Blood of Night: An Enemies to Lovers Paranormal Romance (Kings of Sterling Book 2)

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Blood of Night: An Enemies to Lovers Paranormal Romance (Kings of Sterling Book 2) Page 26

by Leeah Taylor


  “Hey.” Lucien appeared in the door. “Come downstairs, Chel might have something.”

  Juliette would take anything that might help. Ramsey was already strong and had honed his magic, and it left her at a disadvantage. Especially because he was the perfect hybrid now. Damien, Ollie, and Lucien had speed and strength, but if Ramsey bit one of them, that was it.

  Juliette and Riley met the rest downstairs in the kitchen. A myriad of emotions washed over her when she laid eyes on the open book in front Chelsea.

  “Your mom’s grimoire?”

  Chelsea nodded, glassy-eyed. “I refused to hand it over when they put her in the catacombs.” She swallowed whatever pain was twisted in her expression. “I was thinking last night, what did Elders used to do with young witches that couldn’t contain their magic?”

  “They bound them until they were older,” Juliette said.

  Chelsea nodded. “What if we do the same to Ramsey?”

  “You want to bind the witch in him?” Riley asked.

  “Without his magic, he’s just a wolf vampire hybrid. With three vampires, a werecat, a witch, and Juliette, there’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to take him down,” Chelsea said.

  Juliette was already shaking her head. “That spell is meant to be cast by the Elders, and Louisa isn’t—”

  “No,” Chelsea stopped her. “It’s meant to be cast by more than one witch.”

  And dangerous as hell if done wrong.

  “Does this spell take into account that his magic is different than the typical witch?” Damien asked. “Can it be bound or contained?”

  Chelsea half-shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  He had a point, but they did have at least an equally as unique witch at their disposal. She didn’t want to do it, and she knew Damien would protest. No, he’d demand she didn’t do it, but they had no other options. It was family too, though, and she had just as much right to protect them as Damien did to protect her.

  “What if an equally powerful witch was used as a conduit to bind him?” Juliette asked.

  “Absolutely not.” Damien leveled a hard stare on her from across the counter. “You aren’t getting that close to him again.”

  “Damien, we don’t even have a stone to put the magic into. They were in Val Valena, and that’s gone. And that’s assuming the stone could even hold the magic. I’m really the only logical solution,” she pleaded.

  He pushed his fingers through his hair. “Jules, no.”

  Lucien shook his head. “You barely survived the purge of magic when you put the barrier up. This goes beyond that because you don’t have an altar to even carry some of the power for you.”

  “Not true,” Chelsea said. “Ramsey made all of Sterling an altar the other night. She could draw from that.”

  “That’s no guarantee, Gorgeous.”

  “Why does it have to be you?” Riley asked. “Why can’t you just bind him with the spell?”

  Because nothing was ever that simple.

  “The spell is designed to be cast by two or more witches using a containment stone. One part of the spell is to draw the magic out, and the other part is to trap it in the stone.” Juliette glanced at Damien, but he was shaking his head at her. “If I channel Chelsea while she casts the spell, then I can not only draw the magic out but also use his own body against him to contain it. He has the strength.”

  “Sort of a win-win,” Ollie said. “We can keep him alive to find the other Marquis grimoire, and there’s no way for him to get to a containment stone to break it and release his magic.”

  “No,” Damien demanded. “It’s only a win-win if she survives it. I won’t lose her to him.”

  “Damien.” Juliette went to him. “We don’t have any other choice.”

  Ollie shrugged. “We could kill him.”

  Lucien glared at him. “We talked about this. That is the last possible option. He’s our brother first.”

  “That tried to kill me. And Jules,” Ollie said.

  Juliette sighed. “We still need the Marquis grimoire. He needs to live.”

  “Can you do it, Jules?” Riley asked.

  Swallowing, she nodded. “Yeah, I can do it.”

  And if not, I’ll die doing everything to protect my family.

  Damien glared at her. “You better not die on me tonight, or so help me, I’ll find a way to bring you back, and trust me, Luv, it won’t be pretty.”

