“Tomorrow? Damn it, Sophia. This is almost as bad as what Ivory did.” She sighed heavily, flicking away the torn piece of aglet from her shoe. “What’s wrong with Charles’ parents again?”
“They’re putting a new addition on their house. Charles offered to help.” Not the best lie, but I needed to tell her something. “Earthquake damage, or something, I think.”
“So you’ll only be gone for a little while.”
“It’s a big addition.”
“You aren’t telling me something.”
I frowned, thinking she might believe me if I looked hurt by her assumption. It was low, but I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t tell her the truth. “Why would I keep anything from you?”
“It’s fine. Go. Have a good time.”
“Lauren?”
Her eyes were getting puffy, and she dabbed them with the inside wrist of her shirtsleeve. It only made her eyes redder.
“I’m going to visit,” she said. “I’m just upset, okay?”
She smiled through her tears, and that was what killed me: It was her usual smile, one I’d always thought of as real, and now I wondered how much hurt might have always been hiding beneath it.
Lauren insisted on coming back to Charles’ house to help clear out the things we couldn’t bring with us or leave behind. She even agreed to watch after Red.
Around eleven o’clock, we said our goodbyes. I took a mental snapshot of her standing beneath the porch light outside my front door: Lauren in a tweed, knee-length coat. Lauren in dark blue jeans. Lauren in black rain boots with white polka dots, her skin splotchy and her make-up running.
She turned, cage in hand, and walked away.
ADRIAN WAS ALREADY GONE, probably out tying up his own loose ends. Charles looked up at me from the couch.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly.
“No.” I hung my scarf and jacket on the coat rack, kicked my boots in the corner by the door, and stalked into our room.
Charles followed. I could hear him standing behind me in the doorway, feel the sympathy radiating from his body. I stared out the window. The first drops of rain splattered against the windowpanes and beaded together to trail like small veins over the glass.
Charles walked over and placed his hand on my shoulder. Immediately, I caved, turning toward him, and he folded me into his arms.
I buried my face against his chest. I’d lost a lot of people in my life, but this was my first time saying goodbye. My emotions crashed through me. I’d never gotten to say goodbye to my mom, to my dad.
Charles breathed into my hair, and I sighed heavily. I needed to let go of my past. Really let go.
“I’m terrified of what’s going to happen tomorrow.”
Charles nodded. “You don’t have to do this.”
Didn’t I, though? I needed to set aside my need for acceptance from others and worry about accepting myself, my damned ‘gift’ included. And the only way to do that was to use my abilities for something meaningful. Like standing up to the Maltorim and their prejudices against dual-breeds.
I looked up into Charles’ piercing gaze. “I do have to do this,” I said. “I absolutely do.”
I stepped away from him, determined to focus on something else. I still needed to work on my gift. The stronger I was, the better our chances of rescuing his parents. I sat on the edge of the bed, peeled off my socks, and grounded my feet on the carpet. I centered my energy on a small book resting on the birdcage table near the bedroom door. It thudded immediately to the floor, creating a tent of crushed pages.
I growled under my breath. How was I supposed to be strong enough in time to face the Maltorim if I couldn’t move a stupid book?
Rubbing my hand over my face, I crouched down, but Charles beat me to it, his gaze burning into mine. He set the book on the table, the intensity of his gaze dissolving my barriers.
I walked over to the bedroom window and looked out to the yard. Empty.
Moments later, Charles walked up behind me and wrapped one arm around my waist. He swept the hair from my neck and pressed a kiss against my pulse.
“Take a break. You have all night.” He punctuated his words with a soft nibble.
I tried to tamp down the arousal his lips created as they tickled against the fine hairs on my neck. Useless effort, that.
“I don’t have all night,” I said, my words shielding my desires. “I need to sleep.”
“Sleep on the plane.”
I turned toward him, closing my eyes as his hands massaged my neck, his grip slowly loosening as he moved down the planes of my back. My concerns ebbed at his gentle touch, and I sighed, tilting my face toward his. I wanted his lips pressed against mine—wanted to connect with something other than the pain and fear gripping my heart.
