by Zoey Marcel
Chapter Fourteen:
Truth & Lies
Amber walked into Stan’s house when he opened the door and let her in.
“It’s good to see you,” he said cheerfully. “What brings you here, little one?”
She twiddled her thumbs, hating that he would be disappointed in her for her actions. “I had sex with Dane and Carson last night.”
Stan froze, and she had a profile view of him. He didn’t say anything for a long minute. “I knew it was only a matter of time.”
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head, hanging it in expectation of his reproach. “I don’t want to disappoint you, but I feel really strongly about this. I know because of what I did I’ll lose the money, but I want them more.”
Stan’s eyes closed. He inhaled deeply, seeming in pain rather than angry.
“Please say something.”
“There is nothing to say. Sit down.”
She sat, confused when he left the room. When he returned he had a small, intricate box with him.
“Before you give your future to those undeserving fools I want you to know what you’re throwing away.” He set the box on the table for her. “I want you to remember.”
His eyes were ardent, almost pleading.
She opened the box that was lined with red velvet on the interior. Her lips parted when she saw the exquisite heart-shaped ring. The band looked like rose gold and there was a large rose-cut diamond in the center shaped like a teardrop that sparkled and was surrounded by smaller rose-cut diamonds. If she had to guess, altogether the ring was probably a carat and a half. It was striking the way it shimmered.
“This is beautiful,” she breathed. “It looks like an antique.”
“It is,” Stan said cautiously. “It’s from the 1700s. The design is called ‘A Witch’s Heart.’ They were popular then.”
“It’s a romantic way of saying ‘you bewitched my heart,’ huh?” She wasn’t sure how she knew that.
He nodded. “I gave it to you back then. It was your wedding ring.”
Her head flew up, wondering where his poor mind had gone. “What are you talking about?”
“Put the ring on.”
Amber hesitated. Something in his transfixed gaze and the personal nature of the gift startled her. “Stan, I—”
“Put the ring on.”
She slipped the heavy ring onto her finger, stunned when images raced through her head of her and him. In them she wore colonial-style dresses and he wore breeches and other male apparel relating to the 1700s. Still more images of them walking together down the street, talking and laughing in a place that looked like it might possibly be London.
Laughter filled her head. Romantic words and intimate moments with him shot through her mind…like memories, vivid and familiar.
Amber gasped and took the ring off, setting it back in the box and closing the lid carefully. She couldn’t believe what she’d just seen.
“W–what was that? Is there some kind of…spell on this ring?”
Stan gazed at her deeply, seriously. “You remember.”
“Those things never happened. Why do they feel familiar?”
“They did happen, Amber, in another life. You and I were husband and wife in the eighteenth century.” He took her hand in his and caressed her skin with his thumb. “We had a good life together…before you died. We were closer in age back then. We were everything to each other.”
She jumped a little when he stood in front of her and leaned forward at her eye level.
“You still are to me.” His breath fanned her face as he drew near to kiss her.
“Stan, stop!” She scooted her chair back and got up when he stepped back. She dug her fingers through her hair, confused and alarmed. “I don’t know what that was, those things I saw, but I don’t believe in reincarnation. How do I know there isn’t a spell on the ring?”
“There is, to help you remember our life together.”
“Fake memories?”
“Real memories,” he argued, stalking toward her. “You died and it broke my heart, so I did what I had to to resurrect you. Unfortunately it took two centuries to gain the answers I sought.”
“That’s a lie. You couldn’t have lived so long as a human.” She backed away from him, wondering if she should get him some kind of medication to reinstate his sanity.
“I’m a warlock. I can live a long time because of it. I brought you back to life in the late nineties, but you came back as a teenager.”
“Oh god, you use dark magic.” She eyed the door, wishing it wasn’t so far away.
“I raised you and implanted false memories of a childhood you never lived into your head and pretended to be your guardian.”
“Then how do I know you didn’t do that just now?” Amber jumped in her skin when she backed up against the wall.
“You have to trust me on this, little one. I raised you into adulthood until I could find a way to restore your real memories and tell you about our past together again.” He stood in front of her and cupped her cheeks. “And make you my own again.”
“Please.” Her eyes welled. “I don’t want things to change between us. This is fucking with my head.”
“I can give you back all your old memories now that I finally found the spell of remembrance.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Put the ring on, Amber. I want you to remember everything so we can be together that way again.”
Tears dribbled down her cheeks. “I’m so confused.”
“I missed you, little one. I’ll be good to you like before.”
“If what you say is even true, how did you get me back?”
His light-blue eyes darkened. “Does it matter?”
“It does to me.”
“I made a deal with someone.”
“Who?”
“Someone with power. All I had to do was cooperate with him and in return he resurrected you.” Stan’s jaw tightened. “The son of a bitch brought you back as a teenager instead of a woman. He enjoys head games. I waited for you.”
She spoke to keep him from kissing her when he bent his head. “What did he want you to do?”
Stan sighed. “Something I’m not proud of, but after the blood moon we’ll be together forever either in that century or this one.”
“Blood moon?” Her eyes widened and her blood ran cold. “You summoned the Preacher?”
