by Sadie Moss
And Sol seemed genuinely attached to her. I trusted him as a judge of character. If he liked her, she must be a good person.
There was a knock on the bedroom door seconds before it opened. Malcolm strode into the room, followed closely by Jerrett. Their attention landed on me immediately, and they both pulled up short. Worried blue and brown gazes raked over my body, as if searching for injuries.
They’d been worried about me.
The realization cracked open a door in my heart, letting light fill the long-empty space.
“Willow.” Malcolm’s voice was low and rough.
Oh Jesus.
Heat rose in my face as memories flooded me, and I was positive my cheeks were flame red. What had happened between us hadn’t been a dream or a hallucination. As much as I might wish otherwise now, it’d been incredibly real. His searing kisses had seemed to steal a part of my soul, and his hands had been warm, calloused, and possessive.
His breath. His teeth on my skin, tearing through my bra and—
Embarrassment opened up a hole in my stomach, and I glanced down at myself. I wore a soft, long-sleeved shirt and stretchy gray pants.
They’d changed my clothes. Again.
That thought alone wasn’t nearly as humiliating as what they had changed me out of. Had Sol and Jerrett come downstairs and found me like that? Sprawled on the floor, my hair a mess, my shirt ripped open, and my bra shredded? Sol wouldn’t have been able to see me, but I had no doubt his other senses would’ve told him exactly what Malcolm and I had been doing. And that idea was somehow worse.
How did I let that happen?
One minute we’d been fighting, and the next, I’d been completely consumed by a man whose real name I didn’t even know.
I peeked up through my eyelashes. All three brothers were still watching me. Even with my focus glued to the bedspread in front of me, I could feel the weight of their gazes. Yuliya’s too.
“I think I had a vision,” I blurted.
What I’d seen in my dream felt important, but more than that, I needed to interrupt my current train of thought. If I lingered too long on what I’d done with Malcolm, of what his brothers might know, I’d devolve into a full-blown freak out.
Thank God, the vision had pulled me away. If it hadn’t, I was sure Malcolm and I would’ve…
Shoving away a fresh new wave of images and feelings, I forced myself to look up. “I saw something.”
“A vision?” Sol tilted his head.
I nodded, twisting a lock of hair around my fingers. “Yes. One minute I was… in my body. And then I sort of fell out of myself. I sank through the earth and floated in a black void. I couldn’t speak or smell or see. I was nothing.”
“Shit,” Jerrett murmured.
Sol shushed him and turned to me. “A black void. Go on.”
The intensity of his sightless stare made my skin prickle. If I’d thought the brothers might not believe me, that they’d laugh and call me crazy, I should’ve known better.
I was part of their world now. And things like this were real in their world.
Taking a deep breath, I continued.
“Then the blackness faded. I hovered in the sky. I don’t know if I was flying or floating, but none of it felt like it was under my control. I was just… there. I could see things below me, but I was too far away to make out everything.”
“What did you see?” Jerrett pushed his black hair out of his eyes.
Sol gave my hand a squeeze. It felt good to have his fingers interlinked with mine. Comforting. Strengthening.
“I saw an old building in a clearing. An abandoned church, I think. It was night, and there were—”
I broke off, suddenly afraid to speak it out loud. As if what I’d seen wasn’t a vision of what was but a premonition of what could be, and giving voice to it would make it real.
“There were what?”
A muscle in Malcolm’s jaw ticked. His expression was hard, but I couldn’t identify the emotion behind it.
“There were shades. Several of them. Six, maybe seven? I didn’t get an exact count; it was almost impossible to tell them from the surrounding shadows sometimes. They were in front of the church. I wanted to get closer, but I couldn’t do it.”
“You were stuck?” Sol asked.
“Yes! It was like I was suspended in space. I couldn’t move at all; there was nothing to grab onto. When I fought harder, I felt myself being pulled away, and I couldn’t fight against that either. The darkness sucked me back in.”
