by Gina LaManna
Dani snorted as she followed him along. “Why do you keep your fridge stocked anyway?” she asked, pulling open the doors and retrieving a can of diet soda. “How many visitors have you had here?”
“One,” Matthew said. “Hence the reason it’s stocked only with your favorites.”
Dani took a long moment scanning the fridge, then slammed it shut with impatience.
“I’ll be in the living room,” she said. “Waiting. Make it quick—I’m going to Comm Felix.”
Dani retreated from the kitchen, admiring it with a forlorn look on her face, probably mourning its lack of use in Matthew’s home. Once she was gone, Matthew continued through the house to a storage space in the back designated explicitly for his supplies. Synthetic blood and the like.
He unfastened it, wondering why he kept his supplies hidden from the rest of the household. He rarely had visitors. Dani knew as well as he did that synthetic blood kept him alive, so why didn’t he leave it on a shelf in the fridge next to her sodas?
Matthew knew the answer to that as well.
As he pierced a full bag with a long, talon-like nail and raised it to his lips, he closed his eyes and drank. And like always, he knew, he realized that his very species was a barrier to him and Dani ever truly coming together. While Dani never made him feel ashamed for what he was, the guilt was built into Matthew’s very essence.
He could never provide a normal life for Dani. Marriage, children, a life together—all of that looked different with a vampire. If normalcy was something Danielle wanted, she’d have to find it elsewhere.
Though Matthew hated to admit it, even Grey could offer a more normal life than Matthew ever could. Grey might transform now and again into a big furry beast, but that was an isolated case. The rest of the time, Grey was a warm-blooded, heart-pounding person.
Matthew would never be that.
He drank, finishing the bag with a flourish and reaching for another. Normally, one bag was more than enough to do the trick, but he felt on fire today, his thirst burning a hole through him. Despite the fact Dani was in the house, tucked back through several closed doors, Matthew could smell her scent, and he hungered for her. Thirsted. Desired.
He drank and drank, and still his thirst wasn’t quenched.
He reached for a third bag before realizing that this synthetic substitute would never be enough to fill the gaping hole inside of him. Only one person could do that, and she was sitting just across the house.
He dropped the third bag back where he’d found it and returned inside. He flew through the kitchen, aware his body felt revitalized by the large infusion of blood—and simultaneously aware that the hole in his chest was larger than ever. Matthew stormed into the sitting room downstairs and came to a dead stop at the sight of Dani there on the couch.
She was out cold, dead to the world, her heart beating a slow, sensual tune while her breath came in even waves. Her hair spread in a halo around her face, and her body—clothed in tough, dark leathers and spiky studs—looked small and unbearably fragile. The poor thing was exhausted.
Matthew could practically feel her energy replenishing from her much-needed rest. She’d be much more useful after a half hour’s nap than she would if he woke her now. So, with painstaking gentleness, he lifted her in his arms and climbed the stairs to the second level.
Matthew had purchased the property—one of the oldest in the city—because it brought back memories of easier times. Times before Dani, times when he’d had only to focus on himself.
Then, for a brief flash in time, Dani had swept through these hallways and made this place warm and real. It was the first time it had become a home.
Matthew knew Dani hated this place with its grand stairways, oversized four-poster bed, and window seat that boasted views across all of Wicked—and he knew if they were to ever come together, he’d sell this place in a heartbeat and find a new one that pleased her. Meanwhile, he was only resting here temporarily and biding his time.
He laid Dani on the bed and covered her gently with a comforter. Then he moved to the window seat and stretched out, folded his hands in his lap, and waited.
Chapter 22
I woke to the feel of a whisper of skin against mine.
My eyes flickered open, and for a moment, I panicked. The first thought to race through my mind was that I’d been kidnapped, but that notion blew away like a piece of errant lint. I was much too comfortable to have been kidnapped. It felt like someone had laid me to rest on clouds and covered me with silken sheets made for royalty.