“I had to do it, Amber. I needed another pair of eyes to watch you and a way to bring Ricin up from hell early. Once he does his part, the Blood will be released from Tartarus and he will reward me for my actions by giving you and me eternal life together in the century and place of our choosing.”
“This is crazy. I don’t believe you would really call up beings from Hell or summon murderers just to get what you want. You’re better than that.”
“There is nothing I won’t do to get you back, Amber.” He cradled her jaw and gazed down at her. “You belong to me.”
“I don’t. I belong with my mates.”
He jerked her chin back to him when she looked away, eliciting more tears. “I’m your mate! You were mine before you were theirs. I held you in my arms and took your virginity. You cried so softly when I made you come for the first time. Do you remember, little one, the way you whimpered and said my name, begging me for more?”
Amber choked on a sob.
“You gave everything to me. I won’t let you take it away from me again.”
She searched his eyes for the truth. All she found there was unwavering sincerity. Either he was telling the truth or he was the best of liars. “I don’t know what to believe. What about the will?”
“I made it up to keep you chaste for me until I could find a way to restore your lost memories and then take your virtue again.”
She shivered. “What about the chips part if I lose my inheritance?”
Stan gave a slight roll of his eyes. “During the spell of making the false will I sneezed and those terms were the result. I wasn’t s
ure how to fix it, hence the oddness. I’ve learned a lot since then.”
“You can’t lie to me for years and then expect me to believe what you say.”
His hold on her became firm. “Amber—”
“Just let me go.”
“Where, back to those scoundrels? You were my wife, Amber. You will be again. You enjoyed my touch and when I spanked you.”
Scared as she was, her tears of confusion became mingled with anger when she pushed against him and he pressed himself into her anyway.
She slapped his face hard, hating that he pushed her to it.
Terror flooded every part of her when he grabbed her arm and flung her over the table. Her tears stilled and her eyes pleaded with him.
“Are you really going to rip my heart out like this?” she whispered.
Stan blinked back moisture, mouth slightly opened in shock and eyes filled with anguish. He stepped back and pulled her up. He didn’t say anything, but his expression was vaguely remorseful. This time he didn’t stop her when she headed for the door.
“Amber.”
She flinched and glanced back at him.
He didn’t look at her as he held the ornate box out to her. “Take this. Even if you never wear the ring again, I want you to have it. It’s all I ask.”
She crept toward him, feeling leery and then relieved when she took it from him and he didn’t reach for her. “Thank you.”
She stuck the box in her purse and paused at the door. “I don’t know what to believe, but if you’re hurting because of this, I’m sorry.”
He didn’t say anything.
“I won’t tell anyone about this as long as you send the Preacher back to where he came from and no one else gets hurt. Please.”
Stan hesitated without looking at her. “He won’t bother you anymore.”
“Thank you.” She swallowed, fighting back fresh tears. “Please stay away from me. I think it would be better for both of us.”
“Amber,” he continued when she gave him her attention. “Forgive me.”
The sincerity etched on his face and lacing his tone gave her comfort. “I do.”
“Despite my unconventional methods of getting you back and my regrettable actions a moment ago, I really do love you, Amber.”
She smiled weakly, hurting inside because he’d just destroyed what they had. “I love you, too. Please don’t come around anymore, though. I’m sorry.”
Her heart seized in pain when she saw his eyes squeeze shut and heard the harsh breath of air he took in. She left, feeling crushed and lost.
* * * *
Stan Edwards couldn’t stand the pain ripping through his chest. He was dying inside. Amber’s rejection and lack of faith in him hurt him far worse than her death long ago had. He wanted her to be happy, of course, but she’d been insanely happy with him back then. They both had.
She just needed to remember. Hopefully temptation overpowered her self-control and got her to put the ring on again and fully recall their life together back when they moved as one.
Maybe once she remembered everything she would choose him over bloody Dane and Carson. If she didn’t, then her so-called mates needed to die, slowly, painfully, if not by his hand, then by Ricin’s.
Stan opened the door and let in a man he’d never seen before but recognized instantly. “A new disguise, eh?”
The Preacher nodded and then his body and face changed back into his other disguise, Nathan Preston. “I can’t show up at your house with this face. Dane and Carson would get suspicious.”
“Did you obtain the blood of a virgin yet? The blood moon is tonight.”
Nathan nodded. “It’s Amber’s blood.”
Stan shot him a lethal look. If he hurt Amber he was already dead. “How did you obtain it?”
“When I pounced on her in my lion form I scratched her arm and drew blood. I told you about that. I didn’t do her any serious harm.”
“Yes, then you mentioned having fled from two shifters. I assume the blood came off in the grass as you were running.”
Nathan shook his head. “No. I thought ahead. I scratched my leg with the claws soaked in her blood and then when I was somewhere secluded I wiped the blood off onto a paper towel.”
Stan took the bloodstained paper towel from him. “Are you sure this will be enough virgin blood to summon Ricin?”
