by Jamie Magee
A gasp left Adair then her eyes welled.
In a breath Gwinn was before her, seeing no reason to hide her immortal skill of speed any longer.
“You…d-died,” Adair sputtered as she threw her arms around Gwinn and pulled her tight against her. It didn’t matter she was standing before her, strong, immortal, powerful—she’d died. She had suffered, and Adair was oblivious to the fact it happened.
The distance Gwinn had toward her over the last week made sense in some way now.
Gwinn hugged her back with force that was now her own. “I was born.”
Three words, and Adair’s entire perspective changed on the matter of immortals. Before, with her knowledge of the craft, of the balance of nature, it seemed unnatural, cruel, as if it would rob the soul from its path. I was born. Gwinn was born, they all were, into a new life—one where only those who fought for it remained.
“Did-did it hurt?” Adair asked, leaning back as she brushed her hands down Gwinn’s cheeks that were wet with tears, too.
“I don’t remember the pain, not really. I remember the fight, though. I-I knew I was meant for this then, but I still don’t know how or why I knew.”
Adair nodded teary eyed. “I would have kicked your ass if you’d died.”
Adair breathed in her tears, regained her composure. The feeling of betrayal, how lost she was, was apparent in her watery green eyes.
“I know you don’t remember all the Sons, Adair, but they remember you. They grieved for you. For your family.”
She shook her head as now angry tears came to her. “I’m a fucking witch—why would Finley not tell me this stuff? Did she really think I would love Talley less if I knew then?”
Gwinn bit her lip, trying to keep her own emotions at bay. The grief she felt hanging in the air, rippling from Adair, was enough to steal anyone’s breath.
“Shade had said they wanted you to have some sense of normalcy, but at the same time they already knew you were one of them, you’d be in this family until the end of time.” Gwinn’s eyes searched hers. “You have to know how precious life is in order to respect immortality. A child with no fear of death…it would have altered the regard you have for the craft that was born in you.”
Adair nodded harshly, wanting to move past this. The more she thought of it the worse she felt. She had to focus herself on what had to be done now.
“I think the barter with Akan is on the table to be voted on, too,” Gwinn said, sliding on the counter, looking down and grim as Adair started to put herself together.
After a few tense moments Adair spoke. “I really am sorry, Gwinn. I trust you. It was just Miriam knew where the book was, and she had a car. I could have solved this, that was the plan.” Adair grimaced. “And you were distant. I know now why, but I didn’t then.”
Gwinn rolled her eyes. “You had Dagen who could zap you anywhere and would have gotten you what you asked for.”
“And promptly told King and Reveca. Who I don’t know how to comprehend just now.”
“Fair.”
“Forgiven?”
“Always.”
More tense moments passed.
“I said I was sorry.”
Distractedly Gwinn asked, “Have you heard of Voyagers?”
As Gwinn spoke the entire house seemed to applaud, the lights went off and on.
“Nope. But it sounds like someone has. Why?”
“Just some research I’m working on.” Sheepishly she glanced at Adair. “I found the term in the book the haunt keeps throwing at you. I have to dig more.”
Adair bit her lip in indecision. “Let’s go down to the lounge, deal with the vote thing then we’ll look at that book—maybe I can ask Dagen to get the grimoire I was after.”
“It’s here and spelled to you, in the library. I’ll head back there. If you need me, call.”
“Wait,” Adair said as Gwinn reached the door. “If they’re voting, everyone’s back.”
Gwinn nodded once.
“Shade is home,” Adair said, pointing out the obvious—Shade was home.
A dim half grin came but sadness filled her green eyes. “Yeah.”
“What the hell happened?”
“Nothing. That’s the point.”
“Are you fighting with him?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing with him. He came home, looked in my direction—I think he almost smiled—then he went into the lounge.”
“And?”
“And yeah, I don’t know who or what he’s doing in there.”
“Ouch,” she breathed.
“Truth.”