  “I’d expect nothing else.”

  46

  Juliette

  A sick feeling bubbled up inside Juliette as Sterling passed by. The line to get into Juleps was already wrapped around the building. She looked down on the other end of the building as they turned towards the Falls and away from Shirley’s. Memories slipping away the further they got out of the city.

  She soaked up every ounce of the city that’d raised her. Shaped her. Littered her history with memories. Good and bad.

  The Falls did nothing to ease the nerves building up between her shoulders, bringing them closer to their fate. They passed Through the Decades, and Juliette felt a squeeze to her shoulder from the backseat. She reached up and gripped to Ollie’s fingers.

  She’d faced the wolves’ repeated assassination attempts. The cold hearts and shoulders from the witches. Met and defeated formidable enemies in her lifetime. Survived Damien Frost. But Ramsey felt different. Something wasn’t adding up, and she didn’t understand, going mad, what it was.

  He was supposed to kill her in the motel but couldn’t. The alley had been the perfect opportunity again. Instead, he was purposely gentle. Conflicted.

  But it was in the Riverfront with the blade buried in her chest and his instructions to get the tip out, that had her more confused. More than any of it, he didn’t want her dead. The worry etched into his expression.

  Damien turned onto the dirt road. The rock in the pit of her stomach grew heavier. I don’t want to die up here tonight. I’m not ready this time.

  Val Valena came into view, stone and rock piled orderly around the site. Bright yellow caution tape marked off what used to be the cemetery. Frost money at work again and restoration underway. Damien parked, and they got out of the SUV.

  “Give me your blade, Riley.”

  Juliette took it and slid it across her palm before handing it to Chelsea.

  Chelsea did the same and held her hand out. “Do not let go.”

  If she broke the connection before the spell was complete, it could kill Chelsea. She took her hand, their blood mixing and igniting the tingling heat of power under Juliette’s skin.

  The brothers, Evan, and Riley formed a loose circle around Chelsea and Juliette.

  “I’ll let go when it’s finished,” Chelsea said.

  “Nothing touches them,” Lucien ordered. He locked onto Juliette, and she could see it in his eyes. She couldn’t let anything happen to Chelsea. No matter the cost. She nodded to reassure him.

  Damien raised his crossbow. Lucien his gun. Riley gripped her knife.

  One last fight.

  They heard it first, a low growl coming from just beyond the ruins of Val Valena. More than one. A handful of silhouettes emerged from the darkness of the woods. Ramsey leading a misfit pack into the light of the moon. Juliette didn’t recognize any of them, but they looked hungry. Raging with a thirst and her blood ran cold. Hybrids.

  “My god, he did it,” she muttered under her breath.

  She was partly impressed, in wonderment of his power. Almost envied it. Ramsey was smart. Acutely, if he was able to unravel the convoluted ramblings of her mother’s spell.

  Ramsey motioned in both directions for his hybrids to circle around them. “This is a few more people than I asked for.”

  “Could say the same,” Damien said.

  “Oh, no, I never said it would be just me.” Ramsey turned his attention to Juliette with a blizzard for a stare. White and blue swirling in it. “Kitten, you made it?”

  There was a genuine warmth of relief in his tone
. Once again confusing the shit out of her.

  She lazily lifted her shoulder. “Nine lives.”

  He motioned toward them. “And what exactly do you think you’ll accomplish inside that circle?”

  “Come and find out.” She smirked. “I’ll be just as gentle as you were.”

  He grinned, and eyes lit up with specks of blue fluttering in the swirling dark gray blizzard, reminding her of her own galaxy.

  “Let’s see, we can get rid of that and that.” Ramsey flicked a finger at Lucien and Damien. The crossbow and gun were ripped from their hands and sent them across the clearing. “Now, do you know what I want?”

  “I really don’t care what you want,” Damien spat. “Adrian was a sperm donor. Nothing more.”

  Ramsey nodded. “You’re right; he was. You seemed to inherit his mean streak though.” He glanced at Juliette. “It’s because I kissed you, isn’t it?”

