I nod stiffly, bracing myself. “I’m staying.”
“Suit yourself.” She takes a deep, cleansing breath and closes her eyes. I look over at Niko, but his gaze is fixed on Claudine. She begins to chant in a low voice, in a language that is beyond my comprehension. I lean forward, watching, waiting for her ancient Voodoo to fall over us.
And nothing happens.
Awkwaaard.
I’m on the verge of a snarky comment, my eyeballs ready to roll, when the table begins to tremble beneath my fingertips. An old, faded brass chandelier above us begins to sway, yet there are no windows in the room, and no breeze flowing from under the door. Before I can write it off as cheap parlor tricks, the lights go out, bathing us in complete darkness.
No one says a word. Even Claudine has stopped chanting.
That’s when I hear them.
Whispers. Hushed, frantic whispers all around us. Some full of fear and horror. Others gruff with anger. And they all seem to be talking to me.
“Spirits! Kings and queens on the other side. Speak to us. Bless us with your wisdom.”
The whispers grow louder, increasing to a low roar in my ears. I can hear their alarm, although I can’t make out their words. I look to Niko in the Dark, whose eyes are as wide as mine. Shit. This was a mistake. We may be able to disguise my appearance, but the spirits would know. What have I gotten myself into?
“She is of no consequence,” Claudine says, also hearing the shift in their focus. “Please, holy ones. We call upon you. We seek your knowledge of the forbidden forces. Without it, darkness shall eclipse our world.”
The voices rise to terrifying screams, causing me to seek the comfort of Niko’s hand. His fingers meet me halfway, curling around my palm with the same sense of urgency. I call to the place inside me—the ball of energy that pulses and heats, begging for release—praying for protection. But there’s a block; something’s keeping the magic from reaching my fingertips. Niko squeezes my hand tighter, and I wonder if he feels the hindrance too.
There’s one loud, final shriek before all falls silent. The lights flicker back on, revealing a quivering Claudine slumped over on the table. Niko quickly rushes to her side and carefully takes her into his arms.
“Claudine, talk to me. Tell me what they said. I need to know!” He gives her a little shake, yet keeps her head and neck supported. The way he handles her, I can tell he has some level of affection for her, even though her heritage—her magic—goes against everything he believes in.
“It’s happening,” she croaks, her voice strangled. She claws at Niko’s shirt, pulling him closer to her trembling lips. She whispers briefly into his ear before she falls into unconsciousness, slumping forward onto the table.
“We have to get out of here,” Niko says, stepping back from the woman. His eyes dart around anxiously.
“What? Why? What’s going on? Is she ok?” I spring to my feet so fast that my chair goes crashing backwards, causing us both to flinch.
“She’ll be fine. But we won’t be if we don’t leave.”
Niko grabs my hand and pulls me out of the room. The entire shop is eerily quiet, but even I can sense that something isn’t right. When we hit the exit that leads to the alleyway, Niko practically shoves me out, the door slamming at his back.
“What the hell was that?” I shriek as he pulls me towards the vibrant partiers on Bourbon. We veer into the crowd behind a bachelorette party. Niko presses his body into mine and wraps his arm around my waist.
“Just stay quiet until we get to the car,” he whispers. I do as he says, letting him lead me out of the melee and back out to Canal Street.
“The spirits weren’t happy you were there,” he finally says as he zips through traffic, heading for the interstate.
“No shit.”
He shakes his head. “I should’ve known they’d be able to sense you. I was careless with your life…with Claudine’s life. I fucked up.”
I look at him from the passenger side, the scowl across his handsome face bathed in twilight. Driving is seamless to him—watching the road isn’t even necessary—but he refuses to even glance in my direction. “Who is Claudine to you? I thought you hated all magic that wasn’t created by the Divine? But you obviously feel something for her.”
Niko takes a deep breath, and the frown in his forehead deepens. “Claudine has been the one teaching me about her people’s magic. She’s the one who showed me the practice of necromancy. And she’s also Amelie’s great-aunt.”
Right. Of course, she is. I can’t imagine Niko having a shred of patience for a Voodoo witch that wasn’t related to his long, lost love.
