Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Colleen Gleason

  He didn’t know where he was, but he knew who he was with—Polina. As perfect as she looked nestled in the puffy white bedspread, her usual princess-like demeanor was gone, replaced with obvious exhaustion. He let her rest. He was too sore to move to wake her up, anyway.

  Aside from the bed, everything in the room was made of mirrors. The floor, the walls, the ceiling. Blue light came from some indistinguishable place and bounced around the room, giving him the distinct impression of being encased inside a diamond. And encased he was. He could see no door, no way out. Of course the layers and facets of the walls tricked the eye into feeling turned around and upside down. He closed his eyes, head throbbing from the effort of taking it all in.

  He should be dead. The wolf’s jaws had clamped down on him and an angel had come to carry him away. The angel was Polina. She’d saved him. Again.

  “Are you awake?” He opened his eyes to find Polina leaning over him.

  “Sorry I woke you,” he croaked through his parched throat.

  She frowned. “You need something to drink. You are dehydrated.”

  He tried to smile but his face hurt too much. His eyes darted to the mirror behind her. She was not reflected in it. The only face staring back at him was his own. It was as if she wasn’t even there.

  “Are you real?” he rasped.

  “I’m afraid so.” She followed his gaze. “Oh, you mean because the mirrors swallow my reflection. It’s part of the magic of this place. It protects me, which means it hides me. Here. I’ll, make it easier for you.” She blinked her eyes and her reflection returned.

  “What is this place?”

  “My magical hearth. Um, the equivalent of Grateful’s attic. This is where I keep my grimoire most of the time and where I have the most power. And the place I sort lost souls occasionally.”

  “Am I dead?”

  “No!” Polina clarified. “I was able to heal you.” She helped him into a seated position, which was more painful than he expected. She propped him up in a nest of pillows.

  “My head is killing me.”

  “You’ve lost too much blood.” With a groan she crawled out of the bed and hobbled toward one of the mirrors as if her entire body hurt. “You need tea,” she said. “Ginger and horehound. It will help heal you.”

  “You don’t have to—” But she was already gone. The silver swallowed her, the sway of her back receding in the reflection although she was no longer in the same room.

  “Mindfuck if I ever saw one.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his head. He must’ve fallen asleep because when he opened them again, Polina was standing beside him with a tray. She rested the goods on a bedside table and poured him a cup of herbal tea.

  “Here, drink this.” She brought the delicate floral teacup to his lips. He took a long sip and then another. The stuff tasted awful, like herbal shampoo in a cup, but he was thirsty enough to drain the cup dry. “Very good. It’s a potion, not a beverage. Tastes horrible but it will help, trust me. Now a scone.” She broke off a piece and held it to his lips.

  He took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. The confection was tasty and did a good job of chasing the bitter tea from his palate. “Thank you,” he muttered, leaning his head back.

  “Well, I can’t take credit for these. They came from Costco.” She grinned. “Right next to the—”

  “Eye of newt,” he finished, laughing painfully.

  Her smile faded and she lowered herself onto the side of the bed. “Coming here, especially in the middle of the night, was extremely stupid,” she chided. “What were you thinking? You couldn’t wait until tomorrow to berate me for using magic on you?”

  “I didn’t come to berate you,” Logan said softly. “I came to apologize.”

  Her eyebrows lifted and her chin dropped. “Apologize?”

  “Grateful told me about the positivity potion.”

  She shrugged. “Why should that matter? More magic. More reason for you not to trust me.”

  He swallowed hard. “She said the positivity potion only attracts two people to each other if they have the potential to be soul mates.”

  “Potential. That’s the keyword. It doesn’t make you fall in love.” She started to cry then, tears winding in rivers down her cheeks. Pink with embarrassment, she looked away, her red waves sweeping forward to conceal her face. Logan’s heart ached.

  “But sometimes you do,” he said softly.

  “Yes.” She swallowed and wiped her face with the bell sleeves of her dress. “I did. I fell in love with you, Logan. I couldn’t help it. I tried to stop myself, but it just happened. And I couldn’t tell you how or why because I knew when you found out that magic brought me to your door, you’d hate me.”

  He propped himself up, feeling stronger, as a result of the tea or the rest or the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he wasn’t sure. Seeing her cry brought out protective instincts he didn’t know he had. “Polina, look at me. Look. At. Me.”

  She blinked long dark lashes at him.

  “Do you love me? Genuinely, without the aid of magic?”

  She wrapped her long red hair around her hand. “You can’t bring about real love by magic. I love you, Logan. I know you don’t love me back. It happens sometimes. I knew the risks when I used the potion. A witch doesn’t cast her heart outside her body without knowing it might never come back. You must believe me. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “Did you use the potion to try to control me? To use me?”

  “Use you?” Polina shook her head. “Can’t you see? I’ve given you my soul. You own me, Logan. I’m yours. I’d do anything for you.”

  “Anything?”

  Her eyebrows pulled in and up. She nodded once.

  “Put your hands on your head.”

  “Logan…”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  She put her hands on her head.

  “Get on your knees.”

