Tegan's Return (The Ultimate Power Series #2)

by L.H. Cosway

I shiver. I’m definitely not against the idea of spending another night with Ethan, but if he finds out that I had something to do with helping save Rebecca then he might not want to see my face ever again.

  “I might.” I answer mysteriously. Whether or not I get to enjoy a night with Ethan again all depends on what happens with Pamphrock.

  “Then I will hope,” he replies, giving my hand a small squeeze, and when I look up into his eyes they seem hungry. Perhaps not for my blood though.

  At this I feel a fizzing sensation run through my body, and it’s got nothing to do with the effect Ethan’s having on me. It’s sort of similar to the time when I’d made the fork levitate in Finn’s kitchen. Has something somehow awakened my magic again? With every new step that I take the sensation increases, almost to the point where I feel like I’m physically vibrating with unknown energy.

  Ethan glances down at me. “Are you all right, Tegan?” he asks.

  “I – I feel sort of funny,” I answer, placing a hand to my stomach, because the fizzing is now culminating in that area.

  Ethan stops walking and puts his arms around me, eyes roaming over my body as though checking that everything is okay. The fizzing pops and crackles inside of me, it’s vibrating through my skin and organs like invisible bubbles. The feeling weakens me at the knees and I falter, but Ethan holds me in his firm grasp so that I don’t fall to the ground.

  I’m vaguely aware of a red van that’s been sitting parked on the other side of the road. I can’t concentrate on it too much because the fizzing is overwhelming. All of a sudden the engine starts up and the van casually pulls away from the the curb and drives off down the road. Ethan has his hand pressed to my forehead now, checking my temperature.

  “You’re burning up,” he observes.

  I swallow and try to find my bearings. The fizzing is beginning to subside in a startling rush, in my head I’m imagining a stream of fizzy Coke splashing harshly into a cool glass, filling up the glass and emptying out of the bottle. I am the bottle, and right now it feels so very good to be emptied. I want the fizzy bubbles out of me immediately. My magic both confuses and frightens me, and I’m just not ready to contemplate what it all means.

  My head is foggy for a moment. Then I wonder if the drifting away of the fizzing sensation had anything to do with the departure of that red van. No, it must have been a coincidence. What could a red van have to do with awakening the magic inside of me. I suppose that all depends on who had been inside the van.

  Frantically, I think, we have to follow it, but my realisation has come all too slowly and the vehicle has long since disappeared from sight. I push away from Ethan just a small bit.

  “I’m okay,” I tell him. “I’m just a little bit faint. I haven’t had much to eat today.” Surely that excuse will suffice. I mean, Ethan did live through the days when delicate young ladies would swoon and faint at anything even vaguely discomforting.

  He gazes down at me, a hint of disapproval in his dark eyes. “You should always ensure that you have eaten,” he scolds and then sighs. “What am I going to do with you Tegan?” There is a gleam of mischief in his eyes now, as well as some kind of intent. I struggle to breathe as my stomach turns over on itself at the thoughts of the things that Ethan might do with me. Some of them he already demonstrated last night.

  In an effort to stop myself from completely succumbing to his charms, I retort, “Stop telling me what to do, I’ll eat when I want to. I think you might be a little bit too used to bossing around your employees at the club.”

  He pulls me close and rests his hand on the curve of my lower back. “You know,” he whispers, “you submit rather sweetly when you’re in my bed. It’s surprising judging from the way you continually persist in challenging me everywhere else.”

  My mouth gapes open. His words make me want to melt in his arms and slap him across the face simultaneously. Ethan’s laugh resonates somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach, causing butterflies to flit all about. I can’t look at him right now, and my eyes fall to my feet as a blush warms my cheeks.

  He lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You are quite brave for one so timid. Don’t hide your eyes from me, they are the most beautiful thing about you, and that’s saying something,” he stops and lets his gaze touch on each area of my body. “Because there is nothing about you that isn’t simply exquisite.”

  You only think that because of my blood, my subconscious spits out. But I don’t voice the thought. Maybe I’m being foolish, but I want to pretend. If only for a small time before I have to leave again, that this beautiful vampire genuinely thinks that I am beautiful too. I know I’m not though, I’m hard and broken, and that is all.