“The practice of Voodoo in Louisiana is outlawed by the Dark. They keep the shops open as tourist traps, but that’s it. Claudine is one of the last Laveaus to actually practice in the French Quarter. And in exchange for her guidance and information, I provide her with protection.”
“But do you think she can actually help us? I mean, how would she even know about the Dark and the Light? I thought anonymity was rule number one?”
We hit the ramp to the highway, and Niko takes off into the night, the BMW purring like a sated kitty. “There are exceptions, like your friend Morgan. Besides, Claudine gave us the information that we need. Now we know what we need to do to reverse the spell. As impossible as it may seem.”
“And what’s that?”
He turns to me, his hand still guiding the steering wheel while his eyes take in my confused expression. “Light, baby girl. We have to find a Light Enchanter.”
We ride in companionable silence for the duration of the journey. A Light Enchanter? Really? How the hell are we going to find one of those? Let’s be real: The Light don’t give a damn about me. And trying to make them care enough to save Dorian, a Dark Prince? Ha! We’d have a better chance of finding Waldo at a candy cane convention.
Just before we hit the gates of Niko’s mansion, he swerves onto the side of the road. Sensing his alarm, tingling heat is already snaking up my wrists.
He shakes his head. “Something’s wrong inside the house. I feel…fear. Panic. Rage. Stay here. You’re right inside the ward so you’ll be safe.”
“Bullshit. I’m coming with you,” I say, already unbuckling my seatbelt.
“Dammit, Gabs!” Niko shouts, slamming his palms on the steering wheel. “This isn’t the time for one of your little tantrums. You have no idea what we could be walking into—not a fucking clue. This is no time for games.”
I look at him with steel in my eyes, just as frost begins to form along my lashes. “My best friend and my last living relative are in there, along with the man I love. Does it look like I’m playing?”
He sucks his teeth, lips tight around a frustrated sneer. “Fine. But if something happens to you… If you get hurt…” His voice breaks and he looks away, unable to meet my determined expression. I reach out and touch his forearm, soothing his trepidation.
“I’ll be fine, Niko. I won’t let you go in there alone. We’ll do this together, ok?”
He swallows and I watch the lump in his throat move up and down his neck. “Fine. But you stay behind me. Got it? And don’t do anything unless I say. I mean it, Gabs.”
We both jump out of the car and dash to the front door, virtually silent. The door is still locked and there doesn’t seem to be any signs of a break-in. Still, it’s a huge estate. And, intruders don’t usually come through the front door. When we make our way through to the foyer, I know for a fact something is wrong.
“Morgan!” I whisper. Niko meets my wide eyes just once before placing a single finger against his lips. He points toward the great room, where the smell of fresh blood, and the sounds of sobbing are the strongest. I look up at the Warlock beside me, hoping to convey my horror. Whatever lies ahead isn’t good.
“So nice of you two to join us.” His voice greets us before he even comes into view. He’s been expecting us.
I step forward on shaky legs, but Niko pushes me behind his
body protectively. “What are you doing with her?”
Dorian turns his head toward Morgan and tightens his grip around her neck. She trembles in his arms, her knees buckling, and I can see the sheer terror in her bloodshot eyes.
“My friend Morgan and I were just having a little chat,” Dorian sneers. He runs his nose along the shell of her ear, and inhales. “Now, someone decided to spell this house to keep me locked inside. And Morgan won’t tell me who did it. So here’s what’s going to happen: You’re going to lift the ward, dear brother. Or pretty little Morgan here is going to lose her head.”
“D, let her go,” Niko says, his voice level and calm. He puts his palms up as he approaches Dorian slowly, and I’m right behind him. That’s when I spot Alexander’s still, crumpled body behind the couch, his head haloed by fresh blood.
“Dad!” The word is out of my mouth, and I’m kneeling down beside him before I can stop myself. I know Niko told me to stay behind him, but it’s Alexander. It’s my father. We’ve had so little time. I can’t lose him now. Not when I’ve lost everything else.