  She climbed off the bed and knelt on the mirrored floor, her red hair wild around her shoulders, her hands still on her head. With a grunt, he pushed himself up and crawled from the bed. He shuffled forward and gathered her hair in his hand, tugging her head back so she was looking up at him with wet eyes. Part of him hated to do this to her, to overpower her like this by force of will. But another part, an insistent voice at the back of his brain, had to do it. There was a difference between saying a thing and doing it, living it. He had to be sure what she said wasn’t just words.

  “Will you tell me the truth about what magic you use on me?”

  She swallowed. “Yes. I need to tell you… I…”

  “You what?”

  “I prepared you for the caretaker spell,” she blurted. “Just in case. I wasn’t going to use it without your permission. I was afraid you might die. I wanted to be able to save you if I had to.”

  “The caretaker spell. You’d make me like Rick? Give me your immortality?” A chill climbed his vertebrae.

  “Yes.”

  “But you didn’t finish it.”

  “No. It’s a three-step spell. I only did the first part.”

  Logan blew out a deep breath in relief. “Why didn’t you finish it?”

  “You survived on your own. Besides, I didn’t want to do it without your permission. I couldn’t bind you to me for eternity without it.”

  “And you won’t use magic on me without my permission in the future?”

  She shook her head.

  He released her hair.

  “Please, Logan, I swear to you, I’m not like Tabetha. Can’t you see that? I’m kneeling in front of you. I’m yours.” She gripped his hips, eyes pleading with him.

  He grabbed her wrist. “I came here tonight to tell you something, and you’re going to listen to me.” He shook her gently. “I love you.”

  Her lips parted, and she searched his face.

  “I’ve loved you since the first night we spent together, maybe longer. I loved you the day I told myself I didn’t, even when I thought you’d manipulate
d the emotion out of me. I couldn’t help myself. I loved you when I left my condo to come here tonight, and even though I almost died because your life is a royally fucked-up trap for a human like me, I love you now.”

  Her tears flowed freely, and goddamn it if he wasn’t a little shaken up too.

  “Is this happening?” she asked.

  He nodded. “It is. I think it’s time we both gave ourselves permission to take a chance on each other. We deserve a shot. Can’t we try to make it happen?”

  Polina leaned forward and pressed her lips to his lower abdomen. He pulled her up off her knees and kissed her properly. “Polina?” he said into her mouth.

  “Yes, Logan.”

  “I know this isn’t romantic, but my face hurts. In fact, everything hurts. I think I need a hospital.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s too dangerous. My forest is crawling with werewolves, and I’m too weak from healing you to carry you using gold dust. But if it is any consolation, I can tell you are not going to die tonight. Your soul is firmly entrenched in your body.”

  He nodded. “That’s good news.” He looked around the room at the cold glass reflecting his swollen body from every angle.

  “Can we get out of this room?”

  She smiled. “Absolutely.” She threaded her fingers into his and led him toward one of the walls. Before he knew what was happening, he was walking through the silver, stepping into a normal-looking bedroom with warmer, homey accouterments. She guided him to pale gray sheets and climbed in beside him.

  Pain or no pain, he welcomed her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her hair. As her breath evened out, he wondered at how easily she slipped into sleep. The night had not been easy for her either.

  “God help me, but it wouldn’t be the worst thing to be bound to you for eternity,” he whispered. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, blinked twice, and fell back asleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Morning

  Polina awoke tucked into Logan’s side, her palm resting on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heart was reassuring. He was stronger, healthier. The swelling had gone down, although one side of his face was still bruised. Now that she was rested, she’d complete the healing spell. He’d be as good as new by the time she sent him home. And she would send him home. It wasn’t safe for him to be here.

  Alex and his pack were going to pay for this. She planned to contact Silas and confirm the Bloodright pack was searching for the dragon fae amulet. With any luck, the werewolf council would find a way to collect him presently. She pushed herself up and reached for her wand.

  “What do you plan to do with that?” Logan asked, his green eyes burning into her.

  She trailed her fingers through his hair. “I was going to take care of that nasty bruise on your cheek.”

  He pushed himself up on his elbows. “Were you going to ask my permission or simply shove your wand against my person?”

  She balked. “It’s just a healing spell. The same one I used to save you last night. Nothing new. Completely innocuous.”

  He sat up the rest of the way, pushing back the comforter. “Don’t you get it, Polina? It’s not that I’m not grateful that you saved me from the brink of death, and I do love you and trust you, but I want you to treat me as an equal. If you truly love me, you’ll respect that I have a choice and ask my permission before pulling the ol’ hocus-pocus. Even with the simple stuff, okay?”

  She frowned. He was right. Even now, she had the strongest desire to treat him like a child, heal him, force him to eat a healthy breakfast, then wrap him in a protective spell and usher him to his car. But Logan wasn’t a child. Although his human state made him fragile, that didn’t give her the right to take away his free will. He wasn’t a pet or a slave. She’d promised him as much, and she’d meant it.

  “Fine,” she said forcefully. “Logan, would you like to heal naturally, or will you accept my help to hasten the process?”

