Chapter 27

No dream could come close to the giddy, mind-melting pleasure of Julian's tongue between her thighs. Wonderful, warm sensations rolled over her in waves, one crashing over the next, tossing her higher and higher.

She was so close, and she didn't know what demon possessed her to pant, "Stop. I want to…with you," she bit out. "I want you inside when I come."

His head snapped up, and he rose up, lips glistening. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," she said, sliding back to watch him undress. Her world had turned upside down, and she no longer had a firm grasp on reality. Perhaps all of this was an elaborate masquerade, and perhaps she was doomed to die in the next week. Perhaps it was all a dream.

And since she could no longer be certain of anything, she trusted what was in front of her, what was pounding in her chest, pulsing between her legs, screaming his name.

She wanted Julian Alcott. She wanted him to fuck her into oblivion. She wanted to do nothing but feel for once, to experience nothing but pleasure. And she wanted him to feel it too; she didn't want to be a weapon or a tool. She wanted to give him something that wasn't pain or suffering.

He shucked off his pants, revealing those broad, powerful legs. That body was a warrior's body, somehow incongruent with his tailored suits and sharp colors. He looked ancient somehow; not in his face, which was as smooth as a man of thirty-five if even that. But he reminded her of something old, sculpted by time, something that was unmoved by the forces moving against it, but rather a testament to his own strength. He was a marvel to look at, and she knew she would never find another man pleasing after seeing him.

His body slid along hers, so warm and solid, and she shivered when his hips rested against hers, his cock sliding against the slick flesh between her legs. "Are you ready?"

She nodded. "I think so," she said. As he eased up, she caught his arm. "I don't want to get pregnant. Do we need?—"

He laughed, cupping her cheek gently. "Not a concern for vampires. We can't," he said.

She nodded, heart thumping as he guided himself down to her. Fingers grazing over her skin sent shivers dancing up her spine, and she was nearly stunned by the realization that she had become so comfortable with him touching her this way, when just weeks ago she'd planned to kill him.

Slowly, he eased in, and she tensed. His big hand slid over her belly, up her thigh in a gentle caress.

"Just breathe. We'll go slow," he said. His eyebrows arched in a silent question, and she nodded, inhaling sharply as he slid into her, achingly unhurried. Her body tensed, and fear crept up in her mind as a burning pain ignited in her core.

She gasped, more in surprise, but he froze. "Did I hurt you?"

"I just need a second," she breathed, shifting her hips beneath him. "I've just never felt this before."

He lowered himself to kiss her neck, then teased across her lips. "Just tell me when you're ready." It seemed as if a light had ignited behind those lovely green eyes, wide and concerned. And he was smiling, his expression so soft and vulnerable. It was the way she had seen him in her dreams, when things were easy and gentle.

Her mind threatened to gallop away from her, thoughts racing. What if I die what if he hurts me what if this is all pointless what if?—

Deep breath. She traced the curve of his cheek, savoring the way he smiled, that stubbled plane fitting into her cupped hand. Mine, she thought, as he lowered his head to kiss her again, soft and tender.

Could this be hers? Not just the man, but the affection and the devotion? The family that surrounded him in a tangled, messy web of love and loyalty? She'd never dreamed of such a thing, and she wanted it, more than anything she'd ever wanted.

The pain had eased, and she was hungry for him. She gently pushed against his chest and said,"I'm ready."

Ever so slowly and painstakingly gentle, he eased in. Her mind grew flooded with sensation, her nerves alight with the strange new experience. He met her gaze. "Okay?"

"Yeah," she breathed, claiming his mouth in a kiss. Slowly, he pulled back, then thrust into her slowly. The friction sent a shiver of heat through her, and she lifted her hips to meet him. "Oh, God," she blurted. "Oh."

"That's it," he said softly. He shifted, and suddenly his fingers moved to her clit, stroking expertly as he thrust into her. "I have a rule. You come first."

"I'm not…I'm not complaining," she bit out, hips surging toward him. As she gazed up at him, some distant part of her thought, Are you really doing this? Are you fucking the vampire?

But now, that part of her felt foreign and strange. She stared up at him, and despite the unfamiliar—if delightful—sensation of him inside her, she felt as if she had been here before. Her dreams slammed into her fantasies and crashed into reality, and she felt as if she was curled up in front of a fire with the man she'd loved for years.She was finally in the one place that made sense.

He didn't speak, but she heard his voice. I love you. You, Scarlett Ward.

He didn't say it, but she heard this too: Not her. I love you for who you are.