“A lie,” Adair said, trying to convince the pair of them. “He’s briefing his Club and now apparently voting on my fate.”
“Right.”
“That’s it. This shit ends tonight.”
Gwinn sighed. “Your last escape plan landed you in the bed for three days. Can we at least try and read this stuff I found before we chase dead men who want to mate with you?”
“Three days,” Adair said, lost as ever. “Not what I meant.” She glanced over Gwinn. “I told you once to stop wearing those sheets—where are your clothes? Get dressed. The right way.”
Gwinn glared, a look that was familiar to Adair—she had always been about business first. Sacrifice.
“I don’t know how Star or Reveca or anyone else hasn’t made this clear to you, but you have to be bold to be an Ol’ Lady. Meek doesn’t fit here. Hiding who you are doesn’t either. The reason Clubs like this exist is so you can be real.” Adair lifted her chin. “You are confusing the fuck out of Shade and you need to put a stop to it.” She sighed. “I can tell you care, Gwinn. I can tell it’s different with him.”
“It is,” Gwinn admitted. “But I’m going to take your side, and he’s going to take Judge’s. We have a universe between us—clearly I do not get the culture of this Club the way you do.”
Adair narrowed her stare on Gwinn. “You’re fighting about me—Judge?”
No answer.
“Well, that’s just bullshit.” She stepped up to Gwinn. “That is my business. I’m going to handle it—you handle yours.” She nearly glared. “I’ve watched you wait for him—I told you what to do when you found your man. If you have any loyalty at all to me at the very least listen to my advice.”
“You were talking about Judge then,” Gwinn countered. “You felt him even though you didn’t know it.”
“Maybe so.”
“Then why are not taking your own advice?”
Adair swallowed harshly. “It’s not that simple, Gwinn. I wasn’t the one to leave. I didn’t give up.”
“And if he asked you back?”
Adair moved her stare from Gwinn. “I have entirely too much shit to deal with right now to think about it.” She glanced to her. “Dress for who you are, what you want. Burn those damn dresses.”
“This sounds like a good way to piss him off.” Gwinn was in fact sure it would piss Shade off. She was positive he liked her meek innocence and knowing so burned, for it wasn’t all true, who she was.
“Would you rather him be pissed and holding the truth or pleased and holding a lie—show him who you are, be brutally honest.” She lifted a brow. “And be possessive.”
Minutes later they were both dressed. Gwinn was in short, dark shorts. She was wearing a halter top that barely made it past her ribs and a lace top that loosely covered it. Her boots were high and offered some height, along with some confidence.
Adair wasn’t far from the style Gwinn was wearing; jean shorts instead of black, and a vintage top that shaped her chest and flowed outward barely hitting her hips.
In an effort to cover the passion marks that Judge had presumably left on her neck, her long raven hair was down. The locks sliding across her neck and arms were driving her mad. Her skin was still wickedly sensitive, distractingly so.
During their somewhat rush to dress, Gwinn had told Adair everything she had missed, what Jade and Miriam had done, what the
reaction was—what she knew of the plan to tame Talley and the odd conversation with Cashton that led her to what she had found out about Voyagers.
The second they stepped on the front porch it seemed as if the entire Boneyard looked their way.
Adair felt her body stirring. A rush that was lost to her before she awoke was tormenting her now for no reason. Which was not a good thing as she saw the hungry stares looking in her and Gwinn’s direction.
“By the way,” Gwinn said a bit weakly. “I kinda sorta spelled Judge.”
“What do you mean?” Adair said, snapping into focus.
“I told you I didn’t want him to leave because it would be hell for Shade—it was a little spell, it just made him remember, um, well, remember you.”
“You didn’t happen to spell me too, did you?” Adair asked as the very word Judge stimulated her body.
“No. I think you’ve had you fill of spells. Jade being countered by King, I’m surprised you rose when you did. I’m sure you’re a bit sensitive too—be careful.”
