Red Hot Alphas: 11 Novels of Sexy, Bad Boy, Alpha Males (Red Hot Boxed Sets Book 2)

by Jo Raven

  “I found you in William’s arms, on the wooden floor of the barn. You had jumped from the top of the ladder and missed the hay.

  “William told us later on that he was trying to lure a fox that was outside, interested by the chicken in the coop, and he hadn’t seen you jump then. He had had no time to tell you to stop. He told us you both did this on a regular basis, that you ‘flew’ from the top of the barn directly into the hay together.”

  I had a very clear memory of those times—amazing moments. But I couldn’t remember hurting myself.

  “I remember now that I saw a strange spot on the floor of the barn,” I say, eyes wide open. “Mom told me then that … that a horse gave birth there once, and some blood had stained the wood. Was it— was it really mine?”

  “Yes,” Emily nods. “You died that day. You were covered in blood from head to toe, and your bones were broken.” Her voices strangles when she adds, “Your neck was not hanging in the right direction.”

  “Oh my God!” I exclaim. “But— But how—”

  “That’s what we’re here to talk to you about,” Emily says, her hand searching for Sandra’s, and I suddenly remember Sandra’s presence at our table.

  “Sandra here has been with us for almost fifteen years,” Emily says, changing the subject. “She’s trustworthy, she’s been entirely devoted to William and our family. She’s not a usual housekeeper. She is very special.”

  “Wait a minute,” I interrupt. I had too many questions about my death. “Please don’t change the subject. Tell me what happened, and why I am still here.”

  “William … got you back.”

  “Got me back … how?” A shiver runs down my spine.

  “He traded his soul for your life.”

  I am so shocked at her words that I cannot utter a single word. I feel my throat closing on itself, and breathing becomes harder. Emily takes advantage of my silence to finish explaining things to me.

  “I always knew William was magical, but I never thought much about it. There was his uncanny empathy with animals, of course, but he also had some powers that were impossible to explain. He could influence the elements—barely, but it was already amazing. He could make plants grow, lift small feathers in the air with his mind, that kind of thing. We never encouraged it, but we never smothered it either.

  “But when he was near you, it was unbelievable. It’s like you took everything out of him and multiplied it by a thousand. It was something we asked him to keep to himself, because we didn’t want people to know about his magic, but sometimes it’s all I could do to cover his powers while he was near you. We kept silent in front of your parents. You? You didn’t seem to notice there was something unusual about William. You accepted that his magic was a part of him, like you would have accepted that he had brown eyes or blue ones.

  “When I arrived in the barn, he had summoned a demon with his despair. It was tall and terrifying. I almost threw up then and there when I saw it.

  “The demon had probably thought that it was a good deal to get the soul of someone so young, so untainted, so full of capabilities and magic.

  “William accepted the demon’s offer before I could fully understand what was going on, before I could even think of interrupting. I’m not sure I could have done anything about it, but—and forgive me for my directness—if I had known what he intended to do, I would have tried to stop him with all the means in my power. I would not have let my own son barter his soul for your life, as much as I like you as a person.”

  A tear trails down Emily’s cheek as she delves into more details.

  “Your injuries disappeared, but you were still barely hanging on to life. I screamed for help and your parents came running. We rushed you to the hospital. No one knew better than I did what a sacrifice had been made to keep you alive, and what a horrible waste it would be should you have died anyway.

  “While we were all waiting to know whether you would recover, I took William aside in another waiting room of the hospital, away from everyone. I was so angry. But William wouldn’t let me scold him. He told me everything—how he loved you so much he couldn’t let you die, how he felt it was his fault because he took his eyes off of you for a split second, and how you had jumped into the air because you really believed you could peacefully fly, like a feather, right to the hay … when in fact it was William’s magic that helped you do that.

  “I was distraught. I couldn’t hate you, even so, because you were innocent—William and you were both innocent children, bound to make mistakes. I blamed myself for so long. I should have made sure that you weren’t putting yourself in danger, but I trusted my son so much—he was such an old soul for his age. You were sick for a long time, and the recovery was hard. You were in a coma for a week. And then you got better.

  “When we were sure you were out of danger, I became obsessed with the deal William had made with that devil. I searched and explored all options, buying a lot of books about magic and demonology, making sure our fortune was put to good use by hiring the best investigators in the country to find the right people to help us.”

  Emily’s hand grabbed Sandra’s, as she continued.

  “Everyone who works here has been selected for their special talents. They have all been invested in William’s health and future, and have come to care for him. They’ve all taught him about his powers and pooled their knowledge to secure the mansion and the estate, so that the demon could not come back and claim William’s soul.”

  A lot of things made sense now, as I could think about them without the cloud around my childhood memories. I had not dreamed that part: we did fly in the barn, from the top of the ladder to the stack of hay a few meters below. It was not a blurred, dream-like, childhood-nonsense memory. It was true.

  This information shakes me up a little bit. “You said earlier that William is still here? What do you mean by that?”

