Chapter 27

Evie

Garden District, New Orleans, Louisiana

E vie woke slowly, unsure where she was but more comfortable than she had ever been in her life. Not only did it feel like she was floating on a cloud, but she was warm, her body tilted on its side with a wall at her back. Wait. Her eyes fluttered open in confusion. A wall at my back? She tensed, suddenly noticing a firm band around her waist as well, and tilted her head slowly towards whatever was holding her.

A soft rumble rose from behind her, and she finally peeked over her shoulder, straining to see in the pre-morning light filtering through the curtains. As her eyes adjusted to the muted light, Cole’s face came into view. Ah. So the wall was Cole, the firm band his bare arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

She should probably wriggle away, put a little distance between them. For the life of her, though, she couldn’t bring herself to do that. Her eyes slid closed as he tightened his grip on her, tugging her further into his body and nuzzling her neck in his sleep. She would only sleep for… just… a… bit… longer…

When Evie woke again, the midday sun was streaming in through the windows. Although she recognized Cole’s bedroom, the man himself was nowhere to be found. The sheets on the other side of the bed were rumpled and pulled back just enough that she could see where his body had rested behind her. She brushed her hand over the imprint of where he had a slept, a small smile lifting her lips. She should probably go find him in the sprawling house, but his bed was too comfortable, and she was so relaxed. After two days of pure adrenaline and emotion, she needed to feel safe. And that’s what she felt here, wrapped in these absurdly soft sheets, surrounded by proof of Cole's existence. Protected.

Even last night, she found herself reaching out to him in the car. She hadn’t missed that little nugget; when she needed comfort, she wanted him. She just wanted to touch him, know that he was there and, for the moment, hers. Potentially a side effect of having shared a good portion of her life with his eyes and voice, but—and she couldn’t quite kid herself after spending hours with him—it was the reality of him too.

Unsettled, she shook her head in an attempt to dislodge the thought. When it refused to leave, restlessness rose inside her that she could feel this strongly about a man she had only known in person for two days—no matter what experiences came before —and she sat up, unsure what she was doing but knowing that she needed to do something other than sit here alone with her thoughts. The silky sheets puddled to her waist as she did so.

From the door, a sharp inhale sounded. “Fuck me.” Evie looked up to see a shirtless Cole resting against the doorframe, holding a cup in his left hand, an awestruck expression on his face as he ogled her bared chest. Holy gods, did he look perfect like that. “I’m regretting the hell out of getting up now.”

Her smile, which had vanished when her thoughts started racing, teased at the corners of her mouth again. “Well, you can still get back in. Nothing’s stopping you.” With him standing feet away from her, all of the fear, the panic she had been feeling seconds before, slipped away like it never existed.

The smirk fell away from his mouth. His face grew serious, and he walked over to her. “Sorry, Angel. We got a few things to talk about before I can feel okay about not letting you out of that bed for the next several days.” Because he couldn’t seem to help himself though, he swooped down and kissed her firmly, nipping at her bottom lip before passing her a spare t-shirt. “I ordered groceries this morning, so the pantry's full again. I’m making us some breakfast. Come on down when you’re ready.”

Evie watched him walk away, turning over the emotions of the last few days. She had been abducted. Found out her mystery man was real. Discovered her life was lie. Kind of run away from home. She winced. In theory, she was now homeless after everything that had happened with the coven, although she imagined Cole would argue that fact. She missed her coven sisters—Sandrine especially—so badly it was like a physical ache. Yet, in spite of all of that, she was still happy, fulfilled in a way she hadn’t felt in years. It seemed likely that at least part of that was due to Cole’s now very real presence in her life.

Shaking out the neatly folded shirt, she pulled it over her head and rose from the bed. Now that she wasn’t distracted either by Cole’s touch or overwhelmed by a need to run, little details in the bedroom stood out to her that she had missed the morning before. Unlike his study, there was very little to distinguish this room as being regularly used, save for the bed. No art on the walls or personal decorations, save two small framed photos leaned against the wall above the fireplace across the room.

She crossed to the fireplace to take a better look at the pictures. In one, Cole was next to a man with light brown hair, curious icy eyes, and a sleepy smile, his arm looped around the other man’s shoulders in a friendly half hug as they stood in front of a tall building covered in glass. Tracing her fingers over Cole’s face, Evie took in the differences between the Cole of today and the one in the photograph—he had fewer laugh lines, and his hair was cut differently, but otherwise there was very little distinguishing him from the man currently cooking her food downstairs.

