Darklove

  I’m not too sure how long I can wait to find out if he wants me, too.

  Or just wants to kill me.

  Preacher decides he’s happy with my recovery but wants me and Noah to remain on Da Island a few more days. A thought suddenly comes to me, and I pull from my grandfather’s arms and look at him.

  “Are his eyes still red?”

  Preacher gives a short nod. “They are, yeah.” He shakes his head. “Dere’s somethin’ missin’, dat’s right. But I don’t know what it is yet.” He kisses my nose. “We’ll figger it out, girl. Don’t worry. He’s progressin’ good enough, I reckon.”

  After hugs and kisses and tears, everyone leaves me and Noah alone. Seth accompanies Estelle back to Da Plat Eye, where she and Preacher live in the shop’s upstairs apartment. Preacher and Phin head back to Eli.

  Eli’s eyes are still red. And everyone expects me to just sit . . . and wait?

  I am Strogoi. I am Dupré. And I am a Fallen.

  I can do more than just kick a little ass now.

  “I do not like that look in your eye.”

  Slowly, as I hear the purr of Preacher’s boat fade in the distance, I smile at Noah.

  He does not smile back.

  “Riley,” he warns. “Whatever it is you’re cookin’ in that pretty little head of yours, stop.”

  I take a step toward him. “Or what?”

  His hand eases up, reaches down his shirt, and grasps his satchel of herbs. “Don’t make me throw this in the water.”

  Slowly, I shake my head. “Are you seriously using your sex appeal against me, Noah Miles?” He grins. “Tsk-tsk, you crazy vampire.” Take your sexy backside and go sit in the lean-to. Now.

  Without hesitation, Noah drops his hand from his satchel, turns, and walks into the lean-to. He plops down on the pile of stacked quilts.

  And simply sits.

  Dusk has taken over the sky, throwing swirls and lines of purple and gray and burnt orange in a canopy overhead. I listen closely to Preacher’s boat motor, and gauge the direction. A quick glance at my beach attire—cutoff jeans and a fuchsia Inksomnia T-shirt—and I decide that will do just fine in the chilly winter waters of the Atlantic. I turn my gaze to the end of Da Island, two hundred feet of shoreline and sand, and I launch myself into a full run. Ten feet from the edge I gather my strength and leap, landing thirty feet in a dive. The water rushes over my head, and I kick a few times before surfacing. Taking a deep breath, I turn in the direction of Eli’s island.

  I swim. Fast and hard.

  An old fear rises while I swim, and I laugh it off. Sharks? Hell, I’ll punch one in the nose now, no second thought. Within a few minutes, I see the lights strung in front of a lean-to similar to mine, and Preacher’s boat is just pulling up onto the sand. I stop, wade in the water, and wait for Preacher and Phin to get out. Then Seth and Estelle leave, cutting across the sound toward Savannah.

  I ease toward the other side of the island and climb to shore. Soaking wet, but unaffected by the cold, I creep toward Preacher’s camp. Remaining are Gilles, Preacher, Jake, Gabriel, Garr, and Phin.

  That’s three vampires, two powerful root doctors, and . . . whatever Gabriel is. Plus Eli.

  Seven. Against me.

  Whatever I am.

  I got this.

  Through the maritime scrub forest, I make my way to the opposite shore. When I see Preacher and Garr, standing just outside the lean-to, I stop. Everyone except Eli is outside, by the shore. I close my eyes and concentrate. Pushing my energy until it forms a fiery ball in my center. I will it outward, to my fingertips.

  And then like some crazy half-cocked inked wizard, I point my hands in their direction.

  Everyone take a seat. Do it now.

  To my surprise, every single one of them scrambles to find a seat in the sand by the shore.

  Look nowhere except out to sea. Ignore me. Ignore Eli. Only stare out to sea. And stay in your seat.

  As if on cue, every one of their heads turn toward the water. Since there were only two lawn chairs out, Gilles and Preacher take those. The others plop right down onto the sand. Still as zombies, they stare out.

  I smile to myself and make my way to the lean-to.

  Palm fronds and pine needles crunch under my bare feet as I push open the quilted doorway and look inside. Eli is lying on a pallet, similar to the one I was on earlier. He looks so peaceful, lying there with his eyes closed, his full, sexy lips soft, slightly parted. His dark hair sweeps over one side of his face, obscuring his eye.

