by Kym Grosso
“Because they found me. They always do,” she said, her voice soft.
“Who?” His question was met by silence. “You can trust me. Look, I know we just met but when I give my word, I don’t break it. I swear to the Goddess. If there is anyone here in the city who can protect you it’s me.”
Her magick buzzed under his fingertips. What the hell? How is she doing that? The fortress of the wards in his home, especially his bed chambers, had been specifically designed to block any magick, except for his own. Although she trembled in his arms, her strength was apparent.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised.
“I’ve never been safe,” she admitted.
“You can trust me,” Quintus assured her, sending his calming energy to her.
“The daughters of Salem. Circe coven,” she whispered.
“Circe? As in Greek mythology? Helios’ daughter?”
“Yes. She was a witch. The coven is named for her. Bloodline and rituals are everything. In all they do, they are pure with intent,” she said in a low monotone voice as if repeating a mantra.
“And if you’re not pure?” He’d suspected she was hybrid. “I imagine that’s frowned upon.”
“Justifiable death,” she said, her voice without emotion.
“What are you?” He suspected wolf, but couldn’t be sure.
“It doesn’t matter what I am. What matters is that I’m not pure. I’m tainted.” She curled her fingers onto the fabric of his shirt. “The coven, they won’t stop until I’m dead. The impurity must be removed.”
“Circe? I haven’t heard of them. Tell me more about these witches.”
“They’re orthodox. There can be no mixing of the blood. My parents…” Her voice went silent. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve been on the run for as long as I can remember.”
“How long Gabby? How long have you been running?”
“I was thirteen when I first started so yeah, about fifteen years now I’ve been on the move. But it might as well be a thousand. And it won’t ever end. Not unless I do something about it.”
“Jesus. You were just a kid.” Quintus heard the hopelessness in her voice. “No one deserves to be hunted like an animal.”
“When someone tells you something’s wrong with you over and over…it’s hard to shake. Maybe I’m cursed.”
“Your blood is special. Far from cursed. These witches. Whatever antiquated rituals they follow, they’re wrong, not you.”
“Morality doesn’t matter. They’re powerful. And they always find me.”
“I’ve handled witches before. I’ll admit it’s tricky. Depends on the power of the coven. But whoever is after you, we’ll deal with them.”
“I met this creature in LA once. She said she was a mystic. She told me that I needed the help of an ancient vampire. And it’s funny because my mom, she’d told me about the existence of ancients too. That there’re only a handful of you on the earth.”
“Did she now?” Quintus kept the secrets of his kind close to the vest. They certainly didn’t control other species but they were powerful.
“You bend the rules of the universe. Atoms. Disappearing from one place and reappearing in another.”
“It’s true I can materialize. There’re a few witches I’ve met who can conjure the same sort of magick.”
“True, but this woman said…” she hesitated.
“Do tell.” He gave a small chuckle.
“You can make people believe what you say as truth. You can conjure the magick of Heaven and Hell.”
“My powers are as any other vampire, I assure you,” he lied. It was true that he could create an alternate truth, blinding the victim into believing something they otherwise knew as false.
“You saw through my glamour,” she challenged.
“I’ll admit I saw you flicker for a few seconds in the crypt. It’s true. I see through your magick. I see you.”
“No one has ever seen through my glamour except for Lilitu.”
“And I take it she’s from your coven?”
“The high priestess. But you see, some things, no matter how impure they deem me, my magick is no different than theirs.”
“Your mother was a witch?”
“Yes. She was beautiful. Powerful. All creatures were drawn to her light. She would not be bound by the coven.”
“And your father?”
“I don’t know who he was. She told me he was warlock.”
“But he wasn’t?”
“No, no he wasn’t. He couldn’t have been. And now, I don’t belong anywhere. I am the hunted.”
Outcast. Alone. Gabriella’s emotions danced over his mind. As much as Quintus wanted to block the pain, he suspected she knew of the connection, was allowing him to read her. In the heat of the moment, he held her small form against his and wished he could keep her safe forever.
