by Liz Schulte
Liz Schulte
Copyright 2012 Liz Schulte
Discover other titles by Liz Schulte at Amazon.com.
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Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty one
Twenty two
Twenty three
Twenty four
Twenty five
Twenty six
Twenty seven
Twenty eight
Twenty nine
Thirty
Thirty one
Thirty two
Thirty three
Thirty four
Thirty five
Thirty Six
Thirty Seven
Epilogue
About the author
Praise for Liz Schulte’s Secrets
- Olivia and Holden are the couple that you love to see fight and make up. The fire between the two of them makes the book a page turner alone. Throw in the obstacles (I don't want to give anything away!) that they're up against, and the book consumes you. I CANNOT wait to see what Choices (Book #2) brings for our beloved couple, and to find out what their fates will hold.
- This book is a page turner. The story is vivid and the characters and story are brought to life off the page.
- This was an emotional and mysterious story that got me hooked early on and as the story progressed it just got better and better. I felt like it was different from other paranormal books I've read but in a positive sense.
- Schulte did a fab job of keeping the story moving, I fell completely in love/lust? with Holden (who wouldn't?) and Olivia is a strong female character who I think women can relate to -- so much coming at her that's confusing and scary, yet she seems to figure out much of it and still stay strong...eventually.
The ending -- oooh, Liz. You leave us wanting so much more. The mark of an excellent author.
- I immediately fell in love with the characters in this book. The author does an amazing job of making the reader empathize and even root for the most terrible people.
- Liz Schulte is quickly becoming my favorite author. She will soon be sharing shelf space with Anne Rice and Kim Harrison and I have very limited shelf space. Forget Twilight, forget the Hunger Games; this is the new series to follow and fall in love with.
- This was one of those books that I couldn't put down and read deep into the night. We get to hear both Liv's and Holden's versions of what is going on and OH HOLDEN! Ultimate bad boy but he has incredible depth to him.
Acknowledgements
I am never quite sure what to say on these. There are so many people to thank and I know I will always miss people, but here goes.
To fans of the series: Thank you for sticking with me and loving my characters as much as I do. It truly brightens my day and motivates me to create when I hear from you.
To my family and friends: Thank you being so incredibly supportive and excited about my writing. It makes it so much easier to put all of this time into a dream that everyone believes can come true.
To my writing friends: Thank you for letting me ask all the weird questions without thinking I am a serial killer.
To Mandie Stevens: Thank you for being a promotions guru and for always having a new fantastic idea up your sleeve.
One
Dark shadows danced on the streets and in between the warehouse buildings. It was quiet now, not a jinni in sight. I couldn’t fathom how I had knocked them all out, but every last one of them still lay where they were when I—well, I don’t know what I did. They’d wake up, eventually—at least I hoped they would.
“We have to go somewhere.” The growled comment came from the beautiful statue of a man standing beside me in the middle of a deserted street. My heart pattered and my brain struggled to maintain control at the sound of his voice. Holden. It was so right and so wrong that he stood beside me.
“Go wherever you want. No one’s asking you to stay.” Quintus, dimpled and sweet and normally gentle, took on the appearance of an avenging angel. Light haloed him burning in intensity.
“Why don't we have a little chat, guardian?” Holden had never looked more menacing—blood soaked, eyes flashing, and white teeth gleaming in his snarling mouth.
“Yes, we have to go somewhere.” Femi repeated Holden’s words, but calmly, already bored with the guys’ bickering. “Holden's suggestion is the only one I've heard.”
“Of course he has a suggestion, he's a criminal.” Quintus’ light grew brighter and brighter. “Olivia?” He looked to me, but I didn’t know what to say.
Holden stepped between the two of us and grabbed Quintus by the throat.
I hadn't spoken; I couldn't even think. My mind spun, and my skin buzzed with energy. Standing dead in the center of all my mental chaos was Holden, the one constant and unmovable fixture in my mind. Whatever they were talking about seemed unimportant, insignificant. In one single night I managed to bring the wrath of Heaven and Hell down on us. Did we think we could hide? We were all going to die.
I shook my head and forced myself to focus on the people depending on me. What did they want? I put a hand on Holden's shoulder, and he dropped Quintus back to the floor. “It's okay,” I told him, then looked to Quintus. “What was the question?”
Quintus sighed, and Holden's fist connected to his face with a crunch and spurt of light.
Hasn't there been enough of that tonight? I was too tired and unfocused to maintain any sort of psychic barriers against Holden, so I didn't even try. My every thought had to be spamming his brain since we were inside the warehouse, but he didn’t complain—or run away crying.
Holden shrugged, but didn't hit Quintus again, though his desire to do so flooded me for a moment before it disappeared.
“What's the plan, Olivia?” Femi asked. “These two can't stop fighting long enough to come up with one. Time, I take it, isn't on our side.”