His hair is matted with blood, and there’s a nasty gash that has split the base of his skull, but he’s alive. Why hasn’t he healed by now? Just a few feet away, partially hidden under the couch, is the Polemos dagger, the handle stained with blood. Shit. The wound is stalling his healing. And if Dorian had actually used the blade, he could have died from the very weapon that his people—our people—created. Dorian could have murdered my father.
“What did you do to him?” I growl, turning my heated glare on the man I thought I once knew. He smiles at me, his white teeth too close to Morgan’s neck.
“Just gave him a little taste of his own medicine, that’s all, pet. But this one,” he says, tugging Morgan closer to him. “This one won’t be so lucky if you don’t let me out of here.” His fingers stroke the delicate skin over her carotid.
“You don’t understand, D,” Niko says, creeping in closer. “We’re trying to help you. You’re not yourself right now, but we can help you.”
“Fuck you!” he spews. “You want to keep me caged like an animal. For what? For her? A stupid, insignificant child? You disappoint me, brother. You don’t deserve to bear the name Skotos.”
It’s in that very moment that realization sets in, seeping into me like a sluggish drug. This is Dorian. This is who he is. And there may not be anything we can do to save him. Hell, he doesn’t want to be saved. Forcing him to reform back into the man he once was won’t make him love me. He may never look at me again and flash me that sexy, crooked smile. Or kiss the top of my head tenderly while wrapping me in his arms. I may never feel the warmth and smoothness of his skin against mine, or ever feel that all-consuming fullness when he pushes inside me.
This man in front of me, his fingers digging into my best friends neck, will never again make love to me. He’ll never kiss me until my knees get weak. I have to accept that. I have to be smart enough to realize that the man I love is dead.
“Let him go,” I croak, my throat impossibly tight. Niko turns to me, his brow furrowed.
“What?”
“I said, let him go. Lift the ward. He doesn’t want to be here, and we can’t hold him forever.”
Niko shakes his head. “Gabs, we have the information we need. We can try to reverse the spell, and bring him back.”
“But there’s no guarantee that we can.” I climb to my feet, and walk towards Dorian, who stiffens at my advance. Morgan shudders in his arms as he clutches her tighter. “What is meant to be, will be. If he is my destiny, and I am his, we’ll get him back. And if not, then…”
I can’t even say the words. I know this is the beginning of the end, yet I still can’t say it. And it’s not even the fact that Dorian doesn’t love me that truly kills me. It’s because, as I look at him—seeing nothing but violence and evil within this stranger’s pale blue eyes—I realize that I don’t love him.
“Just let him go,” I say again, my voice more confident as the decision settles in my gut. I turn my back as Niko huffs out a defiant breath, but even he can’t argue. He knows it’s too late. We can’t keep trying to hold onto something—to someone—that doesn’t want to be kept.
My legs take me out of the great room, down the hall and past the white room where I once felt heaven and earth move. Away from the battle between love and hate that’s raging at my back. Away from him. Away from us.
Just let him go.
I already did.
I’VE BEEN HERE before.
Lying in bed, crying, listening to the same, sad song on repeat. The song that Dorian played for me that night in my bedroom. He couldn’t convey his feelings, so he let the music speak for him. And God…he said so many things. Things that were forbidden. Things that I let myself believe.
I could take those lyrics literally. I could stand at my bedroom window and gaze up at the moon, hoping that we were both looking at it from our separate ends of the earth. Wishing that he could hear all the things I never got to say, and in turn, that would bring him back to me.
But it’s just a song, and those lyrics were never really for me in the first place. Still, I keep holding onto how it felt to pretend. How it felt to have that beautiful lie caress me with sweet promises.
There’s knock at the door, but I pretend not to hear it, jamming my ear buds deeper into my ears. I already told Morgan I didn’t want to talk about it. But like the good friend that she is, she held me as I sobbed after Dorian left. It shouldn’t have hurt that much, especially since I knew it was coming—hell, I let him go. But finding out that Aurora was waiting at the gates, a smug smile on her flawless face? That unlocked a fresh new realm of agony.
