by Isabel Wroth
“If you don’t get laid tonight, he’s gay.”
Secretly thrilled by the idea of finding out what was beneath his sexy suits, Kerrigan rolled her eyes and snatched up her coat and purse, just as the phone alerted that the car Maksim sent had arrived.
“We’re going to the opera and to dinner. That’s it!”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Juliet shouted after her as Kerrigan made her exit. “Which is pretty much means everything is on the table! Or the floor, or whatever!”
It was a long drive into the city, and the entire time Kerrigan couldn’t help but fantasize about where the night could go. About Maksim finally making a move, kissing her, taking her to the place he called home in the city, stripping her bare, sinking his fangs into the skin of her neck…
Jittery and on edge, Kerrigan counted the minutes until the car pulled up in front of the theater.
In comparison to many of the theaters on Broadway, The Golden Ball wasn’t the largest or the most popular, but considering the throng of elegantly dressed people slowly making their way inside, it was certainly the most glamorous.
The driver got out to open her door, and she hadn’t put more than a foot outside before the familiar scent of cognac and warm amber caressed her senses.
Maksim’s hand was warm to the touch, which made Kerrigan jealously wonder who he’d fed on tonight, but then he smiled, and she forgot all about the faceless donor that wasn’t her.
“Hello, my little witch.”
After two years, one would have thought that silly greeting spoken in a deep, warm tone would have lost some of its appeal, but nope.
Every time, Kerrigan blushed so hot, it burned.
“Hello.”
Without taking his navy eyes off her, Maksim spoke to his driver. “Thank you, Sean. I’ll call when we’re ready to leave.”
“My pleasure, sir,” Sean responded jovially. “Enjoy your evening.”
Sean and the car disappeared, but Kerrigan hardly noticed. Maksim always dressed like an influential businessman of means—though she still didn’t know for sure exactly what his business was. Vampire business, but that’s all she got when she asked.
Tonight, he had on an elegant black suit with silk lapels, a crimson tie, and a snowy white shirt.
He literally couldn’t get any more attractive even if he tried.
Her heart skipped a beat when he lifted her hand to his mouth, and for the very first time, pressed a kiss to her fingertips. It shocked her how such a simple, chaste touch could ignite such a flurry of sensation.
He smiled, no doubt able to hear the surge of her already hammering pulse, but all he said was,
“Happy birthday, love.”
Kerrigan locked her knees to keep from throwing herself at him, glad for the chilly night air that cooled the fever burning through her.
It wasn’t lost on her how his intense gaze dropped to her mouth when she licked her lips, somehow managing to find her voice.
“Happy birthday. What are we here to see?”
His smile deepened as he drew her against his side and ushered her forward into the throng of people entering the theater. “A French opera, Orpheus and Eurydice. Are you familiar…”
Kerrigan bit the inside of her cheek when he trailed off, having moved behind her to help her out of her coat once inside.
The attendant cleared her throat politely when Maksim didn’t move, giving Kerrigan a wink when Maksim absently traded Kerrigan’s coat for the ticket the attendant held.
Like nothing was amiss, Kerrigan took hold of his arm and tugged him forward to keep from holding up the line.
“Are you okay?” she asked, looking up at him as they approached the theater stairs.
Instead of going up, Maksim steered her out of the way into a softly lit alcove. He towered over her, taking an audible breath as he stared down at her.
“No,” he rumbled, lifting his hand to skim his finger along the chain resting between her breasts, following it up to where her pulse thundered at her throat.
The barely-there touch sent chill bumps racing across her skin, and the world fell away as she stood there, pinned in place by the intensity of Maksim’s stare.
“You are… beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Kerrigan whispered back, noticing how his nostrils flared and a muscle in his jaw ticked when she tipped her head slightly to the side, inviting his touch, and more if he so chose.
“I love my necklace.”