“I’m always here for you,” he whispered, each word relaxing another nerve in my body.
“I want to be there for you, too.”
I kissed his shoulder, and when I lifted my gaze, his lips captured mine. I couldn’t refuse myself this one good feeling—this one escape, these last quiet moments we would spend together.
All this time, I’d battled over whether I should or shouldn’t let myself fall in love with him. As though that were something I could control. I’d worried whether it was ‘smart’ to be in a relationship with an immortal man, knowing we likely had no future together.
Charles, on the other hand, had none of these concerns. For him, it’d always been about my safety. He’d held back in fear of breaking my heart, or perhaps allowing me to break my own. Now I knew we were strong enough to overcome the immortality issue. How, I wasn’t sure, but I would no longer allow that to stand in the way.
Charles’ hands skimmed up my back, dragging my shirt over my head and breaking our kiss. I watched intently as he pulled off his own shirt, revealing his hard, smooth chest. He stepped closer, pressing my back against the wall, the warmth of his chest against mine intoxicating, my want for him flowing through my veins like a drug.
His fingertips traced along my collarbone, his lips trailing behind as he slipped his finger beneath my bra strap and slid it off my shoulder, the heat between my thighs intensifying with each brush of his lips. Slowly, my worries melted away. He dropped my bra to the floor, and I pushed it aside with my toes.
As I unfastened his jeans, one button at a time, a strong mix of love and lust radiated from him, and I eased away from the wall, stepping closer. He was staring at me with an intensity that was new even for him, his gaze sweeping over my bare skin—skin that felt flushed with desire.
He brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. “We’ll make it through this.”
“I hope you’re right.”
I kissed his chest once, then leaned my head there, my breasts pressed against his warm stomach. A sigh escaped with his breath and the evidence of his passion grew harder, pressing against my body, just above my hip.
My skirt pooled with the clothes on the floor, and he eased me onto the bed, tracing his fingers along my hairline and down the side of my face, his eyes filled with a familiar, steady heat. Warmth swirled in my stomach and spread through my body. I tilted my chin closer to his face, the distance between our lips shrinking to nothing more than a breath. His hand seared a path down my abdomen, onto my thigh, and his gentle massage sent fiery currents through my body.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
We’d never taken things this far. I’d always been sure I wanted to give myself to him, but my stomach still twisted with nerves.
“Sophia?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
His lips explored my breasts, the swell of my hips, the insides of my thighs. His tongue traced the edge of the fabric of my underwear, nudging it aside to kiss me there. I curled my fingers in his hair as his hands fanned across my belly and pressed into the dip, then lowered my underwear from my hips.
“I love you, Sophia.” His words mingled with kisses over my body as he s
lowly returned to capture my lips with his. The taste of his breath, like mint and vanilla, sent new shivers through my body. “And I want you. Forever, always. Whatever it takes.”
Caressing the strong lines of his neck and shoulders, I drew him closer. “I love you, too.”
His body hovered over mine, leaving me eager for connection. Somewhere along the way, his clothing had joined mine on the floor, and as he lowered himself to kiss me again, his bare thighs rubbed against mine, and anticipation robbed me of my breath.
“This is okay?” he asked, his mouth pressed to my ear.
I nodded, my throat too tight to offer a verbal response. I couldn’t deny the throbbing between my thighs, that I wanted him where he was, his body deliciously warm. His breath warmed my neck as he nudged against me, entering slowly, and his gentle kisses on my shoulder relaxed my nerves as he eased in deeper, slowing again at any small gasps that escaped my lips.
His heart thudded against my own as he pressed closer, his body rocked forward, and a soft moan rode my sigh as he moved his mouth to mine and deepened the kiss. The pressure of him inside of me created another kind a pressure—a building need for release. His fangs slowly extended and grazed my lip.
