Midnight Surrender: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Abel, Charlotte

  “What are you doing?” I croaked, fighting for some shred of sanity, but finding it scattered beyond repair.

  “Making sure you keep your promise.” His lips made a torturous journey up my jawline.

  “What promise?” Why was it so hard to speak?

  He nipped lightly on my chin. “The one where you promised to stay if I found you.”

  I would have happily stayed there, against that tree, with him burning the skin off me with his lips, if that tiny spark of rationality hadn’t prickled at the back of my skull.

  “I can’t.” I felt his fingers tighten on my hips. I dampened my lips as he drew back to peer down into my face. “My dad… I can’t leave him. I’m all he’s got.”

  A dent formed between his eyebrows and his head dropped slightly to the side, confused. “But you promised.”

  It was insane! Where was logic? Where was that little voice telling me that this was ridiculous? Why wasn’t I shoving him away and telling him he was crazy if he thought I would actually stay there with him forever?

  “He needs me,” I whispered.

  “I need you.” The pain in his eyes cut me. I was reaching for him before I could stop myself. My fingers curled over his naked biceps. My nails anchored into the taut flesh, fear of him pulling away ripping inside me.

  “I can’t leave him.”

  “Can you leave me?”

  No! God no! The very thought had my fingers tightening and my heart aching. Tears burned my eyes.

  “Please don’t…” I bit my bottom lip, swallowing back the plea. A single tear slipped free.

  “Darling.” He smoothed the wetness away with the pad of his thumb. “Stab me in the heart with a rusty blade, but don’t cry.”

  I pressed a shaky hand to my brow. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “Nothin’s wrong with ya, luv,” he sighed, leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Come on. I’ll take ya home.”

  ****

  “That’s Brad’s car!” Nora exclaimed when I yanked open the passenger side door of the jeep.

  “I’ll bring it back,” I added, “He doesn’t need it right now.”

  The thing was parked a little before Wickety Bridge. I personally would have picked the lime-green Ninja 250, but, as much as I wanted Nora to put her arms around me and cradle me between her thighs, I just didn’t trust myself not to change my mind, not to throw her over my shoulder and take her back into the woods where she belonged.

  “He has the keys,” she said, folding her arms over her stomach and shifting from foot-to-foot.

  “Your doubt wounds me.” I waved a hand to the seat. “Will ya get in?”

  The war raged behind her eyes as she darted glances between me and the open door. I knew the moment I had her when her nose wrinkled and her lips pursed in aggravation.

  “If we get pulled over, I’m telling the cop you kidnapped me and forced me into the car.”

  I laughed. “Deal.”

  She slipped past me and climbed into the seat. I closed the door behind her and rounded the hood to the driver’s side. It took less than a second to hotwire the car. I claimed the wheel and turned to face town, all the while feeling Nora’s gaze on me.

  I could have made her stay. I could have drawn her deeper into the woods where the pull was stronger. I could have had her that very night, but the game wasn’t over. Letting the ancient magic do the work for me, to tempt her, lure her… forcing her home wasn’t the way I wanted her. When she joined me, it would be because she had finally accepted the bond and me. She would come home because she could no longer stand being away. I would wait.

  I pulled up alongside a rusted Camaro and parked. In the next seat, Nora shifted. Her slim fingers twisted in the material of her skirt. Her hesitation told me the sway of the forest still held her. The intensity would eventually calm, but would never go away. She was mine and the forest knew it. It would continue to tempt her to come back, to come home. It was the way of the Fay. We were bound to nature and when we found our mate, they too would be bound to the earth. By right, I could have taken her home, made her forget her human life, her friends and family. I could have let her transcend into her Fay skin which would no longer crave that world, but I didn’t want her like that. I didn’t want to take away her one request—to be with her father. Even if as a Fay she would forgive me, I wanted her to accept her new life her way. I had no doubt she would. It was as much a part of her now as I was. I just had to wait.