  Logan blinked at her, eyes flashing over the nightgown she’d changed into while he was sleeping. It was a thigh-length cream-colored silk with spaghetti straps, comfortable but revealing now that she thought about it. He swallowed and licked his lips.

  “I’ll take the magic,” he said.

  She smiled. “Thank the goddess.” She slid to his side of the bed and wrapped her arms and legs around him from behind. He leaned back against her, the back of his head tucking in next to her cheek. Pressing her wand to his chest, she uttered the spell. Energy seeped from her skin, the magic wrapping around him, filling him. The side of his face changed from red-tinged purple to flesh colored. The remaining wound in his chest filled and faded, and an inconspicuous tightness in his torso softened. He sagged into her.

  She removed her wand and slumped against the headboard.

  “Are you all right?” Logan asked.

  “I’m good.” She yawned. “The healing drains me. A witch draws on her own life force to heal. Just give me a minute.” She closed her eyes.

  Logan shifted. His hand stroked through her hair and his lips pressed into her cheek. “Thank you.”

  She opened one eye. “You’re welcome. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to watch you suffer for… I don’t know, how long would it have taken for you to heal?”

  “Three weeks, maybe?”

  “Hmm.” She closed her eyes again.

  “How about I make us some breakfast?” he asked.

  She roused herself and sat up. “Unfortunately, the scones you ate last night were the extent of what was in my cupboard.”

  “Do you have staples? Eggs, flour?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll go to the market once I handle this werewolf situation.”

  “There’s more of a situation than what I saw last night?”

  She nodded. “The pack in my realm is responsible for the murder of the werewolf they found behind your restaurant.”

  “What?”

  “The pack leader is the escaped convict Silas has been looking for. He’s dangerous, and the pack itself is growing larger than normal. Silas thinks the leader’s planning some kind of coup. I’ve agreed to keep them here until Silas can take down the alpha and assimilate the pack.”

  “Fuck that!” Logan yelled.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Silas knows that you have a murderous escaped convict outside your back door and he thinks it’s appropriate to leave him here until he can get his act together? No fucking way. I don’t want you near that guy.”

  Polina stared at Logan’s finger, pointed at her chest. “Are you concerned for my safety?”

  “Yes! Aren’t you? Did you see that thing that almost ate me last night?”

  “I did. And I sent him to hell. I’m immortal. You don’t have to worry about me.” Polina smiled sweetly, heart warmed by the idea he would worry about her.

  “Tabetha was immortal and you and Grateful killed her.”

  “True. I can be… dismantled, but it would take an extremely powerful magical creature to do it. Not a werewolf. Believe me, I have this under control. They can’t hurt me.” She stood and ran her hands down his outer arms.

  “I don’t like it. I—”

  Polina placed a hand on either side of his face. “Let me see if I can find a way to comfort you.” She kissed him long and slow until she could hear his heart pound within his chest. His hands smoothed over the line of her spine, cupped her thigh, and pulled her on top of him.

  “You’re distracting me from my point.”

  She ground against the hard length of him beneath her. “I think I found your point.”

  He moaned.

  “I have a suggestion,” she said. “How about a shower and then breakfast at the diner in Stowe?”

  “Mhmm,” he said, roiling his hips and pressing himself into her.

  Now that Logan was healed and hers, there were a few more distractions Polina had in mind.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  A New Day
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br />   Logan followed Polina into her bathroom but halted inside the archway that served as a door. The room gave new meaning to the term open concept. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a clear view into the forest beyond where a grazing doe twitched her ears and stared at him inquisitively.

  “Don’t mind her,” Polina said. “She’s after the blackberries.”

  “This is… exposing.”

  “The forest directly around Aurorean House is enchanted. No one can enter without my invitation, other than the natural wildlife.”

  Aside from the wall of windows, the floor was stone as were the other three walls. A partition provided a natural separation to the room. He stepped deeper into the space and discovered the rest of the fixtures behind it. “So you shower and, uh, everything else, right here in the open, huh?”

  She smirked. “Does that bother you?”

  In fact, it did give him a mild case of the heebie-jeebies, but looking at her, the silk of her nightgown straining against her nipples, he wasn’t about to complain. He shook his head.

  “Good,” she said with a smile. She approached the wall and placed her hand on a stainless steel pad. The shower turned on, water raining from a metal square in the ceiling. The spray misted across the ivory silk, revealing the petal-pink areolas at the tips of her pert breasts. His gaze drifted from her creamy shoulder to her elbow, the curve of her waist, the round and full mound of her hip, and the dark triangle of her sex barely visible through the fabric.

  Everything inside Logan became singularly focused. Mine. His mind blanked and his legs carried him across the room to her of their own accord. Fingers digging into her hair, he cradled her neck. The kiss he gave her was hard, pressing, even invasive—a flag of ownership planted in the territory of her mouth. It wasn’t gentle, and he did not ask permission. She would be justified if she pushed him away.

  But she didn’t. She melted into the kiss, sagging against his chest in surrender. Polina was a warrior. An immortal. She could crush him with a flick of her little finger. But all the signals she was tossing his way were the exact opposite of her nature. She made him feel like a king.