by E E Everly
I pry at the window casings and locks with no result, shredding my nails. I put my palms flat on the glass. A subtle energy pulses beneath my hands. “There’s a ward on the glass. I doubt I could break this if I tried.” To double check, I grab a lamp from a side table and yank the cord from the outlet. When I chuck the light at the window, the lamp seemingly crumbles from the base to the bulb as it hits the glass, ending up in a broken heap on the carpet. The glass doesn’t have a nick. “Just great.”
I knock a few books from the shelf and casually tip a few picture frames off the wall. They fall to the floor with a satisfying crash.
Killian’s eyes are on me as I head toward the door. “Remind me not to ever leave you alone in my flat.”
“Ha ha. You’re so funny, Killian.” I kick a ladder-back chair over.
He whips across the room to me.
I hold my hands up as a warning. “You don’t want to touch me.” Wisely, Killian backs away.
I jiggle the door handle. When that does nothing, I study the hinges. The door looks sound.
I’ll see about that. I take a few steps back and raise my arms.
“Sasha… what are you going to do?”
I send pulses into my fingertips. As the pressure of my storm builds, my head rages with splitting pain. I cry out and throw my storm at the door. The wind and energy ricochet off the wood and fly at me, hitting me square in the chest. I land backward on my butt.
Killian’s cradling me in his strong undead arms in less than two seconds.
“Ow.” I rub my sternum. “Accursed fae-proof magic.” I grimace as my insides twinge. “Ouch.” I fall limp in Killian’s arms, too exhausted to hold my head up anymore. My skin crawls with the need for cream and sugar. I flail my legs. “Bring me ice cream, you freakin’ brutes!”
“Snarling Sasha.” Killian supports my drooping head. His brow’s bent in a disconcerting fashion. “How long have you ever gone without ambrosia?”
His soulful eyes can’t calm the sensation of ants digging tunnels through my muscles. “Never long when I’m hurting, and at least”—I moan—“oh crap, I’m screwed. Several times a day. It’s a crutch.”
“So we should buckle in for the long haul. You can get through this.”
I mock laugh and nod sarcastically. “Storm sprites don’t need ambrosia on Belyven. It’s a thing that happens when we come to Earth.”
Killian smiles. “I didn’t know that.”
“There’s something about this planet that’s different from ours. I think ours has a different magnetic field that enhances magic and stabilizes the power in our bodies.”
“Hence the freak out without the ambrosia. You’re unstable.” He says unstable with care, as if not to upset a feral animal.
“Meh, ‘hence the freak out.’” I’m being a real brat, and Killian hasn’t seen this side of me. But when in freak-out mode, freak out.
He doesn’t snap back.
“You know you have ash on your forehead,” I say.
Killian doesn’t say anything but angles his face downward. I rub at the smudge near his hairline until it’s gone. He just closes his eyes, as if my touch is the greatest sensation, and rocks me.
But I need room to breathe. After a short minute, I push out of his embrace and tuck into a ball, burrowing into a safe place in my head.
At least you’re alive. Where are we with the plan, Sasha? Get the amulet. Get out of here. Get ambrosia.
Another hour must have gone by in which I stay huddled on the floor, rocking. It’s somewhat soothing. Killian hovers, and every once in a while I hiss.
The poor guy. He probably wants to rip my throat out so I shut up.
I begin to understand how he must feel around me. Is he just a mess inside? Does he sit curled up during the day and rock himself as he curtails his urge to bleed me?
He loves you, you idiot.
He loves me, he thinks.
Admit it.
I can’t.
I fume for a while on this new thought process. If he loves me, what am I going to do about it? My options are simple, yet I’m going to pieces over them. Continue being friends with a vampire or admit I love him too.
I stop rocking and look at Killian, who paces in a corner, far far away from me since my last eruption.
But he craves your blood. How in the world could I subject him to continued torture by letting him be around me? I’d return to Belyven just to save him torment if I didn’t become deathly ill because of my curse, and going home would release Killian of his duty to me.
