by Jane Hinchey
"What?" He cupped her chin and turned her face to look at him
"I feel like I'm losing myself, Zak." Her voice was barely a whisper. "I killed a woman. I ripped her heart right out of her chest. Jesus Christ." A single tear tracked down her cheek.
"You were protecting yourself. And your family."
"It still doesn't change what I did. What I have to live with. That can't be me. I don't want that to be me."
"You have regrets?" He'd known it all along. She'd been an innocent human thrown into his evil, violence-filled world. He'd taken for granted that she'd adapted, never realizing how much the blood on her hands would haunt her. He was angry at his own blindness, his inability to see how much she'd been hurting. Hurting and hiding it from him. Is this why she was sick?
"Regret is a wasted emotion," she muttered, pulling back, wiping a hand across her cheek.
"I'm so sorry." He pulled her tightly against him, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, returning the embrace. "Everything has been on my terms and I've been so selfish. Trying to stop you from coming here, trying to keep you at the homestead all the time. It's just because I want to keep you safe."
"I know." Her voice was muffled against his chest. "But before you? I didn't need to be kept safe. I had room to live." And that was it, wasn't it? He was smothering her, so terrified something was going to happen that would take her away from him that he was pushing her away all on his own.
"Tomorrow I'm going into town to organize some heavy-duty blackout curtains for this place and you and I can start spending more time here."
"Sleep here?" she asked, making him wince at the hope in her voice.
"Definitely." His heart hurt a little when she snuggled closer and squeezed a little tighter. Of course, she missed her home. How blind was he that he hadn't noticed? He did notice when her hands started roaming, sliding now around to his chest. Then she was straddling him, setting the swing in motion. He clamped his hands on her hips to help keep her balance and couldn't help but return the sinfully wicked smile on her face.
"I used to have some very hot, very sexy, dreams right here on this swing," she purred. Reaching down she grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it up over her head.
"Is that so?" His voice was a growl.
"Oh yes. Do you want me to tell you about it?" She reached behind and unclipped her bra, letting it fall to the ground. His fingers dug into her hips, but he kept his hands away from the magnificent vision displayed before him. This was her game; it was his turn to play along.
"Yes." The words were muttered between clenched teeth.
She took one of his hands and slowly glided it in a back-and-forth motion across her belly. "Well, it always started with what seemed like fog, rolling in from the fields. I could feel this presence, this heat, but I couldn't see who it was." Up her hand climbed, dragging his with it. "Only my body knew—how it trembled for his touch, how my heart pounded with anticipation. For this secret dream man? He could do wicked things with his fingers." She placed his hand on her breast, arching into it. He gasped with her at the delicious friction of her nipple in his palm. He played, cupped and teased, first one breast, then the other. She reached for his other hand and did the same thing, encouraging him with her soft moans.
"And his mouth," she whispered, head thrown back, her beautiful long neck exposed in the moonlight, "the things he could do with his mouth." Dutifully he leaned forward and placed said mouth against her neck, licking, kissing, nipping until she was squirming in his lap. He lifted her slightly, bringing her breast to his mouth, and sucked her nipple, hard. She cried out, clamping her knees against his hips. Oh yes, he knew all her spots.
All finesse gone, he had them both naked in seconds, surging into her as she straddled him, the swing rocking in a crazy rhythm. Clasping her to him, chest to chest, he guided her head to his neck. Tilting his head back, he offered himself to her. She didn't need further prompting. Her fangs sprang out and she sank them into his neck, pulling deep, drinking his blood. His climax was almost upon him, but he fought it back. This was for her. He'd been way too selfish for way too long, but holding onto his control was difficult; the heat of her fangs in his skin was ambrosia. The more she drank, the harder her hips rocked against him, flesh pounding against flesh. The minute she raised her face from his neck, he bit her, his own fangs sinking into the soft flesh above her breast. Her orgasm tore through her, her body stiffening then tightening around him. With her sweet blood pouring down his throat, he followed her, grunting against her skin.