  Damien clenched his fists at his side. “It’s because you tried to kill her.”

  “And like I told her, that was just business. Quite fond of her actually.”

  “Well, stop it,” Damien growled. “Either finish this or get down on your knees where you belong so we can finish it for you.”

  “You’d kill your own flesh and blood?” Ramsey arched a brow in Lucien’s direction.

  “Doesn’t mean we won’t do everything in our power to stop you,” Lucien said.

  “I have no doubt, big big brother.”

  The odd nickname, almost endearing, rolled off his tongue with admiration. He cared about his brothers, and that only made it worse and puzzling.

  “You can still stop this,” Juliette pleaded. “I told you before. Family means something. Even now.”

  “Sorry.” He shrugged. “I’m too close.”

  “To what?” she asked.

  “Have you not been listening, Kitten?” His gaze softened on her. “Give them exactly as they deserve just as I do. Just like you did.” He trained his dark, raging blizzard on Damien. “And we’re starting, with you.”

  Ramsey lunged, taking Damien by surprise, and sank his bite into his shoulder. Juliette’s stomach churned, and heart lodged in her throat. She went to pull away, and Chelsea’s grip tightened.

  They got it all wrong.

  “Lucien! You’re born wolves,” she yelled.

  Chaos broke out, his newly-turned hybrids, one for each of them, struck out.

  “Chelsea, now!”

  “Blodo sanguinis mei…”

  Chelsea began reciting the spell from memory, the Latin words stirring up a bubbling heat in Juliette’s chest. Magic pooled in her core. The connection at their palms became a blazing inferno.

  She couldn’t go to Damien, and panic tightened in her chest when his knees hit the ground, hunched over and gripping to his mangled shoulder. Ramsey met her stare, blood dripping from the corner of his lips. Purple sparks tangled up her arm. The familiar warning tightened in her chest, but she ignored it. Like always.

  Ramsey grinned, half-shrugged, and started backwards. “Come and get me, Kitten.”

  “Chelsea, hurry!”

  She barely heard the words as she watched Ramsey disappear into the woods. Blood boiled in her veins with the spell, and magic took hold in her core. She needed to get her hands on him to coax his magic out and absorb it and, hopefully, bury it back inside him. But she couldn’t break the connection to Chelsea until she finished, and she wasn’t going fast enough.

  She focused on Damien. The bite wasn’t going to kill him. He was going to turn. She hoped he was going to turn because the alternative was death. But she had no idea what it might look like. Who would he be on the other side of it? Would she lose him all over again? If he did live through the turn, no matter how it looked, she couldn’t lose him again.

  The circle closed in around her and Chelsea as their family fought hybrids that were faster and stronger.

  She gritted her teeth. “Chelsea!”

  Chelsea uttered the last word, and a surge of icy cold blasted through her veins. She jerked free and took off running, breaking the tight circle surrounding them. Dropping to her knees, taking his face in her hands, she met with the dark storm. Pain and restraint warred in his eyes.

  “Don’t you dare die on me, and I’ll be there when you come out of this.” She kissed him, pulled her hand free, and shot up to her feet.

  If anyone called after her, she didn’t hear it. The pounding of her feet against the ground echoed between her ears. Pushing harder to reach even half the speed of a vampire, her legs were on fire the harder she pressed. Chest tightening with another warning that she forced herself to disregard. Ramsey wouldn’t win.

  He might live, but he wouldn’t win.

  She stopped, hands on her knees, sucking gulps of air into her burning lungs. He was out there. She could practically sense him. Something, she couldn’t figure it out, dominated the space. Like the same unfamiliar sensation she’d had in the motel room with him. Knowing Ramsey, he was watching from the shadows.

  She sucked in another breath. “I know you’re there. Aren’t you tired of this game?”

  “Are you?” he asked from behind her.

  She started to turn, and a body collided with hers, backing her up against a tree. Eyes blazing down on her. With his hands roaring in blue hot power, Ramsey wrapped them around her throat. She slammed her hand against his chest, releasing every ounce of magic in her body with the spell laced through it. Blackness crept into her vision as her air ran out. The determination in his gaze fizzled to frustration as his grip loosened. She fought to swallow against the need to suck in a breath.