  Our footsteps broke the quiet as I walked her to the door. She watched her feet the way a mountain climber watches each foothold on a steep cliff. I watched her from the corner of my eyes, her emotions rolling off her, crashing into me through the bond. I felt the swell of nerves, confusion… worry. The later perked my curiosity.

  “Thanks for the ride… in a stolen car.” She mumbled the last part so I was certain I wasn’t supposed to hear it.

  I felt my lips twitch. “My pleasure.”

  Her teeth caught her bottom lip, and I took a step back, resisting the temptation to pry it free and claim it myself.

  She took several steps towards the door, hand reaching for the knob. She paused, looked at me, that worry blistering in her eyes. “Will I…?” She stopped, closed her eyes and shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll see you around.”

  I waited until the door closed behind her before letting myself answer, “Oh you will indeed.”

  ****

  The stool creaked. It groaned. It creaked again. Then groaned. My biology partner, a lanky boy with braces peered over at me, question mangled with impatience behind his glasses. I stopped my shifting. Instead, my foot took up an erratic patter against the laminate. My pencil rapped against my open book. I shifted forward again. The stool creaked.

  “Do you need the bathroom?” Stan, my partner, hissed.

  I flashed him an apologetic wince. “Sorry.”

  He went back to his note-taking. I went back to watching the clock.

  It had been the longest three days in history since Halloween. The weekend oozed like thick tar from a bottle. Every second passed with agonizing slowness. But instead of the smothering lethargy ending there, it followed me into the week. Every class seemed five hours long and even my lunch period didn’t end fast enough. I wanted to leave. I wanted to get away from the white walls, the persistent chatter, and the confinement. I felt suffocated. Tears of frustration burned behind my eyes. The stool groaned. Please hurry! I silently pleaded.

  I was the first one out of my seat and out the door the second the bell rang. Students were just filing out of their classes and I was already at my locker, fumbling, cursing and fighting with the lock. The tears were so close now. I punched my locker, gave it a sharp kick, and gave up. Leaving behind my jacket and flute, I ran blindly out of the school with my biology books squished into my aching chest.

  The moment the crisp, autumn air struck my face, I closed my eyes and whimpered. My limbs trembled as I drew in the scent of rotting leaves and pumpkins. But it wasn’t enough. It was like trying to breathe through a paper bag. The air was hot, stale… lacking. I couldn’t pull enough of it into my lungs. Part of me wondered if this was how a fish felt out of water.

  I staggered down the steps, dazed, miserable, feeling like I wanted a deep, dark hole to crawl into. The spiraling depression made no sense when only that Friday, I had been fine. Maybe I was coming down with something.

  The thought was still churning in my mind when the wind shifted and I was rushed by the scent of honeysuckles, moss, freshly turned dirt, rain and sunbaked bark. My body was turning, spinning, pulsing even before my mind could catch up to the meaning behind the trickle of liquid gold that warmed the chill soaking my bones. I was running, pushing my way through the crowd. My heart drummed inside my skull. I rounded the red-bricked building, and there he was, leaning against a black Firebird, hands tucked into black cargos. He wore a t-shirt in faded black and his hair was down his back in a waterfall of ebony. M
y heart leapt in my chest.

  “Keane!” It was no more than my lips forming his name and he was more than twenty feet away, but his head came up. His face softened into a smile, and I was running again. “Keane!”

  He caught me with little effort when I launched myself into his waiting arms. My books crashed to the asphalt beneath our feet, forgotten. His arms locked around me. His fingers closed in my hair, pressing my face into the curve of his neck. I fisted the back of his shirt, grappling him close.

  He smelled like sin. He felt like heaven. I had never felt more found, more complete. The hovering dark cloud vanished, and I was drowning in pure sunshine.

  I was home.

  “You came back!” I breathed into the front of his shirt.

  “I never left.”

  My head dropped back so I could peer into his face. “I never saw you.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked in a lopsided grin. He smoothed a hooked finger over my cheek. “You weren’t paying attention.”