  “This was Sandra’s idea,” Emily says. “She found interesting information in William’s old diaries and shared it with me.”

  William’s old diaries? I feel outraged for a second at the thought they went through them—and that I wasn’t even told they existed. But very quickly the big picture becomes obvious to me: I was going to know more about what happened to my husband. Maybe something in there could help me help him.

  “He wrote in one of them that he had found a way to get his soul back.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE WARDS

  At nightfall, after a full day of errands, I can finally run to the cemetery. I cannot wait any longer to hear William’s version of what I heard this morning.

  I spent an hour listening to Emily’s and Sandra theories, and I think they’re really close to the truth—they’re just missing one key piece of information, information that only I have.

  Well, Derrick and I.

  I have no idea what his role is in all this, but I am determined to find out.

  Once again, as I arrive near William’s grave, I smell something awful—much stronger than the other day. It is foul, like a thousand rotten eggs or rotten flesh. I have no idea where it is coming from, but I couldn’t smell that stench from the house. My first reaction is wondering what causes it—could it be supernatural? It wouldn’t be that far-stretched…

  William is standing on his tombstone. Around him, waves of bluish smoke circle, fog-like, oozing and trying to reach him. I panic.

  “Oh my God, William!” I call, pointing at the shrinking circle. “What’s happening here? Are you all right?”

  William’s head shoots up. He looks at my hand and then at me, in wonder.

  “You can see it?” he asks, surprise on his face.

  “Damn straight I can see it! What is it?”

  “It’s the property’s shield, it’s shrinking faster and faster. At first, a few hours after I passed, I was able to move around the estate freely at night. But I’ve quickly been stuck around the cemetery. And now it’s strangling my grave. I have no idea how to escape fr
om here, nor what will happen to me when it closes in on me completely.”

  He sounds way too off-handed about it; I don’t like the tone of his voice.

  “How come I can see it now? Why didn’t I notice it bef— oh.”

  I realize what happened since yesterday. The only change that was made was that awful migraine … the one William blamed Derrick on.

  “Is that what he did to me? Who is that guy, anyway? When I talked to your parents, they told me we have no grave keeper here.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” William says. “I had no idea what I was doing—to me, to you. To anyone. I screwed up.”

  I take a few steps, hesitating in front of the fog. The stench is worse than it was just a minute ago. I take a deep breath despite wanting to puke and jump through the smoke to be with William. Whatever happens, I want to be there. I owe him that.

  We sit on the tombstone, facing each other and holding hands.

  “Your mom ’fessed up everything. You can stop being cryptic. Tell me what happened. I want to hear it from you.”

  William eyes the fog—it’s really close now. “You’re right. You’re my wife, I should have told you everything before marrying you,” he admits.

  “Your mother told me that you … gave up your soul for me?” I gulp, trying not to pour my heart out with the tears that pool into my eyes every time I think about it.

  “I had to do something … I— It was my fault, Constance. I didn’t look after you the way I should have. I had no other choice.”

  “You could have let me die. It was the natural path for me. I should have died that day,” I whisper. “Not that I am not truly grateful to you. I am. But look what is happening to you now … It’s my fault—”

  “I love you, Constance. I have always loved you,” he interrupts. “This is the right path, this was your destiny. I had that option, and I took it, and I’m not sorry I did. I would do it again in a heartbeat, even knowing the outcome of my decision.”

  I kneel closer to him, leaning into his lap, putting my cheek against his chest. Is this what real love is? His chest sounds empty, I can’t hear his heartbeat—but he is here with me despite death, and nothing else counts. My Binniboy, my savior, my childhood love. My first and only love, actually.

  “What happened after that?” I ask. Around us, the smoke twirls endlessly, making me drowsy. “Why did you choose to disappear from my life?”

  “After I made sure you were going to get better, my parents and I had a heart to heart about everything—my powers, the pact I made with the demon, and what we were going to do about it. My father was pretty much ready to give up—he could not deal with all the information, just as he could never believe I was special, even after I demonstrated my magic in front of him. But Mom would not let it go. She knew what I was capable of, and she wanted to protect me at any costs.

  “She started to gather knowledge and people able to help us. After a while, Dad got on board as well, and they focused on protecting me by warding the property. With the wards, the demon could not enter, and he could not claim my soul.

  “None of the people working at the mansion are hired help—well, they are, but not the kind you’d thought. They are powerful witches and wizards, demonologists and men of letters posing as hired help, doing menial jobs just to be close to my magic and protect me. They’re being paid a lot of money for their knowledge and know-how, as well as the … acting skills they have to display when people are around.

  “After a few years, they all became attached to me, and I can say I trust them all with my life. They’re my extended family.

  “But to come back to your question … I could not leave the mansion’s property. The wards would not go far enough, and we couldn’t ward a car nor your house without being conspicuous. We attempted twice to come visit you at the hospital, and twice we had near-death experiences: once the car lost its brakes, and the other time I stepped away from a falling tree just in time. We quickly figured out that the demon was ready to collect my soul as soon as possible—I had not, in my haste to get you back, discussed any time frame with it, so anytime was fair game.