The importance of everything beforehand and everything ahead dissolved. I pushed my bottom lip against one of his fangs and winced as it pricked my flesh. My blood slipped between his lips and slid between our tongues as we kissed.
Charles pulled back, searching my eyes. We both knew even a small amount of my blood would strengthen him. He hadn’t had human blood in years, but he needed this.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, and he kissed me again, sucking gently on my lip.
The kiss tangled me in a web of arousal; my mind became lost, free, uninhibited. Our shallow breaths unified, our bodies bound together, the pressure building, stronger, more intense. Sinful. And yet, in that moment, all my guilt was stripped away.
I’d expect my first time to be awkward. Painful. With Charles, it was anything but. My body surrendered and waves of ecstasy stole away my conscious thoughts. All that remained was blissful nothingness—a sense of oneness with the man I loved and peace over all that lay ahead.
Charles propped on one elbow at my side, his hand drifting over my curves, and I studied his face unhurriedly, feature-by-feature, as if I hadn’t already memorized the lines of his face, his strong jaw line, the greenish hue of his chin stubble. As if I hadn’t already memorized the way his eyelashes crinkled together and the way his chest felt hard but still warm and welcoming beneath my hand.
He stroked the damp curls away from my face and kissed my brow, and I buried my head in the hollow between his neck and shoulders. We fit perfectly together.
I drifted between wisps of sleep for what felt like hours, though the clock indicated only minutes had passed. My heart sank. Time to leave these stolen moments behind. Our intimacy had resolved many of my unwanted emotions, but one still lingered: fear. Fear of losing Charles, of losing the one person I could be myself with completely. I breathed a sigh of resignation and stared up at him.
“Forever, Sophia,” he promised. “We’ll find a way.”
We showered and slipped into some fresh clothes, then dedicated the next few hours to working on my gift. Object manipulation became easier; items floated from one place in the room to another, some with little more than a quiet thought. A pillow. A chair. A table. Some of the larger items required more concentration, however, and the weight, shape, and size of the objects were definitely a factor.
The ultimate test was lifting a human body. Charles lay on the bed, and I focused on his form. Looking at him rekindled the passion inside me, strengthening me enough to lift him a foot from the mattress.
Perhaps my Wiccan training held truth after all: love was strong enough to ignite my powers.
{twenty-four}
CHARLES AND I ARRIVED at the airport—a little gray slip of a building—at four in the morning. The circles under Charles’ eyes were almost purple-black, his eyes bloodshot, his hair unruly. He wore the same clothes as the night before, rumpled and unwashed.
As we passed the two check-in booths, my black dress and heavy makeup garnered a few odd stares. Adrian had suggested darkness would cloak me better outside the Maltorim’s asylum if I dressed in black. Only my full-length Gothic dress I’d worn as part of a Halloween costume several years ago had fit the bill. I’d also straightened my hair and smeared some heavy black make-up over my eyelids to disguise my appearance.
I still looked like me, but the changes might be enough to deter those who had only seen me a handful of times.
Or so I foolishly believed.
We followed a nearby hallway to a blue-framed window. Adrian had instructed us to tap once, wait, and tap again three more times. So I did.
A door opened further down the hall, and an older man with ruddy cheeks and a graying mountain-man beard waved us over. Once we entered the room, he eased the door shut.
“You the ones booking for Damascus?” He threw a narrow glance over his shoulder then turned to shuffle a mess of papers on his desk. “Thought there’d be three of ya.”
“Our friend will be here soon,” Charles said. “He needed to eat before the flight.”
The man huffed. “He ain’t no bloodsucker, is he? Cuz I don’t fly no bloodsuckers, that’s for damn sure.”
“I don’t blame you,” I said.
Maybe if I agreed with him, he’d be more open to hearing what we had to say. Normally I wouldn’t say one word more than I needed, but we didn’t have time to beat around the bush.
“It was Cruor who kidnapped his parents”—I jabbed my thumb toward Charles—“and that is where we are heading now. To save them.”
“That right?” The man sat in his chair and swiveled toward us. He swept his hand to a few spare seats, and we sat.
