by Jen Stevens
I wanted to swat his hand away and pull it under the blankets with me so he could explore every other part of me.
I wanted him to quicken his pace and stop at the same time.
He left my mind in such a jumbled mess, I couldn't control my own actions.
I felt like putty in his large, capable hands. All I wanted him to do was gently caress me. To sculpt me into whatever he wanted so long as his skin never left mine and the buzzing between us never ended.
A soft, mortifying moan escaped my lips and he paused, glaring down at me. I wanted to scream. I hated myself for allowing my body to react in such an embarrassing way. That I craved the touch of my enemy so deeply, even my bones ached for it.
“I've never done this,” I admitted through a bated breath.
After a few weighted seconds where I contemplated throwing every ounce of pride I had out the window and begging him to torture me just a little while longer, his hands moved to the top of the blanket and pulled it down, exposing my naked body to the cool, ocean air.
I resisted the urge to fold my arms over my chest and cover myself up. I'm not sure what possessed me to sit still under his gaze and allow those deep, deadly eyes to slowly drink my imperfect body in.
My admission still hung in the air between us as he slowly considered me. A soft nagging in my mind told me I should still be embarrassed, but I refused to give it life.
It was almost as if the knowledge that he was so dangerous brought out this side of me that wanted to test him. To see how far we could take this before someone got hurt.
My arm slid across the velvet sheets until my nails scraped against his jeans. I tugged at the material, bravely asking him to expose himself to me the same way. To make this horrible mistake into a mutual decision.
With a low rumble in his throat, he leaned into me and cupped his hand on my jaw, his face hovering just above mine. I could feel his breath on my lips and couldn't stand the teasing anymore. When he didn't make a move, I opened my mouth the slightest bit and leaned forward into the space left between us. Then, throwing all caution to the wind, I sucked his bottom lip between mine and bit down.
That was all the permission he needed. In a frenzy of rushed movements, he managed to hop into the bed and place his body between my naked thighs, rubbing himself against my damp center with the rough denim material of his jeans. I could feel every hard part of him as it pressed into me.
I watched him through my lashes and was somehow met with an even deeper, darker black than usual. His gaze burned into me like molten lava pouring onto my skin, and I welcomed the pain it incited. Featherlight kisses trailed my cheek and neck as he slowly tortured me—playing with my patience as if it were something to be tested.
When he journeyed back to my mouth, he nibbled at my swollen lip the way I had done to his before, then he replaced the playful nipping with a slow, tentative kiss. We took our time finding the perfect fit while he allowed my hands to explore the taut, toned muscles of his torso beneath his thin cotton shirt.
His arms were braced above my head, holding the top half of his body up so that he didn't crush me. When he shifted a little to reach his tongue deeper into my mouth, his stiffened manhood pressed harder against me, and another moan left my lips. I could feel his smile against my mouth just before he thrust himself against me once more, nearly sending my head spinning into the next galaxy with the simplest movement.
Without warning, he shifted onto one arm and snaked the other between us. I felt his fingers against my slick slit and jumped, sending them just a little farther into me. He chuckled against my mouth, then pressed one finger into the perfect spot. That was all it took. I couldn't stop myself from unraveling beneath him as he rubbed and caressed me in ways no man had ever attempted before. All the while his warm mouth stayed connected with mine, intensifying the stimulation.
It was embarrassingly quick, but shame had no place in our tiny bubble. I waited for the negative feelings to come crashing into my chest, reminding me what a mistake this was.
They never did.
Once I was thoroughly satiated, Remy rolled over and settled into the spot beside me. We simply stared into each other's eyes—me completely naked and him fully clothed and soaked in my juices—exchanging the secrets we knew our mouths could never share.
“They're going to pay for what they've done,” he promised.
I didn't have it in me to discourage him. The earnest expression he wore told me there was no way I'd be able to stop him anyway.
Chapter 21
Storie
When I arrived back at the hotel, I stopped by the office to tell Blaire and Tabitha that I was still alive and to check in with them. As soon as she saw me, Blaire jumped out of the office chair and wrapped her arms around my neck in a tight hug. My hands awkwardly patted her back until she pulled away with her hands still gripping my shoulders. Her expression turned horrified when she scanned my bloodstained clothes and matted hair.
“Where have you been?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Well, I’ve got time. Have a seat.” She pulled one of the chairs lined against the wall up to the desk and took a seat on the opposite side.
After what happened to me in the past two days, I wasn’t sure if I could trust anyone in Beacon Grove anymore. Not that Julia had ever proved to be a person I was interested in befriending, but she and her friends appeared to be harmless and my miscalculation about them nearly cost me my life. I wanted to trust Blaire, though. I wanted to share what happened with someone who wasn’t involved in any way. Eventually, that won out over every hesitation I had.
“Julia and her friends,” I said on a sigh when I fell into the chair.
“What did they do? You look like you’ve crawled out of a grave.” I shot her a sarcastic scowl and she laughed, shrugging her shoulders unapologetically.
