Library

8. Lewis

CHAPTER 8

LEWIS

E very single fiber in my body is on fire. I am going to pummel Denver into the ground for this one. Why the hell did he let her in? He bloody well knows who she is. And that I am trying to ignore the bond, and this is making it almost impossible. I glance at my older brother, now settled on the sofa, whiskey in hand. The smirk over his face sees my brows lower. He's enjoying this.

Samantha clears her throat and I drag my focus to her face. Her hands are almost white around the satchel strap running over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry to just show up. It's probably not what students are supposed to do. But I was working on that project you helped me with the other day, and I?—"

"You thought driving to my house was appropriate?" My words come out far harsher than I intend. My annoyance is at my brother, not her.

Samantha stiffens. Her gaze darts around the small space, heart rate climbing at an astonishing pace. Fuck.

I take a step back, hoping a little distance will hamper the need that pushes through me when her heart takes off like that.

"I'm sorry; I should go. It was stupid." She walks toward the door.

Denver appears before it far too fast and turns to face her, his hands behind him closing the door with a gentle thud. She gasps and looks from my brother's face to mine.

She's scared.

Enough.

"Let her go, Denver." The words are a low rumble that translates to a warning. I don't want her here. And when she steps back toward me, I brace myself as her scent works its way through my senses yet again.

"Samantha, is it?" he asks.

"How do you know my name?" she says to him before looking at me directly. The realization that I have told my brother about her lands and her mouth parts. Her heart kicks up again.

Denver smiles at her, this time in a friendly way.

"Lewis told me about you. Said you had an interest in the supernatural, which is something we also take interest in."

"Oh." Her voice is soft, understanding, but a little too innocent.

"Come in, I can help you with whatever you were needing for your project. Denver may have some more information for you; he is a keen study of everything Wicca and vampirical. You have five minutes."

Her brows shoot up, and she bites her lower lip before nodding. I lead her into the living room. I gesture for her to sit, and she sinks onto the sofa, still gripping her satchel. Finding the furthest point that is still socially acceptable, I sit. Denver swaggers into the room, plonks on the sofa opposite her, and leans back, lacing his fingers behind his head.

Samantha pulls the bag from her shoulder and pulls out a notebook and pen.

"What species are we looking at for the project?" I snap.

She glances between us. "Vampires, still."

"What is it that you need to know?" Denver asks. "We have comprehensive insight on the species." He leaves the part out where it is from personal experience.

"Well, researching their physical traits, I found some inconsistencies." She is looking at her notes intensely. I shift in my seat, thinking back to the moments that I shared with her, combing through them, hunting for anything not human enough to keep me conspicuous. "What did you find?"

Denver throws me a look—his ‘it's now or never' face.

"Well, for starters, some sources refer to their speed, some do not. Some online sites claim that they can move about freely in the sun, while older documentation from more historic sources claimed they were strictly creatures of the night." She looks up and stares right at me. I swallow past the lump in my throat that forms with the speed she is referring to, fighting the urge to growl at her.

I open my mouth to enlighten her, and Denver leans forward. "Speed is accurate, daylight is not a problem, and while we like to get out at night, it's not essential. We form mating bonds, only once in our supernatural lifetime, and it is rare for interspecies bonds, but not impossible; other species are usually aware of our presence unless their abilities have been dulled for whatever reason; and we can only be killed by some kind of unnatural interference or silver dagger to the heart. We can't enter someone's home unless invited in or else we shatter to a million pieces. Is there anything else on your list?"

I can't drag my gaze from her stunned face. Denver said we .

Fucking hell, Den.

"How old are you both?" she says softly.

So, she picked up what he put down. Just great.

Den glances at me. "Around three hundred years, give or take a decade or two, depending how you calculate it."

Samantha simply stares at me. I swallow hard. That seems to be all I can do right now, unless you count the threadbare breaths that slip past my lips.

And then she shifts on the sofa, with a small huffing laugh. "Have either of you... I mean, are either of you mated?"

"I had a mate, her name was Zahli, it was fifty years ago now." Denver's shift on his seat but then recovers. "What I want to know, Samantha." He clasps his hands together in front of him. I am literally unable to move my body at this point. He sighs, as if all the rehashing is tiring to someone who rarely tires. "What kind of magic do you practice?"

"I—" She swallows and shakes her head, glancing at me before shifting on the sofa. Her heart pounds faster, hand reaching for her pendant.

"Green. Kitchen. Psychological. Elemental?" Denver's words have turned short. He is trying to figure out if she wields elemental magic. And I know all too well he will use her up to save my miserable existence.

She shifts her shoulders back, her eyes drilling into his. "I don't honestly remember. I wasn't encouraged to hone my skills after the age of eight."

Transparency it is.

I shift closer to her. "Time's up."

Denver catches my movement and leans closer to her. The bounding in my veins intensifies. He is testing my resistance to the bond by being in her space. Prick.

"Fine. My initial take on you was vampire. The least I can do is give you as much."

Well, shit. I didn't expect that. Her persona far exceeds her age.

"I have been studying basic Wiccan magic my whole life, but after an incident with my brother, I stopped practicing." She lets go of the pendant and wrings her hands together.

"If you're practically unmagical to the point of being human, why is Anjelica keeping tabs on you?" I ask, hoping she will know something that connects the two.

"I have no idea who that woman is. Or her friends."

"Anjelica is one of the most powerful Wiccans to have lived across multiple centuries. Her magic keeps her young. She is able to harness all four Wiccan practices, including elemental."

"What does that have to do with me?" she asks.

