Chapter Nineteen
Ava
I was dreaming of Macgrath again. That damn vampire had been invading my sleep too often lately.
Though I would never admit it, I’d actually begun to look forward to it.
The way he stared at me in those dreams was intoxicating. Bewitching. He looked at me as though I were everything. The sun, the moon, and the stars. The universe itself.
He looked at me as though he loved me completely and couldn’t believe I was real.
In this particular dream, I was lying on the bed, facing him. While I was beneath the blankets, he wasn’t. He lay on top of them. One arm was bent beneath his head and the other stretched across the bed so that he clasped my hand in his. I looked down and realized that I’d pulled his hand into my chest, cradling the back of it against my heart.
My eyes traveled back to Macgrath’s face in repose. With his features softened in sleep, he looked like a statue of Eros, slumbering as Psyche looked on.
The analogy made me uncomfortable for a moment. Was I Macgrath’s Psyche?
Then again, this was a dream, so it shouldn’t matter. But somehow it did.
As a witch, I knew that dreams held power. They might bring foresight of a horrible event. Or create a bond between two creatures. Such as a vampire and a witch.
No, this wasn’t a harmless dream created by my subconscious.
Slowly, I uncurled my fingers from his. I would pinch my arm and wake myself up before the dream could progress.
But when I moved, his eyes flew open and his hand tightened on mine. He cleared his throat, his grip loosening just a bit.
“Hey,” he greeted me softly. “How are you feeling?”
This wasn’t a dream at all. It was reality. I tried to think. How did I end up in a strange room, on a strange bed, with Macgrath?
In a rush, the memories flooded me.
I sat straight up, jerking my hand from his. “Savannah!”
Before I could slide out of bed, his hands clasped my shoulders and held me in place.
“Shhh, she’s okay. She’s sleeping. You helped Kerry bind her to Rhys, remember?”
I did remember. As he said the words, the image of Kerry kneeling over Savannah’s scorched body came floating back to me and my stomach turned.
“I want to see her,” I demanded.
Macgrath moved and his face appeared in front of mine as he crouched on the bed. “It’s three in the morning, Ava. She needs to sleep and to heal. If there’s a problem, Rhys will call for us.”
I stared at him for a moment, fighting my urge to fling his hands away and go find Savannah so that I could see for myself that she was fine.
Finally, I relented. He was right. She needed the rest and Rhys wouldn’t appreciate it if I barged into their room and disturbed her.
“Fine,” I sniffed.
The corners of his mouth lifted in the ghost of a smile that disappeared almost immediately. “Are you thirsty?” he asked.
At his question, I realized that my mouth was dry and there was a faintly metallic taste on my tongue. “Yes,” I murmured, my voice hoarse.
He released one of my shoulders and reached over to the nightstand to grab a bottle of water. I was grateful that he cracked the lid for me because my hands felt shaky and weak.
I nearly dropped the bottle when I took it and his hands wrapped around mine, helping me lift it to my mouth. I swallowed half the bottle before pushing it back toward him.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He put the lid on the bottle, set it to the side, and settled onto his knees, sitting back on his calves. “How do you feel?” His eyes probed mine, as though he wanted to be sure I was telling the truth when I answered.
“Weak, a little shaky,” I replied honestly. “What happened? Where are we?”
“Do you remember your injury?” he asked.
My brow furrowed as I tried to clear the muddle of my mind. I felt as though I’d taken a sleeping potion and awoken too early. Everything was fuzzy and disconnected.
Then I lifted a hand and pressed it to my side. The skin felt tender and fragile, as though it were newly healed.
“That…creature,” I said. “It managed to get through my shields.”
Macgrath nodded. “Yes. You were healing but slowly.”
I focused on him then, his features growing sharper the longer I looked. The haziness was gradually lifting. “You healed me, didn’t you?” I stared at him for a few moments. “You have magic in you. How did I not see it?”
His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want anyone to see it. You know as well as I do that witches don’t trust anyone who has been turned, even if they were once part of their coven. Vampires can’t be trusted since so many of them forced humans and witches with power to turn against their will. I don’t advertise what I can do because I don’t want the attention or the suspicion.”
He was right. Though I didn’t necessarily share the views of witches, I knew that many wouldn’t trust a vampire who’d once been a witch. For some reason they seemed to believe that the vampire would then try to convince them all to turn. Or do it by force.
Though the vampire council in Texas had outlawed the practice of turning magical-wielders against their will a century ago, covens still warned their children about the dangers of vampires.
I also knew why Macgrath had hidden it from me. He likely thought that I would have used it as a reason to drive a wedge further between us. And he was right. A few days ago, I would have.
But tonight, everything was different.
I saw the look on his face when I hit the ground after the creature wounded me. I remembered the gentle cradle of his arms as he carried me to the front porch so I could help Kerry save Savannah.
Even though I hadn’t realized it at the time, I felt safe with Macgrath. I trusted him to hold me and to care for me.
In the luminous glow of moonlight, he looked different. Younger, more vulnerable. Even in his alertness, his predatory nature seemed to be suppressed.
It reminded me of something. Someone. But I couldn’t quite bring the memory to the forefront of my mind.
Without thinking, I reached out and my fingers touched his face. His jaw was rough with a five o’clock shadow as the tips of my fingers brushed from his chin to his ear and then back down to his chin and finally to his mouth. My middle finger traced the line of his bottom lip, the contrast of his warm, soft lip to the scrape of stubble made the fine hairs on my arms lift and a shiver travel down my spine.
