Witching Night (After Dark Book 3)

by Sarah Bailey

  “Well, no. It’s not that bad.”

  He put a hand under her chin, encouraging her to look at him. He looked and sounded sincere. Why did he have to look like that right now? She couldn’t stay mad. His eyes drew her in and his mouth… His mouth. Oh gods!

  “Alistair…”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t make me regret this.”

  “Regret wh—”

  Going up on tiptoes, she pressed her mouth to his, silencing him. She wrapped her arms around his neck. One of his hands curled around her back and the other was in her hair. Kissing him had all those feelings from earlier rushing back. Her skin felt hot and there were knots in her stomach.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered against her mouth.

  “Kissing you.”

  “Why?”

  “I like it, so be quiet unless you want to stop.”

  His lips were against hers, his tongue demanding entry. She relented, letting him take the lead. She hoped she was doing a better job than last time, but he didn’t seem to be complaining. He pressed her closer.

  “Goddess, you taste like heaven.”

  “What?” she squeaked.

  “Sweet, so sweet.”

  He was kissing her again, backing the two of them towards her bed. Before she had a chance to register what he was doing, he’d pulled her down on top of him. She yelped, pushing against his chest so she could sit up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I thought you’d be more comfortable this way.”

  “I… Alistair!”

  “Come here, I promise no funny business.”

  He tugged her down, fingers tangling in her hair before he kissed her. Her face was flaming. He was on her bed and she was on top of him. How had she gotten into this position? She’d only met him last night and yet she felt like she’d known him a lot longer than a day.

  Despite her reservations, she had to agree that lying down was more comfortable. His hand drifted under her t-shirt. His hand on her skin was far too much for her to handle when he was already sending her into a tailspin with his mouth.

  “Stop, that’s… that’s too much,” she whispered, pulling away.

  He opened his eyes, lust flickering in those sapphire depths, and looked up at her. She was very much aware of the effect she seemed to be having on him. She could feel him pressed up against her where she was straddling him. She might not have been with a guy before, but she knew without a doubt what that was.

  “Grace?”

  “Do you… want me?”

  “What?”

  He frowned.

  “No one has wanted me before and well, I think you do, but…”

  She shifted a little. He froze, realisation dawning on his face.

  “Shit, Grace, I’m sorry.”

  He pushed her off him and sat up.

  “I didn’t mean to. I promised you no funny business.”

  Did he think he’d crossed the line because of his reaction to her being on top of him?

  “It wasn’t that. I mean, I wasn’t expecting it, but… no, I didn’t tell you to stop because of that.”

  He frowned again, looking confused.

  “It’s just you were kissing me, and your hand was on my skin. I just… it made me feel things I haven’t felt before. I… I need to do this slowly.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shit, I thought I’d fucked up.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in places. She stifled a grin. She reached out, smoothing it down for him. He watched her hands with wide eyes.

  “You didn’t.”

  “Are you making me look presentable?”

  “I… well, I guess so.”

  She retracted her hands, satisfied he was back to looking like his handsome self.

  Handsome? Oh gods!

  “I should let you sleep.”

  He took one of her hands, placing a kiss on her palm. Her breath caught in her throat from the contact. He smiled before edging off the bed and dusting himself down.

  “Night, Grace.” He paused, his grin turning wicked. “And in answer to your earlier question… Yes, I do want you, very much.”

  He strode from the room, leaving her gawking after him.

  Chapter Seven

  Grace was just pulling a few things together before she made her way over to Alistair’s when her phone rang. She grabbed it off her desk, not looking at the display before answering it.

  “Hello, Grace speaking.”

  “Sweetie, it’s your dad.”

  “Oh, hi, how are you?”

  She was going to see him in a few days. Why was he calling her now?

  “I’m fine, listen, did you go to the bar?”

  “Um, yeah, Dad, I did.”

  “Did you find Lukas?”

  She rolled her eyes. Her father had no idea what she’d been through in the past week.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Oh, Grace, what are we going to do? Have you tried going again?”

  “No, Dad. I don’t need to.”

  “You must get out of this contract. I won’t have my only daughter dying for my sake.”

  She was going to have to tell him about her deal with Alistair. She wasn’t sure how he’d take it. He’d never mentioned witches to her before. Did he even know they existed?

  “I met someone else that night, he’s helping me.”

  “You did? Oh, that’s wonderful news! Who is it?”

  “Just a guy.”

  She wasn’t sure why she was reluctant to tell him. Everything with Alistair was all kinds of complicated. She still didn’t understand her feelings towards him.

  “Grace…”

  “He’s a witch. He’s been getting things together so he can break the contract.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said he’s a witch.”

  “I need you to listen to me very carefully. You need to stay away from him.”

  “What?”

  What on earth was her father on about now? Stay away from Alistair?

  “Stay away, Grace. Witches, they’re dangerous. You can’t trust them. You need to find another way. I’ll help you, promise me you won’t see this witch again.”