As my eyes focused, the reality of my surroundings sank in. The exquisite bed linens. The magnificent, lofted ceilings with a sparkling chandelier and tilted skylights that gave views to the borough beyond. And the eyes—the gorgeous, complex, dangerous pools of dark—of Matthew King staring back at me.
“I’m sorry to wake you,” he murmured. “But you’ve been asleep for half an hour, and I knew you’d stake me if I let you sleep longer than that.”
I couldn’t bring myself to move. I was dazed and all-too-comfortable, and I wasn’t sure which had me glued to the bed. It was then that I realized Matthew’s fingers brushing hair back from my forehead was the whisper of skin that had caused me to wake. The only thing I could manage was a husky sort of question that somewhat translated to a garbled, “What?”
“While I was...” Matthew cleared his throat. “While I was outside, you sat on the couch and dozed off.”
“More like fell into a black hole,” I said. “I don’t remember anything after I hit the couch.”
“You were so exhausted, I thought I’d let you rest for a moment,” Matthew said. “Felix hasn’t Commed yet and neither has Marcus. It was imperative you rested.”
“I guess—well, I didn’t sleep much,” I said, dragging a hand across my eyes. “Late night, early morning, you know the drill.”
“Indeed,” Matthew said, though it’d been a long time since he’d needed rest. “Danielle, there’s something—”
“Matthew, I need to get moving,” I said. “We both do. It’s been too long since I checked in with—”
Matthew’s demeanor changed, and though he didn’t outright speak, it was enough to draw silence around us both. Another flicker of something passed across his face, a nervous, almost tender sort of expression in which he watched me carefully, seeming to argue with himself. Whatever it was, I could see when he made the decision, the moment his mind changed, and he acted.
Leaning forward, he pressed my hair back from my forehead with a softness impossible to replicate. He hesitated, meeting my gaze as he waited for the meaning to sink in. I knew this was his way of asking permission, of warning me that in the next moments, something would change that couldn’t be reversed.
I closed my eyes, felt my lips part, and leaned into him.
Matthew’s arms wrapped around me, held me to his chest as his mouth met mine in a whirlwind of pent-up longing, of wordless desire, of a fate that was meant to be and couldn’t quite come to pass. His hands caressed my cheeks, down my neck, over my back, and then his lips followed.
The quick, sharp touch of fang sent an erotic jolt down my spine, and I arched toward him, letting him hold me, pull me, roll onto the bed in one graceful tumble. I wasn’t sure who reached for my shirt, but I pulled it over my head, and he tossed it aside. I tugged at his shirt next, saw the pale glint of his gorgeous torso, and pressed a trail of kisses along it.
Dragging me back to him, our chests naked and pressed together in a symphony of hot and cold, he broke our kiss and forced my gaze to meet his.
“I’ve waited too long to do this, Danielle, and now I simply can’t wait any longer,” he said in a low, husky murmur. “I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I know that you are mine. Of course, that’s only if you want to be, but I can’t take the risk of waiting any longer.”
“Matthew—”
He stole my argument with a kiss. “I was created to love you, to be one with you, and if fate pulls us apart,
it won’t be because I didn’t make my feelings clear.”
“I know, Matthew, and I love you, too.”
“I’m sick of the reasons we can’t be together,” Matthew said. “There are always reasons that we shouldn’t work. We are different species. I could hurt you, crush you, bleed you to your death with one wrong move. Don’t you think I know that? I’ve struggled with it since the day I met you. I understand that more than you could ever possibly know.”
My throat constricted with emotion.
“I will give up this life for you. My wealth. My career. Anything. There’s no sum of money that could take me away from you, no career that is more important than the way I feel for you. When we are together, I’m whole. And that’s all that matters.”
Tears pricked at my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Crying was for times of sadness, and I’d had enough of them. Matthew’s words filled the hole in my chest like a vase with colorful sand in joyous swirls and spirals of life. The more he poured in, the more fragile it became. One wrong move and the vase would crack, and the sand would slip away, lost forever, washed away by the tears threatening to fall.