Whatever he would have said was interrupted by the bright flash of a camera. The intrusion completely ruined the absolutely breathtaking moment where Kerrigan really thought that finally, after two years of wanting, Maksim might kiss her.
Disappointment warred with anger, and Maksim didn’t seem to be any less pleased by the photographer’s untimely arrival.
The young man smiled, completely clueless as to what he’d done, and offered Maksim another ticket stub.
“Don’t forget to pick up your commemorative photo on your way out! It’s gonna be a good one!”
Maksim turned to put himself between Kerrigan and the photographer, his big hand tightly curled around hers.
His voice lowered to a hypnotic growl, and the tux wearing man went stiff as a board, like a puppet being jerked on its strings, snared by the power of Maksim’s thrall.
“Delete that photo immediately,” Maksim hissed.
Kerrigan felt a lump settle in her belly. Vampires didn’t like having their photos taken. Something about archives and hunters, a phobia still ingrained despite the fact the world at large was aware of the supernatural community.
Vampire hunting was a frowned upon tradition with hefty fines and extended jail time should a hunter be caught—though it rarely happened as the vampire community did its best to deal with any hunters who popped up to cause problems.
It saddened her, though, to know she’d never have some cheesy photo with the love of her life to put on the wall and admire.
Not having such a silly thing seemed monumentally important all of a sudden, which made Kerrigan hastily blurt out,
“Can I see it, just once before he deletes it?”
Maksim ordered the photographer to wait, just in time, and he looked over his shoulder at her with a quizzical frown. Kerrigan folded both her hands around his and gave her angry vampire a tentative smile.
“Please?”
He immediately softened, but not toward the clueless guy standing there like a statue, eyes glassy.
“Show it to her,” Maksim ordered.
Kerrigan peeked around Maksim at the glowing camera screen, unable to help the appreciative sigh that feathered out of her. The photographer was good. Really good. He’d captured the moment perfectly. Kerrigan’s head was tilted, her lips curved in a shy smile as she stared up at Maksim, and his look was… everything.
Bent over her with his knuckles having just curved to stroke the side of her throat, Maksim was looking at her like he’d never seen anything more beautiful than her.
She saw happiness in his expression, hunger, and the dark, sensual stamp of arousal in the curl of his lips.
Kerrigan could have stared at it for hours, but she only had a moment to burn the image into her mind for eternity. She squeezed Maksim’s hand and looked up at him with a nod.
“Thank you.”
For a few heartbeats, Maksim stared back at her with an unreadable expression. Then, as if deciding something, he stepped toward the photographer and bent his head.
For a breathless moment, Kerrigan actually thought Maksim was going to feed on the poor man right there in front of her but realized he was only delivering his orders directly into the photographer’s ear.
When Maksim was done, the guy gave a jerky nod and blinked. The animation came back to his features, he smiled, wished them a pleasant evening, and walked off.
Maksim straightened and ran his free hand down his tie with an uncomfortable twitch.
“I apologize if I frightene
d you, Kerrigan.”
She kept hold of his hand, wrapping her other around his bicep as she leaned on him. “You could come at me covered in blood, and I wouldn’t be afraid. Let’s go get our seats so I can give you your birthday presents.”
Something moved through his expression that looked slightly painful, but the press of his lips on her forehead was thrilling.
“Alright.”
He led her up the carpeted stairs to the second floor and down to the far end of a red velvet-lined hallway.
He smiled at her when she looked up at him in question, lifting his arm to sweep aside a curtain, showing her into their private box for the evening.
It was absolutely beautiful, right next to the stage with a perfect view of the entire theater from the red velvet couch sat perched on a small raised platform, with just enough room for two.
As Kerrigan rounded the love seat, she spied a low table with an assortment of snacks, wine, and a plate of perfect chocolate covered strawberries.
“You’re determined to turn me into a spoiled brat, aren’t you?” Kerrigan laughed in delight, letting him hand her up onto the platform so she could sit.
“Spoiled? Certainly, but if you become a brat, I’ll put you over my knee for a lesson in manners.”