“Right,” Adair said slowly. “Head up. You own this place, Gwinn—you understand? That’s how you walk, simple smiles, your eyes say more than your lips. Make them wonder what the hell you’re thinking.”
Chapter Three
Just outside the lounge, Scorpio was leaning against the doorframe laughing and joking with some guy that Adair hadn’t bothered to meet yet. One glance from Scorpio sent him away; clearly he wanted a private word with Adair.
Gwinn urged Adair to keep walking, but Adair ignored her and held her ground. She nodded for Gwinn to go on, which left her alone with Scorpio.
“You look whole,” she said, letting her gaze move over him.
A sultry smile snaked across his lips and his emerald stare dipped over her. “I could say the same ‘bout you, princess.”
“Let’s cut the shit. Are you in danger?”
“Me?” Scorpio said, lifting a brow.
“You heard me. Fighting any ghosts, evil? Pissed off some chick that wants you dead, like not immortal dead? Anyone strong enough to imprison you?”
Scorpio nearly laughed. “Every day, princess, that’s the running script of my life.” His eyes searched hers. “You’re still not over this idea of yours are you?”
“Just trying to understand a lot of things. I need to cross this off my list if it’s nothing.” Even though I know it’s not…
“I spoke to Judge.”
Adair turned crimson, remembering Judge’s threat to tell Scorpio his name was the one she spoke when she awoke.
“We’re back to where we were, eh?” Scorpio said quietly.
“Where was that?”
Scorpio licked his bottom lip, tasting the lust he felt pouring off her, sensing who it was reaching for, and clearly sensing Judge’s outright claim on her. Something happened behind closed doors between the pair of them and it all but sealed this claim back to its original strength.
“You know what I mean. You accepted him.”
“Did I?” she asked, feeling the marks on her neck flame as if in agreement. “Is that what he told you? Signed, sealed, and delivered. No longer a question if I’m his property or not? Tell me, should I bow to the men here—the ones who rule your little world? I know I shot you, but you could’ve at least tried to defend my honor more valiantly,” Adair ridiculed.
Scorpio narrowed his stare on her. “You’re confused, princess. ‘Round here women rule the world. And then, as now, I have fought on your behalf, settling for the service of nothing more than as a friend and defender to you.” His gaze rushed over hers, hoping to find a different solution and coming up with nothing. “Years back you didn’t want my ass, you wanted a revenge fuck.”
“And now,” she bit out.
“And now I’m guessing it’s more of the same—you keep pushing my buttons there, girl, and I’m going to give in. I’m pissed enough ‘bout the way you’re being handled.”
“Handled,” Adair said with a nod to him, proving her point—she was property.
She felt her property owner approach long before she saw him making his way up the hall that led to Church.
Before he had a chance to reach her, she made her way into the bar, hearing whistles coming from random directions.
Star was behind the bar with Gwinn. She glanced at Adair then smirked. “I planned on searching you for drugs but I don’t think that outfit leaves much to the imagination.”
Oh yeah, last time she was here she had drugged this bar into an orgy fest, three days ago apparently.
“Jokes on you, I’m armed and dangerous, babe,” Adair said, proud that her three weapons were apparently hidden well. Adair raised her hands before Star could say a word. “No spells, just brass.”
“Lotta good that’s going to do you,” Star said with a wayward glance over Adair’s shoulder.
Adair didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to face him, look into the seductive lure of those eyes that would make the primmest woman’s panties damp with want.
It was hard before. Now, not assuming what the hell happened between them when she was lost in sleep made it worse.
“We need to talk,” Judge’s deep, baritone voice whispered down her neck.
Adair didn’t have a chance to protest before she felt his hand grip her arm and pull her out into the garage, then further down the hall.
She didn’t struggle because she didn’t want to look weak. Gwinn had made it very clear to her what kind of strength immortals had, the reason bullets were pointless in the long run. Walking with him made it look like it was just as much her idea as his.
