt gooseflesh rise on her skin, driven by the desire rearing like madness in her blood.
He ran his tongue up her sensitive inner arm, his teeth resting lightly at the crook of her elbow. As he moved to look at her, his eyes flashed the yellow of the hunter poised above his prey.
A new chill took the air from her throat. "I thought I didn't tempt you that way anymore."
He kissed the skin, his fangs just denting the soft flesh. "I am what I am. I will never steal your will again, I do not need to consume your blood, but that does not mean I will never want to taste you. My venom cannot addict you now, but that doesn't mean it's not there for your pleasure."
His mouth fastened onto hers, his tongue demanding new secrets. The faint taste of fennel brought a welter of erotic associations. Her hands ran down his lean flanks, feeling the muscles tighten, feeling the hardening of flesh.
He was recovering nicely.
Holly's power stirred, humming against his, another layer of pleasant arousal. Her skin was beginning to burn with wanting, as if it had suddenly grown too small.
They slipped between the sheets of the bed, the smell of old lavender wafting from the linens. Grateful for the warmth of the covers, she snuggled close, letting him cherish her curves and hollows with slow delectation. She was wet with need, aching and greedy.
"I have waited hundreds of years to hold a woman like this," said Alessandro. "To make love for its own sake, without the struggle to keep myself in check. To make love with only pleasure in mind."
"Do you think you remember how?" she teased, feeling the press of him against her
thigh.
"I am old, not senile," he said acidly, but his smile was wanton.
Fingers wandered up her belly to play with the secrets of her navel, dipping in, exploring, toying with her. He traced the areola of her breast, the touch almost more suggestion than contact. Her nipple contracted, every nerve sparking with heavy fire. His lips fastened on the swollen nub, spreading the blaze of need through her belly.
OK yes, he knows it all, she thought as he moved his attention to her other breast. His mouth was busy, but so were his fingers, unfolding the petals of her sex and finding her slick and ready, but, damnably, he was in no rush. The pressure grew harder and more evocative, stroking against her swollen, eager folds. Holly reared against him, suddenly past words.
She reached for him, finding what she wanted. She ran her fingernails over his most sensitive places, letting the suggestion of pain salt his obvious pleasure. His ragged intake of breath told her all she needed to know. The sound made her nipples ache for the return of his clever mouth.
Trembling with the need for control, he finally grasped her hands, pinning them above her head. The old mattress swayed as he moved above her, poised for his conquest.
Her power, full and free, reached out and balanced his, strength for strength. His darkness would never overwhelm Holly's brightness; nor would she ever banish his night. No need for either of them to hold back now.
His hands released their iron grip, slowly, patiently sliding down her flesh, tracing the flare of her hips, cupping the mounds of her rich femininity. He kissed her right there, the suggestion of his lips and tongue making her part and arch in welcome.
He entered with a deep stroke, filling her, stretching her, holding still for a long moment before either of them could bear to move. Then, unable to wait another second, she thrust her hips again and again, finding the position, the rhythm, drawing him in inch after thick, delicious inch. Discomfort danced with sensuous hunger.
More. Harden
She undulated beneath him, near bliss. Pulsing in concert with their bodies, their power laced like the clasp of fingers. Holly loosed her hands, digging her fingers into his smooth flesh, fighting for better purchase, more leverage.
Hot, agonizing fullness rose as their bodies met, push after push. She gasped, driven toward the inevitable crest. Dazzled. Desperate to drive him deeper.
Just as she felt reason falling away, he stopped, holding her quiet with a grip of iron.
"No!" Holly protested. No, no, don't stop now!
He placed his mouth low on her belly and licked a long, slow stroke the length of her, ending at her throat, the faintest rasp of fang along her hypersensitive flesh.
"You're mine," he said, and gave her a long, slow kiss. "I Desire you, Holly. I love you."
Then came the final, perfectly aimed thrust.
She imploded in a spasm of pleasure, blind and deaf. A torrent of sensation shredded her, every muscle and nerve torn asunder. He came, hot and full with the power of their union. It was magic of the most ancient, most powerful kind.
Later her memory was made up of fragments of torchlight, old herbs, the stillness of the Castle, and of Alessandro. He was laughing with pure joy.
"I suppose," he said, toying with her hair, "that we really should go."
Holly lifted her head from where it rested on Alessandro's chest. Her limbs felt rubbery with satiation. He was right—they should be getting out of the Castle—but she wasn't sure she could walk. Lying in the warm bed, murmuring about everything and nothing between bouts of passion, was much more pleasant.
"In a minute," she said, fondling the thin line of gold hair that crossed his belly, growing darker as it marched south toward magnificence.
Her heart expanded, full of amazement. His skin was warm, his cheeks flushed with lovemaking. He looked alive. Almost. Incredible but true, he was feeding on pure emotion. So this is what it means to be Chosen. As long as we love, he can live without taking from another.
There was no danger of running out of food. Holly could see a steady diet of mutual lust in their future, and that would be a long one. An immortal one. This kind of magic kept a witch young forever. That thought penetrated her happy delirium. Immortality. She had power now, more than she had ever dreamed, and much she needed to learn about it. There was more than a lifetime's work ahead.
