Everwish: The Primati Witches Book One
Page 14
Chapter 14
The Devil
Alaric
hile Stella shivered in my arms, I fought the raging desire to continue our play. The beast had begun to rise, claws curling against her lovely hips. Lost in her own innocent yearning she hadn't seemed to notice, yet fear of hurting her, of my aura being revealed to all, had been the bucket of proverbial cold water I needed to rise from the fog of need she created. Her hands dropped and the loss of contact disturbed me—made me want to coax her into replacing them. I tried to recall all the reasons why this was a bad idea.
She was an innocent. My brother would soon claim her for a wife. She thought I was protecting her from The Lion. She will very well hate me when she finds out that I am The Lion. The big bad wolf sent to steal Red Riding Hood away. She thought she held Alaric. What will she think when she sees the beast?
Her scent was making her impossible to resist. Lavender, lemon, and a hint of freesia. Mouthwatering. I didn’t crave blood as my brother and the vampires did. And yet I was very conscious of the flow of blood in her veins, the pulse unbearably tempting near the sides of her throat. My hands stroked her back, the claws gone as my control returned. I couldn't see her face, tucked as it was against my chest.
I pulled away but she stepped forward, closing the distance. Her forehead pressed into my shirt, denying me a view of her expression. I smoothed the waves of her hair, reveling in the rich softness. It was taking all my strength not to resume our kiss. I cupped the back of her head with one hand while my fingers found her chin. She resisted but could not match my persistence as I lifted her face to meet mine. I groaned inwardly when she kept her eyes closed. My sweet Stella was embarrassed. That would not do.
My fingers traced up her jaw and along her cheek bone. My black heart clenched involuntarily when she sighed. I was used to my effect on women. But Stella’s sweet yearning drove dark thoughts into my head. I needed to reassure her.
"You are very beautiful." The words left without thought. I could do better.
"Thank you for the kiss. If we were in another time and place I assure you—I would want more." Was that too direct? She was so very young.
Her lashes fluttered and she finally revealed her eyes, searching.
"I am not beautiful. But do you mean it…that you felt it, too?" she whispered. The light was too dim to see the depth of her eyes or for her to see the truth in mine.
I held her face, my thumb lightly tracing her swollen lips. "If we continued another moment I would have you on that stage, doing inappropriate things to someone I just met."
Her eyes widened and her hands rose to cup mine.
"I would have lifted your shirt over your head and..."
"Stop!" she panted, but I noticed a smile hovering in the corners of her delectable lips. I grinned inwardly and leaned forward to kiss her hair.
"I just mean that I want you. You are very difficult to resist, and I would appreciate it if you could just help me right now in my efforts to be a gentleman."
She softened, her body curving towards mine.
"I understand." Regret swirled in her tone, and I hoped it wasn't for what had just transpired. I straightened and waited until she gave a small nod.
I clasped her hand and led her back out of the theatre. I had no idea how I was going to explain myself once she learned the truth of who I was. Was there a way to prevent it? Before we reached the end of the hall and became visible to the inhabitants of the barber shop, I tugged her to a stop. She searched my face, curious, and I pressed her against the wall. Our fingers laced and I held them over her head so she couldn't tempt me with her hands. I kissed her softly, smiling as she returned my attention. Meeting her lips with mine one last time, I drew back.
She seemed lost, her eyes the deepest shade of the Marmara Sea, stormy and wild. Tiny threads of silver wove through their depths, and I wondered just how volatile they might become if circumstances were different. Satisfaction flowed thick and heavy through my veins. The soft look in her eyes was better than any victory I could recall earning on a battlefield.
"I wanted to do that in the light so that I can remember your expression in both darkness and light." A glimmer of amusement sparked within her deep blue eyes and the silver receded. "Okay."
I released her and she tugged me closer, taking me off guard.
"I wonder where you were raised. Your accent is thicker than usual," she noted.
"I speak many languages," I said, sidestepping her question. And your eyes shine silver, sweetheart. Information about me was a thread. The more she pulled, the less I could stay as Alaric. She swallowed, one hand rising to touch my chest before falling away.
"There are things I want to tell you that I’ve recently learned about myself. About the world around us. This is so hard..." She stared at the base of my throat and began again.
"Can we just pretend today? Pretend like we might be normal people who...like each other?" Her vulnerable request robbed me of thought or speech.
"Tomorrow we can be strictly professional. After I tell you everything you may just run far away from me. I can guarantee that I won't be jumping you again if you're worried about that..." She trailed off.
Her cheeks were a fascinating shade of pink, and I knew this was taking a great deal for her to request. The idea was both horrifying and tempting. Tempting to imagine she was mine even for a single day.
Horrifying to know that such an event would make the future that more bleak. I would lose her soon. Even if Murad hadn't claimed her as his, the enchantment would likely cause her to fall in love with someone mortal—someone worthier. Today might be the only time with her I will ever have—before she finds out how I've deceived her. Then she will hate me for the rest of her possibly very short life. The thought left me chilled.
"You are asking if we could pretend to be a couple...for just today?"
She nodded.