So much for Adrian’s claim of ‘no questions asked’.
Without any other route to Damascus, our best bet was to gain whatever little compassion this man might have, so I risked laying everything on the table, from the news of the Liettes to our plan to rescue them.
“We wouldn’t have known if our friend hadn’t told us,” I said in closing. “He’s not like other Cruor.”
The man leaned forward. His breath, heavy on my face, reeked of coffee and cigarette smoke. “Listen here, Miss. Clearly you didn’t hear me the first time. I said: I. Don’t. Fly. No. Fucking. Bloodsuckers.”
“Why the hell not?” I demanded.
“I’m a blocker, and ain’t many of us left.” The man’s gaze locked on Charles, one forearm leaning on his knee. “Last thing I need to do is get mixed up with the likes of them.”
A blocker? What did that mean?
“Well,” Charles said. “I’m Strigoi and Cruor. So now you’re mixed up with us. We aren’t all the enemy.”
“I see,” the man said, his expression softer now.
I couldn’t read his thoughts. Whether that was because he was human or because he was a blocker, I didn’t know.
He scratched his beard. “Fine,” he said. “Guess I can’t in good conscious stand back while the dual-natured are targeted. I’ll help, but don’t say nothing about it. Name’s Rhett.”
Just as Charles and I were introducing ourselves, the door creaked on the other side of the room. Adrian let himself in, smiled, and put out his hand.
“I’m Adrian.”
“I know who you are,” Rhett said, ignoring the offer for a handshake. “No funny business. Let’s go.”
Rhett led us outside to a dark-blue plane on the tarmac. I’d never taken a flight before. I’d never even left Colorado. At least I wouldn’t have to see the world outside whipping past the windows—but that’s only because there were no windows, aside from the front windshield.
Funny, since Rhett had acted as though he didn’t fly Cruor.
The passenger area consisted of four navy leather seats with a small table between. Once we settled in, the stair
s closed back against the plane.
“This thing safe?” I asked.
Rhett grumbled something unintelligible, followed by, “Course it’s safe. Safer than any of those other planes you been flying in, and faster, too. My plane is better, you’ll see. I’ll have you there in three hours.”
The fabric of Adrian’s seat creaked as he sat forward. “About that . . . ”
Rhett turned back around. “What now, kid?”
I smiled, drawing his attention. “Could you decrease your speed by half? We need to arrive at night.”
He frowned. “See, this shit right here is why I don’t fly you bloodsucker types. I do this, and you don’t ask me for nothing else the rest of this trip. We’ll touch down around eight p.m., their time. Good? Now shut up and let me fly this thing.”
I mouthed the words ‘thank you’ at the back of his head and sunk deeper into my seat as Rhett closed himself into the pilot’s cabin. The plane’s engine sputtered to life and continued in a steady, muffled roar.
Charles switched on an overhead light. The plane rattled down the runway, picking up speed. I gripped the armrests and glanced from Adrian to Charles. Both men relaxed back in their seats. I took this to mean the plane’s shaking was normal.
Now that we were actually on the plane, everything was catching up to me. My friends, my family, the whole situation.
“Do you think we’ll ever come back?” I asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” Charles’ voice deadpanned, his mouth twisting into a grim line. “Thalia’s coterie will be looking for us now that the Maltorim is after us. It wouldn’t be wise to return.”
We were disappearing forever. Just like Ivory. Her name created a pang in my heart. I couldn’t help but miss her, even after what she’d done, and I couldn’t shake my guilt over stealing her memories. When she woke in her Boston summer home with gaps in her memory, would she at least remember she was an earth elemental?
I took a deep breath. I hadn’t stolen all of her memories—she couldn’t have been thinking of ‘me’ during every moment spent with her sire.
Charles’ chest puffed out and his glassy stare settled on my hands. I was picking at my fingernails and my cuticles had started to bleed.
When Darkness Falls - Six Paranormal Novels in One Boxed Set Page 78
