Chapter 12

Cole

New Orleans, Louisiana

C ole’s thoughts were absolute chaos. He had no real memory of the walk back to his car and didn’t remember dropping Evie into his car or even starting the drive back to his home. His mind was simply cycling between panic at the idea that his Angel had tried to get away from him and an intense need to make sure she never left his side again.

They were halfway back to New Orleans before his vision cleared of blue flame. It happened so suddenly that he was disoriented, his rational mind racing to catch up. He couldn’t have said with certainty where they were even after having driven this route only two hours before. Two utterly life-changing hours.

Last thing he remembered, he had the fiery little witch in his arms, his lips on hers, the world shaking around them. He had begged her to come home with him. A little voice in the back of his brain corrected him: Less begged. More ordered. After that, he remembered exactly nothing. It had been a long time since his death magic, unstable in his human body until the prophecy was fulfilled, had overtaken him. In fact… he didn’t think he had ever lost control like that. He couldn't recall actually losing consciousness in a magically induced blackout before.

At that thought, he glanced over at the passenger seat where an exquisite ball of rage sat glaring at him. Apparently, in his power-induced dissociation, he had the good sense to bind Evie and place wards over key pressure points to keep her from using her own magic against him. Smart , he thought, flinching slightly as her furious eyes bored into his own. Thank the gods for his car’s self-driving function and the empty roads; he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.

She was absolutely exquisite in her rage. Her intense grey eyes flickered molten gold at the power thrumming under her skin. The wards he had place flared shimmers of light around them like fireworks as she tried to break free of his magic. Her tattoo— was that a… snake in a field of flowers? he mused—positively writhed along her arm in a way that was definitely mystical, and her disheveled curls floated around her, courtesy of the wind her intense magic was raising in the car. It was unnerving as hell.

Cole had never seen anything so perfect in his human life.

“You know the wards I placed don’t stop you from speaking, right? You’re able to talk.” He forced his attention back to the road, trying to play it cool. Like he didn’t want to swivel back to her and just watch her, safety be damned.

Even not looking at her, he could see her sneer. “Oh, I’m allowed to talk? How very gracious of you,” she hissed. “You going to listen to me this time if I do speak? Or just throw me over your shoulder and steal me from my fucking home again?”

Was that what he had done? Fuck. While he didn’t have a ton of sustained, nonsexual experience with women, he knew that abducting them wasn’t the way to their heart… although it had worked beautifully for his ancestor. Probably not a great role model, even though he had inherited that particular ancestor’s magic, memories, and throne. He scraped a hand over the now-long-past-5:00 stubble on his face. He should apologize. Right? He opened his mouth, but the vengeful little hellcat was still going.

“How fucking dare you?” Her voice rose slightly. Beside him, the wards on her luminous skin almost blinded him as her magic tried desperately to find a weak link to attack him. Gods, she was strong. “Who do you think you are ? We’ve never interfered with humans, not once, never endangered your kind. You took me from my home without any reason! You touched what you had absolutely no right to lay a hand on. This is an act of war against the witches and trust me when I say: you won’t win that one, you absolute dumbass.”

His lips curled into a feral grin. “Oh, Angel, you didn’t seem to mind me touching you back there.” Her jaw dropped in shock—or rage, who knew with the witch beside him—her full lips parting, and fuck him if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he had seen in a long time. “In fact, you seemed perfectly thrilled when I did finally touch you.” Why are you baiting her? “In fact, you begged me for more. So don’t try to make out like I forced myself on you, little witch. You loved every single fucking second of being in my arms, and, if we’d had a few more seconds before that earthquake, I would have been able to feel just how wet you were for me. And, to one of your other points because the rest were bullshit, I took you with me because you’re mine.” He felt the growl, the overwhelming emphasis, he put on that last word, but he couldn’t control it. “We stay together. There’s no ‘war’ upon the witches, nothing except me keeping you safe and with me.”

She shivered at his words, eyes drifting out of focus a bit as she mouthed the word, “mine” as if she couldn’t believe that had just come out of his mouth. Honestly, he couldn’t believe he had said it to her, but now that it was out and her face was lit with desire, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He could work with lust, get this perfect angel completely addicted to what he could give her. He needed her to crave him, to desire them. To want to stay. They would be ruling together for eternity, and there was no backing out once they had sealed their bond and accepted their role as king and queen of the underworld. He needed her to choose to take that step with him in spite of what he was sure was a full life with her coven.