I peered out of the windows of the office and dropped my voice in case we were overheard. “It was really weird. They threw me into a van and took me to the Wilde’s beach. All of them seemed to be on some kind of drug. They were acting pretty out of it, especially Julia. She was saying things about the Wildes and the Rists always being connected and that it was supposed to be her.” Blaire scrunched her nose and tilted her head, equally confused by that as I was. “Then, I saw an opportunity to run and the big one hit me over the head.”
Her gasp filled the quiet room, the same look of horror returning. “Beau? He’s like a teddy bear.”
I shook my head. “Well, he was more like a grizzly bear.”
“What happened then?” Glowing green eyes widened in interest.
I paused, considering her for a moment. Telling Blaire about what happened with Remy might lead her onto the path of realizing I was his Counter.
Why else would he have cared if I washed away with the tide that day?
Then again, if my instincts were correct and we were somehow connected in that way, why wouldn’t he have just let me die out there? Wouldn’t that make his life a lot easier?
“Well, I’m not super clear on what happened after that,” I admitted. My eyes fell to my wringing hands as I went back and forth over telling her. Finally, my lips began moving. “I woke up in Remy Wildes room with no injuries. Just some blood-soaked clothes and a rat's nest on the top of my head.”
A noise in the kitchen stopped her from responding. I wondered if Tabitha heard any part of our conversation. If she had, I wouldn’t doubt that she’d be in here chastising me over being so stupid.
Still, I didn’t want to risk the rest of our conversation being overheard. Blaire seemed to catch on to that because she raised her finger to her lips and signaled that we’d continue talking later. I nodded my agreement and dragged my chair back to its home along the wall, then waved goodbye and headed to my room.
Chapter 22
Storie
It only took a few days of recovery from my attack in private before I was pacing the perimeter of my hotel room. The caged
feeling reminded me of all the times I felt this way with Aunt Ash during our time in hiding and how she always seemed to have a solution for it. Back then, I had no idea that there were real threats lingering just outside of every door of the places we stayed in. That we were being hunted and it was only a matter of time before we'd be found.
Now, I knew exactly how she felt. I only wished I could go back in time and apologize for making everything so difficult for her. To thank her for every minute of her life that she spent sacrificing her safety and mental health for an ungrateful me.
While that wasn't a plausible answer, gaining more information surrounding her death was. I decided to use the number Hazel gave me and make an appointment with my maternal grandmother. She may not know much about Aunt Ash, but there was a possibility she could open up a new door to look behind.
---
Lunet's home was buried inside the maze of residential streets in Beacon Grove. I'd nearly gotten lost multiple times. My GPS refused to work this far away from the town's square, so I was stuck relying on her nurse's vague instructions that I scribbled on a piece of paper as she rattled them off over the phone.
When I pulled into the driveway, I recognized the house right away. It was the same one in the photos Hazel showed me. Time had sunk its claws into it, wearing it down quite a bit since the photo was taken, but it stood proudly amongst the rest of the homes surrounding it that had been taken better care of.
I wanted to take my time admiring it but was hardly out of my car when a tall woman opened the front door and greeted me from the large, wrap-around porch. “She's been practically bouncing off the walls all morning waiting for you,” she called out through a smile.
She introduced herself as Mary, Lunet’s live-in nurse who I'd spoken to over the phone, as she led me through the foyer and into a sitting room off to the left. The interior of the house was as outdated as the exterior and held that dusky, stale scent that always seemed to linger in the homes of the elderly. Mary offered me a seat on one of the sitting chairs covered in red lighthouses and left me alone to grab Lunet from her bedroom.
I glanced around the small room and felt an overwhelming number of emotions wash through me. I'd never been as close to my mother as I'd gotten since entering Beacon Grove. My plan was to get answers about my father and Aunt Ash's deaths, but I hadn't even considered the possibility of learning more about the woman who gave her life to bring me into this world. It was such an unexpected gift.
My eyes swung from the red brick fireplace to the opposite side of the room, through the glass French doors leading back into the foyer. My mother had walked these narrow halls once, passing by the old photos littering the walls in various frames. Her feet padded on these hardwood floors each time she entered or left her home. If my suspicions were correct and the furnishings in the home haven't been updated, she could have sat in this very chair, once upon a time.
It was almost like I could feel the ghost of her beside me. See the past versions of her casually strutting through her home as if she had all the time in the world.
“There you go, nice and slow,” Mary's voice released me from my thoughts as she helped the old woman into the room. She guided her over to the maroon loveseat across from me and helped her lower herself into it.
As soon as my eyes met with hers, my lungs tightened in my chest. I recognized her immediately as the woman from the festival. The same one Tabitha practically beat me away from. The cloudiness of her eyes had somehow disappeared, but I was certain it was her.
“I'm so glad you've come,” Lunet's strong voice greeted.
I knew from Hazel that she was elderly, and based on the way she had to be helped in, I expected her to be much more frail. But as soon as Mary got her settled in and left us alone to talk, Lunet straightened up and spoke as if she was full of energy.
“I wasn't expecting to see you again after the way Tabitha pushed you away,” she went on, leaning over to the coffee table between us to pour herself a cup of tea from the kettle Mary had just carried in.