“I’m sorry it’s come to this, Matthew,” I said. “I never meant...I’ve always loved you...I didn’t know—”
“You don’t owe me an answer,” Matthew said, exhaling with a huge sigh that resembled relief. “But I had to know if you’d chosen to let your affections stray elsewhere. I couldn’t wonder for an eternity if I’d lost you because I hadn’t told you how I felt.”
“I hope this will show you how I feel,” I whispered against his cheek, before dragging a kiss along his neck and ending on his lips. I let my body press firmly against his and tugged at him, desperate to be closer. “I want to be with you more than anything else, Matthew. It’s been a long, confusing road, but all paths lead back to you no matter how far I try to run.”
Matthew needed no more invitation. In the next moments we were wrapped together, spiraled around one another. Clothing fell to the floor, bedsheets twisted and ripped. The headboard slammed against the wall as Matthew pulled me to his chest—
And then the steady buzz of a Comm drew us to a perfect freeze.
Matthew sat beneath me. My arms circled his neck. I had on only a lacy set of underwear while Matthew was down to his boxers.
“It can wait,” he said. “I need—”
“It doesn’t matter what we need,” I said, pulling back. “We’ll pick this up later. It might be Marcus.”
Matthew’s hand closed around my wrist. “No.”
“But—”
“I need an answer, Dani. Now,” Matthew said, his eyes unrelenting. “If you want this as much as I do, some things will have to change.” His gaze trailed toward the Comm. “I refuse to let us walk in ambivalence again. I want you, Danielle. I’m ready to be together. Are you?”
“Yes.” The word eased out before I was able to logically process it, but I knew that was my only answer. I’d grieved Trenton. I’d fought to get over Matthew. Nothing had helped. Whether or not I was ready, there was only one option for me, and I realized that fully. “But for now, this has to wait.”
Matthew pulled my face to his for a hard, fast kiss. Then he let go, stood, and reached for his Comm.
“Captain King,” he said gruffly.
I climbed from bed, well aware that Matthew’s eyes were locked on my body as I dressed quietly. While I was mildly frustrated that we’d been interrupted, it was for the best. We needed time to process our decisions, to come to terms with the meaning of it all—outside of the bedroom. Not under the haze of love and lust, and the heady combination of both.
“What is it?” I asked as he ended the call. His gaze was averted, which meant the news wasn’t good. “Who was that?”
“Nash,” he said. “He went with Marcus to track Damien. They’ve got him located, but Damien’s on the run. They’re closing in on him, and I need to go help.”
I tuned out halfway through Matthew’s explanation when a realization of my own struck. My pulse quickened and my limbs went numb with a sudden epiphany. I collapsed onto the bed, my head falling into my hands as everything came together in one perfect puzzle.
“I snapped my head up and looked into Matthew’s eyes. “My God. I know what the bastards are after.”
“Dani—”
“Go after Damien,” I said, strapping my Comm onto my wrist. “I’ll meet you later.”
“Where are you going?”
I narrowed my gaze at Matthew. “Home.”
Chapter 23
My adrenaline raced at full force as I hurried home.
Suddenly, everything made perfect sense. As I jogged to the pizzeria, flicking through the facts in my mind, I realized they were all there. The clues were all laid out in a perfect little web.
I burst through the front door of the pizzeria, so lost in my musings that I barely registered how bizarrely out of place I looked panting in the entryway to DeMarco’s Pizza.
“Carry on,” I mumbled to the staring patrons. “Nothing to see here.”
“Dani?” Jack asked. He’d been mid-pizza-serving when I’d crashed through the door, and he scrutinized me carefully as I entered. “What’s wrong?”
I narrowed my own gaze at him, still peeved from his morning’s show, and growled. “Where’s Willa?”
“She’s upstairs with—”
“Thanks,” I said, then blew by him. I’d save Jack’s lecture for later.
