Mother May I (Knight Games Book 4) Page 8

  His jaw tightened with his grip, and he pulled me closer again. “I am sorry, Grateful. I did not mean to be presumptuous. The feelings I have toward you are confusing to me. Ancient. Intense.”

  “Our relationship has always been… physical.” I licked my lips. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You told me it happens every time.”

  “Every time?”

  “Every time I die and come back. You find me, every time, and we fall in love again.”

  “Sounds simple. Almost inevitable.” His eyes shifted to the floor and the corners of his mouth curled under.

  With a little shake, I tried to refocus his attention on me. “Affairs of the heart are never simple, and I’m not naïve enough to believe that anything is inevitable. You have a choice. You don’t have to...” My voice cracked, but I forced myself to finish. “…love me. You don’t have to love me.”

  The music stopped. We weren’t dancing anyway. The band started packing up their instruments and small groups of vampires quietly disappeared around the corner to the tunnels. The crowd parted like water around us, our bodies motionless rocks in a sea of activity.

  I looked away from Rick only when a mass of black feathers almost barreled into my head.

  “Poe!” He landed on my shoulder and rubbed his birdy body against my ear.

  “Thank the goddess,” Poe said. “I looked everywhere.”

  “I knew you’d find me eventually. If we’d waited, I’d be dead.”

  Gary appeared, looking haggard and barely conscious. He rolled a small suitcase toward me, the worn carry-on my father gave me in high school, and shoved the handle into my hand. “Julius told me to tell you to take the bed. He prefers one of the guest coffins.”

  “Where’d you get this?” I asked, taking it from him.

  “Sent a human back to your place.” With a small, sarcastic salute, Gary disappeared in the direction of the tunnels.

  I glanced at Rick, suddenly feeling exhausted. He motioned toward the stairs. “After you, Grateful.”

  * * * * *

  As I led Rick to Julius’s room, I felt like a predator. I was exhausted and needed rest above all things, but in the back of my mind, all I could think about was getting him between those red silk sheets. He wasn’t ready for this level of seduction. Not emotionally or mentally. But I couldn’t help myself. I was starving.

  I parked my suitcase next to the door and turned the lock. With eyes on him, I crossed to the side of the bed closest to the fireplace and kicked off my shoes. “Will you join me tonight?” I asked, biting my lip. I hooked one hand around the bedpost and leaned out, swaying slightly. “Watch over me while I sleep?”

  He swallowed and gave a curt nod. With careful steps, he approached.

  I stopped swinging and stood up straight, letting the smile drain from my face. Then I hooked my fingers under the straps of the silver dress and slid them from my shoulders. The fabric crumpled to the floor, leaving me bared in the light of the fire.

  Rick stopped short. “You’ve been scarred.”

  I looked down at myself. The place between my breasts where Hecate had burned me now bore a jagged scab.

  “Does this bother you?” I asked.

  For a moment, he simply stared, impassive.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, bending to retrieve my dress. “I’ve pushed you too far.”

  In a flash, strong arms swooped me up by the waist and crushed me against his chest. My legs wrapped easily, naturally, over his hips, and he supported me under my thighs.

  “I’ll tell you when you’ve gone to far. As you said, our relationship has always been physical,” he whispered into my lips. His mouth crashed into mine.

  Frantically, I tugged at the hem of his T-shirt. He tipped me onto the bed, my back bouncing on the red velvet, before stripping the gray cotton over his head. I sat up and went to work on his fly. I was hungry, starving for his touch in more ways than one. That metaphysical connection we shared awakened, his need for me all animal attraction and raw heat. I worked my hand into his pants, cradling and stroking. His breath came in ragged pants, and he froze, hinging at the hips.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Forgive me. I am losing myself.”

  I took his hand and placed it over my heart. “Do you remember any of this? Sex, I mean.”

  He shook his head and lowered his eyes. “It is clear my body remembers, but I have never done this before.”

  I guided his hand until it cupped my breast. “It’s normal to feel like you’re losing control.”