I huff and make the mistake of thinking aloud. “I should just give up and become your willing freshie.” My off-the-wall statement paralyzes Killian in his tracks.
He speaks with slow and controlled words. “Why would you say that?”
There’s no backing down from my senseless statement. “Come on. I’d be your freshie.”
“I would kill you. That’s not funny, Sasha.”
“That’s what you want,” I say.
“Stop it. This is ambrosia withdrawal speaking. Cut it out.”
I stand, straightening and stretching my stiff legs, and amble around the room.
Killian’s riveted on my every move. His chest swells as he gets a hold of his frustration. Why is it whenever vampires are agitated, they revert to human behaviors? It doesn’t matter if the air blowing in and out of his lungs does nothing for him. His actions make him look ferocious. He’s working hard to contain his emotions. I guess the deep breaths are a way to compose himself.
“I mean think about it,” I hedge. “Do you really love me, as you claim, or is it my blood?”
He winks over and sweeps his hand behind my neck. I’m immobilized by fear, by the sudden awareness that he could kill me in an eye blink. His compulsion courses through me, soothing the tensions in me. I’m part in awe, wondering why he didn’t use his compulsion to calm me before, and part annoyed he’s controlling my emotions. The irritation slips away as soon as I feel it.
“How can you ask that?” He purrs near my ear. “Being near you and protecting you wasn’t about your blood and how I craved it. It was always about you. Just you, sassy Sasha.”
“I had to ask.”
Killian drops his hypnotic hold and turns. “You do think so little of me.”
I’m quick with my response and tug on his arm, begging him to look at me. “No. I don’t. Haven’t you listened to a word I said at the safe house about your worth? Forget what I said just now. My agitation is fueling my animosity.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway.” He hangs his head. “I wasn’t brave enough to love you. I was always afraid of hurting you. I thought keeping my distance was best.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“Just because I wasn’t brave enough to love you, doesn’t mean I didn’t. I protected you because I loved you. Even if I couldn’t be with you the way I wanted.”
“You slept with me the other night.” My fingers find their way under the edge of his sleeve and explore his upper arm and shoulder.
Killian’s teeth show with his smile. “That was ballsy on my part. After my run-in with the seed demons and our run-in with Seth, I wanted one night with you in my arms.”
I’m partly teasing when I respond to him, but partly serious. “What, in case some demon or vampire killed me?”
“No. In case I had to leave you forever. In case your blood became too much.”
“It is too much. It will always be too much, won’t it?”
“I shouldn’t have become involved with you.”
“It’s too late, Killian.” I move behind him, wrap my arms around his upper body, and press my forehead into his shoulder blades. My voice softens as I whisper. “You’re way too involved.”
Emotion chokes his words. “I’m not sure I should love you.”
Don’t say that. “I think you should.”
“I’m not brave enough to love you.”
I pull him around to face me
, pawing his chest, wishing it were mine to always touch. “It’s a choice, Killian.” I take his face in my hands and run my fingers along his alluring facial scruff. “Love me.”
“I can’t. It’s dangerous.”
“Let me love you, then.”
“Sasha”—his fingertips trail along my hairline—“we’re ignoring who we are.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I knew you would brush it off.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” I ask. “I’ve always had to take whatever I’ve been handed. Disaster or curse or demon. I don’t fear your love.”
“You fear the monster.”
“No.”
“I’ve seen your face,” he says. “I’ve heard your heartbeat when I lose myself. I do frighten you.”
“I feel safe with you.”
“I hear what you’re telling me, and I don’t believe it. I shouldn’t have told you I love you. It was a mistake.” Killian’s voice is husky. Even though I see in his face how he works to deny his feelings, his hands speak otherwise as they trail to my neck.
“Yes, you should have.” My heart races. “It’s not a mistake. Love is never a mistake.” The stupid vest once again constricts my chest. “Say it. You are in love with a storm sprite.”