  A stick snaps behind me, and I look over my shoulder. A rabbit looks up at me, then hops away, startled. His little white tail flips in the dark.

  When I glance back, I gasp.

  Eli’s gone.

  The hair stiffens on my neck, on my arms, and I know before I look, he’s behind me. Slowly, I turn.

  Bloodred eyes stare down at me. Wordlessly, yet with a gentleness that surprises me, Eli grabs my throat with one hand.

  I stare at him.

  Then I rear back with my free hand and punch him in the side of the head.

  His hand drops from my throat.

  My knee goes up—hard—into his groin, and he groans.

  I don’t wait for a reaction. I take off.

  Scrub palms and thick underbrush scrape my legs and feet as I rush through the maritime forest, and Eli’s right on my tail. He lunges, grabs my feet, and we both go down.

  I turn and kick him in the jaw, and he flies backward. I scramble up on hands and knees and cut a path through the wood. Just as the sandy beach is in my view, I’m tackled. Eli and I hit the ground in a tangled grunt, and I writhe and clobber him with a piece of driftwood I find next to us. He rolls off me and I’m up and running again. I leap, hit the water, and start swimming. The big splash behind me lets me know Eli’s not giving up.

  Good.

  My arms cut the water, my legs scissor fast, and I swim as hard as I can to the next little barrier island in the sound. The shore in sight, I kick into high gear, and before long the sandy bottom settles under my feet and I pull myself up onto shore.

  Just as I right myself, I’m hit from behind and fall face-first in the sand. The wind is knocked out of me, and a big body lands full-on atop me. My shoulders are grabbed, and I’m flipped over. My hands are trapped, held above my head.

  Eli stares down at me, his face drawn in puzzled fury. Bloodred eyes blazing. Confusion. An inner struggle.

  I focus. Stare fearlessly into those eyes. Eligius, it’s me. Riley. Your fiancée. Please remember me. I demand you remember me!

  He cocks his head to the side, studying me hard. His dark eyebrows furrow.

  I’ve missed you, Eli. Come here. Lower. Press your mouth against mine.

  Eli hesitates; then slowly, he lowers his head. I brace myself, those venomous teeth inches from my throat.

  I’m lost the second Eli’s lips press against mine. He doesn’t move, doesn’t taste. Just . . . lets them be against mine. I inhale, and only then do I notice . . . I can inhale. Air into my lungs. My heart is pounding.

  I have a heart.

  Eli’s scent seeps into me, and yet I keep my eyes fastened on his, so close to me.

  Kiss me, Eligius Dupré. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me and remember. . . .

  Eli’s mouth settles, shifts, and nudges mine apart. His tongue brushes against mine and he kisses me. Gentle at first, he explores and tastes. I lose myself, pushing aside the thought that I’m commanding him to do this with my Fallen powers, to kiss me like this, and it’s not really Eli, but a puppet. At the moment, I don’t care. Couldn’t care less, actually. I can make out with an Eli puppet.

  All I think about is Eli’s body pressing into mine, his fingers entwined with mine, pushing our hands into the sand, and his mouth moving erotically over mine. . . .

  “Riley,” he whispers against me. His voice is throaty, raspy, and his hands move from mine to hold my head on either side. He rises, looks at me. With those bloodred eyes
fastened to mine, he kisses me again. “You don’t have to talk me into kissing you, chère.”

  My heart leaps—and at the same time, confusion webs my brain. “Eli?” I dare to breathe his name. I’m scared it’s all going to fade away. That he’ll morph, grab me, kill me. My heart slams against my ribs, and my breath lodges in my throat.

  “It’s me,” he says, and presses his lips to mine again. “Why’d you run?”

  I look at my fiancé, wide-eyed at first, and then I laugh. “Because you . . . chased me!”

  Eli’s head drops, his hands move down my body, and he’s kissing me so deep, so hard, the sand bites into my back, my head. A deep-throated groan escapes his throat, and it rumbles against my chest. “God, woman,” he says, almost whispering, “I didn’t think I could last another day without you.”

  I’m kissing him back, and running out of breath doing it. I don’t care. “Eli, your eyes,” I manage in between kisses. “They’re still red.”

