by J. N. Colon
Caleb gripped my shoulders to steady me. “Did you see anything?”
I swallowed past the hard, sickening lump in my throat. “He didn’t have anything to do with the murders, not in this particular instance anyway.” Son of a bitch. We were back to square one.
Lachlan nodded and downed the rest of the shimmering blue wine, lines tightening around his mouth. He’d wanted it to be Hugo.
So sorry to disappoint.
I pivoted and stomped toward the stairs, my head throbbing with every beat of my heart.
“Thorn, where are you going?” Caleb called.
I ignored him and ascended the winding staircase before he saw the tears beginning to brim over. My hand clutched at the chilly railing when the scenery blurred out of focus. Haunting memories of my recent kills slithered over my vision.
Batista had truly been an accident. I hadn’t used much magic in six months, and the threat of my death at the demon’s hands had shattered my control. Rick, I could have fought him with my other witchy talents. And then Mila, her death was the worst. I’d wanted to drain her, to feel her undead life slip away moment by moment.
I’d salivated for it.
Burning acid crawled up my throat. If only the vampires had been the culprits, but this nightmare was far from over. I’d have to use these death powers again, feeding the darkness until it consumed me whole.
The walls spun by the time I stepped onto the landing with shaky legs. My fingers slipped from the banister, and a gasp tumbled out as I fell backward. Magic sizzled down my arms and into my hands, but too much haze filled my brain.
Shit. I was going to plummet down every single step.
Iron arms pulled me against a solid wall of muscle, stopping my downward trajectory.
“Good thing I followed you.” Caleb’s husky voice sent heat through my veins. “Or you’d be at the bottom of the staircase, and that marble floor isn’t soft.” He moved onto the landing and turned me toward him as those intense eyes—the color of frozen moss—studied me.
I broke out of his grasp before he could feel the heat spreading over my skin. “You would know. How many people have you tossed down these stairs?” A shuddering breath blew out, and I scrutinized a silvery vein in the marble floor, too shaken to bear his scrutiny.
“More than I can count, but I’d never dream of doing that to you.” He lifted my chin to force me to meet his gaze and then ran his finger over the thin white scar slicing my eyebrow. “Well, maybe only once or twice. You are a witch.”
I smacked his hand away. “And you’re an arrogant fae with an ego the size of Texas. I’d do just about anything to get out of this stupid partnership with you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” His lips thinned. “Unfortunately, we’re stuck together. And you’re wasted. I’m going to help you to your room.”
“You’re the last person I want help from.” Actually, I didn’t want help from anyone because it usually came with a giant price.
He shook his head and stepped too close, invading my personal space. “We both know what you want from me.” His arm hooked around my waist as I began to sway, and he pulled me into him. Heat permeated the air between us.
My stomach fluttered uncontrollably.
Nope. This was not happening. I could not handle the Unseelie prince’s relentless teasing right now. “Leave me alone.”
“No can do, Rose Thorn.” Caleb sank his teeth into his bottom lip as his gaze languidly roamed every inch of my body. “Not until I take you back to your room.”
“Take me to my room and then what?” Flames licked at my already flushed cheeks. Did those words really just fall out of my mouth?
A silky chuckle vibrated the prince’s chest. “I guess we’ll see when we get there.”
Chapter 17
I struggled into a sitting position in my bed, an invisible mallet pummeling my skull from the ludicrous amount of fae wine I chugged last night. My gaze lowered to the large black T-shirt swallowing my frame. A familiar citrus scent infused the fabric.
My heart took a flying leap into my throat.
Why the hell was I wearing Caleb’s T-shirt?
I jumped out of bed and tripped on my discarded jeans, stubbing my toe. Damn it! Hopping on my uninjured foot did nothing to dull the pain.
Did Caleb help me to my room last night? Did he stay? Did something happen?
My bra dangled from the lampshade in the corner. Warts on a witch.
Chills and hot flashes ran over me as I imagined all the different scenarios that could have occurred.