The knocking resumes, so I roll over onto my side to face the wall, shouting, “Go away.” But even with Bruno Mars wailing in my ears, I hear the door creak open. Fuck. When the hell did Go away mean Come on in?
“I don’t want to talk about it, Morgan!” I yell into the comforter, choking on a sob. Can’t I have one day? Just one day to be a regular mess of teary-eyed girl? I know I’m not human, but shit, I hurt just the same.
The bed dips behind me, and I dig my face into the mattress deeper, refusing to reveal my bloodshot eyes and runny nose. A soft touch strokes my hair, fingers raking through loose curls, and I realize that it’s not Morgan at all. It’s actually the one person I don’t want to be here, yet the only person I’d allow to see me like this. Plus, this is his room. On some level, I expected him to come.
“Baby girl, you’re going to smother yourself.”
“I don’t care,” I croak.
“But I do.” Niko gently caresses my arm, his calming essence working its way into my skin.
“Stop. It won’t work. I’ll still feel like shit. I’ll still know he’s gone.”
“But we can get him back. We can fix him, and he’ll be just like he was.” There’s so much hope in his voice. So much misguided trust in fate.
Fuck that. Fuck it all.
I whirl around, not even giving a damn about how red and puffy my eyes must look, or the wetness around my nostrils. “You really believe that? You really believe he’ll come back to us? The Dorian that we used to know—that we used to love—he’ll come back and everything will be fine? He left with Aurora, Niko. You know the two are probably fucking right now, gearing up for some psycho killing spree. Shit, you know how he is. They probably fuck while they’re killing, just for fun! And you want me to believe that he’ll come back completely unscathed?”
“I thought this was what you wanted!” Niko retorts, his temper flaring. “You told me to let him go. I did what you wanted. Hell, I get that you’re hurt, but that doesn’t mean you give up! You don’t give up on the people you love, Gabs. Ever. You fight. You fight until you bleed. You fight until you’re reduced to nothing, then you pick yourself up and you fight some more.”
His words bring more tears to my eyes, pouring a healing salve on the wound I was allowing to fester out of self-
pity. He’s right. I had given up. I was ready to turn my back on Dorian over the simple fact that he was with Aurora now. I was willing to sit back and let her win.
Niko leans over to wipe away a rogue tear, before inserting his finger in his mouth and sucking it clean. I watch, mouth slightly ajar and eyes so wide that I feel my lashes brush my eyebrows. I should be disgusted, but I’m intrigued. Maybe it’s the beast in me, but I find the gesture endearing, bordering on erotic.
Niko looks at me, blue eyes glittering against the dimness of early dawn. He doesn’t look embarrassed or ashamed, and I don’t want him to. Funny how we’re willing to indulge in all forms of acceptance, even when we can’t accept ourselves.
“Alex,” he finally says after more than a minute ticks by, as if he’s just remembered what he came for. “He’s starting to heal. Morgan is caring for him. He’ll be fully restored within the next day.”
“Good,” I sigh with relief. I didn’t really realize how much I wanted Alexander in my life until I almost lost him. Secrets aside, I really do think he loves me. He’s still a bit awkward with me, and warmth and affection are not his strong suits, but I can tell he cares for me. He just doesn’t know how to show it. It’s not in his nature.
Niko takes a deep breath, letting it out through his nose. I already know something is up. “Gabs, I need to know you’re with me. I need to know I can rely on you.”
I slide into a sitting position, wrapping my arms around my knees. “What do you mean?”
Niko scoots onto the bed, crossing his legs at the ankles. He leans back onto a mound of pillows, and I realize that I haven’t seen him stop or slow down in days. Shit, maybe a week. Fortunately, he’s still sustained by my magic, but the guy has got to be exhausted.
“I need to know that you’re down to do this. I’m willing to go on this asinine quest for a Light Enchanter, and I need to know that you’re willing too.”
I snort and shake my head, not out of disagreement, but out of disbelief. “You know, I had this picture of Dorian when he was younger…this beautiful badass that just couldn’t be tamed. I knew he had done terrible things, and I knew he dated Aurora, but this…I never expected him to be cruel. What happened to him? How could he have changed so drastically?”