by Sadie Moss
Then I kept tilting.
Just like it had that first time with Malcolm, my soul suddenly seemed to weigh twice as much as my body. My physical form was wrapped in Sol’s protective embrace, head tilted up, wide eyes staring at the ceiling. But my soul fell backward, sliding through the wall, through the floor, through layers of rock and sediment into nothing.
For the second time, blackness swallowed me up.
The panic was no less acute, even having been here once before. I had the terrifying feeling that I might get stuck here, trapped in nothingness, trapped as nothingness. Floating forever.
Then, slowly, the world coalesced around me.
I hovered in the air, just like I had last time. Below me, the same abandoned structure I’d seen before crouched like a gargoyle in the large field. There were fewer shades than there had been last time, but several still floated around in the dim moonlight outside.
My mind raced. At least we knew they were out of New York. And this place must be their hideout if they’d returned here again. But where was here? I needed to find something new, to see something I hadn’t before, or this entire trip would be wasted.
Gathering my focus, I fought to move my consciousness through space. It was like trying to swim with no arms, and for a moment, nothing happened.
I stopped, frustration rising in me.
Damn it. Maybe the problem is that I’m still trying to move as if I have limbs. I don’t. So flailing won’t make a bit of difference.
But how did creatures with no limbs move?
Feeling a little ridiculous, I imagined my consciousness as a snake wending its way through the grass. An effortless, undulating glide forward.
Elation filled me when the old building in the distance seemed to grow. It was getting closer! Or rather, I was getting closer to it. I kept up the careful glide, watching the shades to make sure they truly couldn’t see me.
But no heads turned my way, even as I slipped through a large broken window and into the abandoned building.
It was a church.
Only about half the pews remained intact; the rest had rotted away or lay amongst small piles of debris scattered about the room. A large cross hung on a wall at the back of the church. On the dais beneath it sat an altar stained with something thick, dark, and matte. Dried blood.
Then a faint sound reached me.
Crying.
A child was crying.
I searched the rest of the large space. On the choir risers off to the side of the dais, a cluster of small bodies huddled together. The brownish-gray color of their skin confirmed they were goblins.
Fear lanced through me. How many of them were there? How many had died already?
I tried to move forward again, but in my panic, I lost the easy glide I’d found before. I struggled against empty space, but it was no good. Instead of moving forward, my consciousness was tugged back, out through the window where I’d come in.
No! No, no, no!
Scrabbling for some kind of purchase in the ether, I tried to slow my movement. I couldn’t go yet. I needed to find something. Some kind of landmark or clue. Something!
But I was flying backward, gliding away so fast the thick, dense forest below me was almost a blur.
Then I saw it. Heard it.
The roar of rushing rapids.
The white spray as thousands of gallons of water hurtled over a sheer cliff face.
Niagara Falls.
Well, that’ll do for a landmark.
25
Sol
“You’re too tense, my boy.” Yuliya clucked her tongue. “She’ll be fine. She’s hearty, this girl. Too skinny, but hearty.”
“I know she is, Yuliya. And I know she will be.”
But that didn’t unwind the knot of worry in my stomach. I’d felt Willow clinging to me before her spirit left her body, and the urge to hold on to her, to protect her no matter what, had been more powerful than I’d ever experienced.
I had kissed her to try to provoke a vision, and to prove a point to myself—though what that point was, I no longer quite remembered. If it’d been to prove I wasn’t under her thrall the same way my brothers were, my plan had backfired entirely. Because as soon as my lips touched hers, I’d been lost completely.
There was something so alluring about Willow.
Several things actually.
There was her softness and innocence in a world that tried its best to foster disillusionment. There was the steel backbone that hid underneath her sweetness—the bravery and stubbornness that glowed inside her like a fire on a dark night. Her enchanting cherry-almond scent. Her smooth skin, beautiful despite the markings cruelly carved into her body. Her ass, which fit so perfectly in the palms of my hands.
I shifted uncomfortably. The need to finish what we’d started left my cock semi-hard, but now wasn’t the time to think about that. Willow was laid out on the bed again, her breath so shallow and slow that I could barely sense it. She felt almost dead.
A shock of panic ran through me at that thought, and I reached out to grip her soft, delicate-fingered hand. Her skin was reassuringly warm, and I raised her palm to my lips, pressing a kiss to the center of it.
I couldn’t help but inhale her essence one more time, like a junky getting high. The sweet, natural scent of her skin and blood.
And beneath it, something more.
Some scent, some taste I couldn’t identify. It was familiar, but just out of my mind’s reach. And it drew me like a siren’s song.
“Stop sniffing her hand and let her rest!”
Yuliya smacked the back of my head lovingly—and hard.
I let out a defeated chuckle and gently replaced Willow’s hand on the bedspread. Yuliya was one of the only people I knew who would give powerful vampires like my brothers and me so much sass. It was why we’d hired her, and why we all adored her. None of us had wanted a housekeeper who tiptoed around the place, jumping at our every move.
Yuliya didn’t tiptoe. And she definitely didn’t jump.