“That earthquake was weird though, right?” It just slipped from his lips. He wanted to talk to her, hear her melodic voice when it wasn’t filled with rage.

Evie looked at him like he was crazy. Hell, maybe he was—she was magically bound in his front seat after he took her from her home. After a few moments of silence, though, she shocked the hell out of him by answering in a calm voice. “I don’t know what it was. I thought you were shaking at first. I’ve gone through a few earthquakes before, but none of them ever felt like that.” She shrugged. “It felt like something below us was… waking up.” After catching sight of his questioning glance, she backtracked. “I don’t know. It just felt like it was coming from the depths of the earth, so much deeper than anything I’ve ever felt.”

Well, that certainly spawned a thought. What if the earthquake was the underworld awakening to welcome its deities home? A nice little confirmation from their realm that Evie was his queen? After feeling the world shake around him when he saw her, figuratively at first followed by a very extreme literally, he didn’t really give a shit whether she actually was the reincarnate the Moirai had prophesied; she was his regardless, and he would force a square peg into a round hole just to keep her if she wasn’t. He winced. So much more like his ancestor than he ever anticipated. Fucking yikes.

Sinking into his thoughts, Cole barely noticed the scenery around them shifting from the more rural areas surrounding her forest home to the bright city skyline. Having been born and raised in New Orleans—one of the rare few to claim that title—he thought it was the most incredible city in the world. That was doubly true at night when the sky positively glowed with the brightly colored lights of the city. When he was a child, Charles told him that the astronauts could see New Orleans from the space. His seven-year-old self absorbed that tidbit as absolute gospel rather than recognizing it as a desperate uncle trying to console his young nephew after the unexpected death of both of his parents. And even though 35-year-old Cole, a—mostly—rational man who had founded a well-respected, internationally recognized law firm and owned a historic home in the sought-after Garden District, was fairly certain that factoid was false, a little part of him still wanted to believe it. There was nothing more magnificent than this city.

Except the witch sitting next to him. Her big eyes took in everything as they exited the freeway, their grey shade reflecting the hue of every light they passed. Although it would be faster to go down any other street, he found himself driving leisurely down St. Charles, wanting to see her react to the sights.

Traffic was at a standstill, even at almost 4:30 am, so he took the chance to stare unashamedly at her as she discovered New Orleans, swiveling back and forth to look out of every window in the car. The bright lights illuminating the many hotels along the roadway painted her face, bathing her features in the neon colors and intense lights of the city. To their right, the historic Pontchartrain Hotel rose majestically; she gaped through the car's clear roof at the old-fashioned building. He could tell by her excited squint and small bounce in her seat that she loved the vibrant neon lights of the bars and restaurants. Watched her pretty, little mouth purse into a moue of disapproval at the deadened grass in the median by the streetcar.

And he couldn’t get enough of her sounds. She chuckled at a group of women swaying with all the drunken swagger of Captain Jack Sparrow, gasped in excitement at the streetcar rattling alongside them, cooed over a squashed-face French bulldog leading its owner down the street. Each sound she made just forced him to realize, for the umpteenth time this evening, that he was in so far over his head with her. He had never had all that much interest in a specific woman, much less this intense, all-encompassing response, before. They had only kissed, for fuck’s sake, and his dick thought that any noise of excitement she made was for it alone.

As they made their way further down St. Charles, the hotels and bars slowly transitioned into apartments and condos with the odd fast-food restaurant to break things up. Cole wasn’t sure what her living situation in the preserve had been, but he would bet that it was distinctly different from the old-money homes and more modern rental living currently surrounding the car.

Slowly, she turned her head towards him, making eye contact with him for the first time since entering the city. “What are all of these places?” she asked quietly. “I know what the words mean, but I’ve not seen them used in some of these ways before.”

Cole tilted his head. It must have been hellish for her to admit she didn’t know something. In the two hours since they had met, he had been aroused, furious, possessive—not that he wanted to think too much about that one—and confused; most of all, he had been impressed. If he had thought about it before meeting Evie, he probably would have guessed that a forest witch would be overwhelmed, scared even, at being… removed—his brain still shied away from the word “abducted” to describe what he had done—from her home and brought into a bustling city. But she wasn’t.