Macgrath sucked in a sharp breath, his lips parting as he looked at me, his eyes beginning to glow. We stared at each other, unblinking and poised on the brink of something beyond either of our control.
“What are you doing?” he whispered.
I shuddered again as his mouth moved against my fingertip, brushing the sensitive pad. I moved my hand then and trailed a path over his jawline, down the corded muscles of his neck, and to his chest.
I had no idea what I was doing, only that I didn’t want to stop.
Macgrath’s body tightened as my hand dipped beneath the vee neck of his t-shirt to trace the line of his collarbone. His skin was hot and lightly dusted with hair.
He reached up and took my hand, pulling it out of his shirt and pressing it to his sternum. “Ava,” he murmured.
I closed my eyes and my head fell forward until it rested against the back of his hand where it held mine to his body. In that moment, the way he said my name told me all that I needed to know.
He ached for me as much as I ached for him. He was as wary as I was and afraid to trust, not just someone else, but himself.
I didn’t resist when his other hand came to my cheek and lifted my head. Macgrath’s face was much closer now, the soft glow of his eyes touching my forehead, cheeks, and lips as his gaze moved over my features. Our lips were only a few inches apart.
“Ewan,” I whispered. I don’t know why I said his given name. I usually called him Macgrath, mostly to keep distance between us.
His hesitancy disappeared then. The hand cupping my cheek moved to my hair and he gathered it in his fist, tilting my head back. His other hand lifted my arm, wrapping it around his neck so that our upper bodies were crushed together.
I was surrounded by his strength and heat, and it made me dizzy.
For a moment, I thought our mouths would collide as he leaned his head down, but he stopped just before our lips touched.
I could feel the faintest whisper of his soft bottom lip against mine when he spoke. “Are you sure this is what you want, Ava?” When I tried to close the distance between us, he resisted, staring into my eyes with alarming intensity. As though my answer had the power to break him…or make him whole.
“I want you,” I replied, my voice trembling slightly. I cleared my throat and took a deep breath before I continued. “I trust you.”
His arms tightened around me, nearly to the point of pain. “You’re sure?” he asked again.
I groaned in exasperation. “Of course I’m sure, you giant pain in the a—”
Before I could finish the sentence, his lips caught mine.
With all the taut sexual tension between us, I expected him to plunder my mouth like a conqueror.
Instead, his lips were soft, coaxing, and addictive. I melted. There was no defense against gentle persuasion. His kiss reminded me of my dreams and how I couldn’t resist the Macgrath that I saw in my sleep.
Now, it was as if he’d become real.
His hands moved to cup my face and his fingertips slid into the hair at the nape of my neck and made my scalp tingle where they connected with my skin. When I shivered in his hold, he made a low sound in his throat and shifted closer.
Together, we knelt on the bed, our bodies melded together as our mouths tangled in slow, sensuous kisses that made my skin heat and my body soften.
Macgrath released my face and wound his arms around me. I mirrored his movement, only I slid my hands beneath the hem of his t-shirt and let my palms glide up the muscles on each side of his spine.
He was solid and warm, strangely real after weeks of dreaming of him. The kiss in the coffee shop seemed as though it were the dream now. I’d been so angry and overwhelmed that the onslaught of emotions had overshadowed the sensations Macgrath’s lips evoked.
But now…now I could savor him. The texture of his mouth, the taste of him, they were intoxicating. I felt nearly drunk on passion, my thoughts torn asunder by a sea of desire.
When Macgrath lifted his head, I tried to chase his mouth with mine, but he drew too far away.
“Aveta,” he whispered.
Every witch knows that names have power. And when Macgrath spoke that name, it crashed over me, smashing against mental barriers. I heard a loud crack, as though the walls that the curse created in my mind were about to collapse.
Then there was pain. The same agony I experienced yesterday when the two images of Macgrath superimposed themselves on one another.
I gasped at the pain, my eyes tearing. Before Macgrath could pull away, I reached up and grabbed his face in my hands, bringing it close enough that I all could see were the emerald irises of his eyes and the golden spikes radiating around his pupil.
I breathed past the pain and something leaked through the first crack in the curse that separated my present from my past. A word.
“Alaunus,” I breathed.
In the blink of an eye, his body stiffened and his eyes flared. His lips drew back and I saw that his fangs had dropped.
The growl that escaped his throat was low, vicious, and terrifying.
I opened my mouth to speak, to calm him, but I didn’t have a chance to make a sound.
He was on me in a blur of motion, moving so quickly that I was on my back on the bed before I could even process what was happening.
Macgrath growled again and his eyes moved from my face to the place where my pulse fluttered in my neck.
“Macgrath,” I whispered, trying to get his attention.
He snarled again, his face moving closer.
I tensed, torn between the desire to lie still and see what happened and to fight him off using magic. The urge to lie still was ridiculous because he was a vampire and he was practically feral. If I didn’t break through soon, he might rip my throat out.
Suddenly, he lunged forward. On instinct, I lifted my hands and pressed them to his chest, but he merely buried his face against my neck. I held my body perfectly still. I didn’t want to provoke him when he was so close to the vein that throbbed in my neck.
Just as I felt the light scrape of his fangs against my skin, Finn appeared, looming over us. Macgrath was so focused on me that he didn’t sense him.
When Finn’s eyes met mine, his jaw tightened and he looked grim.
Something must have alerted Macgrath to Finn’s presence because he suddenly straightened, whirled, and tackled the other vampire to the ground.