by Isabel Wroth
Even used to Juliet’s unfiltered questions and never-ending curiosities about sex, Kerrigan turned nine shades of red.
“I wouldn’t know.”
“About the blood volume?”
“About any of it. We didn’t before, and we haven’t—”
“What?” Juliet drew out the word with an incredulous wheeze, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Not at all?”
Kerrigan shrugged, refusing to be embarrassed about not having had actual sex with her vampire mate.
“Are you one hundred percent sure he’s not gay?”
“JULIET!”
“What? Come on! It’s been twelve years since the last time you were together, and I remember how prissy you were about sex back then. You’re telling me he didn’t jump on you for a ride to pound town the second he could?”
Kerrigan gave Juliet the look she deserved for being so crude, but Juliet had no shame. Literally. None.
“He was a mummy two days ago, and I had to open a vein about ten times to collect enough blood to revive him. Then we spent a few super romantic hours in the morgue where I cut into him and used necromancy for the first time since school.
“Then, after summoning a dead guy’s spirit and asking for permission to desecrate his body, I pulled eyeballs out of his corpse and cut off five of his fingers to repair the damage Vivica Price inflicted on Maks. To really make our reunion sexy, I passed out for a full twenty-four hours.”
Juliet grunted ruefully “I see how that might put a damper on sexy time. What’s with the shield?”
“You were slinging boiling hot cider everywhere.”
With a surprised flutter of her lashes, Juliet looked at the mug she’d apparently forgotten she was holding.
“Oh. Oops. Sorry.”
“No problem. I can summon Quentin for you, you know that, right?”
“I guess we could try.” Juliet sighed, raking her hand through her yellow hair. “My mom hired Horatio Pommeroy to get in touch, but for some reason, Quentin never showed. So I don’t think my brother is interested in communicating.”
Kerrigan snorted derisively and finished off the last of her lukewarm cider. Horatio Pommeroy. What a joke.
“I hope your mom didn’t break the bank buying his services. Pommeroy puts on a really good show, and he has a lot of knowledge about the Nether-realms that makes him sound super-intelligent, but he couldn’t summon the ghost of his last fart.
"He’s an Illusionist with a really great publicity agent. I have a scheduled summoning tonight, but get me something of your brother’s, and I’ll get him here.”
“Easier said than done,” Juliet muttered with a rude hand gesture. “Mom has all his shit locked up in the big house like some shrine, and I haven’t been home since I was fourteen. As you know, we’re not on speaking terms after I completely ruined my life by joining this terribly gauche little coven.”
“I bet your mother and mine could be best friends.” Kerrigan looked at Juliet. Juliet looked at her, and both of them burst out laughing.
“I could see it.” Juliet giggled. “Between the two of us disappointing daughters, they’d have so much to talk about.”
Kerrigan curled her arm around Juliet’s shoulder.
“I’ll ask Maks why he dropped the ball after making you a promise.”
“That’ll probably be easier than getting something from my mom,” Juliet agreed ruefully.
“Probably so. About your other dilemma. Um, considering I’ve spent the last years of my life pining for the same guy, I’m not exactly the best person to give relationship advice, and I know patience isn’t really your favorite thing, but maybe you should just give Ilex some space to work out that he’s being a dick.”
“Well, you’re not wrong about my problem with patience.” Juliet made a face and heaved a sigh, drawing her legs up to hug her knees to her chest, staring out into the deepening shadows as the sun began its descent.
Kerrigan hated to see her vibrant and wild sister look so miserable, and she was surprised, after having seen the tender way Ilex had spoken to Juliet over the phone, that he would react so badly as to have left without letting Juliet explain why she was in another man’s kitchen.
Kerrigan always felt a bit wary of spending any amount of time with Enna.
The Fae warrior hadn’t ever done anything to give Kerrigan a reason not to feel safe around him, and Uriah certainly wouldn’t have tolerated Enna’s presence had he sensed anything untoward about the guy.
Ivy was pregnant now, Uriah’s entire world, and he had already proven he was willing to die to protect his mate, but something about the dark-haired, dark-eyed Fae left Kerrigan uneasy.
In Juliet’s position, Enna’s couch would have been her very last choice.
“The annual Black Jade Adventure Race is coming up next month.” Juliet finally sighed. “I was going to put it off in favor of hanging around to do something about the sexual tension between Ilex and me that’s left me strung tighter than piano wire, but missing out on the challenge and the prize for a guy who walks out without so much as a ‘fuck you’ is so basic. I ain’t no basic witch!”
Every year since Juliet had hit seventeen, she’d trained and participated in endurance races against other teams of supernatural creatures in a trek across some of the most hostile, unforgiving places on the planet for magical and cash prizes.
It didn’t matter the season or the weather, the Black Jade company held two extreme survival races a year exclusively for supernatural racers across a grueling eighteen days.
The winter race was fast approaching, and Juliet had been training every day in preparation, long before having met Ilex.
Kerrigan didn’t say it, but she agreed it was dumb to give up something that clearly meant a lot to Juliet for a guy she didn’t have an actual relationship with.