At no point did she even appear to be slightly scared. Of him or of anything else surrounding them. She had seemed livid , amused, turned on as fuck, but, even as the hits kept coming, she took them in stride. For her to break her silence and admit she didn’t know something, despite what seemed like an overwhelming and fiery intelligence, it must have taken a shit ton of backbone. “They’re apartments,” he responded before adding, “where people live,” just in case she didn’t know.

She eyed him frostily. “I know what an apartment is. Just in case you didn’t notice, I’m not actually stupid.”

He chuckled. God, she was a smart-ass. Exactly his type, if he was being honest. “I don’t know what the schooling system in a forest looks like. You could be illiterate for all I know.” Even though he’d seen her reading the signs by the road, the road names, hell, even the information on the car's touch screen. Why the fuck are you baiting her, you moron? he berated himself for the second time that night.

Her back stiffened instantly, and the wards went practically supernova from the massive influx of power that rippled from her skin at his words. “Excuse you?” she snapped. “You think I’m illiterate? I would wager that our education is a touch better than your human schooling. Especially given that our education is free from the political whims of hateful and bigoted humans, thank you very fucking much.”

She raised a good point about the impact of politics upon schooling—and he wanted to unpack that with her later and see even more of how her brain worked—but he had to address the elephant in the room. His humanity. He knew she wasn’t ready for the whole truth—he was barely ready for the whole truth of their relationship, and he had been aware of it for a lot longer —but she needed to be made aware of who he was. “That’s the second time you’ve called me human, Evie. Do it again, and my feelings might get hurt.”

“Are you not? Human, then?” She extended her hand to touch him, possibly read him, even though he didn’t know if she possessed that ability, but the wards forced her hand away. “I know that there are humans who can use magic, so I just assumed you were one.” At his slight head shake, she became more lively, her eyes sparkling in excitement, the fury of earlier forgotten in the face of new knowledge. “I’ve read stories of magical beings who appear human living in the human world. Are you one of them? What are you? Am I allowed to ask that? Feels like I shouldn’t, but I really want to know!” She was all but bouncing in her seat as she fired questions at him.

What could he tell her that wouldn’t be too much? The Moirai and Charles had never covered how to tell his fated wife that she was, in fact, his fated wife. No, they just babbled about duty and honor and ancient texts. Honestly, he had tuned most of it out after a while. Now that he had Evie in his car, he was regretting never asking them about what to do when he actually found the reincarnate.

He toggled the signal to turn left onto Seventh Street, waiting for traffic to slow enough to turn. During that time, he thought his way through a response, finally saying, “I’m the reincarnate of the god Hades.” That felt like a concise way to address her question, but, even as he complimented himself on sidestepping the potential implications, she dug into what could only be charitably described as a cross-examination. Having conducted a few of them himself, he knew what to look for.

“I’m sorry… you’re the reincarnation of a god? Don’t think too highly of yourself at all, do you? What, did you get the keys to the kingdom along with it? All the powers, too, I’m assuming… ” She trailed off as he pulled on to his street.

Cole knew, without a doubt, that it wasn’t the astonishingly over-the-top homes surrounding his comparably modest 1860s Greek revival home that caught her attention. He knew it the same way that he knew he drew his magic from death. That he would commit murder before letting the wide-eyed little witchling sitting next to him out of his grasp. That they were responsible for reviving the Underworld and saving the human world. He knew wholeheartedly that it was the cemetery sitting directly across from his house—Lafeyette No. 1 to be precise—and the death that wafted from it that was causing the wards to thrum against her skin. Power filled the car, and, for the first time that night, her eyes took on a deep, neon blue hue rather than their usual violet-flecked grey or the molten gold that characterized her magic. He sucked in a breath. He knew that color, saw it every time he himself drew on death or the grave to spell cast. Only death magic cast that hyper-pigmented blue.

Interesting . His Angel drew power from death, as well. Not unexpected, especially if she was actually his Persephone, but a happy confirmation that her own magic wouldn’t be impacted when—if, he corrected himself, knowing she had a choice, no matter how much he hated that fact—they descended to the Underworld.