“That woman I met. She said something about a spell that can be done to break the coven. But I need help. Which okay…like duh. I could hardly do it on my own. Because, believe me, if I could I would. I’ve been running…running so damn long.”
“They won’t find you here.” He pressed his lips to her hair, her enticing scent drifting around him.
“You don’t understand. Ramiel. He knows about me. I don’t know how he found out.”
“Ramiel?”
“He’s the guy who’s expecting my blood. A vampire. He sells it in the underground clubs.” She blew out a breath and continued. “It’s not like I want to sell my blood. I want you to know that. It’s just that I needed money. I don’t usually go in the clubs either. You know, like the night I found you. I was only in there because I was supposed to meet Ramiel. When I go, I always have to use my glamour. But for the most part, I try to stay away from those places. I can’t risk doing too much magick in the open. The coven always finds me. Always.”
“How did you know I was in the club?”
“I didn’t. Like I said, I was just in there to meet Ramiel. But people talk. Everyone was saying you’d been in there. That you weren’t leaving. Before that, I’d been working up the courage to go to Kade for help. I figured he’s the head vampire. He’d know you.”
“But I’m usually in New York.” Quintus stilled as she ran her palm onto his chest, desire twisting through him. He took a deep breath, willing his arousal to cease.
“I didn’t want to go to you directly. People say…”
“People say what? I’m sure I’ve heard it all.” A corner of his mouth ticked upward.
“You’re dangerous.” She bit her lip.
“I am,” Quintus answered honestly.
“You kill people.”
“I do.” Not without reason.
“I was afraid.”
“You weren’t afraid in the crypt.” Quintus recalled how she’d chained him. “You do not fear me, pet?”
“Yes. No.” Gabriella grazed her leg against his and went still as if she knew what she’d done. “Maybe…it’s just…I couldn’t leave you in there.”
“You needed me alive,” Quintus said, disappointment in his tone. Why was it important to him that there was another reason? He didn’t even know her.
“I needed to try to save you. I know what my blood does. It’s why I sell it. It makes people feel good.”
“But this Ramiel. He knows too.”
“He also knows…about the coven.”
Quintus brushed a lock of hair from her face, his pinky trailing over her soft skin. He sensed her fear. “What has he done to you?”
“He…he’s a thug, you know. But this?” She glanced to her arm, trailing her fingers over the raised scars. “I did this to myself. It’s ironic that I can heal others sometimes but I can’t heal myself. I’m supernatural yet these marks aren’t going away.”
“He’s hurt you. I can feel it. Don’t lie to me.”
“I can’t tell you…” She sighed.
“He’s threatening you now?”
“No, this is my fault. I
should have never told him…”
“Anyone who takes advantage of an injured witch is a predator. He hurt you. Look at your arms.” Anger roared through his gut.
“I don’t want to talk about him.” Ramiel had beaten her once. She’d missed a delivery. The shocking blow to her jaw had been unexpected. Shaking and bleeding, she’d been unable to see clearly and her magick faltered. As his foot connected with her head, the world had gone dark. When she’d woken, he’d texted her, warning that she’d receive worse the next time, that he’d expose her secret.
“I can promise you this. If this guy comes anywhere near you, he’s a dead man. From now on you are under my protection.”
“But he’ll call on the coven,” she replied. “They’ll know I’m in New Orleans.”
“Let them come for you. I’ll destroy them.”
“You don’t understand. They’re not to be trifled with.” She pushed up onto his chest.
“Nor am I.” Quintus heard her pulse race faster.
As her finger brushed against his chest, he resisted looking at her delicate neckline. Her breast spilled out of the robe but she didn’t move to cover herself.
“I’m not scared of you,” she breathed, gazing into his eyes. “You’re…you’re…”
At the hint of her arousal, Quintus rolled her onto her back. She gave a breathy cry but didn’t struggle as he pinned her wrists to the bed. His lips moved to her ear.