  Realization flooded my neck and face with heat. I pulled reluctantly out of his embrace. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  He tucked a stray coil of hair behind my ear. His fingers grazed my cheek and my spine erupted in shivers. “I missed ya, too, luv. Severely.”

  “What are you doing here?” I whispered.

  He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Hoping you’d give a lad a chance and let him take ya home.”

  My brow quirked. “Depends, who’s the lad?” Was I really flirting?

  In a single fluid motion that I never saw coming, I was backed into the side of a truck, caged by the hands Keane anchored on the truck bed on either side of my head. His nose bumped mine. His breath tangled with mine. I fell into his eyes, chips of onyx against a golden face.

  “You’ve destroyed me,” he murmured. His gaze dropped to my lips, parting them. They lifted again to mine, burning me with the hunger glaring back.

  I trembled. “I’m sorry.”

  One hand lifted, rested on the side of my face. His thumb swept over my lips, making them tingle. “And just what are ya sorry for, mm? For completing me? For giving my bleak existence meaning?” When I could only stare in stunned silence, he smiled gently. “No, luv. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

  I blinked out of my speechlessness. “That isn’t normal you know.”

  He drew back. “What’s that?”

  “What you’re talking about.” I moistened my lips. “We met once for like an hour. I shouldn’t feel so lost without you. I’m not one of those girls who fall…” I trailed off, realizing where that was heading.

  “Maybe that’s because you hadn’t met the right man.”

  “And you’re the right man?”

  There was no smile. No twinkle in his eyes, just a hot inferno that left no room for doubt. “Yes!”

  For a moment, my lungs forgot how to inhale and I choked on my gasp. My heart tripped.

  He closed the precious distance between us. My head fell back as he loomed over me, tall, dark and powerful. My senses spiked, blazed hot. He drowned me in his eyes, distracting me from noticing until his fingers grazed the length of my arm that he’d raised a hand. Every inch of skin from shoulder to wrist blistered. My hand was swallowed in his, raised and cherished beneath his lips. I inhaled sharply. My body swayed towards his. With deliberate pecks, he slipped his lips over my knuckles.

  “What—what are you doing?” I honestly didn’t mean for it to come out weak and breathy and full of begging, but he was nipping on each cap with his teeth, sending slivers of fire up my arm.

  Never breaking stride, he turned my hand over, trailing his lips from my palm to the pulse inside my wrist. His gaze lifted, pinned my face. Then, carefully, but with a firmness that shot heat to my curling toes, his free hand slipped beneath the weight of my hair, cupped the back of my skull and dragged my body forward to fuse into his.

  My heart tripped. “Keane…”

  His eyes darkened. “I’ll show you just how much I mean it.”

  Then he kissed me.

  The world dissolved in a beautiful hue of shimmering gold. His lips, his arms were the only things keeping me in this world when my very soul threatened to be swept away. An excruciating burst of heat swelled up through me, a river of molten lava replacing my blood. When I gasped and broke the lock of his lips from mine, I half expected to be up in flames.

  “Not yet.” He bared his teeth. “I’m not finished!”

  I had barely gulped three greedy breaths when his mouth claimed mine with the hunger of a condemned man given his last meal. His kiss was harder, possessive, like an animal devouring its prey. He gave me no chance to breathe, to think, to even find a footing as he tore the very ground out from under me.

  When my knees buckled, his arms were there, bands of steel crushing me to his rigid frame. His fingers curled in my hair and my face was dragged back from his. He was breathing as hard as I was and he looked fierce, untameable… dangerous.

  “Tell me now you don’t want this.” He nipped sharply on my bottom lip. “That you don’t want me, and I’ll walk away. It’ll kill me, no doubt, but I’ll do it for you.”

  It was the walking away that cracked my heart into my ribs. It wasn’t passion or excitement this time. It was cold, crippling terror. The image of him, his back, taking steps away from me…

  “I don’t want you.” I grabbed handfuls of his shirt when his body went rigid against mine and his jaw tensed. “Not only,” I dampened my lips, dared myself to keep his gaze, “I need you, Keane. I know it’s insane and it makes no sense, but—”

  His mouth was two pieces of red hot coals burning into mine, eating my words, my soul. I was mindless with him, lost in him and just when I was trickling into a hot, gooey puddle, he tore away.