“What’s the prize this year?”
Juliet gave a careless shrug. “Some super rare alchemical ingredients and a book of spells that would be a great birthday present for Callie, but honestly, I’m just looking to kick that Mongolian team of freaking pumas and their shaman squarely in the balls. They beat my team by twenty minutes last year, and you can’t convince me those pussies didn’t cheat!”
Juliet’s vehement declaration made Kerrigan smile.
“The venue?”
“From the Mediterranean to the Atlantic, via the Sahara desert.”
Kerrigan whistled in amazement, trying to imagine Juliet trekking through the endless shifting dunes.
“That’s a lot of sand. Hot freaking sand.”
Juliet’s answer was to laugh. “I’ll take sand over snow any day. It’ll be a good trek, and if I’m honest, I’ve been looking forward to it all year.”
“Then you definitely shouldn’t put it off.”
“Adventure waits for no man!” Juliet stated decisively, as she stood up and dusted off her butt. “Especially a man moodier than a hurricane over the ocean. Alright. Decided. Done. I’m going. We’ll hook up after I get back to summon Quentin. Good talk, Ker.”
She smiled and got up to hug her friend, her sister. “You’ll make a list like usual of things we can do to help you prepare and survive?”
“Absolutely. I’m gonna beat those Mong-holes like a drum this year!” Juliet whooped right in her ear, giving Kerrigan a rib crushing squeeze.
“I’m booking a flight to Nevada tomorrow and getting my Mojave on.”
“That’s the spirit!” Kerrigan laughed, glad to see a spring in Juliet’s step as she headed out.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
For the first time in too many years to count, Maksim felt the setting of the sun and came awake, refreshed after a deep and peaceful sleep. Instead of the dank, disgusting smell of his prison, he smelled clean linens, rosemary, and the softer scent of lilacs and jasmine.
He opened his eyes to pink light put off by the strange lamp on the bedside table, taking a moment to appreciate being able to see by studying its raw edges.
> There was a gentle rush of sound followed by careful footsteps that made him lift his head from the comfortable pillow, just in time to see Kerrigan tiptoe down the stairs with a stack full of clothes and a leather toiletry bag balanced in her arms.
Maksim watched her every move, in awe of the way her face immediately lit with joy to see him awake.
She skipped across the floor to him, setting the clothes down on the end of the bed, climbing up to brush her fingertips across his brow, brushing the hair from his forehead.
“How are you feeling?”
Maksim took her hand, turning his mouth to her wrist to feel the throb of her pulse in the delicate veins just below her skin. It felt real, undeniably real, but he had to be sure.
“Better than I have in a very long time. Kiss me.”
Kerrigan didn’t hesitate for even a millisecond. Her kiss was gentle, loving even. He hugged his arms around her and pulled her down on top of him, all but forcing her to accept the aggression suddenly coursing through him.
He needed to feel the press of her body against his, to feel the heat of her, to be overwhelmed by the smell of lilacs.
Maksim needed so badly for this to be real he took control of the kiss he’d asked for and didn’t even feel his fangs slice into his tongue as he ruthlessly shoved it past Kerrigan’s lips without an ounce of finesse.
She softened with a little moan, and he felt the hard tips of her nipples spearing into his chest. She wiggled to get closer, as though trying to become part of him.
Kerrigan made the sexiest sound of denial when he pulled back; her lips reddened with his blood, swollen and shiny from his frantic kiss.
Her eyes were hazy with desire; the feeling that spiked through him, watching her lick his blood from her lips… this, was real. He wasn’t asleep, chained in the darkness alone.
“Will you kiss me awake every day, so I know I’m not dreaming?” The words slipped out before Maksim could call them back.
Understanding spread across her expression, and electricity sizzled down his spine as she carded her fingers through his hair. “I promise.”
Maksim acknowledged the fact that his Bride would be the only one he could ever say something like that too and not be seen as weak.
“I brought you some stuff, and unfortunately, a small bit of bad news. Well, two small bits.”
Maksim sat up against the headboard, urging her to cuddle in against his chest. Her skin was so wonderfully warm, and he couldn’t keep from slipping his hands beneath her sweater to touch the smooth expanse of her back.
He buried his nose in her hair, rubbing his cheek across the soft strands, soaking her into his pores.
“Tell me.”
She tipped her head back on his shoulder with a hum, stroking her hand up and down his arm, seemingly every bit as intent on touching him as he was with her.
“I’ve got this client I have to do some work for tonight.”
“That’s hardly bad news, love. I would greatly enjoy watching you work.”
Her shy smile made the blood in his veins simmer with lust.
“It could take a while.”
Maksim lifted a strand of her black and silver hair to coil around his finger, studying the gradient colors and how it seemed to suit her.
“I have time. What’s the other bit?”
“Juliet told me how you two met.”
He patiently waited for her to continue, enjoying all the many sensations of being able to touch her again.
“You came to her house to give her parents the bad news that their son, Quentin Van Horn, died while working for your company.”
His brows pulled together in thought, seeking back across his memories. He remembered Quentin; he vividly remembered the night he’d come to the boy’s house to give them the news.