I paused, gathering my thoughts, trying to remember everything I’d seen. A pale face flashed in my mind.
“And there was someone with them. Someone who wasn’t one of them. The shades were all gathered around this person, but they didn’t attack it—like it was someone important.” I shook my head, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I tried to see more, but I couldn’t.”
The brothers were quiet for a moment. Yuliya’s sharp purple eyes darted from the three of them to me and back again. I shifted on the bed, uncomfortable with all the attention. I’d never had anyone listen to me so intently.
For as long as I could remember, I’d had strange, vivid dreams. I’d tried describing them to Kyle on occasion but gave up after watching his eyes glaze over from boredom one too many times.
This was more than just a dream. Whatever the vision had been, it meant something. It was important. Of course, these men would be interested in it. Still, it was strange to feel so… heard.
Picking at a loose thread in the comforter, I sighed. “I don’t know what it means. I don’t know where the church is or how I saw all that. But it felt real.”
“It was real. You have the Sight.” Sol’s voice was quiet, almost reverent. “An old gift. Most vampires don’t have it anymore. It’s more common in other supernaturals, but even then, it’s an incredibly rare thing.”
“So what does it mean? Why did I have this vision?”
“You’re connected to the shades somehow. Your spirit went searching for them.” Malcolm broke away from Jerrett to pace across the room, his back to us.
Was it my imagination, or was he avoiding my gaze now? Shit. Did he regret what had happened between us? Despite my own misgivings and embarrassment, that thought stabbed like a hot knife.
Jesus. I spent nine years feeling nothing, and now I feel too much. I can’t stop feeling.
I ripped my attention away from Malcolm’s tense shoulders and looked back at Sol. “Connected? How? What does that mean?”
Sol squeezed my hand one more time then let go, rising to his feet.
“Something is drawing your Sight to them. If you can learn to control your power, you won’t be helpless in your visions. You’ll be able to move your consciousness, to have agency. You won’t be able to interact with the things in your visions, no seer can do that. But if you can identify the shades’ location, that’s enough. You can help us track them.”
“And then what?”
His strange green eyes blazed. “Then we’ll hunt them down and kill them.”
21
Willow
I lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling, listening to the slow thud… thud… thud of my heartbeat. As strange as it was to be a vampire with a pulse, I was grateful this particular part of vampiric myth had been wrong. I’d rather have a heartbeat than not, even if the rhythm was much slower than it’d been when I was human.
After peppering me with a few more questions about the nature of my vision, Sol had told me to get some rest and assured me we’d talk more in the evening. I’d almost laughed at his words.
Get some rest? Yeah, sure thing. No problem.
My mind raced in circles at a thousand miles a minute. I was exhausted and wired at the same time, but sleep refused to come. It was probably around one or two in the afternoon, though the dark room gave no indication of that. I felt jet lagged, like my brain and body couldn’t agree on what time it was.
More of those visions will come.
And I have to learn to control them. How the hell do I do that?
Sol had seemed awed by the revelation of my strange new ability, and Malcolm had seemed almost angry—though I wasn’t sure if he was mad about the Sight or something else. Jerrett’s perma-smirk made it a little hard to tell what he thought of all this, but he definitely believed in the vision I’d had.
Would the brothers let me join them on their hunt if I could pinpoint the shades’ location?
Did I want that?
Yes.
The simple truth of my answer caught me off guard. But I did want it. The shades were more than just a threat to me. If the brothers were right, they were a threat to humans and possibly even other supernaturals. If I could save some other poor woman from the fate that had befallen me, shouldn’t I do it?
The dream I’d held onto for so many years—the bakery with a blue door and the pristine white counters, filled with the smell of lemon and vanilla—had died the night I almost did. But a new dream had slowly been coalescing to take its place.
A dream of a purpose. Of a place in the world.
Sol, Jerrett, and Malcolm were hunters. Their self-appointed duty was to keep others safe.
What better purpose was there than that?