  “I know,” he says, tracing my lips with his tongue, then sucking on the bottom one. He rolls, pulls me on top, and I stare down at him, amazed. He grazes my jaw with his thumb. “Preacher says they’ll eventually turn back, but for now, I’m stuck with them.”

  I throw my head back and laugh, and then fall into a long, sexy kiss with my fiancé. “I can’t believe we’re okay,” I breathe. “Eli, I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”

  His hands are gripping my thighs, and trails up my back. “Me, too, baby,” he admits. He holds my jaw steady, threads his free hand through my hair. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

  I shove my hands into his silky hair and kiss him softly, and he lies still while I explore his mouth. I suck his bottom lip, slowly, then trace his teeth with my tongue. The unshaven scruff on his jaw against my palm turns me on and makes me writhe against him. I slide my hand down his throat, and he runs his hands over my bared thighs and pulls me hard against him and deepens the kiss. My mind goes completely blank as his tongue slowly grazes mine, and his mouth moves erotically over my lips, and everywhere his hands touch makes me burn for him. On fire.

  Then he stops.

  “Riley.” He looks at me as I pull back, out of breath.

  “Yeah?” I say.

  “Can we get married now?”

  The moonlight is dim, only a slice hanging low above the water, and it casts Eli’s face into sexy planes and shadows. His teeth gleam white as he grins.

  I laugh. “Are you safe?” I inquire. “I mean, you were being guarded by vampires, root doctors, and . . . whatever Gabriel is.” I brush his bottom lip with my fingertip. “Are you . . . dangerous?”

  “Nah,” he says. “They were just taking extra precautions. I want to get married. Soon. And get off this island.” He pulls my bottom harder against him, and I feel his arousal pushing against me. “I want you, every day.” He nuzzles me.

  Suddenly, my eyes fill with tears. “Eli,” I say, and the thoughts of the recent past are choking me, making me hyperventilate. “Eli, oh my God, I thought you were dead.” I shake my head. “In Edinburgh. It was the most pain I’ve ever experienced. Then, with Carrine—”

  “Ri, I’m . . . so sorry,” he says, and wipes away my tears. “In all of what’s happened, I remember two things. One.” He holds up one finger. “The hell I was stuck in after I left you at Waverly in Edinburgh.” He closes his eyes briefly, as if pushing aside horrifying memories. “Two, you, head-to-toe leather, the scatha, dragging me and Victorian Arcos down a gravelly street by our wrists.” He shakes his head. “I wasn’t able to speak, but I saw you, and all I could think was That’s my woman. She’s dared an alternative Hell, and has rescued me.” A smile tugs at his lips. “I’ve always thought you were badass, Riley, but Jesus.”

  I sniff, and smile. “I’d die for you.”

  “If I could, I’d die for you, too,” he answers me, and pulls me close. “I don’t remember what I did while in Inverness—only what Miles has told me. I have flashes, though—of you, trying to get through to me. And you did. Even if for a split second, I remembered.” His lips move over mine, frantic, desperate, and every fear he’s ever had, I feel, and I drink him in. He raises his head. “I’m sorry. For all the hell I’ve put you through. I have a pain inside that won’t stop, and I know it’s from the things I’ve done. I tried hard to fight it, not to drink human blood. I tried hard as hell.”

  With my knuckles, I graze his jaw. The contempt and self-loathing I see in the depths of his red eyes nearly choke me. I can’t imagine his suffering. I look at him hard, long. “Yet look at us now.” I smile. “We survived all of that. And we’re here, together.” I kiss him. “Forever. And this is the last time you need ever mention apologies, Eli. You were not you. A freaking witchpire had you under her dark control.” I narrow my eyes. “I kicked her ass to Hell, by the way.”

  One side of his sexy mouth lifts in a half grin. “So I’ve been told.”

  For a few moments, we’re silent, just drinking each other in.

  “When?” Eli breathes against my mouth. “You. Me. Nuptials.” His fingers lace through mine, and his brow lifts. “Where’s your engagement ring?”

  “April,” I answer. “Best time of year in Savannah for a wedding. And I left it in Savannah, safe with your mom, so it wouldn’t get lost.”

  Eli breaks the kiss. “We’ll have to remedy that, first thing. And April? That’s . . . weeks away.”

  I grin, start to rise. “I know.”

  “Whoa,” he says, and fastens his hands at my hips. “Where are you going, ma chère?”

