by Moore, E. M.
A growl ripped through my throat, but Kayleigh only rolled her eyes.
“Don’t fight,” Delilah said. She stared up at the ceiling, trying to regulate her breathing. “Please.”
I took her hand and squeezed. I didn’t know what was going to happen after this, but I wasn’t going to let Delilah out of my sight again. I’d woken from that short nap at the estate with a horrible feeling that Delilah wasn’t going to be okay. I’d been right. Galen hadn’t needed much convincing to follow the girls here. And then we’d waited, using our super hearing to hear what was going on inside. Lowlife. To think that Delilah could’ve played any part in what I’d planned. Greenie must’ve been deranged.
I pulled her up in my arms, apologizing when she grimaced. I sank my nose into her neck, breathing in deep. She smelled like the metallic scent of blood and injury, which usually would’ve sent me into a hungry spiral, but we were talking about Delilah here.
Maybe I had more of a heart than I realized.
I carried her out to the car, and Kayleigh drove us back over to the house. By the time we got there, Galen’s guy was gone, and that left us with the last thing to do. I laid Delilah on the couch, placing the phone in her hand. “Like we discussed,” I whispered. “All the cameras were cut as of midnight yesterday, so it looks like they just stopped recording and no one knows why. They’ll be going off your descriptions alone then.”
She nodded. “I remember.”
I looked at Galen and Kayleigh, and they began to walk back out of the house. When they were gone, I crouched down next to Delilah. “You can do this.”
“Where are you going to be?” she asked. Her eyes turned glassy once more. When I’d first met her, she was a determined thing, larger than life. Now she just looked broken. I wanted to mend her. I wanted to build her up again. For all the tearing down her grandfather did, I wanted her to live her life to the absolute fullest, whether she wanted me in it or not.
“I’ll be wherever you want me to be.”
“Don’t go too far then,” she said, her voice thick.
With those few words, my insides cracked. I closed my eyes. Right in front of me was everything I never knew I’d need. I bent over and kissed her forehead. “I’m right here. I’m everywhere.”
I stood. She held onto my hand as long as she could while I walked away, but finally it dropped. I was torn on whether to leave her or not. These next couple hours would be hell on her, but on the other hand, I was ready to start rebuilding her life. She deserved so much more than what he’d ever given her.
There was one thing I was certain of now. There were a lot of things that did not matter in our lives. Things that we placed on pedestals. Money, titles, stature. But in reality, it was the things that came more easily that mattered most. Love, and loyalty. I used to think that feelings—that love—were the hard things in life. But, it was the easiest thing I’d ever done.
I looked behind me to find Delilah pushing the call button on the phone and realized I was a goner from the moment I met her. It had happened just like that, and there was nothing I, or her, could’ve done to stop it.
* * * * *
I sat in the hospital room night after night. Delilah had to have surgery to fix tendons in her shoulder, so she could use it properly again. I was a fixture at her bedside. The nurses all knew me as her boyfriend. My decrepit, damaged heart fluttered when Delilah introduced me as that. Stupid, but true.
Galen and Kayleigh returned to the estate right away to keep things in line there. I’d been gone so long, Galen had to tell me about the trouble they’d been having with the local humans. It turned out there was a sect nearby of vampire haters. Not many knew we existed, but if they did, they usually hated us. Unless they were Kayleigh, or Delilah. And even then, it took some convincing.
I wasn’t sure where Delilah and I would go. I would go wherever she wanted. If she wanted to live at the estate, fine. If she wanted to live in Hawaii, fine. Wherever she wanted, we would go.
The lawyers had been in to talk to her. She was inheriting everything from her grandfather, a legacy in the millions of dollars. She was shutting down his business and moving away. That much I’d already heard her say. It wasn’t safe for her at the house anymore, but she would have to worry about the people who got their livelihood from her grandfather who wouldn’t be getting it now. They were just lowlifes, drug runners, dealers, but she couldn’t stay on the chance they would act out when she took their livelihoods away.
I looked up at her from my spot next to her bed. She was dressed in regular clothes. Not clothes from the house because her grandfather had thrown away all that, but clothes she’d ordered from some website and had delivered to the hospital, so we could leave this place for good.