Killian sweeps his hands up to cradle my neck. His chest rises with emotion as he captures my every attention. “I am in love with a storm sprite, you, Sasha.”
“And I am in love with an undead vampire.” My mouth doesn’t close with my final syllable. I’m startled at my own confession.
Killian’s eyes light up. They land on my rounded mouth. I shut my lips and stare up at him, feeling ridiculous and amazing at the same time. He had to know how scary admitting that was for me.
He’s so pleased he’s grinning, but I love him even more when he turns the attention off me—
Because my cheeks are growing hot, and Killian still holds me, his perfectly willing captive.
“Nothing can erase who I am or what I’ve done.” He doesn’t mean this to deter my affections. He just puts it out there.
I shake my head. He knows I know exactly who he is, but I assure him anyway. “What you did doesn’t matter. You are more than one mistake.”
It’s his turn for his mouth to round with his words, for his voice to dip low and seductively. “More like countless mistakes.” This time he does not mean his love for me.
The mood is changing like the atmosphere after a storm—bright with sun streaks, but misty as the clouds linger.
Playful and optimistic.
“No one’s counting but you.” I’m dizzy while my stomach dances as Killian drags his index finger along my collar.
“What are we going to do?” His lips are close.
I want them closer.
“You mean us?” I smile and pout my lips, hoping they look fuller. I don’t dare say anything that will make him stop touching me, that will subdue the fire in my veins. “There’s nowhere to go but forward.”
“Meaning?”
“Do I have to spell it out for you?” I want the vest off. I pull on it through my shirt. “I don’t need this on anymore,” I squeak under my breath.
Killian plucks the first button open on my blouse. “I need you,” he whispers.
“Storms yes.”
“No, I mean, I’ve never recognized it before—your unconditional love. I know that I need it now.”
He finally understands what I’ve been trying to tell him. “Killian”—I grab his shirt with both hands—“I will always love you, but right now, I need you.”
He laughs as he comprehends my earnestness. I help him with the buttons, flushing even more as his fingers trail lower. My neck burns. Before Killian reaches the last button, I pull the shirt off my shoulders. “Please take this off,” I cry as I scrape at the vest.
The Velcro rip couldn’t have been more pleasant when Killian releases the side closures. As he lifts the heavy vest over my head, I sigh, until the plastic hooks snag my hair and pull away with an unpleasant yank.
I slide my ponytail holder out of my tresses and finger rake the snarled strands. I’m almost unrestrained. I can breathe. My cool palms smooth over my scorched cheeks. Killian just watches me. Heat floods my cheeks again, and I drop my hands to my stomach, remembering I wear only a bra on my top half.
Killian smiles, revealing milky white fangs protruding from his gums. Dismay courses through me, and I take a half step back.
“Don’t.” Killian grabs my elbow. “I can’t help it when they do that sometimes, but I won’t bite you.”
“Oh?” I pull my waist-long hair over my shoulders to cover myself.
“Don’t do that either.” Killian blurs as he flings my hair behind me. Then I’m pressed to him, gazing up into his blue eyes. They haven’t vamped out yet.
I dare to touch a fang point with my fingertip. “How can we make those bad boys retract?” Kissing him with those deadly weapons terrifies me.
Killian closes his lips over my finger and licks it. I gasp and jerk away. He laughs. “You’ll just have to trust me.” He tilts my face toward his, but he bypasses my mouth. The softness of his lips caresses my neck, but I’m too tense to relax.
“Killian?” Don’t think of him as a vampire. He’s the man you love.
I close my eyes and lift his face, flattening my palms over his cheeks. My fingers lace through his hair at the back of his head. His body is delicious under my fingertips. A warmth tickles my belly, and I find myself tipping upward to meet him. I don’t open my eyes to check if he’s still in half vamp-out. My lips part, and a swirl of excitement stirs like pixies taking flight when I feel Killian’s mouth.