She had gone after Jerrett with a broom several times, threatening to wallop him. But he had absolutely deserved it.
“She is a lucky girl, my boy. To have three people care about her as you and your brothers do.”
The old witch’s voice had turned serious, and I tipped my head up to regard her. Her heartbeat was strong but fast, and the skin of her hands sounded like paper as she twisted her fingers together.
“Four people, I think.” I smiled up at her, and she clucked again.
“I do like her. She is good for you. All of you.”
Before I could respond to that, Willow gasped. Her body sprang up off the bed, her hand grasping desperately for mine. I tugged her quickly into the comfort of my embrace, expecting the same panic and disorientation as last time.
But Willow, as if she’d heard Yuliya and me talking while she slept, demonstrated once again how strong she was.
Though her body still quaked with tremors and her heartbeat was a rapid staccato beat in her chest, her voice was strong when she said, “I know where the shades are hiding, Sol. The kids are there—some of them still alive. We have to help them.”
As it turned out, Willow didn’t know exactly where they were. But she’d seen enough for us to figure out the rest.
A few moments after she woke, Jerrett and Malcolm arrived in the room. Malcolm’s voice echoed with suspicion when he asked what had brought on the second vision. Mine was full of challenge when I told him.
I could sense Willow blushing furiously next to me, but I caught the scent of something else too.
Arousal.
Hers, and my own. My brothers’ too.
It was time to stop tiptoeing around the feelings we all shared for her. Malcolm may not be ready to admit it—and I understood why, even though his own actions toward her made him a hypocrite—but she was ours. She owned us and had since the night we turned her.
Willow had described her vision for us several tim
es, going through everything in painstaking detail. When she’d reached the part where she flew away from the church and past the rushing water of Niagara Falls, Jerrett had grunted under his breath. He’d typed away on his phone for several seconds and then let out a triumphant noise.
If we assumed Willow’s spirit traveled toward her body when it left the site of the ruin, and we knew she’d passed over a large forest before she saw the waterfalls, that narrowed down the possible location of the shades significantly.
They were in Canada, not far from the border.
“Are you sure you’re right about this?”
Willow’s voice broke me from my thoughts. The sweet, melodic tone was tinged with worry. She’d been anxious and jittery ever since she woke up.
“As sure as we can be,” Jerrett tossed back from the driver’s seat. “We’ll be able to pinpoint their exact location once we get closer. As long as we’re right about the general area, we can track them.”
“Okay.” She blew out a breath, her body relaxing beside me—but only slightly. “How long will it take to get there?”
“About five hours.” I punched the back of Jerrett’s seat lightly. “But with the way my brother drives, probably closer to four.”
“Pshh. You love the way I drive.”
“Let’s just say it’s one of the few things that makes me glad I can’t see,” I shot back, chuckling.
“Are you all—?” Willow broke off, smoothing down her hair.
Hoping conversation would ease some of her anxiousness, I pulled her hand into mine and squeezed. “Are we what?”
She hesitated for a moment, but like it usually did with her, curiosity won out. “Are you all actually brothers? I always hear you say that, but… well, I don’t know if you know this, but you guys don’t look anything alike.”
Jerrett howled with laughter, and even Malcolm chuckled.
“Yeah, did you know that, Sol? Sorry to break it to you, but my devastating good looks are all mine,” Jerrett teased.
“At least my face isn’t so boring I had to decorate it with a bunch of metal just to spruce it up a little,” I shot back lightly.
Willow giggled. “Calm down, boys. You’re all very sexy.”
Jerrett’s voice dropped, turning smooth and rich. “Hear that? She thinks I’m sexy.”
Willow sucked in a breath beside me, embarrassment setting in as she realized what she’d said. She tried to reclaim her hand, but I didn’t let her, resting it on my thigh and squeezing tighter.
“She said we all are, jackass. Not just you.” Malcolm punched our brother’s arm, more lighthearted than I’d seen him in a long time.
I turned to Willow. “To answer your question—no. Though we may act like it sometimes, we’re not brothers born of the same mother. But we are brothers in all the ways that count.”
“Brothers in all the ways that count,” she repeated with a soft sigh. “I like that. I never had any siblings, and I always felt like I was missing out on something amazing.”
I rubbed my thumb across the back of her hand, reveling in the little shiver that worked its way through her body at my touch. “You can build your own family, Willow. You can make it anything you want.”
This time, she was the one to tighten her grip on me. “Thanks, Sol.” She paused. “So, have you all known each other a long time?”
“A very long time.” Malcolm’s voice was serious.
“Which one of you is oldest?”
I was enjoying this side of Willow. Curious as a kitten, open and earnest. I could tell my brothers did too, as a happy energy filled the car.
“What, can’t you tell?” Jerrett drummed a rhythm on the steering wheel, still chuckling.
She shook her head, and the scent of almond wafted from her thick hair.
“Guess,” he prodded.
I felt her gaze shift to each of us in turn—could sense the intensity of her stare as she regarded me.
“Sol,” she said finally.