“I can’t believe you’re still here,” she said when she caught my gaze.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like it was all just a dream. An awful one…maybe…but with a silver lining too.”
“Silver?” I scoffed. “I’d say yours is rimmed in gold.”
She smirked. “I don’t care about the money.” She stood from the bed and moved closer, linking her arm with mine. “This is what I care about.”
I leaned down and kissed her on the temple. “Where to, Miss Carstairs?”
Her eyebrows raised. “Carstairs?”
“Well, you can’t keep the name Greene anymore, right? I thought you might take my given name.”
Her eyes lit. “Simon Carstairs. I had no idea that was your last name.”
“I’m a vampire. I don’t need a last name,” I said, whispering in her ear.
She chuckled. “I suppose. You could be like Prince and just go by a symbol.”
“There’s nothing menacing about a symbol.”
She reached up and kissed me on the cheek. “There’s nothing menacing about you either.”
My steps faltered. “Now I know you didn’t just say that.”
She nodded. “It’s true. You’re about as ferocious as a butterfly.”
We were out in the hallway now, walking toward the rest of our lives. I pushed her down an intersecting hall and pulled the handle on the closest door I could find. We stepped into an empty patient room, and I pushed Delilah right into the bathroom and slid the lock closed. Turning, I found her smiling at me from ear-to-ear. I pressed her against the tiled wall, letting my body once again feel the feeling of wanting her. She’d been so fractured before, but now I felt as if I could have her without hurting her. “I’m about to show you how ferocious I can be.”
She squealed in delight as I lifted her into my arms. The squeal died on her lips when I forced my hips forward. Carefully, I placed her hand over my shoulder. “Don’t hurt me,” she said, fear lacing her voice.
“I’ll never hurt you.”
She looked up at me, her own eyes filling with emotion. Tipping my head forward, I brushed my lips with hers. That was all I needed to ignite the fire inside me.
Delilah Carstairs was mine. Forever.
Books by E. M. Moore
Reverse Harem
Order of the Akasha Series
Novella Starter — Stripped
Summoned By Magic — Read on for a preview of the first chapter!
Tempted By Magic
Ravished By Magic
Indulged By Magic
Ravana Clan Vampire Series
Chosen By Darkness
Into the Darkness
Falling For Darkness
Surrender To Darkness
Chronicles of Cas Series
Reawakened
Hidden
Power
Severed
Rogue
Paranormal Romance
The Adams’ Witch
Bound In Blood
Cursed In Love
Phoenix Series
Flight of the Phoenix
Cozy Mystery
Witchy Librarian Cozy My
stery Series
Wicked Witchcraft
One Wicked Sister
Wicked Cool
Wicked Wiccans
Summoned By Magic
Order of the Akasha, Book One
Chapter One
The point was to watch them, not get sucked in. I failed. Holy fuck, this guy was hot.
I always was a sucker for tattoos and guns. Not the kind of guns that shoot things. Guns, as in thick, muscled arms I could sink my teeth into.
I blew out a breath. For heaven’s sake, I needed a cold shower. It might even do these cramps some good. How the hell did I even end up here? Well, technically, I knew how. A long ass bus ride with people who weren’t always the cleanest and some men who I could tell didn’t have the best of intentions. The more appropriate question was why I ended up here.
I’d been getting cramps—I know, TMI—and a yearning in my stomach for something “other”. Something that wasn’t in New Orleans where I’d lived my whole life. The pressure was like a pull, and when you grew up with my grandmother, you tended to want to follow your instincts because that’s what she hammered into you day in and day out. Don’t trust someone? Don’t. They’re probably an axe murderer. Feel like you shouldn’t go to school today? Don’t. Who knows what shitty nonsense could happen? Don’t like that guy around the corner? Neither do I, he’s a dick.
I smiled to myself remembering Granny. She hated that name, but I called her it, anyway. She was a forever young person stuck in an old woman’s body. And, she just so happened to be the local Voodoo Priestess, revered—and feared—by many. Yeah, my childhood was a smash.
The too-loud pop music in the bar where I’d been enjoying my eye candy stopped suddenly. Shoved into the present, I dropped the straw that allowed me to suck down my Amaretto Sour like it was Kool-Aid and turned. Wow. What a dive bar. The absence of Bruno Mars’ Uptown Funk and the house lights exposed the thick layer of sticky grime on the bar and the off-brown checkered tile that led to the small stage at the back of the place.