Judge leaned her against the wall at the end of the long hall, which was instantly deserted; the same wall he had leaned her against years ago when they had the fight that led them to become one. Adair wasn’t going to let that happen tonight. Fool me once…
It was painful to stare boldly at him, that chiseled jaw, his sharp stare, and those lips that begged to be kissed, owned. And his body, sharp fierce, dominant, demanding—he was a walking fantasy.
“Are we hitting rewind on an old argument?” Adair asked as coldly as she could.
“You remember,” Judge’s words were full of gravel, broken by every emotion there was in the book.
“I’m not property.”
He nearly smiled. She had said the same years before. “I didn’t say you were.”
“No, but apparently it’s your call on blinding my ass, kicking me out of your little world. Why did you do that, Judge?” Because she knew she needed any weapon she could grasp she flung her next words like daggers. “My guess? You needed to get me out of the way so you could go back to your random fucks.”
At once he gripped her arms, his stance towering over her. “Did you send her to me—is this a game to you, Adair?”
“A game?”
Judge’s eyes were cold and fierce. He was pissed at her but wanted her just the same. Apparently sound asleep she had seduced him to the point where he lost his mind. Then when he dared to leave her, save some pride, she spelled him at her doorway, trapping him. Making him remember the ache she always brought to him, the outright fear—fear of losing her. Right now he didn’t know what to think of her—for all he knew, her not being aware was all an act. A witchy game.
“I grieved for you,” he finally said. His thumbs graced her shoulders, sending a soaring sensation through her body.
“You left me,” Adair said, nearly panting now.
His stern expression didn’t falter; the touch he didn’t even realize he was giving her was still swaying across her shoulder as he spoke.
“There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t see your face, count your breaths, listen to the rhythm of your heart.” He swallowed stiffly. “You are my sanity.”
“And you chose to rob me of mine.”
He cursed, and not being able to help it, he pressed his body into hers. “I chose to save you from it, but if madness is what you want. If you want to be sick w
ith revenge, so be it. We’ll be mad together.”
The sound of his deep voice slid down her body, a wicked temptation rich with her own desire.
“I’ll be deciding what’s together, and what’s not.”
He smirked and leaned away. “Adair, everything I have ever done was to protect you.” He eased back a bit more. “I’m sorry.”
Her gaze raced across him, lost as ever. “I have too much to deal with right now to figure you out,” she stated honestly. “You broke me, Judge.”
Within a breath his lips were on hers. Adair went numb, instantly feeling a pulsing energy claim her, a warm vibration sliding over her, life seeping into the cold, dead places of her heart. It took her a second but she kissed him back, determined to make him regret the choices he made.
His powerful lips moved against hers. When she felt his tongue dip into her mouth—own her—she pulled him closer, rocked her body against him, panted for breath when his hands moved over her.
Feeling his hands slide down her, ease over her body, awakening her dormant sexuality made her feel as if she was going to faint. Her mind was hazed. There was nothing else in the universe but her and Judge as far as she was concerned.
The sound of a heavy door opening was the only thing that slowed Judge’s kiss. Seconds later he pulled away.
When the euphoric haze of his touch faded, Adair realized the Church door was open, and Sons along with Reveca were staring back at them.
A sick feeling pitted in her stomach. Her mind told her the kiss was nothing more than a claim he wanted the others to see.
Judge reached to her chin, moved her gaze back to him. “Votes are in, you get your memory back.” His lips twitched in a slight grin. “Unanimous, Dove,” Judge said, guiding her into the room.
Adair did her best to remain calm as she stepped into forbidden territory. Even though she had seen most of those guys, spoken to them, their faces were all a blur in that one anxiety-filled moment.
Judge guided her to the table, lifted her, and sat her upon it. His actions did nothing to nullify her fear that he saw her as property.
Thames was before her. His large body, his piercing stare, his gruff beard, and his near shaved head was threatening. She had no doubt he was lethal, and she had no idea how painful this would be.