“You should be,” he growled.
“I…are you trying to scare me?” she whispered.
He dropped his fangs in response, his lips brushing over her soft skin. “Perhaps you should be scared?”
“Maybe I should be, but I’m not now,” she confessed.
“Something about you…” Quintus pressed his lips to her collarbone. The taste of her stirred an instinctual response. There had only been one other time he’d sensed a connection with a woman, and she’d been ripped away from him. He swore to never to let himself be torn open again, yet as Gabriella’s fingertips brushed over the scruff on his cheek, he nearly lost control.
“Quintus…” she said, her voice husky.
“Shhh,” he murmured.
“But I’m not…”
“You don’t listen well, do you?” Quintus fought his burning desire, holding on by a thread.
“I do, but…” Gabriella’s mouth parted as she lost her words.
Fuck it. Unable to resist, his lips crushed onto hers, commanding her attention. She moaned as his tongue swept against hers. Arousal coursed through him, and his cock turned to concrete as she kissed him back. Tearing his mouth from hers, his lips trailed kisses down her neck. Quintus released her wrists and tugged her robe open, exposing her. His tongue lapped at her rosy peak, eliciting an erotic moan. His teeth itched to slice into her enticing flesh, her blood tempting him.
She trembled, her hips rocking upward, grinding against his hard length as he sucked her taut tip into his mouth. His hand glided between her legs, his fingers delving into her slippery folds. Jesus Christ, she’s so fucking wet for me. He questioned going further, aware she still kept secrets.
“Quintus, yes…please,” she begged.
“Ah, bella.” Just one little taste. Quintus delved a thick finger into her tight core, stretching her.
“Oh my Goddess…I…I…” Gabriella arched her back, her hips tilting into his hand as he fucked her pussy.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you?” His primal instinct urged him to bite her but he resisted.
“Please…ah yes,” she cried as he drove another digit inside her tight channel.
As he drove his fingers inside her, his rigid shaft ached, yearning to make love to the enticing witch. Quintus’ mind spun in arousal and he fought the impulse to drink her blood. Do not bite her. Do not fuck her. This will only complicate things. Control, Quint. Get fucking control.
In the split second he’d regained his will, Gabriella speared her fingers into his hair, pulling him to her breast, and his fangs nicked her skin. Her sweet blood trickled into his mouth and he sucked at her essence. Gabriella screamed his name as he relentlessly penetrated her hot core, his thumb flicking over her swollen clit.
“No…don’t stop. Please,” she cried as he licked over the wound, lifting his head.
Quintus, determined not to fuck up the situation any further than he had, placed a kiss to her breast, and reached for the edge of her robe.
“What are you doing?” Gabriella panted.
“We can’t. As much as I want you, we can’t do this. It’s not right.” Quintus shoved off the bed, cursing in pain. He sucked a breath and adjusted his throbbing dick. Fucking idiot. Now look what you’ve done.
“Quintus.” Her eyes filled with moisture as she protectively wrapped her arms around her waist.
“I’m sorry, Gabby. You need to eat something. I’ll be right back.” Detecting rejection in her eyes, he turned his back to her. He should have never touched the witch. With the taste of her blood on his tongue, he’d forever crave what he couldn’t have.
As he walked out of his room, he didn’t look back. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t simply take what he wanted without remorse. Gabriella had come into his life, igniting a fire that should have stayed dimmed.
Quintus bounded down the stairs, plowing his fingers through his thick hair. Jesus, he couldn’t resist the attraction to the brunette beauty. He struggled with the temptation, aware he’d sworn to protect her.
A laugh from the kitchen drew his attention from his spiraling thoughts. Viktor. As Quintus rounded into the kitchen he caught sight of his brother leaning toward a pretty young brunette. Ravenous, the sight of the donor should have pleased him, yet anger coursed through him instead. She was not the one he craved.