With no true reference aside from the few photos Hazel shared with me, it was difficult to draw a connection between the woman before me and my mother. They shared the same dramatic cupid’s bow on their lips and her aging eyes appeared to be in the same almond shape as the ones I saw on my mother. I wondered if she’d been able to age beyond her twenties, would she look more similar to the lady before me?
“I’m so sorry about that. I had no idea-” I began, but Lunet lifted a finger in the air to stop me.
“It’s not your fault. Tabitha has her own secrets to protect.”
Wasn’t that the truth?
“I assume you’re here to find out more about the gift.”
I cleared my throat. “The gift? No, I’m just curious about my mother. I had no idea she still had any living relatives.” I reached out to grab the teacup from her hands when she lifted it into the air toward me, whispering my thanks.
“Yes, isn’t that something? Those Graves always had a way of poisoning everything they touched.” Thin, weathered lips stuck out in a pout. She set her cup down onto its saucer and leaned back into the couch.
“What do you mean?”
“I warned my daughter not to get caught up with those kids. She didn't listen. Now, look where she is.”
“With all due respect, it wasn’t my father or aunt who killed my mother; it was me.”
“Oh, is that what they’ve got you believing?” She huffed out a sarcastic laugh, her eyes rolling toward the cracked ceiling as the laugh lines tightened around them. “Convenient excuse.”
“I don’t understand. Are you saying she didn’t die during childbirth?”
“No, my love. Bonnie was a true warrior through your birth. Barely made a peep, even when it was obvious the pain was taking over her. She spent five days with you before they came. It was the happiest I’d ever seen her. I even thought that perhaps the Graves boy wasn’t so bad after all.”
Ignoring the constant digs at my father, I asked, “Before who came?”
“Well, that all depends on who you’re asking.” She crossed thin, frail arms over her chest and gazed at me with an amused expression. She was enjoying this special form of torture.
I’d only come here for some anecdotal stories about my mother. Maybe to see more photos of her and hear how she was as a child from her mother’s point of view. I never expected for my family name to be disgraced and everything I knew about my mother’s death to be turned upside-down.
Though, I was quickly learning that was what happened in Beacon Grove.
Its entire foundation was built solely on secrets piled onto more secrets. Did anyone really know the truth?
“I’m not sure what that means,” I admitted, shifting in my seat. Her staring had quickly grown uncomfortable.
“Do you remember what I said to you before? At the Mabon festival?”
“Vaguely.” Everything from that day had become a blur.
“I told you that you were given an enormous task from the fates. I might not agree with the choices my daughter made or the outcomes they’ve created, but that doesn’t change anything. It’s done. You’ve been chosen for this. Avoiding it is only delaying the inevitable.”
I blinked at her.
“Why don’t we see what the other side has to say about it? Usually, I’d channel them myself, but this damn town is littered with low entities.”
She reached into the tote bag she’d been carrying when Mary brought her in and pulled out a familiar-looking box of tarot cards, her movements slow and labored. I recognized the design from living with Aunt Ash, though I’d never learned how to use them.
It was another thing she tried to show me, but my stubborn mind was already made up; I wasn’t going to be a weird witch like her.
She expertly shuffled the deck between her hands, never once fumbling or losing a single card. I could barely handle a regular deck without them flying all over the place, and these were twice as
long.
When she noticed me watching, she asked, “I trust the Graves girl at least taught you how to use these? They’re a staple in any witch’s practice.” I shook my head, earning another exasperated eyeroll. “Did they do anything to prepare you?”
“I’m still not sure what they were supposed to be preparing me for.”
She lifted a brow and began wordlessly pulling cards from the deck.
The first card she pulled showed a tall building breaking apart. “Ah, the tower. Your life has been upended. You’ve experienced a great loss and it’s left you questioning everything you thought you knew. But change is necessary.”
Next, she held up a card with a woman holding two swords. “You’ve been presented with choices, and you need to weigh all your options before moving forward with a plan. I can see you’re trying to avoid the inevitable, just as you’ve been trained to do, but there is no more time for that. Just be sure your decision aligns with your own path and not someone else’s.”
The last card she held up looked to be a jester standing on the edge of a cliff. “The fool: a promising card. You’ve lost a lot, but you’re standing on the threshold of something amazing. It’s your fate, my love. Don’t be afraid to take the leap. You’ll be rewarded tremendously.”
She set all three cards back down onto the coffee table and gazed at them, tears forming in the edges of her eyes. “My daughter may have made mistakes that led to her leaving us on this plane far too early, but her sacrifice has been rewarded with you. You’re going to save us all.”
There were those words again. I had no idea what they meant and the tarot reading only confused me even further, though Lunet acted as if the message was clear as day.
“I know this isn't what you came to hear today. There are so many people jumbling your mind with their own lies and agendas; you must feel as if your world has been turned around. You need to trust your own intuition and ignore everything else. It's all background noise.” She placed a spotted, ring-clad hand across her heart and tilted her head to the side.