As unnerving as the events and discoveries of the past week had been, I was starting to realize maybe I didn’t want to get off this crazy ride.
And that scared the shit out of me.
I sighed and slipped out of bed, running my fingers through my dark hair. There was no point trying to sleep; I was just stewing in my own confused thoughts. I needed a distraction.
As if responding to my silent request, my stomach let out a low growl.
I bit back a chuckle as I patted my belly. Good point, buddy. Food is always an excellent distraction.
I stepped out into the long hallway. My eyes were definitely sharper now than they had been, because I could make out the hardwood floors and smooth, cream-colored walls despite the almost pitch blackness of my surroundings. A grandfather clock along the wall told me it was just after 2 p.m.
It was almost impossible to believe the world outside was bright with sunlight right now.
That was one thing I missed. Light. Real light, and the warmth of the sun shining down on my skin. This house was beautiful, but it was dark and cold. Maybe the brothers didn’t notice because they’d been here so long, but I certainly did.
Keeping my footsteps light, I tiptoed down the stairs, caressing the rich mahogany banister as I made my way down. Jesus, these guys were not in need of money. Were all vampires this rich? It wouldn’t surprise me. If immortal beings invested wisely for several hundred years, they could accrue a fortune.
I hadn’t visited the kitchen during my shadow running excursion, but I found it after a few minutes of searching and flipped on the warm under-cabinet lights.
My jaw dropped.
It looked like something out of my wet dreams—high ceilings, dark wood cabinets, pristine marble counters, and a large breakfast bar with high stools. The fridge itself was bigger than the front door of my apartment.
When I opened it, my gaze landed first on a large stack of blood bags.
I grabbed one, ripped it open, and downed the contents in less than a minute. Then I opened another and drank it more slowly, savoring it a little. There was still something flat about bagged blood, something bland and cold, but it satisfied the burning hunger inside me.
For a moment, I imagined what fresh blood would taste like. Rich and warm, I bet. Smooth and full of layered flavors.
Unbidden, my stomach grumbled again, despite the fact that I’d just eaten.
I shivered. As delicious as that sounded, the idea of what I’d have to do to get fresh blood made me slightly queasy.
I closed the fridge and tossed the empty bags into the trash.
Now that the pang of blood-hunger had eased, a new kind of hunger took its place—one I was much more familiar with. I hadn’t baked in what felt like forever, and this kitchen was too amazing not to put to good use. The beautiful oven was so pristine I was sure it’d never been touched. It was a sin to have a piece of equipment like that and not use it.
If I lived here, really lived here, this kitchen would smell like vanilla and chocolate every day.
The brothers didn’t exactly seem like the baking types, but Yuliya must be, because the kitchen was amazingly well stocked. Eggs, butter, and milk sat in the fridge next to the blood bags. And in the corner of the kitchen, a large door led to a walk-in pantry.
Gleaming cupcake trays, cake tins, spatulas, and whisks lined one shelf. I found flour and sugar right away, along with a wide variety of chocolates, vanilla pods, and exotic spreads.
I scooped up everything I needed and brought it back into the kitchen with me. Then I rolled up my sleeves and threw my hair into a messy bun, already feeling calmer. Sifting, measuring, and stirring were almost meditative for me, and as the batter came together, my brain finally stopped whirling.
I was just putting the second batch of cupcakes in the oven when a noise behind me made me jump. I slammed the oven door and whipped around guiltily, as though I’d been caught stealing instead of baking.
“I’m sorry! I couldn’t sleep!” I blurted.
Jerrett sauntered into the kitchen, and my jaw nearly dropped. He wore only a pair of deep blue pajama pants, slung low across his hips. His waist was strong and lean, and the grooves of his abs looked incredible in the warm golden light. His shoulders were broad, his arms muscled and corded. He was taller than Sol, but a bit shorter than Malcolm, and unlike Malcolm’s huge, dominating frame, Jerrett’s body was leaner, sharper. He had tattoos on each side of his neck, one on his bicep, and one on his chest.