Wrapped in his arms, sweet aftershocks still rippling through her, Georgia shivered.
"Are you...cold?" Zak’s voice sounded puzzled.
"Well yeah, it's freezing out here with no clothes on." She'd begun to shiver and as he ran his hands up and down her back he realized her skin did indeed feel cold. He helped her dress, then pulled on his own clothes. Rather than pull on his jacket, he swung it over her shoulders, giving her the extra warmth.
"You do know vampires don't feel the cold. Or the heat." He stood her before him, hands resting on her shoulders.
"And vampires don't get sick either, but I did. And I burnt in the sun...and scarred." But rather than being worried, she seemed happy. And there was nothing more he wanted in this world than for Georgia to be happy. And safe.
4
The following evening Zak dragged her outside. He wanted her to train.
"I don't see why you're making me do this. It doesn't work anymore." She pouted, dragging her feet.
"You can teleport, Georgia. I've seen you do it. You've done it once, you can do it again."
"I don't see what the big deal is!"
"Humor me, will you? If I know you can teleport back here, that you can be safe, I can stop worrying about you so damn much."
Maybe he had a point, she conceded. He'd been smothering her because he cared because what she'd endured at the hands of Marius had tortured Zak too and he was terrified of something happening to her. She could see he was trying, so she needed to try too. They'd been at it for over an hour with absolutely no progress, not a flicker, and her temper was starting to fray.
"If you're all going to stand around and watch me fail then you just might find yourself on the end of my blade!" Georgia didn't need to turn around and eyeball the vampire warriors who were lined up on the back porch to know they were there. She'd heard them arrive even though they'd tried to be stealthy.
"Come on, sweetheart. Focus. You can do this," Zak called to her from across the yard. She eyed the handsome angel-vampire hybrid with his jet-black hair, dark as sin eyes and designer stubble with resignation. He was her friend, lover, mate. And he was right. She could do this. Only right now, she couldn't.
"You can do it." The “it” was the fact that Georgia had teleported from her farm to Zak's house when she was newly turned. When the rogue vampires had turned up looking for a fight, to save her sister and best friend Rhys, Georgia had teleported them all. Only that was the one and only time she'd managed to achieve it. No matter how hard she'd tried since nothing happened. Nada. Zilch. Not even a flicker. She was convinced it had been a one-time thing, a bit of leftover juice in her system from when Zak had turned her—after all, he was the one with the teleporting powers. Zak believed if she kept on practicing it would happen again.
"I'm done." Spinning on her heel, she headed toward the back steps.
She heard him mutter "Quitter" under his breath and the next thing she'd spun and launched herself at him, knocking him onto his back and straddling him as they slid in the dirt. The warriors on the porch sniggered and then groaned when they realized what was coming next. Amidst grumblings of "oh man, they're at it again" they dispersed quickly.
"A quitter, huh?" Georgia perched on Zak’s chest, her knees pinning his arms to the ground.
"That's what I said." His lips curled in a devilish grin, his eyes darkening.
Georgia leaned forward and brushed her lips across his. He tried to
lift his head to capture her mouth, but she pulled back. Oh no. He didn't get to boss her around all day and then be rewarded.
As soon as he felt her relax on top of him, he flipped their positions so she was lying on her back and he was on top of her, only he wasn't sitting on her, he was firmly nestled between her legs. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers for a searing kiss.
"Errr, boss. Sorry to interrupt, but we've got company," Frank called from the back door. He was right. The sound of a car could be heard making its way up the long driveway. Zak traced his thumb across her bottom lip, a look of regret sweeping across his face before he moved to his feet, holding out a hand to haul her up.
"Don't recognize the car," Frank told them as they entered the house hand in hand and followed him to the front room.
"Where's Skye?" Georgia asked, looking around for her sister. Even though Skye was a vampire, and fast becoming a very skilled warrior, Georgia couldn't shake the deep-seated need to protect and look out for her little sister.