  His thumb stroked my nipple and he relaxed slightly.

  “Take your time.” I slowed my fondling and brushed his lips with my own.

  He kissed me back, caressing my breast and melding his mouth with mine.

  “Oh!” I said, pulling away a little. I reached up and dabbed my bleeding lip. Rick had partially shifted and clipped my lip with his eyetooth.

  He looked at me with widened black eyes.

  “It’s okay,” I cooed, continuing to stroke him. “Remember how it was in your bedroom? Your beast comes to the surface when you have strong emotions.”

  A violent shiver coursed the length of his back. “I can’t s-stop it.”

  “Oh!” The skin of his chest and arms bubbled ominously. I removed my hand from his pants. Rick hadn’t shifted since he lost his memory. “This isn’t the most ideal venue for your first time shifting, but I think it’s important you let it happen,” I said to him. Once he was over this hurdle, I was sure his beast would be easier to control. He needed to be able to defend himself. “Don’t try to stop it. Let it go.”

  I scooted off the bed and moved toward the fire to give him more space. He backed away, his body convulsing. Bones snapped and organs shifted beneath his bubbling skin. He released a wretched scream.

  “What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Shifting didn’t usually hurt Rick. In fact, he’d told me before that it was painless.

  “It hurts. Oh God, help me!”

  I closed my eyes and opened our metaphysical connection. He’d paused mid-shift and was indeed in excruciating pain. “Don’t block it, Rick,” I said. Why was he stuck? This had never happened. I tugged on that string that bound us together, coaxing his beast out with my magic.

  He screamed again, and I pulled harder. His black eyes met mine as the bones of his back elongated into a tail and claws sprouted from his bent knuckles. He couldn’t speak anymore but down our connection, he was begging for help.

  “Let it go,” I cried. “You’re only making it worse trying to stop it.” I coaxed and pulled until I was sweating from the effort.

  With one last tear of flesh, the man who was Rick was gone and the dragon-like creature I called the beast filled the space in the large room. Two iridescent leather wings unfolded from his back. Rick’s beast whimpered and lowered his head, lifting one foot, then another.

  I reached out to stroke him behind the ear.

  Wild-eyed, the beast retreated from my hand, then roared loud and long enough to blow back my hair. “What’s wrong, big guy?” I asked sweetly.

  The beast rolled one giant black eye toward me until I could see my reflection in it. Thumping down to the floor, it whimpered again. This time when I reached out, it closed its eyes and allowed me to scratch and massage its neck.

  “I’m not sure why that was so painful. It’s usually not that bad,” I whispered. I stroked his neck until the beast’s eyes grew heavy and his breath even. “Okay, Rick, time to change back. Try to relax.”

  The beast jerked away again, bumping against the bookshelves in panic. Several heavy volumes rained down on his scaly hide. I reached down our metaphysical connection and pushed the beast away, calling Rick’s form forth.

  His scales shifted and ruptured. The beast’s wings folded into its back and its claws retracted into flesh. A process Rick used to accomplish in seconds took several painful minutes and more than a little help from me. Finally, Rick unfolded, naked and shakin
g. He was ghostly pale and sweat made his skin glisten in the firelight. He groaned and tumbled onto the bed.

  “Let me help you,” I said, moving to his side.

  “Don’t touch me.” He flinched away, tucking himself under the blanket. “I… I am sorry. Everything hurts. I cannot bear it.”

  “It will get easier, Rick. Every time you shift, the process will go faster and hurt less.” At least I thought it would. That’s how it had been before.

  He held up one hand and curled into a ball on his side.

  I crawled in beside him, although the terribly large bed meant we both had plenty of room. Hand reaching for him over the mattress, I paused and squashed my desire to comfort him with physical touch. Staring at his back across the long stretch of mattress, I whispered, “Rick, are you okay? Do you need blood?”

  “The answer to both of those questions is no,” he said. “Go to sleep, Grateful. You need rest, and I cannot speak to you right now.”