Her gaze shifted to the other photo, this one a rudimentary charcoal drawing of two teenagers holding hands: one bore thick black hair and green eyes and, she was fairly certain, was supposed to be a young boy, the other was a young girl with curly hair to her waist and wide eyes locked on the boy next to her. She picked up the portrait, looking closely for an autograph. Not seeing one, she cradled the frame to her chest and left the room, carrying the portrait downstairs as she followed the delicious scents making into the kitchen. As she entered, fragrant spices perfumed the air, and the sizzle of whatever was cooking on the stovetop filled the room.

Standing in the middle of it all was Cole. Facing the counter in front of him, he had back towards her, sweatpants slung low on his hips and the fitted white shirt he’d thrown on sometime between when he left her in bed and now showing every shift of his muscles as he went from pan to pan. Almost as if he could feel her, he glanced over his shoulder, grinning widely before his eyes shifted down to the frame in her hands, His smile dimmed slightly.

Evie slid the drawing onto the counter, the young couple in charcoal facing upwards, and lifted her gaze to him. She knew her question was splashed across her face.

Cole shrugged in response, his jaw tense as he responded. “I was a lonely kid. Didn’t have many friends because I couldn’t control my temper, and weird things happened around me that couldn’t be explained. Even the kids who didn’t outright hate me avoided me. I couldn’t figure out why I was different from everybody else. But you. You were there with me in my dreams almost every night, no matter how weird or dangerous or angry I was. You… ” he traced a long finger over the girl’s likeness, his fingertip skimming lightly across the glass. “You were my fucking everything, Angel. In a lot of ways, you saved me long enough for me to actually meet you.” Swiveling briefly towards the stove to check the pan’s contents, he said in a thoughtful voice that didn’t even sound like he knew he was speaking aloud, “But I never could have imagined the reality of you, ma petite sorcière .” His drawl was thicker than it usually was, the Cajun dialect rolling off his tongue as he turned back to her.

Evie couldn’t breathe. This man was overwhelming every single defense she had. His honesty tugged at her heart, and she knew she had to tell him her truth too. “You did the same for me,” she whispered, her voice so low she wasn’t sure he could hear her over the sound of cooking food. “A lot of the time, I couldn't remember much, and what I could was jumbled—” His eyes flashed that neon blue at the mention of her memory reversions, a sign that she now knew meant his magic, emotions, or both were close to the surface. She pushed past the reminder quickly. What she had to say to him now was far more important than the dangerous magic she had been exposed to for years. “But I never forgot you. All those times I couldn’t leave my home because I was sick from the magic they’d poured into me, I saw you. I heard you. You were the only person who talked to me while I was isolated. So I may have been your everything, but you were my whole world, Cole.” A tear traced down her cheek as she remembered the crushing loneliness and fear of lying in her bed, her body shaking as it purged the foreign magic and ancient lives inside of her; all while the jumbled violence and memories and screams that no one else could hear filled her head. “I was so scared that you weren’t real. Nobody else knew you existed—they couldn’t see or hear you. And I could already see things and people that nobody else could… What if you were just another vision?” Her voice trembled, and, through her tears, she saw Cole come into her space.

His arms snaked around her waist, and he pulled her into him. “I can’t say a lot with absolute certainty, but this? This right here? Me, us? I’m real. This is real.” He gripped her chin, tilting her head up to face him. “And, baby, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for as long as you'll let me stay.”

The intensity shining in his eyes practically flayed her alive. She couldn’t keep staring at him, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away either. Cole as a person, not just her visions of him but everything that made him the man in front of her, holding her, was so much more than she could have ever dared dream in her home high among the trees.

He kissed her cheek gently before setting her away from him. “Now go sit down and eat some food. And stop looking at me like you want to eat me alive, or I won’t be held responsible for what happens.” At her pursed lips, he shook his head at her. “Nope, you walking around the house in my clothes is dangerous enough. I’m not strong enough to withstand that look on your face too. Go sit.” He nudged her towards a stool on the other side of the island.

Sashaying around the bar to one of the tall plush chairs nestled underneath the countertop, she made sure to add some extra sway to her hips as she did so. A low groan rolled through the room when the shirt slid up her thighs a bit from the movement; she smothered a smirk, pretending not to hear it. When she finally took a seat, he was shifting uncomfortably, his eyes still locked on where her ass had last been. “What?” she asked innocently.