  “I don’t understand. How do you know about witches?”

  “I don’t know how they found you, but you have to promise me, Grace. Promise me you won’t see him.”

  “Dad, you’re scaring me.”

  “I have to go. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  The line went dead. She frowned at her phone. What had that been all about? It made no sense. Why would her father warn her to stay away from witches? What did he know about them that she didn’t?

  She sat down on her bed, unable to quite comprehend her father’s reaction. Alistair hadn’t done anything but help her. He’d kissed her, but she hardly counted that as dangerous. The only thing she was in danger from was getting caught up in his sapphire eyes and never wanting to look away. She shook her head. Why was she thinking about that?

  She looked down at the time. She was going to be late. She stuffed the rest of the things Alistair had asked her to bring in her bag and ran out the door.

  Both her flatmates were at work, so there was no one around. Amelia had been fine after her little run in with the fairy. She hadn’t remembered very much. Grace and Josh decided it was better Amelia didn’t know exactly what had gone on. She hardly wanted to have to explain the supernatural world to yet another person.

  She made her way across the city to his place. It’d been a few days since they’d seen each other, and he’d dropped that bombshell on her. He wanted her. She hated to admit it, but a part of her wanted him too.

  When she knocked at his door, her stomach was a ball of nerves. They’d been keeping in contact via text, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him in person.

  He opened it, a smile on his face.

  “Well, hello there.”
r />   “Um, hi. I’m sorry I’m a bit late.”

  He stepped back, allowing her in. She followed him from the hall into the living room. She dropped her bag on his sofa and looked up at him.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Um, yes. I want to put this contract business behind me.”

  She was ready for this to be over, but it meant she’d have no reason to see him again. The thought of that was a little unbearable.

  “Did you bring what I asked?”

  “Yes. It was lucky I had something of Dad’s at home already.”

  She unzipped her bag, fishing out various bits and pieces.

  “He rang me before I came over. It was weird.”

  “Weird how?”

  “When I told him you were helping me, he freaked out and told me to stay away from you. I mean I didn’t tell him who you were exactly, but just what you are.”

  She dug around in her bag some more, trying to find what she was looking for.

  “He said witches are dangerous and I can’t trust them. He told me he didn’t know how they’d found me. I mean, I’m sure he’s talking nonsense as usual, but he sounded genuinely afraid.”

  She tried to hand him the picture she had of her and her dad from when she was seventeen. He’d taken her to Brighton for the day and they’d gone on the rides on the pier together. She smiled at the fond memory.

  When he didn’t take it, she looked up at him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Grace, we need to talk about something. I haven’t exactly been honest with you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He rubbed his face. She dropped the photo on the sofa and took his hand, holding it with both of her own.

  “What is it?”

  A deep sigh escaped his lips. She didn’t know why he was being like this. What hadn’t he been honest with her about? He hadn’t told her much about himself, but they’d not known each other for very long. She wasn’t expecting him to reveal all his secrets to her after a few days.

  He wasn’t looking at her. She edged closer to him, dropping his hand so she could cup his face instead.

  “Alistair, just tell me.”

  He turned his face into her palm, breathing her in. It sent shivers down her spine.

  “Grace,” he whispered, his voice troubled. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

  “Why would I? I mean, you can be annoying, but I’m kind of getting used to it and well, the other stuff, that’s new to me, but—”

  His lips against her palm silenced her. He reached up, taking her hand and moving it so he could kiss the heel of her palm. He placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist, his blue eyes meeting hers. She couldn’t breathe.

  “By the goddess, I want you, but I’ve been lying to you.”

  “What?”

  He pushed up her sleeve, placing a kiss on the skin he’d revealed. Oh gods! Every touch sent jolts down her arm. She couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. Was he distracting her on purpose?

  “I should’ve told you this the night we met.”

  “Told me… told me what?”

  His lips were on her forearm, trailing their way up.

  “Alistair… I… I can’t think straight when you’re doing that. You’re making me feel all weird inside.”

  She hadn’t meant to say that at all. His eyes darkened. He let go of her arm, only to pull her towards him, his lips crashing down on hers. She squeaked in surprise as his arms went around her, one of his hands cupping her backside. He kissed her with wild abandon. She was going to drown in the sensations he was eliciting. Her body felt like it was burning up from the inside out.

  He moved, pressing her down onto the sofa. She found she didn’t even want to protest. Her fingers dug into his back, a small mewl escaping from her mouth. He felt good. He felt so damn good. She couldn’t deny it any longer. She wanted him to touch her.

  “Gods, don’t stop,” she groaned when he moved to kiss her jaw.

  “I should stop. We need to talk.”

  He trailed kisses down her neck, his hands unzipping her coat before he pushed it off her shoulders.

  “I… want you,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know why or how this happened. I’ve never wanted anyone to touch me or kiss me, but I want you to do those things.”