Hazy memories of last night sped to the surface. The vampires were not responsible for the murders, or if they were, Mila and her posse hadn’t been involved. I’d used my gift of death for nothing. We were back at the beginning with no leads.
Images of dancing with the angelic-looking demon at Shade flashed through my mind, setting off a whole new wave of hot flashes. Had I really done that in front of Caleb?
The twisted dagger I saw in Link’s mind when my powers accidentally latched onto him suddenly bombarded my thoughts. I raked my fingers through my gnarled hair. Something about the ancient weapon nagged at the edges of my consciousness. Had I seen it before? Maybe in a grimoire in Ellexia’s reliquary?
That really wasn’t important right now. Finding out what happened with Caleb was priority number one.
The bright morning sun—way too damn chipper for my liking—streamed in through the windows to the left of the stone fireplace. Of course the one time the clouds decided to take a break I had a wicked hangover.
I flicked my wrist, closing the white gossamer curtains and then the heavy drapes. A throb pierced the center of my forehead from the movement.
Why did I drink so much?
I searched the elegant white room for anything of Caleb’s that might give me a clue as to what transpired. How could I have let this happen? Fae wine was not the same as human alcohol.
My lids squeezed closed as several deep breaths filled my lungs. Meditate. I could meditate to retrieve my memories and save myself the embarrassment of asking that arrogant fae prince.
I waved my hand to float a fluffy pillow to the soft rug in front of the fireplace. Blood thundered in my ears as I bent to retrieve a small wooden box from under my bed.
Oh, gods. I choked back the sickness and stumbled across the room, folding down on the cool silk pillowcase and crossing my legs.
A few herbs and oils were tucked into the box from an occult store down the street owned by a self-proclaimed Wiccan expert. I snorted. Humans wouldn’t know what to do with real magic if it hit them on the head. They were too busy accidentally summoning spirits or demons while trying to conquer love, power, revenge, or money.
I shook my head and tossed devil’s weed into the hearth, blowing on the pile of logs until they caught fire with a violent whoosh. Next, I added a drop of rose oil, lavender seeds, a handful of moss, and a dash of rosemary. The fragrant aroma drifting from the fireplace filled the room.
My hands rested on my knees, palms up, while I rolled my neck. Faint violet strings swept over my fingers and down my arms, gathering magic around me.
Human meditation and witch meditation were two completely different beasts. Hopefully, I’d be able to push the fog out of my head and reclaim my memories.
A rush of heat flooded my body. What if I hooked up with Caleb?
My lids closed, and I took several slow, deliberate breaths, picturing the private nightworlders’ bar downstairs. The polished wooden counter stretched across one wall, and the soft glow of the crystal chandelier gleamed on the black marble floors. Hugo and Lachlan faced each other on separate couches. Jasper stood near the door while Caleb lingered next to me.
I swallowed back a lump in my throat at my behavior last night. Yes, I had a right to be pissed at Caleb for running headfirst into danger, but I shouldn’t have been a complete brat. He wasn’t to blame for my actions. I drained those two vampires all on my own when I could have use
d my other powers to dispatch them.
This is not the time for introspection, Thorn.
I shook the thoughts off and focused. After I told Lachlan the vampires hadn’t taken those humans to kill and dump in his area, I stormed upstairs.
The winding staircase materialized in my mind as my fingers clutched the smooth railing. Dizziness had settled over me, and the walls spun by the time I made it to the landing. I began to fall, but Caleb caught me and pulled me back to the top. As usual, the prince teased me.
“Just leave me alone,” I said.
Caleb snagged his bottom lip between his teeth. “Not until I take you back to your room.”
“Take me to my room, and then what?”
Moisture evaporated from my mouth. For shit’s sake! Did that seriously come out of my mouth?
Caleb gave a low chuckle. “I guess we’ll see when we get there.” He shifted my body to his side and began drawing me toward the elevator.