The last person I want to be vulnerable around is this almost-witch... but if there is a chance she can help?

I look at Denver but decide the truth it is. "She asked something of me a long time ago that I could not fulfill, and as punishment, she cursed me. She gave me a limited number of months to live before the cycle of the moon would end my life but never told me how long I have, mostly to keep me in endless torment. What better punishment than to live centuries, terrified every moon is your last. Anyway, the only way to break the cycle is to use a spell, one that harnesses all four elements in one moment."

"Lewis and I have been scouring the earth for centuries trying to find a witch with that kind of power. But every time we were close, that particular witch either went missing or died," Denver says.

"You think she thinks I am an elemental witch, and that's why she is keeping tabs on me?"

"It's a theory. But if you tell us you're not one, then we have no choice but to believe you," I say.

"I'm not; at least if I had been, I'm not anymore. I lost my ability at the age of eight. It's not something you can simply turn back on."

I sag into the chair and stare past her. Partially relieved it's not Samantha, and I don't have another reason to have to be around her, partially devastated we still have no solution.

"Look"—she pivots on the seat to face me—"I'm sorry I can't help you. Thank you for the information. I should be going." She rises and pulls her satchel back onto her shoulder.

I stand and walk behind her to the door. "You cannot breathe a word of anything we have told you today. Not even to that best friend of yours."

"I understand. And I won't."

Curiosity supersedes my aversion to witches as I ask, "What's the end goal for your project?"

"Not sure, actually... I kind of started it when I?—"

"When you met me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Um, I... I just felt compelled to." She blushes with a shrug and runs a hand over her face. If I didn't know better, I would say she feels the bond, too. But I am not about to bring it up and sure as hell am not going to put her in danger by being bonded to me.

Council aside, if Anjelica knew about the mating bond, she would use it to hurt me, and it wouldn't end well for Samantha. At all. Images of Zahli, Denver's mate, limp on the asphalt, the light gone from her eyes, her body twisted into inhumane angles, flood my mind. I shove my hands in my pocket.

She is studying my face, hovering by the front door. Sunlight streams through the windowpane by the door, filtering through her hair. It shimmers golden when she makes the smallest move.

"Well, if that's everything you need."

"Oh yeah, sure, I'll get out of your hair." She opens the door, and I fight the overwhelming pull to follow her. Then she disappears over the threshold, leaving me staring at the door. Minutes later, her car engine whines to life and rolls down the gravel drive. I close my eyes and let my forehead thud onto the door.

"Oh brother, you have it bad."

"Shut up, Denver," I drawl into the wood.

"At least she's pretty?"

I snap my head up and spin around. Before his next heartbeat, my hand is at his throat. A smile pulls over his smug face as he waits for me to sort through what I just did. Fuck.

I drop my hand and step back. Denver chuckles, slapping me on the back. "It could be worse, little brother; she could still hate you."

I am pretty sure she still does. But that's the most civil conversation we have ever had, and about the most unhinged topic on the planet. At least she can hold her own in that department. Despite her being the only witch we have ever had in our home, and most likely the last, Denver warmed to her quicker than me.

After what happened to Zahli, I never thought he would look at another witch again without wanting to rip their throat out. I really must be a mess if he is playing matchmaker. I'm officially screwed. How can I survive the rest of the semester in the same room as her with this bond pushing me to the edge every other minute?

"You look like you could use a run," Denver says, grabbing his coat from the hook by the door.

And some.

Maybe feeding again will temper the animalistic tendencies I have around Samantha. It can't hurt to try.

We are bundled up and out the door before the sun starts to lower in the sky. This time, I take the lead, streaking through the forest at a pace so fast, even Denver struggles to keep up. Birds flee branches as we run past, leaving a wake of broken timber behind us. Past the first ridge, we climb higher, not slowing. I reach the peak and stop.

Denver slides to a halt beside me. The sun slips over the horizon, and the stars begin to stud the sky behind us, one by one. From our high position, most of the reserve sprawls out in front of us. The gushing creek winds its way through the tall pines and grey stones.

I run a hand through my tousled hair and loose a sigh. The weight of everything reaffirms its grip with every deep inhale.

"We will find someone, Lew," Denver says.

I force a smile and meet his gaze. I want to believe him, I do. Perspective is a wonderful thing, and up on this ledge, it hits me. I've had more than three lifetimes to enjoy what I was given the day Anjelica let me turn. And how have I spent it? Running in fear, wasting months searching for something that may not be able to be found. Maybe that is the real punishment in the end.

Centuries of fear and chaos. Not the end. Not the expiry date she set for me. And the kicker... To have found my mate weeks before my time is about to come to an end is fucking tragic. And I don't want to leave my brother behind.

But I have also waited longer than any other man on this earth to find what Denver had with Zahli. My entire life has been one desperate choice after another. I have wasted the precious gift she inadvertently gave me. For that, maybe I don't deserve a mate. And that is the worst burden to carry.

I return my focus to the now orange and pink hues of the fading daylight. The image of Samantha's face, her blue eyes, her soft curls framing her face. Her soft pink lips as she chews her bottom lip. I groan and sink to my knees. Denver slaps a hand onto my shoulder, and I scream, burying my fingers in the dirt, palms pushing into the sparse grass.

I am a fucking idiot.

Comments

0 Comments
Best Newest

Contents
Settings
  • T
  • T
  • T
  • T
Font

Welcome to FullEpub

Create or log into your account to access terrific novels and protect your data

Don’t Have an account?
Click above to create an account.

lf you continue, you are agreeing to the
Terms Of Use and Privacy Policy.