Forget rock star. He looks like a fucking rock god.
My thoughts must’ve been visible on my face, because his ice-blue eyes heated and a cocky smirk broke out on his face.
“That’s okay. I couldn’t either.”
“Couldn’t what?” I asked lamely, blinking several times—as if that would somehow make this man less blindingly attractive.
His smirk widened. “Sleep.”
“Oh, right! Me neither.”
He chuckled, sweeping a hand through his shock of dark hair. “Yeah, I think we’ve established that.”
“Oh. Right.” I closed my eyes. Come on, Willow. Be cool.
“So what are you doing?” Jerrett walked farther into the kitchen, peering around at the ingredients and utensils spread around the counters.
“Sorry.” I suddenly felt incredibly presumptuous for sneaking down to their kitchen in the middle of the day and rooting through the pantry without even asking. “I… I bake when I get anxious. I’ll do the dishes in a sec, don’t worry. And I’ll pay for all the ingredients.”
Jerrett shot me a look like I was crazy. “No, you won’t. You’re our guest. Besides, it’s not like we were using this stuff.”
I grinned, the nerves in my stomach unclenching. “I figured none of you guys were big into baking.”
“Nah. But damn, maybe we should’ve been.” He gazed down at the chocolate cupcakes cooling on a wire rack. “These smell fucking incredible.”
Pride inflated my chest like a balloon. “You can try one, if you want. Let me frost it first though.”
Jerrett looked on with interest while I mixed up a buttercream frosting with orange peel in it. It was incredibly hard to focus with him hovering behind me. I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, and his smoky scent mingled with the smell of the cupcakes, making my mouth water.
I dipped a finger in the frosting to taste it, wanting to make sure I got the ratio of sweet to citrus right. When I brought it to my mouth, a low, deep hum came from behind me. The sound sent little shocks of lightning ricocheting through my body, and heat pooled in my belly.
“I want a taste.”
Jerrett’s voice was teasing and commanding at the same time. A flush crept up my cheeks as I looked up and fou
nd him watching me expectantly. I dipped my finger into the frosting again, and Jerrett reached out, taking my hand and bringing it to his mouth.
His lips closed around my finger.
Except, it wasn’t my finger.
It couldn’t be.
There was no way I had this many nerve endings in the tip of my finger. His warm, wet mouth might as well be clamped around my nipple. Or my clit.
My jaw fell open, a sharp, shocked breath escaping as he worked his tongue around my fingertip, licking off every bit of frosting.
I couldn’t tear my focus away from his sharp blue eyes, and he didn’t seem to want to let me. He gazed at me with an almost unnerving intensity as he slowly slid my finger out of his mouth.
Reclaiming my hand and trying to put the discombobulated pieces of myself back together, I stammered, “Um, Jerrett, I… Malcolm and I, we—”
Crap. I really didn’t want to tell him about what Malcolm and I had done on the floor of the training room. But I had to, before he got the wrong idea.
Jerrett’s smile returned, the ring in his lower lip glinting in the light.
“Don’t worry about it, Will. I know Mal has a thing for you. It’s pretty fucking obvious. Sol does too.” He tugged his lip ring into his mouth, his grin positively wicked. “Good thing I don’t mind sharing.”
22
Willow
I blinked, my brows furrowing.
Then the full meaning of his words sank in.
Heat tore through my body like an inferno at the same time nervous embarrassment flooded my cheeks.
“I… we… I…”
I would’ve kept repeating those two words over and over like a broken record if Jerrett hadn’t stroked a knuckle down my cheek.
“Relax, Will. Just putting it out there. You already shared us once, the night we turned you. And it was incredible. This could be even better than that.”
My body unconsciously leaned into his touch. His words had left me so turned on I was a heartbeat away from climbing him like a tree and rubbing myself all over his naked torso, just to ease some of the desperate ache inside me.