My heart shuddered to a stop as I watch the memory of myself leaning into Caleb, my fingers curling into his black T-shirt—the same one I wore now. He spoke again, but his words were drowned out as the images faded.
What the hell was happening?
The nightclub emerged while I danced with Link as a scowling Caleb watched. His jaw twitched, and a luminescent sheen permeated his eyes. He looked seconds away from delivering a punch of magic to the demon.
Why was I seeing this? I remembered this part of the night.
My death raker powers had seeped out, connecting to Link. They’d done that a few times when I was younger before I had better control over them.
The dagger appeared in my mind again, the engraved blade darker than midnight and the hilt a stark combination of vivid red and polished silver metal with a black stone in the center.
My chest tightened. Even though it was only an image in my memories, I could feel power throbbing from the dagger. The thing was ancient. Potent.
Something in my subconscious wanted me to see this knife. It didn’t originate from Illyria or belong to a witch. This pulsating hum screamed demon.
I pushed further into Link’s memory, watching him twist the dagger in his hand.
“Will this really work?” he asked. “Have you tried it out?”
A demon stood in front of him, a terrifying smile slipping over his mouth. “More or less. There are a few kinks, but we’ve found a solution.”
The onyx stone in the hilt began to glow crimson. Something moved within it, forming a long black diamond.
No. Not a diamond. A pupil.
Air caught in my lungs. What the hell? An eye stared out of the hilt, the unyielding glare trying to penetrate my very soul. And steal it.
Something hot ripped through my center and jolted me right out of the memory. I flew back, crashing against the wall. Pain exploded in my skull as a coppery tinge spilled over my tongue.
I coughed and crawled from the rubble of a demolished table, flicking bits of glass and wood out of my hair. Son of a bitch. That hurt.
My ragged breathing shattered the silence. A blanket of shadows wrapped the room, the dying embers in the fireplace the only source of light.
How was this possible? It had been morning when I began meditating.
I climbed to my feet and yanked the drapes open, revealing the nighttime cityscape of Chicago illuminated by high-rises and skyscrapers. The silver arms of the clock on the wall pointed to well past nine p.m.
Moisture evaporated from my mouth, and sweat moistened my skin, making Caleb’s shirt stick to me. How could I have been under that meditation spell for hours, especially when it only felt like five minutes?
That freaking dagger.
Tremors ran through my hands as I brushed damp strands of hair from my face. Ugh. Showering was definitely a must before I stepped foot out of this room.
And then I needed to find Caleb. We had a new lead to follow.
I pressed my ear to the cool wood of Caleb’s apartment door several levels above the nightclub, straining to hear anything. Jasper said he was home, but my knocks had gone unanswered. Maybe he was taking a nap. Or a shower.
A flush bled into my cheeks at the thought of the fae prince standing under a spray of hot water totally nude.
Ugh. I needed to stop those kinds of thoughts immediately before I did something stupid. Unless it was already too late...
Since my memory meditation took a side trip, I’d have to choke back the embarrassment and ask Caleb to fill in the blanks from last night. I’d have to find him first, though.
Screw it.
I shot a jolt of magic into the knob and pushed the door open, creeping inside. That delicious aroma clinging to the fae prince slapped me in the face. I licked my lips as the tantalizing sensation of his hands roaming my body roared to life.
Get it together.
I closed the door and tiptoed further into Caleb’s apartment. A wash of earth tones, leather, and warmth enveloped me. Dimmed recessed lighting in the intricately designed tray ceiling spilled a golden glow over the glossy hardwood and sage area rugs.
My fingers skimmed the rough surface of one of the several exposed brick walls as I trailed deeper into the living room. Unlike my swanky room, this was a full apartment.
Very masculine and very Caleb.
A large kitchen was on the far left, a long bar stretching out with leather and wood stools that appeared more comfortable than the couch in my tiny rundown apartment. Copper pendant lights hung from wrought iron rods.
