Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology
Page 167
Their relationship hadn’t ended years ago as Oberon had led me to believe.
Doubts of his feelings for me had already crept in, but the truth of Mahalia’s words still stung. I was an idiot, stuck in one of those crappy teen movies where the cool kid dates the nerd on a dare, and everyone’s in on the joke. Except without the sappy-sweet, happy ending.
“Why?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
“Oberon will become High Priest as my successor, but that does not guarantee him a place on the Council. Unless—”
I interrupted her. “Unless he was so powerful that they wouldn’t risk his becoming an enemy.”
“Precisely.” She let out a relieved sigh, pleased that I understood.
Oh, I understood all right. I understood that for the last few months they had been manipulating me. No wonder Agrona and Roul had been so pissed off with her when they’d left the other night. They knew what she was up to.
“So you decided that it would be better to lie to me? To use me?”
“The connection was already there, and so was the attraction. I merely nudged things along.”
“This isn’t The Dating Game, Mahalia. It’s my life!”
“I made a decision to ensure the future of my coven, and I would do it again. Everything I do is for them. There are only three seats on the Council, Maurin, and the coven hasn’t always held one. The last time that the coven did not hold a seat on the Council was from 1686 to 1696. I think that we all know just how well that decade turned out for us.” For the first time in our exchange, the witch let, her anger getting the better of her.
“Well, you’ve had a pretty good run since then.” I turned my back on her, pacing the perimeter of the yard.
“We’re in danger of losing our position within the Council, Maurin. I made a terrible mistake aligning myself with Baylen. It was an error that I could not afford with the Fey constantly vying for our seat. Your union with Oberon would have ensured our place within the Council for centuries to come.”
Spinning around on my heel, I stomped toward her.
“You could have asked for my help, but instead you lied about everything. I can see why you and Baylen worked so well together; you’re just like he was. Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”
“If left alone, that first spark you felt for Oberon would have faded. The metaphysical tie would have remained, but when you found someone else you would have tried to break the connection. Your alliances would have changed.” She sounded so certain I’d betray them.
“You don’t know that! I don’t even know if I’d do that, because you never gave me the chance to figure it out for myself.”
“I’ve seen it!” She threw her arms up in defeat.
“Well, a fat load of good talking to a seer did you. The connection is still broken, and it’s certainly safe to say that my alliances have changed. All of your actions ensured it would happen.”
With the Inquisitors taken care of, I could finally go back home. And man, was I ready to get the hell out of there. Aidan had abandoned his post on the front step. Damn it! I had hoped to catch a ride with him, because I’d rather walk than ask Cash for a lift and deal with his inevitable “I told you so.”
Ready to put feet to pavement, I saw Aidan squeeze through Cash and Amalie. He had my duffel bag in one hand and my sword in the other. It’s a good thing he had the sense to get my stuff, because I would have stormed off without it. I always seemed to be doing that. Turning on my heel, I stomped over to Aidan’s car.
“Where are you going?” Oberon stepped out from Mahalia’s shadow, speaking for the first time since his exposure as a no-good, lying bastard.
“Like you care.” I opened the passenger side door, giving Oberon the death stare the entire time.
“Maurin, wait. What about the Afrit?” Oberon called after me.
“I’ll take care of it. Without your help. Like I did on Winter Island and like I did when I was in jail.” I got in the car and slammed the door shut.
“What did my car ever do to you? Don’t take it out on her.” Aidan joked as he tossed my bag and the Retaliator on the back seat.
“Sorry,” I grumbled, laying my head back on the headrest and shutting my eyes.
Chapter 16
Aidan insisted on walking me to my door, despite my incessant protests the whole way back to my apartment. Digging my keys out of my bag, which took forever because they were—where else—on the bottom, I thanked Aidan for the ride, opened the door, and went inside. I practically hit him in the face with the door before I realized he was following me in.
“I think I’ve got it from here.” I placed a hand on his chest, stopping him just inside the doorway.
“It’s late, or early, depending upon how you look at it. I don’t think that there’s enough time for me to make it back to my place in Boston.” He leaned against the door jam.
“You want to stay here?” I was suddenly mortified at the trail of clothes leading to my bedroom and the books piled up on the end tables, the coffee table, and the floor in front of the couch. There were a lot of books everywhere, actually.
“I don’t want to put you out or anything, but yeah, that’d be grand.” He upped the wattage on his smile and turned on that Irish charm.
“I guess so. I mean my place isn’t exactly set up for a vampire. You don’t think it’d be better to stay with Agrona and Kedehern?” I asked, remembering all the rooms I had searched looking for Oberon and the rest of the coven a few months ago.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s too much trouble. Forget I asked. I can figure something else out.” Aidan pushed off the door jam, ready to leave.
“No, wait. It’s fine, really. You can crash here. I don’t want you bursting into flames on the way back to Boston. It’d be a shame to ruin your custom interior.” I could feel myself blushing slightly.
“That it would.” He laughed.
What the hell was I thinking letting a vampire stay the night? Er, the day? Forget his interior, if he burst into flames in my apartment, I’d never get my security deposit back. I didn’t have a single room in my place that without a window.