Maksim was serious, but Kerrigan couldn’t help herself. Deadpan, she responded, “Maksim, that’s the most sexual thing you’ve ever said to me. I approve. This is new territory for us. Will I have you call you, Vladdy?”
His eyes rounded in surprise, and he choked out a tight, “WHAT?”
“My Vlad daddy,” she clarified, struggling to maintain her serious expression, because the look on his face was priceless.
Half a second later, he threw his head back and roared with laughter.
Without having to look, Kerrigan knew every woman in the theater was staring hungrily at Maksim, wishing with every fiber of their being to be in Kerrigan’s place.
Kerrigan would never get tired of the way it made her feel to watch him laugh. He could be so serious and intense, to see him come undone with happiness was more valuable to her than the rarest of jewels.
When he quieted, Maksim reached over for her hand and brought her wrist to his mouth, carefully scraping his fangs across the delicate skin.
He gave her a hooded, undeniably sexy look, chills zooming up her arm to play havoc with her as every word he spoke made his lips move against her throbbing pulse.
“When I have you, Kerrigan, you will say my name.”
Warning! System overload! Immediate explosion of ovaries in three, two, one… “When is when?”
“Soon.” One word. A promise. The need she felt raged white-hot, but Maksim never broke his promises. “We have all the time in the world, little witch.”
Kerrigan sipped in a cool breath of air, resigning herself to the wait. Over the last two years, he’d made it blatantly clear he thought she was worth his time and his patience.
She could hardly throw that back in his face and brazenly demand he take care of the sexual frustration building up to a feverish boil inside her.
From the few stolen glances and his behavior downstairs, he was feeling the burn every bit as much as her.
“Can I give you my gifts before the show starts?” Maksim look bewildered and a little flustered when Kerrigan gave him the gifts she’d gathered for him during their time apart. His reaction never failed to thrill her.
“If you wish,” he murmured, still holding her wrist, his thumb making slow sweeps back and forth across her pulse.
It was a little awkward to open her clutch one-handed, but Kerrigan wouldn’t have pulled away to save her life. Not when he was finally doing more than tucking her hand in the crook of his arm.
Appreciation lit his gaze at the sight of the Mother of Pearl cigar case. He released her arm with a squeeze to take the box, examining it from all angles with dedicated scrutiny.
“It’s lovely, Kerrigan. Thank you.”
“That’s just the gift box, silly. Your presents are inside,” she told him with a laugh.
“I see,” he replied with a wry quirk of his lips, flipping up the catch and the lid, not bothering to hide his surprise.
The rectangle ruby was blood red, no wider than a straw, set in the platinum tie bar. The cufflinks matched, all three pieces cut from the same stone.
When he continued to stare at the gems and didn’t immediately say anything, Kerrigan got nervous.
“A few months ago, I went on a field trip with my class to a gem mine in North Carolina. It took me all day to do it, but I summoned a pretty good-sized ruby up out of the ground. When I took it to a jeweler to be polished, he told me it was perfectly blood red. Naturally, I thought of you and asked him to make something special.”
Her heart clenched when he shook his head slowly, but when he lifted his gaze to hers, the emotion swimming there made her feel ten feet tall.
“This is a priceless gift I will treasure always.”
Glowing with his sincerity, Kerrigan ducked her head.
“Happy birthday, Maksim.”
“Happy birthday, Kerrigan.”
The lights dimmed, but the glow she felt inside remained. She would remember this night for the rest of her life, and not because it was her birthday or because the opera was so beautiful it made her cry.
When the house lights came up and Maksim leaned in to wipe the tears from her cheeks with his silk hankie and a gentle smile, the curtain behind them hissed open.
“As instructed, sir,” the photographer from earlier said monotonously, handing Maksim a parcel wrapped in plain brown paper with a nod before disappearing back through the curtain.
“A final gift,” Maksim told her warmly.