  “You shouldn’t say things like that to me,” I say quietly.

  Ethan frowns. “Why not?”

  “Because it makes me want something I can never have.” Okay, I’m such an idiot, and I hate the tears and self-pity that are catching in my throat.

  “Oh, and what might that be?” he asks, his eyes are big and probing now.

  I shrug and blink away the tears. I don’t want to give Ethan the satisfaction of knowing that not being able to have him properly makes me sad.

  I mean to stay quiet, but the answer comes out anyway. I peer at him and whisper, “You.”

  He smiles with such tenderness and warmth. “Silly girl,” he chides. “You have had me since the moment two years ago when tears fell from your eyes in my office.”

  Now I’m confused. Is he talking about my first night at Crimson, when Lucas had intimidated me and they had stopped me from leaving? Before I can reply, Ethan’s phone starts ringing.

  “We’re not finished with this,” he breathes and places a kiss on the top of my head. He steps away and answers the call.

  “Cristescu,” he says into the speaker, all business. You’d never guess he’d just been having a heart to heart with a stupid, naive human girl who can’t help but to have fanciful notions of happy ever after endings with a predator.

  Ethan leans back against the trunk of a tree on the edge of the footpath. His posture is rigid as he listens to what’s being said on the other end of the line. Then he says, “And they have all been apprehended?” There is a beat of quiet. “This is very good news Jeremy, it takes away the requirement for any further action. I understand your anger at the move, but they will receive due punishment.”

  What the hell is going on? He’s talking to Whitfield? Who is going to be punished? My temperature runs cold, and the colour drains from my face. A moment later Ethan hangs up and turns to me.

  “There has been a development that requires my attention. I am sorry but we will have to leave your father where he is for now. But don’t worry, I intend to find him for you, my love.”

  I swallow and nod. This place is too big, and I have no chance of getting anywhere without Ethan’s help. We walk back to his car and get in.

  “I’m truly sorry about this,” says Ethan, his eyes looking from the road to me. “I had hoped to spend the night with you again,” he continues wistfully. “But we always have tomorrow after the celebration.”

  “Sure,” I say, not at all looking forward to a party that will consist mainly of vampires. Especially since Whitfield is going to be the guest of honour.

  “I will drop you off at the club, will you be okay to get a taxi home from there?” Ethan asks. Again, I nod my assent. I’m too consumed with what I had heard of Ethan’s phone conversation, and I want to know if it had anything to do with Pamphrock and the slayers. I need to call Finn the moment I can get away from Ethan.

  Ethan stops his car on the road beside the club. He takes my hand and kisses the inside of my wrist. I feel it all the way down to my toes.

  “Until next time,” he grins, clearly observing the affect his kiss has on me.

  Feeling brave, and perhaps because this could be the very last time I see him if somehow Pamphrock manages to rescue Rebecca before Whitfield’s party, I grab hold of Ethan’s sh
irt and pull him into me, before kissing him on the lips. I can feel him smiling against my mouth, and I can’t helping smiling too at my boldness.

  When I pull away Ethan still hasn’t stopped smiling. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together, you and I.”

  My heart pounds as I think that it might never happen. But I steel myself, plaster a fake grin on my face, and reply, “I hope so, Ethan.”

  I slam shut the car door and he pulls away. I glance over my shoulder and watch as he swiftly turns a corner and disappears from sight. A shaky breath leaves me. I walk to the front of the club, where the usual queue of people wait to get in.

  There’s some sort of a commotion going on by the door, and when I get closer I see Amanda’s recognisable pink hair. Lucas is there, dressed all in black in his work mode garb. Amanda grabs a hold of his upper arm, she seems to be pleading with him about something but he pushes her away. A little too forcefully for my liking.

  Quickly I run toward them. “What’s going on?” I ask through a tight jaw, as I glance between Lucas and Amanda.

  “Bring your friend home, Tegan, I have had enough of her for one night.” Lucas replies coldly.