“During a blood moon?” Nathan waved him off. “Definitely. He comes up from hell every fifty years for a killing spree as you already know, but during a blood moon he can actually be called up early. Controlling him is the tricky part.”
“He needs to be reined in this time.”
“He can’t be.”
Stan thought of his Amber, wanting to hold her and shelter her from everything evil, although that would mean shielding her from half of what he’d become.
“I want Amber safe.”
“Then stay the hell away from her, or leave Temptation.”
Stan sighed and rubbed his fingers gently over his lidded eyes. “I can’t. The man that Ricin is after lives in this town.”
Nathan sounded entertained. “Oh really? Well, that’s a good thing. The sooner Ricin kills the person, the sooner Nicolai can be freed from Tartarus and send you and your precious Amber some place where her men can’t find her.”
“They’re not her men!” Stan snarled.
Nathan let out a long whistle. “Don’t let the sun go down on your wrath, friend. You must really love her to have spent over two centuries trying to find a way to bring her back from the dead. Still, the way you went about it you might as well have just gone completely off your nut and bargained with the devil himself.”
“I did what I had to.”
“No one is judging you. I’m just saying you picked a bloodthirsty bastard to bargain with. You strike me as more of a quiet, simple man. It’s quite a contrast to imagine you letting an evil clown demon possess you once every fifty years just so you can fuck the same broad over and over again.”
Stan didn’t hit him, though the prick was asking for it. “I learned of Ricin’s ability back in the eighteenth century, but he told me I must let him possess me once every fifty years for two centuries before he would raise Amber from the dead.”
“Do you actually remember those violent rampages he goes on?”
His stomach turned cold. “Sometimes. God rest their souls.”
Nathan bowed his head with a somber expression and made a cross symbol. His short-lived deference faded into a fascinated grin. “So are you actually aware of what Ricin is doing when he possesses your body, or is it like being in a coma until he leaves your body and descends back into hell?”
Stan stared off into space. “He never lets me shut him out when he possesses me. If I’m fortunate the experience is a haze, like fragments from a bad dream. But sometimes when he is feeling especially sadistic he pulls me out of the daze and makes me watch what he’s doing to his victims, has me feel their terror and pain, the thrill their suffering brings him.”
“It sounds rough.”
“It was…in the beginning.” He stared into the past as if in a trance. “I wanted to save them, to spare them the atrocities he subjected them to. I couldn’t because he was in control. I was a victim like they were.”
Nathan listened quietly.
“Then I stopped being a victim, ceased to care anymore. I never wished that for them or enjoyed their misery.” Stan’s tone dropped in pitch, darkened. “Then came the night when I felt nothing for them. No sympathy or brutality—true apathy to their screams. It was either giving them over to Ricin’s will or let my heart suffer an agony worse than any they could have known.”
He turned and looked Nathan in the eye, feeling that same deaf-ear nothingness.
“So I let them die because I wanted to hold the woman I love again more than I wanted to show them mercy.”
Nathan smiled. “Did Amber ask about Oliver?”
“No.”
“Tell me, who’s
the poor bastard Ricin is after this time?”
Stan stared out the window at the setting sun, feeling the darkness closing in as an ancient evil called his name. “Kyle Levitt.”
Chapter Fifteen:
Belonging
Amber was in a daze at the coffee shop. Inside she felt devastated over what had transpired at Stan’s earlier and in a way she felt bad for him. She couldn’t stop thinking about the ring he gave her, the key to her supposed past. If he was lying, then never putting the ring on again would be best.
But if by chance he was telling the truth and they really had shared a life together once, what deep, secret part of herself was she leaving hidden in the dark?
Anger and confusion mandated her inaction while curiosity and the idea of never knowing haunted her down to the very core of her.
How would she ever know what was real and what was fantasy after this in relation to Stan?
Brenda noticed her preoccupied state of mind and came over to the table Amber was seated at. “Hon, you don’t even work today, and you hardly touched your muffin.” The woman got a lopsided grin of mischief. “Your muffin. Is something bothering you?”
Amber drew in a deep, inhaling breath. “If someone told you that you had a past you knew nothing about, like you had amnesia or something and didn’t even know it, would you believe them and let them help you remember?”
Brenda studied her for a moment, the wet sound of her chewing gum the only noise in the empty coffeehouse at the moment. “Well, that depends. Do I trust this person?”
Amber winced, feeling a cloud of devastation hover over her again. “You did once, but they’re not quite as good as you thought, and you don’t know one way or the other if you can trust them or not.”
“Hmm.” Brenda thought for a moment and then blew a big pink bubble that quickly popped and was then sucked back into her mouth and chomped on. “Wow. That’s a tough one. If it was someone I knew well and they didn’t stand to gain anything by lying to me, I might believe them.”
“Would you want to know about your past if you thought they might be telling the truth, or would you leave well enough alone?”
“Damn, such profound questions. You need a triple shot to wake you the hell up.” Brenda patted her shoulder and gave her a friendly smile. “That’s a hard call. I’d want to know about my past because not knowing would drive me ape-shit crazy. Losing memories, especially of people in your life, is to lose a big part of yourself. I wouldn’t want that.”