“No playing with the food, Viktor. She’s mine. If you want some, get your own.” Quintus looked to the woman and pointed to the hallway. “Second door on the left. Sit on the red sofa, not the white leather.”
“Ah, specific as always. Ever the master.” The corner of Viktor’s mouth drew upward in a wry smile.
“In a world full of chaos, we fill the void with rules.” Quintus snapped his fingers and the woman jumped to her feet, her eyes wide as he raised his eyebrows. “Be quick. I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Jesus, Quint. Could you treat this anymore like business? Feeding is for pleasure as well as sustenance.”
“Eating is pleasure. You enjoyed the eggs, didn’t you?”
“Don’t be an asshole. You need to make it pleasurable for her. Even a cold-hearted bastard like you wouldn’t hurt a donor.”
“I don’t need advisement on this.” Quintus carefully watched the girl as she entered his office, and continued speaking to Viktor. “Gabriella is upstairs. I need you to help me with something.”
“I thought you said you didn’t want me touching the witch.”
“I’m not asking you to bite her, asshole. She needs something to eat. Now,” he growled.
“This is exactly why you shouldn’t harbor humans without a nanny.”
“Humans aren’t children. Besides Gabby’s a witch and she doesn’t need a babysitter.” Quintus rolled his eyes, and opened the pantry. “She needs food. Maybe…oatmeal? It’s nutritious, right?”
“Sort of.” Viktor shrugged. “What the hell do I know?”
“Good enough for now. I’ll get her a proper meal when we get to New York.”
“You’re bringing her to New York?” Viktor scoffed. “You’re joking?”
“Do I sound as though I’m joking? She’s going.” Quintus snatched a mug out of the cabinet and filled it with water.
“We shouldn’t be taking stray witches to New York. We have enough issues as it is.” Victor stared at the oatmeal box.
“It’ll be fine. Absinthe deals with her coven. Jax keeps his wolves on their leashes. For the most part anyway.” Quintus set the cup into the microwave and pressed the start button.
“Speaking
of New York witches. There have been rumors of attacks.”
“There’re always rumors.”
“The vampires are restless. They’re thinking the witches are starting a war.”
“I’ll talk with them, set them at ease. They’ll fall in line.” Or die. It was true that he’d been gone for far too long. His presence in New York was imperative.
“A few witches have gone missing the past week. As far as I know, none of our vamps were involved.”
“It happens. Not our problem.” Quintus retrieved the mug from the microwave and set it on the counter. He tore open a packet of dry oatmeal and poured it into the steaming water. “Do you think she likes it sweet?”
“What?” Viktor wore a look of confusion.
“The oatmeal. Brown sugar? Honey? What do you think?”
“Are you for real? What the hell is wrong with you, Quint? Didn’t you just feed from her?”
“Feed from her? No. No I didn’t.” Quintus blew out a breath in frustration. There was nothing else he could think of but sinking his cock and his fangs into her. If he didn’t feed soon, he worried he’d lose control.
“Jesus Christ. What is so special about her?”
“She needs food. You can’t feed from a human or witch when they’re already compromised; you know that as well as anyone…” Quintus shook his head and opened an overhead cabinet, retrieving a small plastic bear. “Sweet. Definitely sweet. Thanks for your help by the way, asshole.”
“Who the hell cares? She’s just a witch.”
A flare of anger lit and Quintus spun in a flash, shoving Viktor up against the refrigerator. “She. Is not just a witch.”
“What the hell, man?” Viktor pushed at Quintus’ chest but he was unmoved. “There is something special about her. I’m not even going to say it out loud what I think is happening here. But you’d better get your fucking hands off me, bro. Not cool.”
“You will not cross me on this, Viktor,” he growled, releasing him.
“Fuck you too.”
“The witch goes to New York.” Quintus popped the lid off the honey and squeezed it into the porridge. “And before you say another word, you are wise not to speculate on her place in my life.”