  I licked my lips and coiled within myself like a tight spring. “Okay.” I stared at his back until sleep finally overcame me.

  Chapter 12

  You Again

  The clink of dish against dish woke me. I blinked to clear my sleepy vision and found Julius sitting with a newspaper in one of the red chairs near the fireplace. The fire had gained several new logs and the blaze produced a homey atmosphere at odds with its supernatural occupant. He’d turned the massive piece of furniture slightly, I assumed so he could watch me sleep. Creepy. The clinking I’d heard must have been his teacup hitting the saucer. The hot liquid still sloshed against the rim. A large plate of scones rested on a small table next to him.

  “You again.” I groaned.

  “Good morning to you too.” He scowled in my general direction.

  “What are you doing in here? I thought I locked the door.”

  “And I have the key. It is my safe house.” He refolded the paper and raised an eyebrow. “Breakfast?”

  I looked over my shoulder, but the bed was empty. “Where’s Rick?”

  “He’s downstairs partaking in a flight of blood. Seems you wore him out last night.” Julius’s eyes raked over my body.

  That’s when I remembered I was naked. I snatched the velvet comforter from my waist and dragged it up to my neck.

  “Don’t cover up on my account. I was quite enjoying the view.” With a sigh, he tucked the paper beside him in the chair and raised his cup. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Why didn’t you tell me about the mark?”

  “What mark?” I looked down at myself. “Oh, that. It’s a scar from where Hecate attacked me. Red lightning straight to the heart.”

  “It’s not a scar. It’s ancient Greek.”

  I stared at my chest under the blanket, at the sharp edges and geometric shapes carved into my skin. “No... What?”

  “It is ancient Greek. Your mother left you a message in your skin.”

  “What does it say?”

  He struck me with an intense stare. “It says, I give permission. You’ve been marked, Grateful.”

  “Fuck me!”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  I scowled and sat up, wrapping the blanket around me and allowing the sheet to slip from my skin. I managed well enough to keep all the important parts covered, but when he thought I wasn’t looking, Julius’s eyes shifted to the place where the edges of the blanket met. I took a seat opposite him and poured myself a cup of tea.

  “I need to tell Rick. Every supernatural baddie in the ward is going to have a taste for my blood.”

  “I recommend you keep the mark covered and remain as under the radar as possible.”

  “But what then? I can’t hide forever.”

  “If you can’t hide, then you must fight.”

  I peeked over my cup at the vampire, but there was no hint of levity or condescension in his eyes, only pity.

  “I should get dressed and find Rick.” I set down the tea and stood, searching the room for my bag.

  “He doesn’t look well. What happened last night?”

  “He shifted for the first time since he lost his memory.”

  Julius lifted his teacup and took a contemplative sip. “Then my suspicions were correct. The caretaker’s abilities have been compromised, as well as his memories. He is not ‘fine’ as you so firmly insisted.”

  The bag Gary had provided me was hastily packed. I wondered briefly which human companion he’d sent back to the house. Instead of answering Julius, I ducked into the bathroom and changed into jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt. When I emerged minutes later, the vampire looked at me expectantly.

  I sank into the chair across from him and broke off a corner of a scone. “What do you want from me? An apology?”

  “An apology from you would be as rare as a snowball in July. I’d settle for an admission of the truth.”

  I popped the pastry into my mouth. Buttery. Rich. Delicious. “Fine. Rick’s not himself… yet.”

  Julius leaned forward and tapped the tips of his fingers together between his knees. “If we are going to work together, you must be honest with me. I have risked my life and my coven helping you.”

  “He can’t do magic, okay? Like, none. Not even caretaker magic. When he shifted last night, it was painful to watch. I’ve never seen him shift so slowly or suffer so much. I had to use our connection to help things along.”

  Julius grimaced.

  “What? I couldn’t leave him half-shifted like that. It was torture.”