“Since you’re going to let me stay with you, do you think I could actually come in?” Aidan pointed over my shoulder to the apartment behind me.
“Oh, right. Of course, come in.” I scrambled to pick up some of the clothes that were strewn on the floor.
He’d already seen the mess from the doorway. I could have just left it, and that way when he asked where the bathroom was I could have told him to just follow the trail.
“Nice place you have here.”
“I gave the maid the week off. Terrible timing, since I’ve already come home once this week covered in blood and dirt. Make that twice.” I was suddenly hyper-aware of my appearance.
My clothes were covered in dirt, cement, and of course, blood. The dust left my hair dry and disgusting. I must have looked like a lunatic at Mahalia’s. Fuck it. Not like there was anyone to impress there. Somehow Aidan still looked good, despite his clothes being as filthy as mine.
“Did you just move in?” His eyes scanning my apartment, taking it all in.
“What?” I asked, distracted by my thoughts. “No, I’ve been here a couple of years.”
“Oh. Sorry, I just thought…” He gestured to the mess.
“I’m a minimalist when it comes to décor.” I said.
“I think that in order to be a minimalist, you’d still need to have a décor.” There was that wink and smile again. A deadly combination.
“Hey, if you wanted to curl up for the day in the lap of luxury, then you should have gone to Agrona’s. You still can,” My voice held a little more anger than necessary but it helped distract me from how attractive he was and I still had so much pent up inside.
“Lighten up, Maurin. I was only joking.”
“I’m going to take a shower and then go to bed. Make yourself at home.” I went to my room to grab a change o
f clothes before heading to the bathroom.
“Maurin?”
“Yeah?” I stopped in the hallway, but didn’t turn around.
“Thanks. I really do appreciate your letting me stay here.” The sincerity in his voice made me feel bad for taking out some of my anger on him.
“You’re welcome.” I lowered my head a little. My shoulders slumped a little from exhaustion and guilt, but I still didn’t turn around to apologize. Grabbing a pair of black yoga pants and a purple raglan tee, I ignored Aidan who was still poking around the place and went into the bathroom. I let the water run until steam filled the small room before climbing into the shower.
For the second time this week, I scrubbed the aftermath of an ass-beating off my body. I watched the grayish-brown water swirl around the little chunks of cement and mortar that had caught in the strainer. There was way too much crap going down my drain lately. Time I invested in some liquid plumber.
Once out of the shower, I dried off, and threw on my clothes. With my hair towel dried, I pulled it back in a loose braid. pulled the amulet out of my jean pocket and wrapped it around my wrist in a makeshift bracelet.
When I came out of the bathroom, I stopped short at the sight of Aidan sitting on the edge of my bed. He was leaning back on his elbows and looking right at home in my room.
“Um, Aidan, I…” I was at a loss for words.
“Relax, Maurin. I’m going to hole up for the day in your closet. I just wanted to ask you if I could use your shower first. I grabbed my bag out of the trunk while you were getting cleaned up.”
“Oh. Sure.” I was a little out of breath as thoughts of him in the shower invaded my mind. I mentally scolded myself for being a pig. “You keep a bag in your trunk?”
“I’ve found that in my line of work it pays to be prepared. I never know when the Vampire Authority will call.”
Even his job sounded hot. What the hell was wrong with me? I was not going to jump into the arms of the first hot guy I met just to forget about Oberon, even if that guy was a delicious vampire with an irresistible Irish accent.
“Shower’s all yours. Sorry I hogged all the hot water.”
“It’s fine. I appreciate your hospitality.”
I stood there, conflicted by my feelings for him and distracted by more images of him slick with water as the shower turned on. There was something seriously wrong with me. One vampire bite and I turned into a fang banger.
Aidan came out of the bathroom surrounded by a cloud of steam. The teenage girl my brain reverted to was convinced it was because he was that hot and not because he forgot to turn the fan on.
He had to know what I had been thinking when his eyes met mine. Aidan dropped his gaze, focusing on my midsection and regions a little lower and confirmed my suspicions.
Like a jack rabbit, my heart picked up its pace. I knew he could hear it, but he seemed to be paying special attention to my belly button at the moment.
Suddenly self-conscious, I tried to inconspicuously look down. He let out a soft laugh as I realized what he was looking at. I was rubbing the spot on my wrist where he had bitten me. I quickly let go of my wrist and rubbed my hands on my pants.
Was he doing this? Was this some kind of vampire trick? Or was I actually starting to have feelings of my own, now that the metaphysical tie to Oberon had been broken?
Aidan walked around to the head of my bed and drew back the covers. A little presumptuous, but I didn’t stop him. Instead just watched him, watched his muscles move beneath his clothes. So much for not jumping.
“It’s time for bed, Maurin.”
Afraid I’d ruin the moment with my big mouth, I snapped it shut and slowly walked over to him, realizing for the first time just how tall he was.
Aidan moved with his usual speed, scooping me up in his arms as I nuzzled his neck, breathing him in. Lured in by the smell of sandalwood and soap it took all I had not to run my tongue along his neck to see what he tasted like. He turned his head just enough for me to feel his lips graze my forehead. His resolve broke with a deep breath; his lips finally pressed against my temple as he setme down on the bed.