“I didn't anticipate this.” I ran my fingers through my hair, frustration not helping me think any faster. It was like part of my brain was passed out and the rest of me was hung over—slow and sluggish.
Holden’s eyes drilled into mine as he spoke silently. I have a place we can go. I’ve had it a long time. It was paid for in cash, and it isn't connected to me in anyway. We can stay there until we come up with something better. That idiot refuses because it's mine.
When he spoke in my mind it was on a level unaffected by the cloudy confusion that prevented me from following Quintus or Femi for any length of time. I nodded. It sounded like a reasonable idea. A small smile tipped Holden's lips but vanished as he turned back to the others.
“We go to my place and come up with a more permanent plan once everyone has rested.”
“But—” Quintus started.
I held up my hand. “You're out voted.”
He dropped the subject, sending ha
teful looks toward Holden.
“Okay,” Holden said, taking charge. He had changed since I was gone. Before he would’ve stood back with a bored expression and a mocking line on the tip of his tongue. Not anymore. Now he was a leader through and through. “We all know where we're going. I need to run back to my apartment and get a few things while I still can. Does anyone else need to make a stop?” Holden’s actions and tone of voice demanded—and expected—people to do whatever he said.
“I need to grab the emergency bag,” Femi said, and Holden nodded as if he understood. I looked to Quintus to see if he knew about emergency bags, but he stared at his feet. The two of us remained silent.
“Do you need anything, Liv?”
“I can make whatever I need.”
Holden's eyebrows quirked. His incredulity nearly made me smile.
“I'll explain later.”
“Okay, Liv and I will go to my apartment. Quintus, you go with Femi. We’ll all meet in Memphis tomorrow.”
“Olivia and I can go to Memphis now,” Quintus said with his own smile, though it had no humor behind it.
Holden stared at him, fighting off the urge to pummel him again which I appreciated.
“You guys shouldn't do that transporting thing.” Femi batted at something I couldn’t see in the air as she spoke. “If your people are going to be after her, they can use it to track you. Nothing comes free.”
Quintus nodded and I did a double take. Why hadn't he told me that they monitored my transporting? What if I decided to see my mom? Would that have set off warning bells? Did they know about the time I accidentally went back to my apartment? Isn't that something I should’ve been told?
“It's settled. We don't have time for debate. See you in Memphis.” Holden grabbed my hand. His touch sent sparks up and down my arm and made my heart flutter. The haze even retreated a little.
“I don't think Olivia should go with you in this state.”
Holden sighed and gave me a look that said he'd have to be a saint to put up with this guy—and he wasn’t a saint. “Fine. She can go with Femi, and you can come with me. I think it's time we got a thing or two straight.”
Quintus started to agree, but I cut him off and spoke without thinking. “I'm going with Holden. We'll see you tomorrow.” I let go of Holden's hand and headed in the direction he had started us. He didn't need any more incentive than that to drop whatever argument he was about to get into.
We walked in silence. Piece by piece I organized my thoughts and filed them away to deal with after I had some sleep. Holden put a hand on my back to steer me down a different street, but apart from that, he never touched, said, or thought anything. He was always good at that—being with me and not overpowering me. He had the greatest ability to overwhelm all of my thoughts and senses, yet he did so the very least of anyone. Perhaps he was more sensitive to his actions because he had lived with the fact his emotions transferred to everyone around him for decades—perhaps centuries, I didn’t know. I didn’t know all that much about him. Holden wasn’t forthcoming, and when I had questioned him, he always managed to avoid telling me anything. As we continued walking, we entered into a familiar neighborhood.
His apartment was no more than six blocks from mine. I nearly laughed at how close I had been all of this time when I felt alone and anonymous. It was amazing I hadn’t run into him before tonight. Had I known he was mere steps away, would my resolve have been so strong? Or did I manage to stay hidden from Holden because I believed that miles and indifference separated us? How was any of this going to work? How was I going to work with Holden despite the fact that my feelings never went away or lessened even an ounce? I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked… happy. Surely, that wasn’t right. I turned my head to see him better and he turned to me. His eyebrows knitted together in question, but other than that his face was as blank and indifferent as ever. He held the door to his apartment building open for me.
His apartment looked nothing like the one in St. Louis. It was colder and even more sterile. He had one of his purchases from my show on his mantle. I couldn't tell if I was more moved by the gesture or by seeing my artwork in the flesh. I walked over to it and trailed a finger over the spotless frame. I longed to take this small piece of who I was with me. Why was it so hard to let that part of me go? I withdrew hand and looked away.
“Take it,” Holden said, watching me.
“We can't.”
“I'm not leaving it here. I have a place. We'll drop it off.”
I retrieved the photo, happy to have it in my hands again. It grounded me, something I had missed. I could stare at this picture and believe that our lives had never changed, that I was still the hopelessly in love girl I’d been years ago—the fool who believed nothing else mattered.