"And tomorrow we wake up as if today never happened?"
She began to nod—but then lowered her gaze. She lifted a hand and played with the buttons of my shirt. I leaned a forearm against the wall, shielding her from anyone who might walk past the windows. I stilled her hand beneath mine, mulling over her words. I had little experience with the tender sensibilities of a young girl. For centuries I'd kept my dalliances to only those women sophisticated enough to understand my interest was fleeting—and who appreciated my darker needs. I was no gentle schoolboy. Her words sparked an ache that was wholly unfamiliar to me.
As she remained silent, I realized that her energy had shifted, reflecting sadness. Her aura was a fascinating pale gold, its edges fluttering into grey-blue.
"Alaric—I'm just teasing. Of course, we can't pretend. I know that."
My gut clenched in disappointment, yet there was also relief in her taking the fantasy from me. Clara's minions would be reporting our sightings back to her. Our kiss was a one-time only mistake that could not be repeated. This knowledge did not negate the regret I felt as her hand dropped away, and she finally gathered the courage to meet my eyes.
"Thank you for...you know. I think it’s best if we keep some physical distance from now on."
I nodded and resisted the urge to brush her cheekbone once more, unable to get enough of her softness. Only the image of my brother and the possibilities of spies watching us through the windows kept me in check.
"We will keep this to ourselves." I suggested, the words bitter. Once she knew the truth of who I am, and her place in my world, discretion would keep the peace with Murad. There was another reason as well. These precious moments belonged only to us. This was ours, no matter what transpires tomorrow. Her face flashed with hurt before she nodded once and locked her expression in that cool, implacable gaze I now recognized as armor.
There was nothing I could say to comfort her that would not undo the last several minutes of our conversation. I deliberately stepped away from her, and she sauntered past me, leading us out to the
street.
As we walked, I kept my hands in my pockets while she remained quiet at my side. Several blocks later she seemed to rally to a more upbeat mood.
"So, you said you like movies. Which is your favorite?" she asked.
"I have many. What’s your favorite film?" She pondered her answer as we waited for the light to turn.
"You'll laugh. Laugh at me or think I'm unsophisticated."
"Try me."
"Shaun of the Dead."
"What are the odds? That’s my favorite movie as well."
"It is not," she cried, giving me a shove. I allowed her to move me several inches, glad to see the self-consciousness drop from her lovely shoulders.
"It is. I swear it." I placed a hand solemnly over my heart, pleased to see this playful side of Stella emerge.
She jutted her chin. "Prove it, then."
I fought a smile at her taunting tone. "You mean like a quote?"
"Anything."
I thought for a moment. "How about we grab Liz, go to the Winchester, have a nice cold pint, and wait for this to blow over?"
She performed a little jumping dance, delight shining in her eyes. I tried to recall other quotes from the zombie film, anything to keep that sparkle. Now it was I who felt embarrassed. She'd turned me into a foolish kid who wanted nothing more than to impress a girl. She started walking again.
"My cousin, Silvan, and I are zombie freaks. We even ran a zombie 3K last year. He loves nothing more than trying to scare me, but he never succeeds. Amanda thinks we're ridiculous," she explained. I had no idea what a zombie 3K was but if it made her this happy then I was a fan.
We crossed the street and turned, walking past a park with tents of vagrants. I kept an eye on the ones that seemed high or aggressive. The pungent odor of sulfur mixed with decay reached me, and I knew that some of these poor souls had been spelled to their addictions. I frowned, surprised Clara would allow such things in her territory.
"May I ask you a question?" I requested. She nodded.
"You mentioned wanting to travel. If you could go anywhere, where would you like to visit?"
"Where wouldn't I like to go? St. Petersburg, London, Paris...the list is endless."
We were nearly to the bookstore, its distinctive marque and size hard to miss.
"What do you see yourself doing in these places?"
She was silent. I glanced down, catching the blush that stained her cheeks.
It was the same look on her face from the hallway. The breath left my lungs, imagining what she might be thinking. My hand tightened on hers.
"I would...like to study art. The feedback I've gotten on my work is good, but I wonder how much better I can be if I had more advanced instruction."
"What else did you think of just now?" I was fascinated by the cause of her blush.
"Er...I may have imagined painting you, while in all those places."
"Stella..." I began. I could hear it. My voice consecrated the air with her name. This will end badly, I know. My punishment is one thing, but I don't want her to suffer.
There were monsters out there. Creatures willing to tear her to pieces if they got wind of old Everwish rumors. I couldn’t put her at risk for my own weakness. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed my hesitation. She simply walked and I followed her off the curb and into the street.
"One more question," she began. I nodded, helpless to deny her anything.
She watched her feet as she walked. "So, do you have a girlfriend? Is that why you stopped kissing me before?" She rushed through her next words. "Because it was just an impulsive moment for me. No big deal." Her tone was casual, yet I'd noticed that she seemed unable to look at me when things mattered.
I paused in the middle of the street, heedless of waiting cars until her startled eyes met mine. "There is no girlfriend. My job is not…easy on relationships."