Jerrett cracked up again. “Nope! Try again, Will.”
“Malcolm?”
“Ohh, so close, but no cigar. I’ll let you have one more guess though.”
“You?”
Incredulity resonated in her voice, and this time Malcolm and I laughed.
“Jerrett is almost two thousand years old,” I murmured. “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, kind of.” Her voice was low, as if she worried she might offend him. “He seems so… so…”
“Well assimilated?”
“Yeah. He looks so cool. Contemporary. The first time I met him, I thought he was a rock star or something.”
Jerrett gave a low, hungry growl. “Damn right, you did, sweetheart.”
Willow’s breath caught, and the scent of arousal filled the car just like it had the bedroom earlier. I clenched my jaw. We needed to release this tension sooner rather than later. If we didn’t, it would keep torturing and distracting us—and for hunters like us, distractions could prove deadly.
“So who’s the youngest?” Willow asked, her voice a little rougher than usual as she fought to tamp down her body’s response.
“I am.”
Her head whipped toward me. “What? Really?”
“Yes. I’m only a hundred and fifty-five years old. I was fighting for the North in the Civil War when I became gravely ill. Lupus, although I didn’t know that at the time. I lost my eyesight and would’ve lost my life, but Jerrett turned me before death took me.”
“Holy shit!”
A grin tugged at my lips. “That is one way to put it.”
Her voice grew pensive. “Wow. You fought in the Civil War. One hundred and fifty-five years ago. And Jerrett… two thousand years? Holy fuck. That’s so long. This is all just… I mean, I knew, but…”
She trailed off, sounding lost.
I reached over with my other hand and cupped the side of her cheek. A tear landed on my fingertip, and I was struck by the strangest urge to lift it to my mouth, as if by drinking her tears I could take her sadness upon myself.
“You won’t be alone, Willow. You’ll live many, many years; but I promise, you’ll never be alone.”
Willow gave a watery chuckle, leaning into my touch. “I came to New York to re-invent myself. I just never thought the new me would be so crazily different from the old me.”
“I don’t think she is.” Malcolm spoke quietly from the front seat. “I think this is who you’ve always been. You just didn’t let your true self free before.”
There was a moment of heavy silence, then Willow’s shoulders shifted as she pulled in a deep breath. I felt her muscles relax, and she leaned her head against my shoulder.
Malcolm was right.
This was the real Willow, the one Fate had always intended her to be. She was meant for more than a shitty marriage in a boring life. Her light was meant to shine brighter than that.
And as her body molded to mine, her head tilting so she could gaze out the window beside us, I knew she was beginning to accept that truth.
Good girl. I brought our joined hands to my lips and kissed her knuckles. There’s strength in fighting, but there’s strength in giving in too.
26
Willow
The dark scenery of New York state whizzed by as Jerrett’s Mercedes sped down the road. I didn’t let go of Sol’s hand, and when his arm found its way around my shoulders, I burrowed into his embrace.
It was strange to feel so safe and protected with these men whom most of the world would’ve seen as a threat. And they were dangerous, of that I had no doubt. But I also knew on an almost instinctual level that they would never do anything to hurt me, never put me in danger if they could help it.
The only danger they presented to me was to my heart.
And that danger was very real.
I don’t mind sharing.
Jerrett’s words wouldn’t stop playing through my mind. His implication had been very clear—hell, he’d basically come righ
t out and said it. He wanted me. And if Sol and Malcolm did too, he’d share. Could I share, though? Could I share myself with three men and give enough to each of them?
And why the hell was I even thinking about three when I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to get involved with even one of them?
The conversation drifted to other topics as we drove. I told them a bit more about my life in Ohio and what had brought me to New York. The temperature in the car dropped several degrees when I mentioned that after our second anniversary, Kyle had suggested we stop celebrating them—ostensibly to “save money.”
“But we never did anything with the money we saved,” I added, shaking my head. “It probably just bought him more beer and potato chips.”
“Where does this guy live?”
Jerrett’s voice was so fierce that for a moment, fear skittered up my spine.
“In… Cincinnati.” I didn’t give more details than that, although I was sure an expert hunter like him would have no problem tracking down my ex. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s out of my life now. And he wasn’t all that bad. He wasn’t abusive or anything. He never hit me.”
“That’s the lowest fucking bar I’ve ever heard of,” Jerrett growled. “The man let a gorgeous rose wither on the vine, and I’m supposed to give him credit because he didn’t take a pair of clippers to it? Nope, sorry, sweetheart.”
Another emotion mingled with my concern. Something more powerful and much sweeter. Still, I had to make sure Jerrett didn’t do something stupid just for me.
“I’m not making excuses for Kyle. But please don’t do anything to him. I can take care of myself now. And I’d rather you use your hunting abilities on the creatures that really deserve it.” I thought of the shades in that abandoned church, the blood dripping down the altar. “Feel free to rip them to shreds.”
“Oh, I plan to, Will.”
Moonlight glinted off Jerrett’s lip ring, and his grin in the rearview mirror was bloodthirsty.