  The vampire crossed one leg over the other and leaned back into the plush chair. “If I understand correctly, Tabetha’s persigranate poisoning was meant to turn him into a vegetable. You intercepted the spell but not before damage was done. The last thing Rick remembers was seeing you burn. He’s lost everything between then and now.”

  “Exactly. The faster we can help him accept what he is and relearn what he’s lost, the better.”

  “What if it isn’t just about relearning?” he said, returning his cup to the table and leaning toward me. “What if something was supposed to happen in 1698 after you burned? What if the caretaker spell was undone or never fully completed?”

  I dropped the scone I was holding. It landed in my lap and dusted me with crumbs. For a long time, all I could do was stare at Julius. How could this vamp see what I had missed all these weeks? Rick hadn’t just forgotten who he was and what he could do. He was a puzzle with a missing piece.

  I stood. The pastry fell to the floor, scattering crumbs everywhere.

  “Grateful, this is an old building. You’ll attract rats.” He charged across the room to the door and yelled something down the hall. I wasn’t listening. I was pacing.

  “In 1698, after I burned to death, Rick was able to build and enchant the fence around Monk’s Hill Cemetery. That means, his full power came to him almost immediately,” I said. What was the catalyst between my burning and his coming to power? What tidbit of history had been unraveled by Tabetha’s mischief?

  A female vamp in a maid’s uniform rushed past me with a dustpan and began cleaning up the mess.

  “I need my grimoire,” I said to Julius.

  “Out of the question. Your house is surrounded. The goblins will make Swiss cheese of you before you reach it.”

  “Gary got someone in.”

  Julius shook his head. “Gary compelled a human to go in on his behalf, at dawn while the goblins were still distracted with your escape.”

  I squinted at him. “Which human did Gary compel?”

  “Your friend Logan.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Valentine’s. It’s nearby and accessible. Gary only had a few moments before dawn.”

  “Damn it, Julius. I promised myself I’d keep Logan out of this mess. He’s been through enough with Tabetha. You shouldn’t have used him like that!”

  The vampire scowled and paced toward me, wrapping his icy fingers around the bare skin of my shoulders. “You, witch, are in need of a reality check. A go
ddess wants you dead. One misstep, one wrong move, and all is lost. All you have going for you is a faulty caretaker, a mangy familiar, and a vampire, weak from drinking animal blood. Now, I am truly sorry that your high principles were affronted by our use of your friend, but if you’d like to live another day, I suggest you quickly build a bridge and get over it.”

  “Mangy? Speak for yourself, corpse breath.” Poe swooped through the door left open by the maid and landed on the back of my recently vacated chair.

  “Poe, where have you been?” I asked.

  “Out gathering reinforcements,” he said, nodding toward the door.

  Polina appeared in the doorway with Hildegard, her snowy white barn owl, on her shoulder. She placed her fists on the hips of her leather pants. “Poe tells us there’s been trouble.”

  Chapter 13

  A Team of My Own

  After explaining about the second goblin attack, Julius’s interpretation of my scar, and Rick’s painful shifting experience, I waited impatiently for Polina’s reaction. She paced the large room, her frown becoming incrementally more pronounced with every step. The intensity of her movement caused Hildegard to leave her shoulder and perch next to Poe on the canopy of the bed.

  “If I had any sense, I’d kill you right now and be done with this,” she said.

  “Excuse me?” I could tell she wasn’t serious, but I didn’t like where this conversation was headed.

  “I like you, Grateful. You’re one of my only friends. But you must realize a quick death would be the compassionate end for you. The goddess has a price on your head. Every supernatural being is going to want you dead, if not to improve their position, then to gain favor with the goddess.”

  “Yeah, because that worked out so well for me when I had permission to kill Tabetha.”

  “You know that and I know that, but there are plenty of witches who will lick their chops at the thought of gaining not one but two elements with your death. And if the criminal supernaturals gets wind of this? They’ll want you dead to be free of your judgment. I highly doubt the goblins will be the only ones aiming for your head.”