As he guided the car into the driveway leading to the behind-house parking that had been a major draw, he noticed her chest rising and falling rapidly. Irregularly. He clocked a quick peek at her face. Pupils dilated, eyes soft and unfocused. Goosebumps raised along the pale flesh of her shoulders. Under her thin-as-fuck dress, which he’d tried to ignore since they had gotten in the car, her nipples were raised. Just like at the construction site, the sharp sting of magic surrounded them, arousing in its intensity. She was needy as hell. Desperate for something that he would kill to give her. He nearly groaned at the sight. But she wasn’t ready for him. He had abducted her from her home less than two hours before. It would be better for them both if they just. Got. Out. Of. The. Damn. Car.

But he couldn’t seem to make his legs move or his hand push the button to open the car door. Instead, he reached toward her, sweeping her curls back over her delicate ear. “Angel,” he murmured. “I need you to chill. I don’t think either one of us wants our first time together to be in a car.”

Her gaze caught on his, sending shivers down his spine. That unearthly blue… he was losing his fucking mind seeing her draw upon the very source that fueled his own magic. “Angel.” A warning note in his voice this time. He drew her closer, unable to stop himself. “Evie, I need you to get out of the car right now.”

Voice throaty, she murmured, “I don’t think I can. I’m not sure I can even move.”

His final thread of control snapped.

With a savage curse, he pulled her across the console into his lap, loosing every ward controlling her magic. The car flooded with the rich scent of her power as he took her lips aggressively, nibbling, biting, before soothing away the sting with slow licks. He groaned when she opened to him, meeting his tongue with hers.

She straddled his hips, grinding down over his dick. Gods, she felt so good already, but he needed more. So much more. He needed to touch the silken skin of her thighs, lick her sweet nipples, get absolutely lost in her perfect pussy… with his tongue, his fingers, his cock. He didn’t particularly care which part of him was inside her, just so long as he was bringing her pleasure. She moaned deeply when he traced his fingers over her, only now realizing that apparently women who lived in the forest didn't wear underwear.

Fucking hell, that was hot. “Dirty little witch,” he growled into her ear, biting down gently on the lobe. “If I’d known you were bare under there, I would have pulled over sooner, so I could find out exactly how good you taste.” His fingers slid over her clit, and she moaned, a low tortured sound that went straight to his dick. “Fuck, Angel, you’re drenched for me.”

She tunneled her hands into his hair, dragged his head back to center so she could look into his eyes. “Cole, please, I need this. I need you. Right now.”

Their lips met again violently, messily this time. He wanted to eat her alive, lick her until she came, and then drape her toned legs over his arms and fuck her until morning. Tomorrow morning, preferably, since the sun was close to coming up on today. He would cancel every single fucking meeting he had, sell his whole goddamned firm, if it meant that he could stay inside her all fucking day.

Just as Cole was about to throw her into the backseat and eat her out until she screamed his name so loud she woke the neighbors, he heard a slamming sound.

His witch didn’t even react. He knew he needed to respond to the unexpected noise, make sure they were—she was—safe, but she was writhing over him, bearing down on him so hard that he could feel her soaking wet core dampening his jeans. Fuck, she was perfect. I can’t leave her like this , he thought, working one finger into her pussy. She was dripping for him, and it wasn’t long before he worked a second finger in alongside the first, crooking them so he hit the sensitive nerves along her interior wall with the pads of his fingers while his palm worked her rigid clit.

Her moans were coming closer together, and all he could smell, see, and hear was her. She was everything. A threat could walk right up to the car, fully charged and ready to magically torch them, and there was a 99% chance that Cole wouldn’t notice until the spell had been cast.

Her back was arching, and he could feel little tremors starting to pulse along his fingers. Gods, she was going to absolutely annihilate him when he actually got inside of her, could feel her tightening around his cock. “C’mon, I know you need to come, mon bel ange, je sais que tu le veux. ” She had him turned upside down, lapsing into the French he had learned before he could even speak English.

She was moaning his name—and didn’t that just make him want to rip his jeans off and sink into her, car or no—her entire body tensing just as he heard somebody say, “Hey, Cole, buddy, everything okay?”

She let out a sharp scream, her body writhing, beautiful as she came on his fingers, chanting his fucking name like a goddamn prayer. He turned to bare his teeth at the voice that dared get anywhere near his Angel while she came apart for him. He would rip them a-fucking-part with his bare hands, but only after he licked her taste off his fingers.

And around them, for the second time that night, the world shook once more.