I made quick work of the stairs and the narrow hallway on the second level, then let myself into the apartment with a touch of the doorknob. Fighting to appear calm, I stepped through and scanned the room. I didn’t have to look far because Willa and Tink were sitting at the kitchen table with teacups and biscuits strewn around them, coloring on sheets of paper Willa had probably dug out of a neglected drawer.
“Hello,” Willa chirped, giving a guilty glance at the biscuits. “Just having a little snack. How are you, Detective?”
Tink didn’t bother to look up. She bit her lip, focused on the drawing in front of her.
“I’m good,” I said. “Actually, I was wondering if I could talk with Tink for just a moment.”
“Are we sure that’s a good idea?” Willa asked, her voice rising like an escalator until it reached squeaky proportions. “I think Tink is probably pretty fragile right now, and—”
“It would be very helpful to her mother’s case,” I said through clenched teeth. “Do you mind if I take over for a second?”
Willa stood, squeezed Tink’s hand. “Alright, lovebug. You keep on coloring, and my friend Dani is going to ask you some questions, okay?”
Tink chomped on her lip but didn’t respond.
“She’s a little shy,” Willa said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
I had no argument left in me, so I merely shrugged and sat in an empty seat at the table next to Tink. Willa took that as an affirmative and plunked herself down on the other side of Tink, picking up a crayon and pretending not to listen as she scribbled messily on a deformed looking picture of a sunshine.
“Hi, Tink,” I said. “Remember me? We met this morning, and I’m the one who is trying to help you and your mom.”
Tink hummed, and I took that to mean she understood and wasn’t afraid. Though she wasn’t exactly chatty, which could make my next task difficult.
“Tink, I know my next question is going to be a hard one,” I said, “but I could really use your help. Do you have a special power?”
She continued humming, but ended the stanza with a brief nod.
“I thought so,” I said. “What is your special power?”
“A tree!” Tink turned her paper around and showed me a purple and pink trunk with leaves. “For you.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the paper and tucking it lovingly—I hoped—against my chest. “But we really need to discuss these powers. Can you tell me what they are?”
Tink stuck her tongue between her te
eth. “I’m an elf.”
“Exactly,” I said, “and I know that some elves have special powers. Little girl elves, and mama elves. Like you and your mom. Am I right?”
Tink closed her mouth as her face went pale. She shook her head.
“I know it’s a secret,” I said. “But I really, really need you to help me with this.”
“We don’t tell,” Tink said in a hushed, frail whisper. “We don’t tell about our powers. Those are the rules.”
“I know, and you can trust me with your secret, I promise.”
Tink shook her head, more firmly.
“Hey, Tink,” Willa said, leaning closer. “I have a secret to tell you. And it’s that you can trust Dani, okay? Your mama sent you here for a reason—to help her. Dani is working hard to get your mom back safe and sound, but you were brought here for a reason, and I think you know that.”
Tink looked down, hungrily eyeing the crayons.
Willa fished her another piece of paper, and as Tink went desperately to work scratching out all white spaces with a blood red crayon, Willa continued. “I’m going to leave the room because I know you don’t want to tell people about your secrets. But you can trust Dani. In fact, she has a special secret of her own.”
“You do?” Tink looked up at me. “A secret power?”
I gave a grateful glance to Willa and then nodded at Tink. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I can see Residuals. Do you know what those are?”
Tink hesitated for a moment, then shook her head.
“You know a spell, don’t you?” I said. “I’m going to leave the room. I want you to say your spell quietly so I can’t hear it—any simple spell—and when I come back, I’ll be able to tell you exactly what it was.”
Tink looked intrigued and gave a floppy nod.
I pushed my chair back and left the room, making loud noises as I closed the door and moved down the hallway. A minute or so later, Willa appeared at the door and gestured for me to return.
I walked into the room, scanned the air, and then flashed a grin at Tink. “You trickster,” I said. “You didn’t do any spells.”