Even the immediate future looked crowded. Now she had a mate, one who would form the center of her life. There was school. There was the business. She wanted to make things right with Ashe, to bring her back into the family. She wanted to know more about the castle, much more—like whose room was this, anyway?
And they had to find Mac. She had already let her magic wander the Castle in search of the detective, but she couldn't find him. That worried her. Hopefully she would find him in Fairview. If he was human again, as Geneva so briefly became, he was going to need help. No one could go through what he had without consequences.
Holly shifted her cheek against Alessandro's chest. She could hear his heart, faint and slow, but it had a steady beat. Vampire's hearts beat now and then under the influence of extreme emotion, but this sounded content. An interesting bit of magic, bringing his heart to life.
Other parts of him were also stirring beneath the sheets. Her own heart sped up, a tingle of excitement curling her lips into a smile.
Then the pounding was outside their bubble of warmth, battering at the door. Before Holly completely sat up, Alessandro was off the bed, into his jeans, sword in hand. They exchanged a look after Holly pulled on her clothes. He nodded slowly, and Holly removed the wards she had placed around the door. Alessandro raised the sword.
The door burst open, magically pushed from the outside. It was Omara, chic in a pin-striped pantsuit and square-heeled pumps.
"I felt that," she said softly. "I tasted it on my tongue like dark wine. I thought you might be Chosen before, but this time it is real." She looked from Holly to the bed to Alessandro's naked chest. Her expression was indescribable, like a child lost in wonder. Like a jealous queen. There was love and loss and something calculating in those eyes. Something hungry.
Despite all her newfound strength, Holly felt a brush of fear.
Omara's gaze found Alessandro's. "When you didn't come out of the Castle, I discovered that I cared too much to leave you here. You were injured." The words seemed to catch in her throat. "Your blood scent made you easy to find."
Alessandro lowered his sword. "I wish I could believe that's really why you came. More to the point, it would reflect poorly on a victorious queen to abandon her best warriors after the battle was won. It might make it hard to get good help."
Omara looked away, finding something interesting in the tapestry beside her. Her profile was perfect, except for a faint quiver of emotion in the lips. "I am not entirely without tender feelings. Don't underestimate me."
"I never do."
Soon the three of them stood outside the arched wooden door in the alley. After the Castle's dusty damp, the sea air had never smelled so good and clean.
Holly admired the door. Both inside and outside the Castle, it seemed to have shifted a few blocks from where Geneva's portal had opened. Unexpected, but not a bad thing. A door in an alley was easier to manage than one hanging in midair on a playing field. Nice of the universe to catch that design flaw.
Holly pushed the bolt shut, her other hand resting against the iron strapping. She could feel power rippling beneath the physical surface—not just hers, but the power of the Castle itself. There was also Elaine's magic, and Geneva's. They had all left their traces in the matrix that made up the passage between her world and the Castle.
Omara stood a few steps away, watching Holly. The look was at once critical and grudgingly impressed. "Your permanent portal is very clever, but it can't be left unattended."
"I know," said Holly, not really interested in Omara's input. She slid both hands along the iron until they touched the wood. The magic of the door knew her, leaping like an
eager puppy. The current coursed through her body, up one arm and down the other, brushing against her in silent greeting.
Holly drank it in, considering what she needed to do. The door opened on an entire realm of possibility. People who needed saving. Monsters that really should be locked up forever. She had created access to her world. Was she going to take responsibility for who passed through?
Alessandro stood close, there if she needed him, but he said nothing. The choice was hers to make.
Holly turned to Omara. "I will be the gatekeeper. I made it, after all."
The queen inclined her head. "Good. That is as it should be, but know that most whom you find in there cannot leave. This is a prison for a reason, and the guardsmen are jealous of their charges. You cannot decide alone who enters through that door to walk in our world. Now that the Castle is but a step away, its affairs affect all of us, human and non-human alike."
Holly nodded, feeling the weight of Omara's gaze on her, then on Alessandro, then on the two of them together. There seemed to be an ocean of distance between them and the fierce, tiny queen who stood utterly alone.
The moment broke, as if Omara, on some level, had given in.
"You have my profound thanks, Holly Carver," she said. "You earned your rest tonight." She turned on her heel, starting toward the gate at the mouth of the alley. "Take her home, my champion. Be happy."
"What are you going to do?" Holly asked. "What happens now that the portal is closed?"
Omara stopped, her honey-gold eyes amused. "As queen, I do not get to go home to a soft bed. I get to tie up loose ends, starting with a search for your missing detective. I want to be sure of him before I lay my head down and rest."
Holly opened her mouth, but Omara raised her hand for silence. "I give you my word: I will call you the moment I find him. As for you, my young witch, you have done enough. You gave everything you had to give. Now let responsibility shift to others."
Omara turned and walked away, the long curtain of her hair swinging as she moved. Holly saw the light of her cell phone as she opened it, calling for a ride.
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