Her eyes stung, and she held him tight, driving her hips up to him as the pleasure wound tighter and tighter. The pressure grew, demanding a release, and when he sealed his lips to hers, she inhaled sharply and crested, her body tensing. She clenched around him, that girth filling the void between her thighs, and she let out a cry of pleasure, back arching, rising up.

And he did not stop, did not relent. With a low, dark chuckle, he said, "That's it. That's my girl. Ride it out, love." And he drove into her still, drawing out the pleasure, which did not stop with that crystalline moment like before, but stretched out until her chest ached, until she remembered that she had to breathe.

And still, he did not stop. When her legs trembled out of her control, he sat back, hiked her thighs up around his waist, and said, "I've got you. I promise."

I promise.

It was not the promise I'll save you, not the one she wanted. But somehow, it was better. It was real. His promise was I will never give up on you. I am here and I am real. I am yours and only yours.

She reached for him, left hand to his heart, and something shot through her like lightning. The world went white, her ears filled with the sound of cathedral bells. And as the pleasure swept through her, a storm of memory followed.

She saw him weeping over her. Saw him smiling from across a crowd. Saw him screaming at the sky with blood on his hands. Saw him at the end of a long aisle with a smile on his face. Saw him raising a glass with his brothers. Saw him rising from the bath. Saw him falling to his knees as he offered his life. Saw him begging her to stay as the world faded away.

The room spun, and she was still trying to make sense of it when he let out a clipped cry, hips jerking as he climaxed. She held him tight, fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders.

Don't go.

She felt as if the world would break if he moved. He slowly lifted his head, kissed her brow, then looked down at her, his gaze tender. "Are you all right?"

Her voice trembled. "I remember things," she said. His expression shifted. "I remember you. From before. I don't know how."

His eyes widened, and he started to withdraw, but she grabbed his shoulders.

"Stay. I need you close right now," she said.

He nodded, stroking her cheek gently. "What do you remember?"

"You smiling. And…not smiling. I see you broken. It must have been when I— when she died," she said, heart pounding. Then she raised her hand to toy with a loose curl of his hair. "I know you. Some part of me knows you completely."

He caught her wrist, kissing the underside lightly. The faint suction against her wrist made her heart thump, the tiniest thread of fear twisting through her. His eyes lifted to her, and he smiled.

"Are you debating whether to bite me?" she asked.

At that, he laughed, released her wrist, then leaned in to kiss her throat."I never bit you before. You used to offer, but it's not the same." His head lifted, and his eyes were solemn. "I like feeling your pulse. I feel connected to you."

There were volumes in what he did not say. Instead of questioning, she took his hand and placed it over her breast, above her pounding heart. His eyes found hers, and then he closed his eyes as if he'd been struck.

Her brow furrowed. "Did you do this with anyone since we were together before?" Then her cheeks heated. "I'm sorry. That's none of my business, I was just?—"

"No," he said calmly. "I swore myself to you. To Brigitte. And I meant it."

"You must have been so lonely," she said.

He nodded and averted his gaze. With a shift of that powerful upper body, he slid out of her, leaving her pleasantly achy. But instead of abandoning her, he slid into bed and wrapped his arms around her. Her left hand went to his heart, but he took it instead, toying lightly with her ring finger as if he was twisting a ring.

"Do you feel something?" he asked.

She nodded. "I felt it before."

"That's our bond," he said. "Shoshanna talks about it all the time."

When his strong fingers pressed her knuckle, she felt a jolt of sensation through her arm, and another flood of memories washed over her. Lying under a heavy quilt, snuggled up to a man who looked like Julian before the world had laid its burdens on his shoulders, walking her fingers over his broad chest. Reddish-stained wooden rafters vaulted above them, their cherry surface dancing with firelight that staved off winter's chill.

And right on its heels, she felt the icy bite of a blade in her heart, a wet sensation crawling up her throat as she bled out. staring at the narrow bars of an alley, hearing his voice as she faded away.

She gasped and pulled her hand from his. He startled. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. I just see things when we're touching that way," she said.

He started to pull away. "Should I give you space?"

She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him back, prompting a little laugh. "I didn't say that. Maybe we just avoid pulling on the red thread that supposedly binds us together across time and space and what, seven reincarnations?"

He laughed. "You're awfully upbeat about all this."

"I can either laugh or have an existential meltdown, and I did the second one already," she said drily.

He shifted onto his side, stroking her hair gently. His eyes were still red, but she liked the warmth and vibrancy there; it made her think of the rich red of a ripe apple, of a glowing ruby. Something precious and alive, not death and destruction.