“You know exactly what, you little tease,” he snipped as he slid a plate loaded with food in front of her. “I had no idea what you forest dwellers ate so I made a little bit of everything.” Although there was a bit of a snicker in his tone as he said it, his face remained completely serious.

Evie tilted her head, observing the plate. There were a number of things she couldn’t identify, something that looked like bread although it was thicker than a normal slice of bread with a custard-like exterior and… berries! Those she recognized. She confidently popped one in her mouth, nearly moaning at the first taste of food she’d had in almost two days. Oops. Looks like she hadn’t suppressed it enough if the pained look on Cole’s face was anything to go by. “Okay. So I’ve never seen some of these foods. What are they?”

His eyes gleamed in amusement while he shoveled food on his own place. “I knew you didn’t have a standard diet! Let me guess. Vegetarian? No. Gotta be vegan.”

She snorted at him. “You’re enjoying this way too much. But I guess you could say we survive on an extremely raw diet. Lots of vegetables, fruits, mushrooms, whatever we can find in the forest.” She picked up the thick piece of bread, wrinkling her nose at the thick feeling of whatever was covering it under her fingers, and took a bite. It was sweet and fluffy, a taste so decadent her mouth started watering. “This is delicious! What is this?”

“It’s pain perdu .” Cole placed a glass filled with what she recognized as syrup in front of her. “Usually people put syrup on it.”

As he finished loading his own plate before taking a seat next to her, Evie drizzled syrup over the pain perdu , taking care not to use too much. Syrup was extremely rare among the coven, so she didn’t want to waste any of it. Instead of using her hands, she cut a small neat bite of it with the fork and knife by her plate. She gasped as she slid the cut piece of syrup-soaked bread into her mouth, the maple flavor complementing the texture of the dough. “That’s amazing. I’ve never tasted anything like it”

“It’s my maman’s recipe,” he said, picking up his fork. “Even though I don’t remember much about her, I know she was an amazing cook. She used to cook for everybody in the neighborhood, just spending all day over her gumbo pot, stirring and cackling like the Cajun witch everybody jokingly accused her of being.” She hummed in amusement at the description. “So when I got my own place, I started teaching myself how to cook so I could make her recipes.”

Evie took another bite of her pain perdu . “How old were you when she died?”

“Four. My dad died not long after, and I went to live with my uncle Charlie. My dad’s brother.” Cole shoveled something that looked like a potato with some sort of meat in it into his mouth. “He’s a good guy. You’ll like him.”

Evie slid her hand across the island, grasping his. “Even if your uncle was amazing, it doesn’t make losing your parents any less painful.”

Cole smiled, a wry twist to his mouth, before he picked up their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of hers. “Thanks, Angel. It was a long time ago, though.” Loading his fork up with his free hand, the fingers of their other one still entwined, he lifted the food to his mouth then paused. “Do you eat meat?”

Head reeling from the sudden turn, Evie barely followed the conversational leap enough to respond. Once she caught up, she barely stifled a giggle. Sitting across from the man who had haunted her for most of her life, and he was asking about her eating habits. “Um, yeah, of course we do. But we’re careful to only take the lives given to us.”

“Um.” His eyebrows shot into his hairline “‘Given to us.' What in the sweet name of Pet Sematary does that even mean?”

She crinkled her nose at him in confusion at the reference but ignored it in favor of an answer. “Well, we have witches who can commune with animals and talk to them all the time. Animals that are older or dying will give us their bodies in exchange for a painless death.”

“Who grants them a painless death?” He looked intrigued but his eyes narrowed when she started fidgeting. The silence grew thicker, more potent, as she stayed silent, and Cole’s gaze grew more intense with each passing second. The sharp clatter of the fork against his plate broke the tense silence. “Angel, who in the coven was responsible for giving these animals the painless death they sought?” At her whispered, “me,” his lips tilted down in a scowl, and he stood quickly, his chair legs scraping against the floor. “Come with me,” he ordered, extending his hand to her.

Without a second thought, she took his offered hand and followed him up the back stairs. Little had changed since her illicit snooping the day before, but having Cole in the house with her sucked all of the air out of a room, particularly since he was fuming, practically radiating fury, although at what or whom she couldn’t guess.