Kerrigan took it with a click of her tongue, peeling back the paper even as she asked, “What did you do now?”
The simple black frame held the photo of them downstairs. A perfect moment forever captured in time.
Vampires didn’t like having photographic evidence of their ageless existence, but because it had pleased her, Maksim was entrusting her with what she was sure was the only photo of him in the entire world.
“The look on your face,” Maksim murmured in amazement, reaching up to slide his fingertip down the slope of her cheek.
Kerrigan couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d wanted to. She leaned over and threw her arms around him, hoping he understood what she couldn’t find the words to say.
He was stiff for a split second before a sigh feathered out of him. He palmed her hair and slid his other arm around her back, resting his cheek against hers as he whispered hoarsely,
“My most precious heart.”
CHAPTER SIX
Present day, the Astral Plain…
“We loved each other, but I never even kissed him, Astrid. It’s my biggest regret,” Kerrigan confessed as the memory of that night at the opera faded away, looking down at herself when she felt… a tug.
It was different than the feeling she’d gotten before when searching for Maksim’s spirit. When she frowned and touched her sternum, Astrid made a sound of deep satisfaction and took Kerrigan’s hand.
“You’re plugged in, let it pull you where you need to go.” Together, the two of them shot up in a dizzying rush.
Stars rushed by in a blur; the inky black sky felt like silk against her non-corporeal form, neither cold nor hot.
They could have been traveling between galaxies for all she knew, and from one moment to the next, Kerrigan went from zooming across space and time to standing stock still.
The dungeon was so dark, not even Astrid’s goddess-like glow could penetrate very far. It was utterly silent, not unlike a tomb, but there was definitely a presence lingering deep in the gloom. Kerrigan heard the rattle of chains and a voice that made tears instantly flood her eyes.
“My little witch is here.”
Kerrigan hurtled her astral-body toward that beloved voice, only to bounce back like she’d hit a sliding glass
door. Astrid floated up beside her, reaching out to press her palms to the barrier.
“I don’t know what this is,” Astrid confessed with a deep frown, looking over her shoulder when the roar of a lion reverberated through the darkness.
“That’s Abel. Our time is almost up. We’ve locked in on Maksim’s consciousness, but you have to hurry. Whatever this barrier is… I can’t say if we’re safe here.”
Kerrigan nodded, her hands curling into fists against the invisible barrier, keeping her from passing through the wrought iron bars to where Maksim’s spirit was trapped.
“Maksim? I’m here; it’s Kerrigan.”
A deep sigh was her immediate answer, and if she squinted, she could just make out the barest outline of her beloved pressed back into a corner.
“I can feel you. Is it our birthday already?”
“No, not yet.” Her voice trembled as she pushed as close to the barrier as she could. “I’ve been looking for you for so long.”
He spoke as though he hadn’t heard her and didn’t make much sense. “I don’t know if it’s the desiccation eating away at my sanity, but I swear I can smell your perfume this time. Lilacs and jasmine. The air is so stagnant, the stench of rot so thick I can taste it. Where are you, my sweet little witch?”
Kerrigan hammered on the barrier. “I’m here, I’m right here! Maksim! Why can’t he hear me, Astrid?”
Astrid shook her head in confusion and opened her mouth to answer, but Maksim groaned, the chains rattling as he shifted around in the dark.
“It’s a new form of torture, letting me wallow in this agony.” The hoarse, stilted tone of his voice utterly broke her heart.
Great, tearing sobs wrenched out of her, almost drowning out his slurred words.
“S’like sand in my veins, hurts to talk, to think. I’m tired, so tired, but there’s no sweet release of sleep, no dreams of you.”
A cacophony of demanding roars surrounded them, and Astrid softly told her it was time to go. Kerrigan struggled to fight the pull of whatever Astrid was doing, but the lions calling to them was an unbelievably powerful force, a riptide she was absolutely helpless to fight.
“I can’t! I can’t leave him like this!”