The sex was wonderful, but she was quite enjoying being close to him. Simply being touched and treasured… She could barely remember the last time she'd been touched, other than Armina patching up her cuts and bruises from hunting.

His lips curved in a smile, though he still looked sad, as he always did. Her memories held that lovely image of him truly happy, without the weight of the world dimming his light.

Her throat tightened as the echoes of those memories rang out. His heart was heavy because he had lost his lover.

In some way that defied all logic and reason, he had lost her.

Before she could speak and say something foolish, he cupped her cheek. "Sometimes I wish I was just a normal, human man. Without all this trouble to drop at your feet."

She smiled, and he stroked her cheek as it curved into his grasp, as if he was shaped just for her. "And when were you born?"

"Sixteen o'five, I believe," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "So you'd have lived and died long before Brigitte was born."

He leaned in to kiss her brow. "Well, given that we're talking about something that is impossible, it follows the rules of a fantasy. Meaning I'd have met you, charmed you, and ravished you in a hay bale that smelled of horses and mildew."

She threw her head back and laughed. "That's terribly romantic."

"Isn't it? We'd have had horrific teeth," he said drily. Then his smile faded, though its ghost lingered on his lips. "Are you all right? All of this must be overwhelming."

Her heart kicked in her chest. "Well, at least if I die, I've checked this off my list."

His face fell. "Please don't joke about it," he said.

She shook her head. "I told you, my choices are to laugh or to start screaming and never stop."

"Those are your only choices?" he asked, sliding one hand over her hip. "Are you certain?"

A thrill of pleasure ran through her. "Perhaps you have a suggestion to occupy my mind?"

"I have an idea," he said, grabbing her hips and situating her atop him. "You focus on me for a while."

Strange dreams plaguedScarlett's sleep. When she woke, she was not certain if the images that had kaleidoscoped through her mind were memories, premonitions, or the nonsense her mind spit out after days of stress and turmoil.

Julian was fast asleep, lying on his side with one hand grazing her waist. A contorted reach for her phone showed it was nine in the morning, well after sunrise. She hesitated, then stroked his cheek.

It was difficult to wrap her brain around the fact that she'd wanted nothing more than this man's head on a platter for ten years, and now she wanted only to protect him from further suffering. A man who had given up everything to hold onto the tiniest hope of saving her… He deserved that.

She kissed his brow, then slid out of bed. A wave of dizziness swept over her as she went vertical, and she was struck with the thought, I'm a sitting duck.

Her heart thumped as she looked around, as if Mina would spring from the closet. Creeping across the room, she peered through the UV-film covered window. Just a view of the sprawling land behind the pretty house.

How would it happen? Would she see it coming? What if Mina could throw a blood clot into her veins, and she just dropped dead? Or a brain-eating parasite or a heart attack or?—

"Stop," she said, her voice ringing out louder than she realized. With a guilty start, she glanced back at Julian, who still slept, a faint smile on his face.

She'd had her meltdown last night, and the grim reality was that she had no control over Armina Voss or her magic. Unless…

She grabbed her phone and crept into the guest bathroom. With her heart pounding, she dialed Mina's number. This was a new phone courtesy of the Durendal vampires, but she'd memorized her aunt's and Lux's numbers long ago. In case she was ever hunting and got in trouble, it was good to have. Hell, the first time she'd met Kristina Arensberg, she'd left behind her bag in her hurry to get out, then used a cheap burner from a drugstore to call her aunt.

Her fingers trembled as she dialed the number. She wouldn't answer. Not to a strange?—

"Hello?" The other woman's voice was raspy, as if she'd been shouting. Quiet for a moment. "Scarlett?"

Her heart crawled into her throat. "Armina."

"Where are you? Are you safe?"

"Drop the act," Scarlett said. "I know what you intend for me. I'm calling you to ask you to stop it. I know you cared about me once. Please prove it. Leave me alone, and leave Shoshanna York alone."

Mina was quiet, then let out a soft laugh. "So, you threw in your lot with the vampires, and now it's not working out? You steal my work, destroy my things, and now you want to ask me to help you?"

Her voice was not cold; it was oddly normal, almost conversational. She sounded amused.

"Tante Mina, please. I'm asking you not to let me die," Scarlett said, her throat clenching. "I'll convince them to leave you alone."

Her aunt let out a mocking laugh. "Tante Mina," she said in a syrupy-sweet voice. "Funny how you want to pull that thread when things aren't going your way. Save your breath and your weak attempts at persuasion. Let them all come. Let them all regret the day they took him from me."