  He growled. “Why can’t I kill you?”

  “What?” she croaked out.

  His chest rumbled, the sound echoing through the woods, and he squeezed tighter. Blue flames licked up his hands to his wrists, ebbing against her magic.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  She shook her head. The world spun, mouth going dry. She just needed enough focus to draw his magic out, but she needed to breath and keep the world from closing in on her. Ramsey’s grip tightened, crushing down into her windpipe. She reached up and took him by the throat. Agony burned through her lungs, and a scream scraped its way up her throat.

  “You were supposed to die in that motel room,” he gritted out. “Why are you a weakness?”

  She felt the smallest shift in his strength but not enough to shake his grip. Suffocating, a fire erupted in her lungs that were desperate for air. She would die before binding him completely if she couldn’t find a way to breathe. Another scream burned up the back of her throat, using up the little air she had left. Hands glowing so bright with purple it blinded her, a flash of searing heat spread over her skin.

  A set of hands slid over hers, around Ramsey’s throat, and emerald green lit up in her vision. The shift in power she’d needed exploded, rippling through her to the core, and the grip around her throat loosened. She sucked in a breath, filling her lungs with air, and refocused the power of the spell. Channeling his magic out, boiling hot, and directed it back inside him. Burying it deep and locking it away where not even he could get to it.

  A burst of power surged up her arms, energy shooting from her fingertips, and Ramsey flew back. He collided with a tree, hit the ground, and didn’t move.

  Juliette slid down to the ground, chest heaving and body tingling hot with pins and needles. She felt a presence. Someone just beside her and they crouched down into her vision.

  “Are you okay?”

  She stared at him wide-eyed. “What the fuck, Evan?”

  He held his hands up. “Jules—”

  She staggered to her feet, putting space between them. “Were you working with him?”

  Remnants of magic pulsed down through her bones, sapping the last of her strength.

  Evan shot to his feet with a glowing green fury in his eyes. “Are you kidding me? I just saved your ass.”

  She swayed, head spinning, and grabbed f
or the tree. “Says the wolf that just had green flames licking up his arms!”

  Evan came at her, and her trembling hand shot up with sparks of purple. It pulsed in time with her heart, racing in her chest.

  “For fuck’s sake,” he growled. “You’re as stubborn as Dad.”

  The fight drained out of her. “What?”

  “Jules!” Riley’s voice echoed through the trees.

  Evan fisted his hands through his hair. “Jules—”

  “What do you know about my father?”

  She’d searched and come up empty for years. There were no records of a Jonathan Reid. There were no talks of a Jonathan Reid. As far as she knew, her father had died. Abandoned her and never come back.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Jules! Where the hell are you?” Ollie’s voice sounded in the distance.

  Evan swallowed. “Evan Sawyer Reid.”

  Anger, raging hot, erupted in her veins. “And your mother?”

  He looked away. “Jules—”

  “Who!”

  “Ann Marie.”

  She fell back, tears stinging in the corner of her eyes. “When were you born?”

  “Jules, if you give me the chance, I can—”

  “When?” she demanded.

  He sighed. “1849.”

  Why does the truth hurt more?

  Pushing away from the tree, swaying as everything spun, she started toward the voices calling out for her.

  “Right. Well, tell Jonathan thanks for nothing.”

  “Wait,” Evan insisted.

  There was nothing else to be said. Everything tilted, and she stumbled. A hand caught her by the arm, and she jerked way.

  “Jules, you purged too much. Stop being impossible.”

  She’d crawl back to Val Valena if she had to, but she wanted nothing to do with him. Or her father. Evan could take his wolves and leave. She didn’t want any reason for Jonathan to think he was welcome in Sterling. Because he wasn’t.

  “Damn it.” Evan twisted her around. “You owe me long enough to explain.”

  “I don’t owe you anything.” She shook him off with a huff. “Guess Ramsey got something right. He and I aren’t that different. Being the child Daddy didn’t want and all.”

 

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