"I'm here." Skye strolled in from the kitchen, a mug cradled in her hand. Her blonde curls were pulled up into a high ponytail and she was wearing a black pencil skirt, a white-and-black polka-dot blouse, and stilettoes that matched her red lipstick. Georgia grinned, a sense of relief rippling through her. Maybe Skye was over the idea of being a warrior?
Georgia didn't miss how Dainton's eyes followed Skye as she sauntered into the room and stood by Georgia's side. The vampire had the hots for her sister. So far Georgia hadn't been able to work out if Skye returned the warrior's feelings. There was certainly friendship there, and she knew Dainton had helped Skye a lot after her transition.
"Expecting anyone?" Georgia asked no one in particular. Security was pretty tight here. Zak had glamoured most of the townsfolk to take no interest in where he lived and it was a general rule of thumb that no one visited unless expressly invited.
"Could it be Rhys?" Zak looked down at her, one brow arched. She shook her head. No. The doorbell rang and Frank opened the door, blocking the view.
"Yes?"
"Oh. Hi." A woman's voice. She cleared her throat. "Umm, I'm looking for Georgia and Skye Pearce. I was told I could find them here?"
Skye clutched Georgia's arm. "Is that?" She turned to her, her green eyes huge.
"Aunt Mel?" the girls said in unison, prying the door from Frank’s grip and throwing it wide open. On the doorstep stood a woman in her late thirties, brown shoulder-length curly hair, hazel eyes and a smile identical to Georgia’s and Skye's.
"Georgia! Skye!" The three women embraced tightly, then Georgia pulled away, eyeing the slightly shorter woman dressed in blue jeans and an emerald green sweater standing before her.
"It's been a while." It came out an accusation. A look of grief flashed across the other woman's face before she shrugged in apology.
"We've got lots to talk about, girls. I'm sorry I haven't been around much. There's a reason why. Is there somewhere we can talk?"
"Please, come in." Skye grasped her aunt's hand and led her into the house. The Warriors, Frank and Zak all stood in line, assessing the stranger in their midst.
"Aunt Melissa, these are our friends, Aston, Dainton, Cole, and Kyan. Frank’s the guy you met at the door. And this is Zak, Georgia's boyfriend." Skye quickly did the introductions. "Guys, this is our Aunt Melissa. She's my mom’s sister."
"I can see the resemblance." Zak stepped forward and dropped a kiss on the back of Melissa's hand. "Welcome to our home."
"Phew, you vampires sure are an overwhelming bunch!" Melissa fanned her face, grinning ruefully at Skye.
"You know about vampires?" Skye asked.
"Oh yes. And demons. Wolves . Witches. All the things that go bump in the night."
"How?"
"That's part of why I'm here. Look, sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but this is a conversation I need to have with my nieces. Alone. I'm sure they'll relay it all to you in due course, but...would you mind?"
"I've got a better idea." Georgia piped up. "Let's go to my farmhouse. It'll give us some privacy. If you know about vampires then you know it doesn't matter where you are in this house, they can still hear you if they choose to stop and listen. Which they will." She flashed them all a look. They had the grace to look guilty. Each and every one of them had intended to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that." Zak crossed his arms over his chest, a stubborn look on his face. Georgia sighed. Crossing to him, she laid a hand on his chest, "I will be perfectly fine. She's not a threat, she's my family. Plus, she'll need a place to stay, so she may as well stay at my place. I'll get her settled in, hear her out, then be home before you know it."
He ran a troubled hand over his face and through his hair. He didn't want to let her out of his sight. She'd been ill and they still had to work out why. Aston had organized for the ancient books to be taken out of storage in Eden Hills and sent to them; hopefully, there'd be clues in the old texts. But in the meantime, he wanted Georgia by his side.
The memory of their earlier conversation, and the realization that she was missing her human life brought him up short. If he didn't give her the space she needed, that she asked for, he could end up losing her forever.