  “If I wanted to survive, I had to stay forever in the mansion and its surroundings.”

  I throw my head back, looking at his eyes now. “I have no words.”

  “You don’t need to say anything, Constance. Mostly, you don’t have to say thank you. I really screwed everything up.”

  “What’s happening now? How come you’re getting trapped here on your grave? This is not something Emily and Sandra talked to me about.”

  “Mom and Sandra really talked to you about me?” he asks, surprised.

  “They did. This morning. They told me there was something strange in your diaries, and that you had found a way to get your soul back.”

  William shakes his head slowly, looking away. “I did, but it didn’t help, though I really tried. I have no one but myself to blame.”

  “Why? Please, confide in me. I am here for you … I— I love you, William,” I say, for the very first time. His eyes dart back to mine, and his hand caresses my chin.

  “I had devised a plan to get my soul back, it’s true. I wanted to, so much, because that would mean we could finally be together, if you still wanted me. I grew up feeling lonely and heartbroken to leave you. As the years went by, the horrible fear that I’d never see you again—even worse, that I’d lose you to another man—became unbearable. The young boy’s love had grown into a man’s desire—still hopelessly dreaming of being with you, but in a more intimate way now. I should be embarrassed to tell you this, but I am not.

  “I knew I had to act quickly. You’ve always been beautiful, amazing … surely you wouldn’t stay single for long. So I made a bold decision—I would trick the demon to get my soul back.”

  I yelped, my hands flying to his shoulders, as if restraining him now could protect him. “What? But that must have been dangerous!”

  “That’s how desperate I was to hold you in my arms again. After all those years, I was at the bottom of the deepest depression, and I would have rather died, right there, Constance, than to resign myself to not having you. I needed a fighting chance, and it was not possible as long as I couldn’t reach you.”

  “How— How about living together here and never leaving the property?” I argue, still feeling shaky at the idea of him confronting a demon.

  “How could I ever justify that? Locking you up, when you deserve all the most beautiful places in the world?”

  “I would have been just as happy anywhere, as long as it was with you,” I counter.

  “You say this now, but this is not the life I want for you, and it would not be fair to you to be subjected to such a lack of freedom.”

  I shut up, still not convinced this was well played. I couldn’t care less about going out shopping or visiting the pyramids or whatever. And in the end, losing my husband so soon was not the better of the two options. I would never have chosen that.

  “As soon as I felt ready, I opened a small crack in the wards that surround our place. They’re hard to tear apart, and had I not done that, they would still be in place today.”

  “Why do they shrink around you, now? I don’t understand.”

  “The property is warded against a lot of things. The supernatural is not linear; it exists on multiple plans, in multiple time lines and dimensions. You can’t have a ‘one size fits all’ ward. It doesn’t work that way.

  “The demonologists worked with the wizards and witches to weave protections together, to make them stronger and more efficient. My mother was very involved in all the planning because she was so adamant about protecting me and never letting anything come in that could harm me.”

  “So that’s why she’s so knowledgeable about all this,” I murmur to myself.

  He nods. “I destroyed the wards—or at least, part of them. I was able to lure the demon inside, that way. It was cocky, that’s why it didn’t think much about me summoning him. I h
ad designed a sort of trap from which it couldn’t escape without my help.

  “In exchange for its freedom, it had to give me my soul back.”

  My heart leaps for joy. “What? You mean got your soul back after all?” I still could not believe it. I should be more prudent and not get my hopes up. He’s trapped here in the afterlife, after all; it’s not all puppies and roses.

  “But you’re still…you’re still dead,” I say questioningly.

  “Yeah, the demon must have been quite pissed with my trick. It sent something else to get me. It must have sent it through the hole in the wards,” he says.

  William’s expression is contrite. “And now I can never go to heaven. They won’t let me go in—not someone who bartered his soul, as selfless as the act was.”

  My hopes crumble. I had told myself not to hope, but in that second it took him to say yes I had built those hopes up anyway.

  “I cannot go to hell either. Not that it’s a bad thing, per se. But I’m stuck here. I’m forever condemned to live here in between our world and the other plane of existence I seem to be alternating to when daylight comes.”

  “Is it … Is it bad, there? Is that where you go during the day?” I ask, not really wanting to hear the truth.

  “There are no words. The only upside is that I got to see you again—and that is worth every torment.”

  I can’t hold it back anymore, and I launch myself into his arms, crying my eyes out.

  “I’m not a ghost, Constance. I’m a will o' the wisp. And once this ward closes up around me, I won’t be able to travel through the portal between your dimension and mine. I will see you, but you won’t be able to see me. Ah, this is agony!” he exclaims, a sob in his voice. I cling more strongly to him, as if that could stop the inevitable.

  “I don’t understand. Emily showed me the ward near the border of your property the other day. I didn’t see it, but she did. She said it was there.” This made no sense to me at all.

  “She saw part of it. It’s composed of multiple parts, and the part that is tightening around me is not tied to it anymore.”