Holden’s voice drifted through the room, lending credence to my temporary fantasy. “I'm going to take a quick shower. Make yourself at home.” Holden studied me for a moment, like his eyes might be playing tricks on him.
I blinked a few times, pushing myself back to present. “Do I need to get anything together for you?”
“The emergency bag is on the floor of the closet. I won't be long.”
He disappeared through a door, and I walked around looking at what he surrounded himself with. His walls were charcoal grey, the furniture black, and the accents silver. Everything was as pristine as ever. Holden's need for control knew no bounds. No detail was ever overlooked or forgotten by him. I could move the smallest item in any room, and he would notice immediately. I always thought he was a neat freak, but now I understood better. Holden survived as a jinni by maintaining constant control of himself and his surroundings. He couldn't afford to relinquish that control for even a moment or a mistake could be made that would cost him his life. A mistake like me.
I opened his kitchen cabinets, curious about whether or not he had dishes this time. He didn't. I went into his bedroom; the bed was made with military corners. Again everything was dark and empty. His closet was a work of wonder. Never in my life had I been able to keep a closet that clean and organized. It was as if he measured the distance between hangers. A small black duffel bag lay on the floor. I picked it up, and it was surprisingly heavy. Curious about what was in an emergency bag, I opened it. There was a spare set of clothes, money, guns, four passports, and ten prepaid cell phones. Holden was prepared for a fight, but there was still room in the bag so I threw in another pair of jeans and a couple more shirts. And that was when I saw it.
Tucked away from obvious sight in one corner of his closet were my camera bag, the shirt, and a photo of us. I didn't even remember taking that picture, but we both looked happy and somehow younger. He must have had it developed. I tamped down the part of me that wanted to melt at how sweet that was and continued to study the photograph. I had the glint of a hopeful dreamer in my eyes, and Holden looked at me in awe. My fingers tightened on the picture, but I forced myself to put it down. I picked up the camera bag with shaking hands and tears threatening. I had missed it so much.
“You found my shrine.” Holden's voice came from behind me.
He stood in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist, his arms folded in front of him. Tight muscles lined every inch of his body in one rippling masterpiece. I wanted to run my hands down his arms and feel the strength of his biceps beneath my fingers. I wanted to kiss the hollow of his neck and press my body against his. I wanted to—
“We don't have time for that.” He wrapped his arms around me and drew in a long, lingering breath. “Later,” he whispered into my hair before pressing his lips against it. “When are you going to tell Quintus?”
Though his body against mine felt like heaven, I pushed away from him. The mention of Quintus snapped me out of my uncontrolled desires and back to reality. This wasn't right. It wasn't what I wanted—well, at least it wasn't what I needed. “Tell him what?”
Holden pushed a row of clothing to the side revealing a safe. “That you’re mine
,” he said as he spun the combination. The door swung open, revealing more cash. He picked up his bag, looked inside, then glanced back at me.
“I thought you might need extra clothes.”
He pushed them to one side of the duffel and loaded the money. When he ran out of room, he tossed the last three stacks of bills at me.
“Put these in your camera bag.” I did as he instructed. “When are you telling him?”
“I'm not.”
His head leaned back a moment, but his eyes never moved even a fraction from my face. “I assumed the two of you had something... with the way he’s been acting.” His mouth was inching toward a large smile by Holden's standards. “You're not seeing him?”
I licked my lips and fought to hold my ground. I didn’t know why I was so nervous to tell him. It wasn’t like I had done anything wrong. “We just started dating.”
The smile on his face evaporated. “Then—”
“Holden,” I cut him off. “I said back at the warehouse our conversation didn't change anything. I meant that. We can’t get back together.”
“Sure. You meant that at the time, but our situation has changed dramatically since then. The main reason for us not to be together is gone. Hell has no power over me. I have my soul. I'm free. For the first time since we met there’s nothing stopping us.”
“Your lack of a soul isn't what made you do the things you did. You've proven that. If the fact that you didn't have a soul meant you had no control over your actions, you would’ve never been with me. You would've killed me, but you didn't. Everything you've done has been a choice. Including sleeping with Juliet.”
His expression went stony and unreadable. “This is about her.”
I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what it was about, but I knew I couldn't be with him. My own desires were unimportant: these were the facts. I steeled my spine and picked up my camera bag. I started to walk past him, but he stopped me. “I thought you were dead,” he whispered.
I looked into his eyes and whispered back, “She was my best friend.” Then I brushed off his hand and walked out of the room. I heard a loud thump in the closet and felt Holden's temper flair, but I kept moving until I was in the living room. He appeared a few minutes later, dressed in jeans and a white button up shirt, carrying his duffel bag. He could’ve walked out of any men's cologne advertisement. No signs of the bloody picture of violence he’d been less than thirty minutes before. He stared at me for a long while.