I didn’t want her to think this doomed romance was related to a preference for another female. Hated the very suggestion she might doubt her own appeal. My work and tendency to outlive humans was partial truth. Even if she wasn’t who she was, nor promised to my brother, the truth was that, when your ex-girlfriend kills every woman you spend more than a single night with, you begin to lose interest in long-term anything.
I couldn't hand a death sentence down to an innocent. Witches had exceedingly long memories, and Daria was older than most, even if she didn't appear so outwardly.
Stella nodded as she glanced nervously at the cars waiting for the lights to turn. A truck with mud splattered wheels invited injury by emitted a honk. I cast a glare at the offender, my power blanketing out in silent menace that even humans could sense. The man stayed his hand on the wheel and looked away. I followed Stella like a pup to the street corner when she tugged at my hand. We entered Powell's bookstore and it was the hell of nightmares.
I hadn't thought this through when Stella suggested it. It was Sunday and many humans had the day off to shop. I was already restraining the beast, who'd been restless since we tasted Stella earlier. Feeling trapped and in close quarters with humans was very dangerous.
A man bumped into me; nose stuck in a horror book. He apologized and I resisted the urge to throttle him. It wasn't his fault I'd been surprised. With effort, I fought back all the scents and energy swirling about us, narrowing my focus to our immediate area.
Stella beamed at me, oblivious to my discomfort. "Isn't this great?"
I grunted. She selected a canvas book tote and wandered through the crowd, into a different room. I followed, hoping it might be less populated. It was worse. It didn't help that the scent of sulfur and other magick lingered in the air. The magick was layered, some old and some as fresh as mere seconds ago.
As Stella floated happily down a flight of stairs, I stiffened in recognition of a lumberjack-of-a-man with his nose buried in a publication. He was a dark sorcerer I'd dealt with in South America years ago when he’d been suspected of helping a drug lord gain a foothold over the local government. I noted the magazine he read was called Fashion Doll Quarterly and my brows rose. Undetected, I shrugged. To each their own.
I tracked back to Stella but she'd disappeared. Rattled at how quickly she'd vanished, I scanned the area, trying to spot her golden hair. I was tempted to open my powers, to locate her by scent instantly. The presence of other Primati prevented me from choosing this path. I did not want to be recognized unless ready to end this persona altogether. I stalked along the landing, relieved when I recognized her fair hair and humming voice between stacks.
I touched my chest, the tightness unfamiliar. What if she'd been grabbed or worse? Stella was a firefly, a bright light meandering where she wished on a whim. Her willful disregard for her own safety caused the beast within to pace and roar as I made my way to her side.
Crouched in front of a shelf, Stella smiled into a book, and the tightness eased somewhat with her proximity. I was finding it hard to remember why I didn't just place her in the holding tank I kept in the basement of my New York apartment building. But that would realize her fears. The Lion kidnapping her. Who’d told her about the Lion and how much did she know?
The curve of her spine was mesmerizing. My fingers itched to explore it, and I inhaled deeply, thinking of anything to distract myself.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" I wished the words back. I knew from Clara’s reports that she didn't have a boyfriend. Even if she did, he wouldn't matter now that Murad had laid claim. I had no business asking her in the first place. We’d just decided not to engage in any further flirtation, hadn't we? I should keep up my side of the agreement.
Her shoulders froze as she looked up.
"Not even close. I mean there was someone a year ago but not any longer." She trailed off, not meeting my eyes.
Well, Fuckall.
This was news to me. According to any account I'd read, Stella had shown no indication of a boyfriend. I felt my body begin to expand, the change happening. I fo
ught back the beast, tried to think of ice cream, daisies, whatever shit I could come up with.
"Are you okay? You look a little warm." Stella stood, concern in her face.
I was afraid to nod, move, or do anything at this point. I needed every bit of focus to reel back the burning desire to change shape. This lack of control hadn’t happened in hundreds of years. I scanned the room, desperate for a way to distract her. Gritting my teeth, I leaned towards a shelf and plucked out a book.
"Here," I said, thrusting it beneath her nose. She took it, inspecting the cover.
"The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery," she read aloud. "I love this book!"
She did? It happened to be one of my favorites as well. Grasping for control, I took the book and turned it to my favorite section. Jabbing the page with a finger, I gave it back to her. She read it aloud.
"You—you alone will have stars as no one else has them...In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the night sky...you—only you—will have stars that can laugh."
She looked up, her eyes shining. "How did you know this was my favorite passage?"
Did I know? I thought back to the reports I'd scanned. I didn't recall anything about Antoine de Saint-Exupery. I’d known the pilot-writer personally.
At this moment, I didn't trust my self-restraint while the lingering ghost of another male in her life stirred the beast. The enclosed space with so many humans and Primatis in the area put me on edge, while I remained in human form and Stella's scent was compounding the strain. How was I going to manage eventually seeing Stella on my brother's arm? The very thought splintered my control.
"Stay here." I gritted my teeth in a grimace that puckered her forehead in confusion. "I have to find something." I hated to leave her, but this was as safe a place as any. I had to make sure I could keep myself in check near her. I stalked away, ignoring the hurt on her pretty face.