  “Please, Lucas, don’t do this,” Amanda slurs, she looks drunk, she wobbles on her feet, but is it from alcohol or blood loss?

  I hold onto Amanda to prevent her from falling onto the ground and hurting herself.

  I glare at Lucas. “What have you done to her?”

  He returns my glare, and makes a show of eyeing the onlookers in the queue who seem all too interested in the drama that’s unfolding. “Nothing,” he grits out.

  Amanda tries to pull away from me, but she’s so weak that even I’m too strong for her to get away from. He’s completely ruined her, I think sadly. Is this what would happen to me if I ever allowed Ethan to drink from me? It makes me sick and ever more determined never to let it happen. Amanda continues to struggle, so I let her go.

  She stumbles toward Lucas, falling into him and placing both hands against his hard chest. “I need you,” she whispers. Oh God. My heart is breaking for her right now, and I hate myself for ever having brought her into this world with me. Lucas may be the one who turned her into the weak, grovelling addict she is right now, but I was the one who introduced her to him in the first place. I need to undo this somehow, make her better. Fix her.

  I take a hold of her arm, and gently tug her toward me. “Come on, Mandy, you look tired, let’s get you home to bed.”

  Lucas seems grateful that I’m taking responsibility for her. The fucking coward. I pull Amanda to the side of the road and wave my hand for the taxi driving by to stop for us. I turn back to Lucas after I’ve helped her into the car.

  “Don’t you ever go near her again, do you hear me?” I spit.

  “It’s not me you need to worry about, I tried to get her to leave, but she just keeps coming back,” his voice seems sad, and it makes me angry, he has no right to be sad. This is his fault for being a careless bastard in the first place.

  “Oh poor you,” I reply, heavy on the sarcasm, my words laced with hate. Then I turn away from him and get into the back of the taxi with Amanda.

  “Where to?” the driver asks, eyeing Amanda, who’s slumped in the seat beside me. I turn to look at her and notice that she’s now unconscious, her chest rising and falling slowly. I’m about to tell him her address before I realise that she might not still be living in the same place after all this time. She doesn’t even have a handbag on her, so I can’t search it for any clues as to where she’s staying. There are grey bags under her eyes, she looks terrible. Just like the heroin junkies you see wandering the city streets looking for their next fix. I’m going to have to take her with me back to Finn’s house. I tell the driver his address and he pulls away from the club.

  When we get to Finn’s I pay the driver and put Amanda’s arm over my shoulder to help her out of the car. She moans, only half conscious of what’s going on, and it takes a great effort just to get her to the front door. Inside, I find the house oddly quiet and empty. I wonder where everybody is. I’m still helping Amanda along, and she smells terrible, like she hasn’t showered in a week. So I bring her upstairs, which takes forever in the semi-lucid state she’s currently in.

  I push open the door to the bathroom and sit her down on the closed toilet seat before going to run the bath for her. She’s in desperate need of a wash. Suddenly, she reminds me of how I’d been after Matthew died, and I’d been too consumed with grief to care for my own personal hygiene. Nicky had helped me so much back then, perhaps helping Amanda now is penance for that in some way.

  I pour lots of bubbles into the bath and make sure that the water isn’t too hot. I grab some clean towels from the airing cupboard and hurry back in to help Amanda out of her dirty clothes. She’s fully awake now, but she’s not saying anything, just mindlessly allowing me to manoeuvre her into the bath. Her brown eyes take me in, and they seem so wide and innocent in this moment. I feel like I’m taking care of a child.

  Once I have her situated in the water, I make sure that she’s holding onto the grips on either side of the tub so that she doesn’t slip under and drown, because she seems to be struggling to stay awake. As quick as I can, I go to find some clean clothes of mine for her to change into. I grab a t-shirt and sweatpants, before going back in to her. She hasn’t drowned, thank God. But when I look at her, I see that tears are streaming down her face.

  “I don’t understand why I’m acting like this Tegan,” she whispers, her eyes staring at the bubbles that are concealing her nudity.

  “It’s okay, I’m going to help you get better,” I tell her, as though I’m making a vow. I’m determined to fix her, no matter what it takes.