  “I need ya, too.”

  ****

  I held her, bathing in her scent of lilacs and promised myself that I would tell her. Not today, but soon. I would ease her into the new future waiting for both of us. I would care for her, love her, be with her. She will never want for anything, because she was mine now and I wasn’t going to let anything change that.

  Learn more about Airicka Phoenix and The Touch Series at http://airickaphoenix.com/Author/?cat=10.

  Get The Touch Series now

  Shadow Slayer The Lost Excerpt By Laura A. H. Elliott

  The Seven Cities of Gold

  I am the Shadow Slayer. I will live five hundred years. Five hundred years ago Columbus was about to discover the New World and ice cream hadn’t been invented yet. Five hundred years from now humans will most likely populate space and have cures for the incurable. Maybe by then, a five hundred year life won’t seem so epic.

  I stare deeply into my boyfriend’s gorgeous golden eyes. When I’m granted my reward, my Last Life, Drew will be long since dead and we will have lived one thousand years between us. Drew’s five hundred years only reveal themselves in his kiss. He kisses like a man who’s lived countless lifetimes and discovered the only thing that matters. Nothing about Drew says he’s just begun his Last Life.

  He’s someone girls notice under the Friday night lights––especially the way he pulls off the winning play week after week. And, if you’re like most girls you’d die to just talk to him and even concoct ways to make that happen, including circling back in line again when he and his friends walk up to the snack shack, or walk an extra loop around the parking lot in search of a ride, hoping to run into him.

  Tomorrow’s game is against LT. We hate LT. I don’t know why, it’s just the way it is. Freshmen sort of have to accept things like arch rivals. Before I found out what I am, before I met Drew, I felt like freshman was tattooed on my forehead. It’s kind of cool how everyone at school, make that everyone in town, wants to beat LT.

  Drew and I snuck onto the football field ten minutes ago. It’s pretty epic scaling the stadium gates. I’m afraid of heights, but Drew and I climbed the chain link side by side. I feel like
I can do anything when he’s with me. He’s the kind of guy a girl would break into school with and not care about what punishment might come down after. I love lying here in the empty stadium with Drew, like this. Like everything’s normal. Like we’re normal.

  “It’s easy, Roxie,” Drew says, lying beside me, inches away.

  “What is?” I shift a little in the grass and turn to face him.

  “Killing the moon.” It’s the night before the big game against LT, but Drew’s a million miles away.

  “If you say so.” I shiver and stare at the huge goal post above us, ghostly against the night sky. He knows how badly I’ve wanted to kill the moon. How important it is. I’ve been hounding him non-stop about it since homecoming––the night my life changed––when he spoke of it at the bonfire.

  We are said to kill the moon because its phases are meaningless to us. Time doesn’t matter to us.

  I’m not sure I’m ready. I mean, not now. Not this second. Not on a Thursday night. Such a normal night. I like normal. Moon killing seems more of a Saturday night thing, I guess. Saturday nights are meant for the extraordinary. I stroke my arm and feel the rough edges of my massive scar. There’s not enough Mederma in the world to completely heal my first battle wound.

  “Come on!” Drew says, standing over me in just the right spot so that the goal posts stick out of his head like huge horns. I laugh. But he gets all jumpy, searching the bleachers as if he expects to be surrounded. Just like he did at homecoming before he took me to the enchanted labyrinth. When he told me what I was. I love the way he’s looking at me now––desperate and dire.

  Drew holds out his hand and I grab a hold of it. He reaches down and grabs my other hand, tugging on my arms. I lift off the grass, out of the end zone and into his arms. He pulls me in close like his shadow had when we danced.

  Shadows want to be human more than anything.

  I hug Drew, exploring his perfect body. I never want us to be separated again. But we will. I’ll see all I love die.