My boots echoed quietly as I crossed the floor, the soles sinking in when I hit the soft rug blanketing the living room. A towering bookshelf obscuring half of the kitchen housed a mixture of Stephen King, Kurt Vonnegut, J.R.R. Tolkien, George R.R. Martin, and surprisingly Anne Rice.
My brows shot up when I read some of the paperback titles. The Pirate’s Passion, The Stable Boy and the Princess, Wicked Embrace—were those romance novels?
No freaking way. The feared prince of the Unseelie Court did not read bodice rippers.
I plucked The Maiden’s Secret Love, a snort slipping out at the bare-chested man ravaging the voluptuous redhead on the cover.
Someone cleared her throat. “Can I help you?”
I whipped around to find Zeta leaning against the buttery brown leather couch, her arms crossed and a scowl twisting her features. A large male T-shirt brushed her bare thighs.
Sand filled my mouth, and the book slipped out of my hands, tumbling to the floor with a thud. “I-uh-was looking for Caleb.” He’d been with her tonight?
An invisible fist punched my gut. I hoped like hell nothing happened between us because I couldn’t stomach him hooking up with me the night before and then running off to the blonde pixie.
She bit her bottom lip. “He’s been a little busy.”
I just threw up in my mouth.
Caleb sauntered out of his bedroom, his dark hair wet from the shower and top half bared. For shit’s sake. Did I really have to see him shirtless right now?
The crimson stone of the Arx talisman glinted against his bronzed complexion. Swirling tattoos of vines and fae runes twisted around his arms and over his torso, disappearing into the waist of his low-slung jeans.
No one should have abs like that.
He cleared his throat, interrupting my blatant perusal. “How did you get in here?”
His voice was controlled, too much like his father’s, and my spine straightened. I didn’t like the icy facade.
“How do you think?” I snapped and grabbed the book from the floor, pushing it back into place on the shelf. “I knocked, but no one answered.”
Caleb crossed his arms, his face a complete mask. I hated it. I’d rather see that stupid smirk. “What do you want?”
“I need to talk to you.” My gaze flicked to Zeta, who leaned closer to him, running her fingers over his bicep. “Alone.”
“Baby, I thought we were going to hang out,” she purred.
I had a hard time keep
ing my grimace under control.
“Outside.” Caleb stomped toward the door, his jaw flexing.
Zeta pouted at his retreating form and then sent me a sneer. “If you ruin my night, I’m going to ruin the rest of your week.”
I flipped her off and trekked toward the hall, closing the door behind me. I had bigger things to worry about than Zeta’s empty threats.
“What’s so important you couldn’t call me?” Caleb propped his shoulder against the wall, his muscles tight.
My teeth ground, and an insult dangled on the tip of my tongue. “We have a new lead.” I grabbed a piece of paper from my pocket, unfolding it to reveal a rough drawing of the dagger.
He glanced at the page with as much excitement as one does while watching paint dry. “I hope you don’t plan on becoming a sketch artist.”
“This is what I saw when I accidentally used my death raker powers on the demon from the club.” Link would be dead if Caleb hadn’t pulled me off.
The tendons in his arms tightened. “The demon you were grinding on last night? Yeah, I remember him.”
“Would you stop being a dick?” I ignored the flush of heat creeping into my cheeks. Why did I have to sexy-dance with Link? “What is your problem? You were fine last night. Did something happen?” My voice grew a few octaves higher as icy panic began to claw at my heart.
Caleb studied me with an unreadable expression for so long, the tips of my ears began to burn.
Son of a witch. What did I do last night?
He shook his head, breaking the odd tension that began to form. “Nothing happened. I’m just tired of this East Side Slasher crap. The whole vampire lead was a bust. What makes you think this dagger is any better?” He flicked the paper.
“Because I know it is.” I yanked the drawing back, shoving it into my pocket. “I have a feeling.”
His brows dipped. “Maybe your instincts aren’t as good as you think.”
I tossed my hands in the air. “Okay, then we do nothing. You can go back inside with your flavor of the night, and I’ll go hang out downstairs. We’ll never finish this thing.”