I slid over to make room for him, but instead of crawling in beside me he pulled up the covers and tucked me in. The closet door clicked shut before I had a chance to say anything. Rolling over, I punched my frustration out on one of the extra pillows.
Tormented by dreams of Aidan, I tossed and turned, unable to get any real sleep.. First he was like the lead in a romance novel, his ankle-length, leather duster barely brushing the tips of the blades of grass as he crossed the field to reach me. Then we were back in the jail cell. I was in his lap as he held me to his chest. His fingers slid across my skin like silk, tracing up my neck. He tilted my head back, and pressed his fangs against my neck. My body tingled with anticipation of the pleasure he had promised before. A sound of ecstasy escaped my lips as his fangs broke the skin, and he finally drank me in.
Acting like a school girl, crushing on a vampire who obviously wasn’t interested in me in that way, I woke more than once disappointed my dreams weren’t real. If he was, he would have gotten into bed with me. Rolling over on my back, I pulled the covers up over my head. I was never going to get the sleep I needed if I didn’t stop thinking about Aidan. After fumbling around for the remote to my TV, I hit the power button without even looking. The History channel came on and I was out before they could finish explaining why so many planes really disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle.
I woke up a few hours later to the sound of my stomach growling. There wouldn’t be any tasty treats from the Daily Grind on my kitchen table waiting for me. Not after what happened the night before. Switching off the TV, I dragged myself out of bed.
At least I had coffee. Coffee would never let me down. I could count on coffee.
It felt like a café au lait kind of morning so I made a pot of coffee and chicory. My mouth instantly watered as the first drop hit the bottom of the glass pot. Like Old Mother Hubbard, my pantry was bare. Groceries had been low on my priority list. A little shake of the lonely box of granola said there was barely enough left for a bowl, so I got the milk out of the fridge, opened the jug and instantly regretted it.
Black coffee and chicory with granola straight from the box—the breakfast of champions.
Since I wasn’t going to be trapped under the thumb of the coven anymore, I decided to do a little investigation of my own, the old-fashioned way. Google. Grabbing my laptop from the living room, I set it up on the kitchen table and searched for anything that I could find on the Afrit.
There were pages and pages of information, but unfortunately most of it was related to video games. According to Wikipedia, Afrits were from the same class of demon as the Djin or Genie, except without all the wishing and magic carpet rides. They were wicked and ruthless, winged beings formed from the blood of a murder victim. Did the Inquisitors call him up with the blood of the first witch, or did they trap him before that? Driving a nail into a circle of blood from the victim was supposed to stop them from forming, but it didn’t say if that would work if they had partially shifted from their form of smoke and fire to a physical being. Not that I had any blood lying around if it did.
After following what seemed like a thousand links and my virus protection thwarting hundreds of threats, I finally came across some useful, if not disappointing, information. We weren’t going to kill the Afrit with ordinary weapons. Magic was the only thing they were susceptible to. Great. Looked like I’d be spending more quality time with the coven after all.
I tried to picture the Afrit without his humanoid cloak. Wings, smoke, and fire. It sounded like this was the inspiration for Tolkein’s Balrog. And then it hit me. He wasn’t trying to take the shape of a human.
I clicked on another link. Afrits could take on the form of a sandstorm, Satan, or the murder victim—all of which sounded like a good time. All of the dead witches were women. That meant the first witch we found wasn’t really the first murder v
ictim. So who was? Was he from Salem or somewhere else? The Inquisitors weren’t typically armed with magical weapons. They needed a way to control the beast. Whatever spell they had found in the Key had trapped him in the form of a dead man, and now he was trying to get out. Well that was just fan-fucking-tastic.
With that little bit of good news, I decided to give my investigation a rest and head out for some real food. It was already two o’clock in the afternoon. How did that happen? That granola wasn’t holding me over any more. I needed something with substance.
First things first, I needed to get dressed. This posed a problem. There was a vampire sleeping in my closet. How many girls could say that? Between what was still clean in my duffel bag and what was in my dresser drawers, I managed a fashionable attire of black leggings with a worn out Social Distortion shirt and combat boots. No one could say I didn’t dress to impress. I grabbed my other wool coat out of the hall closet and headed out to the diner down the street.
It was only a couple of blocks to the little Portuguese diner that had been owned by the same family for the last fifty years, but my legs felt like they were frozen solid. I couldn’t decide between breakfast, lunch, or dinner, so I ordered steak and eggs with a side of home fries, linguica, and an order of toast. That pretty much covered all three meals. Joe Sousa, the frail, old man who owned the diner, boxed up my food and looked at me like he was trying to figure out where I was going to put it all. Thankfully, my metabolism had picked up along with my appetite. With money and carry out boxes exchanged, I went back to the apartment to stuff my face.
Ms. Costa stopped me on the landing outside her second floor apartment.
“I was afraid that you had moved out of the building. I haven’t seen you in so long. I just put on a fresh pot of coffee, why not come in for a cup?” Her voice sounded a little rough, as if she were getting over a cold.