  She knew her face was flaming from embarrassment. She couldn’t believe she’d admitted how she felt.

  “You’re serious.”

  “Yes,” she squeaked.

  He sat up, startling her.

  “Then I have to stop.”

  “What? No… you don’t.”

  “Yes, I really do. I can’t do this when you don’t know the truth.”

  She wanted to argue with him further, but his expression made her keep her mouth shut. He looked conflicted.

  “Then tell me.”

  He looked at her, his eyes roaming down her body. She’d told him she wanted him, given him an open invitation. She wasn’t sure she was ready to go all the way, but at the very least, she wanted his hands on her.

  “Grace, please, don’t look at me like that.”

  “I… like what?”

  He moved over her again, his body pressed against hers.

  “Like you want me to take you to places you’ve never been before.”

  “I… well… I didn’t mean to.”

  “You want me to touch you?”

  “Yes.”

  His fingers crept under her shirt, brushing against her stomach.

  “Like this?”

  She nodded, unable to speak any longer. Her heart was pounding so fast, she thought she might pass out.

  “Your skin is so soft. You drive me crazy. You’re so innocent and sweet. By the goddess, I want to make you mine. I don’t want anyone else to have you.”

  His fingers ran up her side. It sent jolts right down to her core. His words made her face heat up all over again. Did he really want her that much?

  “You do?”

  “Yes, but I shouldn’t want you at all.”

  “Why not?”

  His fingers brushed over her chest, edging closer to her breasts.

  “Because of who you are.”

  It was all too much. His touching. His words. She might want Alistair, but it was also freaking her out.

  “Stop,” she whispered.

  His fingers stilled in their path.

  “I can’t do this.”

  She needed him off, her skin was burning. Something inside her felt like it was pressing against her chest, itching to get out.

  “I can’t breathe.”

  Her throat felt like it was constricting. It was happening again. Her heart raced at an alarming pace.

  “Grace?”

  “I can’t, please, you need to get off.”

  He started to move, but it wasn’t fast enough for her. She needed room to breathe. Her hands went to his chest, her intention to push him away. The next second, he was flying through the air. He collided with the wall and slumped down it, his head lolling on his chest.

  She sat up, looking down in confusion. Green tendrils of smoke dissipated in her hands. Her whole world turned on its axis. Was that what she thought it was?

  She looked over at the man she’d thrown several feet away. He wasn’t moving.

  Oh gods, Alistair!

  She scrambled off the sofa, running over to him. She knelt down, checking him over for any sign of injury. He didn’t seem to be bleeding, but he definitely wasn’t conscious. What had she done? How had that happened? She didn’t have magic, did she? The green smoke had looked exactly like Alistair’s magic except it was a different colour.

  “Alistair?”

  She shook him. He didn’t stir.

  “Oh gods, what have I done? Please wake up.”

  She shook him again, panic rising in her chest.

  “I need you to wake up. Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I… Alistair, please.�
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  He still wasn’t responding. She shifted, crossing her legs. She carefully moved him so his head was in her lap. She stroked his hair, feeling the guilt eating her up inside. It had been an accident, but she’d still thrown him into a wall. She really hoped he was all right.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know how that happened. I didn’t mean to push you away. I just panicked. It was all too much.”

  She was sure he couldn’t hear a word she was saying, but she couldn’t stop talking.

  “I liked what you were doing. I like you. Even though you’re irritating and drive me half-crazy with all that ridiculous teasing. I still like you anyway. I’m sorry. I just… I want you to wake up.”

  “You like me?”

  She froze, her hand still tangled in his dark hair. She looked down at him, but he had his eyes closed.

  “You’re… you’re awake.”

  “Mmm, yes.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Well, I won’t lie, that hurt like a bitch, but you’re making me feel better.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes, keep stroking my hair. It feels nice.”

  His hand curled around her leg. She resumed her ministrations.

  “I do… you know, like you.”

  “Well, that’s a relief because I like you too. You know, you could’ve asked nicely, I would’ve gotten off you.”

  “I didn’t mean… I don’t know what happened.”

  “I do. It’s what I’ve suspected all along. You have magic.”

  Chapter Eight

  “I… I have what?”

  Alistair’s hand tightened over her thigh.

  “Magic. I felt it when we met. Just a tiny inkling so I couldn’t be sure until now.”

  “Why would I have magic?”

  The whole thing felt completely insane. He sighed. She suspected this was a part of the thing he didn’t want to tell her.

  “Grace, the reason I approached you in the bar has nothing to do with your conversation with Neave. I knew who you were because you’re the spitting image of your mother. Ophelia Delacroix is head of the coven at war with my own. She disappeared six months ago.”

  Her hands stilled. She knew her mother’s name was Ophelia. Is this why her father wanted her to stay away from witches? Had he known who her mother really was?

  “My mother is a witch?”

  “Yes.”