The tall, lanky guy who lived with the Adonis I’d been lusting after since I got to Salem two days ago stood on the cramped stage. He tapped the microphone tentatively, sending a buzz through the air that made me cringe. “Sorry,” he muttered, while pushing his glasses back up his nose. He stood there awkwardly for a few moments, shifting his weight from foot to foot while I—and everyone else in the bar—watched. He wasn’t used to being the center of attention, that much was evident. My heart went out to him as his face blanched. The blinding white lights all turned on him and he stood there like a surprised animal getting caught taking food.
He was adorable, actually, in a dorky kind of way. All the guys who lived at the apartment I’d been drawn to were good looking in their own way, surprising and confusing me all at the same time. Before I could get sucked back down the rabbit hole of why I was here, he finally cleared his throat and spoke. “Uh, hey.” He waved awkwardly, then put his hand above his eyes to ward off the spotlights. “Just wanted to send a happy birthday out to my friend, Randy. Um, guess I should’ve brought a drink up here with me to toast or something, but uh…”
One of the other guys from the apartment, the blond one who looked like he stepped off a sports magazine cover when he left for practice in the morning, ran a drink up to the front. “Bottom’s up,” he winked.
“Thanks, Gabe.” The lanky one bent over so his lips were almost on the microphone as he raised his borrowed glass in the air. “Happy birthday, Randy.” The microphone buzzed and squeaked as he stepped away.
The blond one—Gabe, apparently—stepped right up after. “Cheers, Mate!” He threw his own drink back, and stepped away from the mic, encouraging the lanky one to do the same with his. He did, his face immediately puckering, and then gave a quick shake of his head as he finally swallowed what was surely some strong, hard liquor.
I leaned against the bar and took a drink of my own. Following them to the bar tonight had been a good idea. I’d just learned two of their names—Gabe and Randy. I also knew that Gabe was apparently British and that it was Randy, Mr. Hot as Fuck’s, birthday.
I eyed the two as they made their way back over to the bar a few feet from where I stood. The same pull tugged in the pit of my stomach when they were all together. I moaned deep as the feeling became overwhelming. There was definitely something about these four. Was I supposed to know them? Was I supposed to fear them? Nothing seemed off. They were four regular guys. Three of them went to college at Salem State while Randy spent most of his time at the gym and a tattoo parlor.
Frustrated, I pulled the straw from my glass and downed the rest of my drink. I was just about to place it back on the bar when a deep, gruff voice said, “I hope that was in my honor.”
My eyes widened, and I almost sputtered. The guy I’d been lusting after since I got here just spoke to me. Holy bananas. Now that he was six inches away, I got to check him out up close. It was easy to get drawn in. He looked sexy as sin wherever he went. He was either dressed for the gym, showing off his sexy as fuck muscles, or sporting tight ass t-shirts on his way to the tattoo parlor he worked at. Tonight was the same tattoo parlor look, jeans that hugged his hips with a black shirt that looked like it was tailor-made just for him. What I hadn’t noticed from watching him with what was usually a street distance between us, was his dark eyes. They were deep brown, teetering on black. A shiver rocked my spine.
Suppressing my inner freak out, I blinked up at him, doing my best to appear interested. Appear? Who was I kidding? I was interested. “Of course,” I answered. “Randy, is it?”
He nodded in assent before taking his time perusing my body. My insides clenched, a more potent feeling than I’d ever had before as his eyes raked all over me. I hadn’t brought much of anything with me from New Orleans, including clothes, since I didn’t know what I would find here. Tonight, I’d just tied off one of my black shirts right above my right hip, showing a little midriff. It was about as “bar appropriate” as I got, even when I was home. Coupled with the tight pair of jeans I’d brought with me, I didn’t look half bad in the small ass motel mirror I’d checked my reflection in before making my way here. I’d followed them to the bar and then decided I had to go back to the room and do a little mini wardrobe makeover before heading in after them and seeing what I could find out. It couldn’t help to be as sexy as I could while trying to feel them out. At least, that’s what I’d thought, and it was working too. Randy was actually standing in front of me, his eyes gliding over my skin as if his only thought was what he could do to me.
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