The mother’s wailing had been loud and dramatic enough to wake the dead. The father stood there, numb, deaf to his wife’s pain and to the frightened call of a little girl in navy blue pajamas.
From what little Quentin had talked about his family, Maksim knew the small girl with dark brown hair and huge blue eyes shimmering with tears was Quentin’s sister.
“I’ve seen my fair share of death, but I’d never come across a little girl who handled it better than her parents. The two of them were utterly useless, acting as though she wasn’t even there.
"Once she understood why her mother was scratching at her own face and rubbing ashes in her hair, Juliet looked past me at her parents with a sad sort of resignation.
"She asked me when to expect her brother’s body, so the family lawyer could start the funeral preparations. She couldn’t have been more than ten or twelve years old.”
Kerrigan traced a patch of scar tissue on his chest. “Did you ever find out what happened to Quentin?”
Maksim opened his mouth to say yes, his frown deepening when he realized no, he hadn’t.
“I left it to an investigative team to handle. I don’t recall ever hearing anything else about it.”
“Well, Juliet says no one ever came back to tell her or her family what happened.”
A slither of anger sullied the pleasure that came from having Kerrigan in his arms, and instead of looking forward to watching her work her magic, he thought about how he’d been so busy running his company; he’d broken a promise to a little girl who’d been completely alone.
All things considered, Juliet’s reaction to seeing him again had been rather sedate.
Maksim turned to press a kiss to Kerrigan’s forehead.
“I should have handled it personally. I will now. As soon as I make contact with my people, it will be my first order of business.”
“We never talked about your people or your business before. It’s a security company called Armistice?”
“It is.” Maksim regretted not having told Kerrigan about the other half of his life for so many reasons.
She’d been so very young; he hadn’t believed she would still look at him the way she was now had she known the extent of his business.
“You could call it the family empire, as it’s been in the hands of my maker’s progeny, one way or the other, since before I became a vampire. I took control from one of my brother’s over forty years ago.”
Several of his brothers had been unhappy with the change in leadership when Maksim enacted a hostile takeover to prevent his eldest brother, Bronagh, from going to war with one of the other vampire factions in New York over an imagined slight.
Bronagh had been the one to kill their maker and hadn’t been in his right mind since then.
Depending on which of his brothers had taken Maksim’s place after his disappearance, Maksim’s attempt to reach out to let his people know he was alive could be met with an army of soldiers with orders to kill.
Kerrigan distracted him from that concerning line of thought by touching a butterfly kiss to his jaw.
“What’s that face for?”
He gave himself a mental shake to offer her a smile. “Just wondering which one of my brothers is in charge now. My maker was not known for choosing gentlemen.”
“Oh, really? Because I recall several years of an insane level of gentlemanly behavior from someone who looked an awful lot like you.” Her playful teasing was accompanied by a sassy little smirk.
Maksim certainly didn’t feel much like a gentleman, but an obnoxious sound—like that of a goat being spit-roasted alive—came from the general vicinity of Kerrigan’s backside.
She swore a string of blistering curses after pulling her rather fancy cell phone from a pocket, her thumbs flying over the screen with a fierce scowl, muttering anatomically impossible suggestions the entire time.
Kerrigan finished her reply with a decisive stab, shaking the device at him warningly. “When we get you one of these, don’t ever give anyone your number except for me. It’s a damn electronic leash, and every asshole who has your number can grab hold and jerk you around.”
Maksim reached out to stroke his hand
down the tail of her messy braid, chuckling as he thought back to the first night he’d met her.
“You’re far too pretty for such coarse language.”
Her cheeks flushed for reasons other than ire.
“It’s a habit I’m unlikely to kick at this point.”
“There are worse things.” Maksim shot her a wink. “Who is it that disturbs you?”
Her nose wrinkled up with distaste. “The client I have to do the summoning for. He’s a prissy pain in my ass, but he paid me an exceptional amount of money, and I gave my word. There’s some stuff I have to get from my shop. Care to take a walk with me in the moonlight?”
“I would like nothing more.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Despite the troublesome issues with humans wearing thick scarves around their necks to ward off chills, autumn had always been his favorite season. It was another beautiful night. The moon was exceptionally large, and the light glistened off every drop of water clinging to the autumn leaves from the last rain, making them shine silver.
He savored his sight and the tight clasp of Kerrigan’s hand in his. She wasn’t in a hurry to get to her shop, strolling almost lazily down the lane, content in the silence. The building where she conducted her business came into view, simple in its construction.
There was nothing particularly special about it, other than to say it reminded him of an old western town.
A single-story row of three separate storefronts, with a fourth in construction, and an angled porch roof that wrapped around all four shops.
They were whitewashed on the outside, feminine and lovely, with different decals in the window designating which was which.
Kerrigan lifted her free hand to wave through the air, the locks on the doors clicking back to let them in. Candles flared upon their entrance, illuminating the open space done in varying shades of black.
He’d never considered that black could really differ in shades, but her Gothic decor was tasteful and quite lovely.