A moan sneaks out without warning.
Thundering storm clouds!
His mouth is sweet and hot. I may have just found a new ambrosia. Killian plays with my bottom lip, giving it a little pull. He nips me with an extended canine.
I can’t stop my sharp intake of breath. There’s no pain. I taste no blood. He’s playing.
My hands have taken on a mind of their own. They scrunch Killian’s shirt with desperation. If I am shirtless, he must be too.
“We’re doing this?” he asks between hungry kisses. Never mind that we are at demon central.
Screw them. Screw my demon daddy.
“I want to.” I suck on his neck before coyly looking up with blinking lashes. “Please?”
“Gladly. There’s no hope for my soul anyway. I’d rather give it to you.”
Killian pushes me onto the chaise, and we are lost in consuming passion.
TWENTY-ONE
I stretch out on the soft cushions, completely at ease. It turns out making love with my hot vampire is the next best thing to ambrosia.
We’ve been dressed and nestled on the chaise for some time.
“It must be midnight,” I say as Killian nuzzles my neck.
He runs his nose from my jaw to my clavicle.
I weave my fingers through his thick locks. “How’s the blood lust now?”
He doesn’t look up; he’s too busy inhaling his ambrosia. “It’s always there, but I’m all right.”
“I wish I could do something about it.” I don’t like the fact that one day he might bite me in my sleep or use compulsion on me to make me his willing freshie.
You trust him. I sure have to remind myself that a lot. I am only being reasonable. Vampires may seem human, but at the drop of a pin, they’re feral animals.
Killian nibbles on my earlobe. He asks a question I’m shocked to hear, but he hides the pain of it behind the gentle exploration of my earlobe, between kisses and whispers. “Were you going to leave me, sexy Sasha, when you turned thirty-six? Will that be it for us?”
I had every intention of returning to Belyven, but then again, when I made the resolve, I wasn’t in love with a vampire.
Killian doesn’t cease attacking my ear in what I believe is a form of torturous sensuality. I melt into the chaise, trying to answer his q
uestion with all seriousness, but my belly is fluttering. “Would you really want me for the next seventeen years?” I manage to breathe. I didn’t think that for someone who has forever that I’d hold his fancy for so long.
His breath tickles my ear, sending chills up my neck. “Forever, Sasha. I want you forever.”
His words leave an imprint on my spirit.
Forever. He’s my vampire forever, as long as I live. Storm sprites live for many centuries, but we do age and eventually die. “Forever?”
He kisses my jaw. “I will follow you into the beyond if I have to.”
My eyes are closed as I murmur, “You’ve really given this some thought.”
Killian slides his fingers along my jaw as he pulls back. The emptiness from the space between us leaves me cold, but he has my attention. “Sasha, I’ve denied my feelings for you for too long. I know what I want.” His mouth forms the words with a perfect O. “Only you. Always.”
My life is going to be different going forward. I welcome it. I’m okay with this undead supernatural, who craves my blood, loving me.
I’m okay loving him too.
I’m about to haul Killian in for a kiss when a strange hum ruins the mood, followed by a few clicks. A voice booms through the room, evidently over a speaker.
“Korbinian’s ready to see you.”
Killian pushes off the chaise with vamp speed. I groan and try to make my stiff muscles work. While sitting on the chaise’s edge, I gingerly prod my lump. My head’s more or less done throbbing.
I must have discovered a new ambrosia. I’ll take it—in addition to my cream and sugar. I can’t give those up.
A panel slides open in the wall, and a shallow alcove appears.
I jump up when shiny manacles glint from where they attach to the wall. “No. No way.”
Killian moves closer to inspect. “Silver. They want me secure.”
“You’ve had enough silver poisoning your system lately.”
The voice fills the room again. “Korbinian will enter when the vampire is shackled.”
Killian steps into the alcove.
I grab his hand. “Are you nuts? Killian, don’t do it. Please.”