"Okay." The others looked stunned at his words, but Georgia didn't give him time to change his mind. Snatching up her car keys, she headed out the front door, Skye, and Melissa on her heels. "And none of you are to follow us!" she called back over her shoulder. She heard the groans from the warriors, knowing they'd planned to skulk around the outskirts of the farm to “keep them safe.”
"Your place is really nice, Georgia. You did a great job." Melissa stood in the lounge room and slowly spun, taking in the rustic warmth Georgia had projected into the old house.
"Thank you. Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything? Although I have to warn you, I doubt I have anything fresh in the fridge."
"You got coffee? I take it black, no sugar."
"Now that I can do."
Georgia busied herself in the kitchen preparing coffee while Melissa and Skye settled on the couch.
"It's great to see you." Melissa smiled at Skye.
"You too. It's been too long."
"It has. I'm sorry, I should have visited sooner. And more frequently, especially since your mom and dad died."
"Why didn't you?"
"Habit. Jen wanted me to keep my distance from you girls, so it just became a habit that I stayed away. It doesn't mean I don't love you or don't care. I was just trying to keep your mother happy."
"Mom wanted you to stay away from us? But why?"
"Yeah, why?" Georgia placed three cups of coffee on the table and settled herself into the armchair across from the sofa.
"Your mom never wanted you to know this—she'd turned her back on this side of her family—so I want you to know I'm going against her express wishes here, and I don't feel good about it. But you need to know."
"Know what?"
"Our family is descended from a long line of witches—"
"Mom was a witch?" Skye cut in.
"No. No, your mom wasn't a witch. She could have been, but she turned her back on it. Didn't want anything to do with witchcraft, and she didn't want you girls involved either."
"But you're a witch?" Georgia asked.
"Yes. And Grandma was a witch. And Great-Grandma. And so on and so forth."
"How far back?"
"A long, long, long way. We're descended from an ancient witch, Lilura Darkmore. She was a member of the coven of Hester Cromwell, a hybrid witch-angel who created the dagger and ring that bring life and death to immortals."
"You know about the dagger? And Zak’s ring?" Georgia frowned. How was this even possible?
Melissa nodded, taking a sip of her coffee.
"But that's not why I'm here." She set her cup down on the coffee table, raising troubled eyes to Georgia, then Skye.
"I'm in trouble
," she admitted.
"What sort of trouble?"
"Big, bad, life-ending trouble," Melissa confessed, running a suddenly shaky hand over her face. "There's a witch hunter. Every ten years he appears and hunts witches. He's relentless. And deadly. After a year of hunting and killing, he disappears. We're not sure where he goes if it's a hibernation thing or what, but every ten years he awakens and it’s bad news for us witches when he's awake."
"And he's awake now?"
Melissa nodded. "He is. But he shouldn't be because he was awake six years ago. "
"How do you know?"
"That's he's awake? Or that he was awake six years ago?"
"Both."
"Because six years ago he killed your parents. He's taking out the bloodlines of the original coven. Hester's coven."
"What!"
"But they died in a car accident." Skye frowned in confusion.
"Yes. One he created. He's powerful and devious and has a knack for making his kills look accidental."
"But you never said anything. At the funeral or afterward."
"What good would it have done? You knew nothing of your witchcraft history. I doubt you would have believed me."
"She has a point, Georgia," Skye admitted. "We would have thought she was batshit crazy."
"Why are you telling us now? Because this witch hunter is after you?"
"I believe he is after me, yes, but that's not why I'm telling you. I think he's woken early because the dagger and ring were activated. When that happened, it was like a power surge of magic traveled the globe. We all felt it, but only those of us who know the ancient stories knew what it meant."
"You think he's coming for me? Us?" Georgia muttered. "It makes sense. I activated the dagger with my blood. It's my fault Marius rose again. But we killed him."
"But in the process, you killed Zak and brought him back. Along with his memories."
"How did I bring him back? No one can answer that question for me."