"This has gone on long enough," Scarlett said. "You shouldn't?—"

"Save your breath, my love," Mina said. "You chose a path. Hang your hopes on Kova and Dominic and all the other bastards surrounding Julian. When the smoke clears, I will still be here, as I always have. And they will stare at their bloody hands and wish they had never met you."

"Tante Mina?—"

The dull beep broke through her disbelief as she watched Call Ended flash across her screen. Her chest heaved as anxiety swept in.

I'm going to die.

Her breathing accelerated until she was gasping for air, barely holding back sobs. Twenty-eight years of lies, and not one shred of concern for her. The woman she thought of as family, the closest to a mother she'd ever known, was going to let her die a bloody death.

Wanted her to.

The door swung open, and Scarlett scrambled to her feet, hands up in a defensive position. Shoshanna stood in the doorway, brow furrowed in concern. "Are you okay? I heard you crying." Then her face fell. "Sweetie, are you?—"

Scarlett put up her hands to fend off the witch's approach. "I need a minute. If I fall apart, I'm never going to get back together, and you have work to do. Just give me a minute. I promise I'll be okay."

Swallowing hard, Shoshanna nodded and backed out of the room, gently closing the door behind her. Scarlett gripped the edge of the sink and stared into her own puffy eyes. With each pounding thump, there were flashes of visions, of sorrow and despair, Julian's face a mask of grief, then a smile, then fury.

And there was her aunt—no, the woman who had lied to her for her whole life—smiling at her proudly at her graduation, cleaning her scraped knees, watching as she wrestled Kova to the ground for the first time and proved she could handle a vampire. There were countless mornings of breakfast shared, of long conversations about what had happened to Scarlett's mother, the true nature of the world and what they could do about it.

And none of it mattered anymore. The good was poisoned by the wicked lies.

She sucked in a breath, closed her eyes, and willed herself to calm down. Just as she forced her lungs to cooperate when she ran through the woods with Kova on her heels, she wrangled her wild emotions. Her chest ached, but still she held her breath, as if to coerce her mind into obedience.

The smell of coffee pricked at her senses, and she finally released her breath in a controlled sigh. Slowly, she washed her face, tamed her hair into a low braid, and dabbed on a moisturizer that cooled her skin. She still looked like hell, but she refused to let that dam break again.

We have work to do.

Downstairs, Shoshanna was puttering around the kitchen. Her breath hitched as she whirled to see Scarlett."God, you're quiet," she said.

"Sorry," Scarlett said sheepishly.

Shoshanna peered at the coffeemaker, then took down two cups from the cabinet. "You want some?"

"Yes, please," Scarlett said.

After the cups were poured, Shoshanna set out creamer and sugar, carefully mixing hers to a light brown. Scarlett dashed a sweet-smelling creamer into the coffee and sipped it tentatively.

Finally, Shoshanna raised her brows. "What's going on? Did I shake something loose with the magic?"

She shook her head. "It's not you. I just…" She sighed. "It hit me that this is real. And I was stupid. I called Armina to ask her to just let it go. To leave us alone."

"You talked to her?" Shoshanna said breathlessly.

"Yeah. And she basically told me to go fuck myself," Scarlett said, staving off another hitching cry with a drink of her coffee. The scalding liquid grounded her, distracting her from the turmoil in her mind. "And for the first time, there's nothing I can do to protect myself. I'm scared, but if I keep talking about it, I'm going to fall apart. And then I'm no good to anyone."

Shoshanna pressed a hand to hers, startling her with the warmth of her skin. It wasn't just heat; there was a subtle current under the woman's skin, as if the magic was surging beneath the surface. "You don't have to be tough all the time, but I understand why you are, so let's make a deal. I'm not going to keep fussing over you, so I can put all my energy into breaking this damn curse. But you promise to tell me the truth about how you're feeling when I work. I can't focus on my magic if I can't trust you to tell me if something's wrong. Something that hurts you can hurt me, too. And then I'm no good to you or anyone else."

"Agreed," Scarlett said, sparing a smile. "I appreciate that. Should we get started?"

"Let me have a look at you," Shoshanna said.

But as she reached out, Scarlett stepped back slightly. "Aren't you supposed to take precautions? Potions and grounding and all that stuff you did yesterday?"

Despite being turned down, Shoshanna chuckled. "Well, you're certainly part of the family now if you're telling me how to conduct my business," she said wryly. "Give me a couple of hours and we'll get started."