  “Well,” I say, and trust me when I say it, it is not easy, “we have to save something sacred for our wedding night.” I leap off him and stand, leaving Eli lying in the sand. “From now until our wedding night, consider yourself celibate.”

  Eli’s mouth drops open. It makes his red eyes even more menacing. “What?” He leaps up, grasps my shoulders. “Ri, we’ve had . . . tons of sex!”

  I grin. “Yeah, I remember. Every single time. A lot of it nasty.” I rise and brush my lips across his. “And now you’ll have to savor those memories until we’re married.”

  “Okay, I changed my mind,” he says. “We don’t have to get married yet.”

  I laugh and lace my fingers through his. “Too late. Won’t work.”

  Eli’s face draws into a mask of pure agony. He pushes his hands through his tangled wet hair. “Oh, Jesus Christ. I’m going to die.”

  I laugh. “You’re not going to die, Eli. Besides,” I say, experiencing a bit of agony myself, “it’ll be worth it. Trust me.”

  Eli’s red eye peeks from between his fingers. “That alone makes it worth it.”

  I laugh, and my fiancé pulls me into his embrace. He holds me, our bodies still soaked from our swim, and his chin rests on top of my head. “Are we going to be okay, Eli?” I ask. Uncertainty clouds my joy, and a worry starts in the pit of my stomach. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’ve never felt more alive,” he whispers. “The one thing that was lacking in my detox was you.” He grasps both sides of my face with his hands and stares at me. “I don’t remember much, except the pain. But the one thing I do remember is thinking, What am I missing? Something’s not right, something is supposed to be here, and it’s not.” He smiles, and the moonlight glances off his jaw. He’s so sexy it hurts. “You. I felt empty, dead without you.”

  Love and contentment spread through me, and I realize now that, no matter what else happens, we can handle it. We’ll be okay. I frown then, staring up at him. “Swear to God, Eli. If those creepy red eyes of yours aren’t changed back to that engaging cerulean blue by the wedding, you have to get contacts.”

  He kisses me then, and I fall into his embrace. After the kiss starts to get heated, I pull back and peck him on the jaw. “Do you remember the first time we were together?”

  Eli cocks a dark eyebrow. “Together together?”

  I laugh. “Yes. That.”

  He lowers hi
s head and brushes his lips to mine. “Every last detail.”

  I breathe him in, and the memory of it rocks me. . . .

  The brush of his tongue against mine, his skin, my skin, bare and moving together. His hand caressing every inch of me, his mouth making love to mine. The way he completely filled me, rocked me to my core, and made me all but crawl with need. I couldn’t get enough. . . .

  It takes me a few seconds to breathe, and when I do, my eyes flutter open and stare into Eli’s bloodred ones.

  A grin lifts his mouth. “Damn, Poe.”

  Strangely enough, I feel a blush creep up my neck. “What?”

  “I saw that,” he says. “It’s like we . . . watched. Us. Together.”

  My eyes widen. “You saw that?”

  Eli’s deep laugh cracks the night. “Yeah. I damn sure did.”

  My mouth goes dry at the memory. “Maybe we can negotiate the celibacy.”

  Lacing his fingers through mine, Eli pulls me to the water. “I don’t think so, Poe. You called it. Now let’s go free up all the folks you mind-whammied.” He kisses me one last time. “We’ve got a wedding to plan.”

  Even as we both dive into the chilled Atlantic water, my mind can’t wrap around the fact that Eli is okay, he recognizes me, and we’ll be getting married in a handful of weeks. As we swim together through the darkness, I realize Eli is more than my fiancé. Way more than the best sex I’ve ever had or ever will have.

  He’s my other half. My mate.

  For as long as I live.

  Epilogue

  NUPTIALS

  Unorthodox doesn’t even cover it.

  And I say this with all the love and affection I have in my heart.

  This is one fucked-up life I have.

  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  I’m staring out of my balcony, over River Street and at the Savannah River. It’s been weeks since I awoke on the little barrier island with Noah, and then zapped him and, Jesus, even old Preacher Man, into a zombielike state, all so I could get my fiancé alone. Just to see if he’d remember me.

  Oh, remember he did.

  I almost beat the hell out of him. He wasn’t so gentle with me, either. I kinda dug it, too.