  She opens her mouth to speak again, and her voice is so small and weak. “Sometimes I think I’m living in a nightmare, and the only person who can take away the horror is Lucas. I need him. It feels like I’m drowning and can never get enough air to breathe.”

  “You don’t need him,” I’m sitting on the edge of the bath tub, I rinse a hand towel, pour some shower gel onto it and then hand it to her so that she can wash herself. She takes it from me and absently runs it over her arms and legs. “You’re just not seeing things clearly right now.”

  All of a sudden, her eyes cut to me. “I do need him! He’s the only one who can take away the pain,” her hand instinctively travels to her neck, and she presses her fingers harshly into the skin there, where there’s an old bite mark from Lucas.

  I pull her hand away, because it looks like she’s hurting herself. “Stop that,” I whisper.

  She looks up into my eyes, and it seems that her moment of lucidity is gone, and she drifts off into a comatose state yet again.

  Is this what happens to all of the vampires’ blood donors? Or is Lucas just particularly careless with the humans he feeds from? Perhaps if he alternated between a few different donors then they wouldn’t become addicted the way Amanda is addicted. I imagine that’s what Ethan does. At least I hope it is. I can’t bear the thought of him doing this to the humans he feeds from.

  I pour some fresh water over Amanda to wash away the suds from the shower gel. Then I help her out before wrapping her in a clean, dry towel. Once I have her dry, I dress her in the t-shirt and sweat pants and put her into the bed in the guest room that I’ve been sleeping in. She falls asleep almost immediately, looking strangely peaceful as her head sags against the soft pillow.

  I close the door gently so as not to wake her up, and go to take a shower. Once I’m out I get into some bed clothes and go downstairs to find something to eat. Nobody’s come home yet, and it’s making me strangely suspicious. Even Noreen isn’t around. I grab my phone and hit Finn’s number. It rings out but nobody answers. I try another two times, but still nothing. On the third call I finally get an answer.

  “What is it Tegan?!” Finn’s voice is loud and stressed, and it takes me slightly by surprise. He’s never answered the phone to me in this wa
y before, something very bad must have happened.

  “What’s going on? Where is everyone?” I ask in a quiet whisper.

  Finn breathes heavily down the line. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes. We really fucked up Tegan. Pamphrock wanted to go ahead and lead the rescue mission tonight. I told him it was too soon, but he wouldn’t listen. The vamps caught them and completely overwhelmed them, and now Pamphrock, alongside thirty of our best men have been captured by Whitfield. So, excuse me if I’m rude as fuck right now.” With this he hangs up, and my mouth gapes open in horror. That’s what Ethan’s phone call had been about. My head rings with the words due punishment. This is ten times worse than anything I could have imagined.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Pirate Jenny

  I’m still in shock as I go about making myself some tea and toast and then I sit in the kitchen to eat it and wait for Finn to get back. Various panicked thoughts run through my mind. If Whitfield’s captured Pamphrock, then he truly has succeeded in his takeover. What will he do to him now? What will he do to Rebecca?

  I have never even met the girl, but all of this work I have been doing to rescue her has sort of made me feel oddly attached to her. Like my conscience has taken on the responsibility of worrying about her, without me even realising it.

  I take a sip of my warm, sugary tea, and it slides comfortingly down my throat. I stare vacantly into my cup, looking for answers. I’m so consumed with my own thoughts that I don’t immediately notice the dripping noise. It sounds like someone’s left the tap running slightly. Water goes drip, drip, drip, slapping onto the bottom of the sink.

  But it’s too close to be the sink, it sounds like it’s dripping onto the floor a few feet away from me. Just as my eyes begin their journey about the room to determine where the dripping is coming from, they land on a pale, incorporeal form standing directly in front of me. I sputter tea out of my mouth in fright, and it sprays all over the table.

  The figure stares at me impassively. It’s the witch Whitfield killed outside the club. Zara’s sister, the one with the eye patch that makes her look like a pirate. The one whose throat got slit. The evidence is still there. That’s what’s making the dripping noise. The blood is dripping onto the wooden floor of Finn’s kitchen, creating a pool at her almost invisible feet.