Chapter Four
“Open your eyes, love.”
Ashley kept her eyelids squeezed tight, fearing what she’d see if she opened them. Her heart beat ninety miles an hour. Justin’s lips teased her cheek, and she bravely opened one eye. The pillow fluffed around the side of her face, and she opened the other eyelid to find the comforter surrounding her like a cloud. She was firmly grounded to the bed.
With that, she kicked out, and when Justin rolled away, she scrambled backward until her feet hit the floor. Backing away from the bed, she searched the room for her clothes. She had to get the hell out of the hotel and find a psychiatrist or a stiff drink—probably both.
Justin sat up and reached for her, his eyes wide. “Wait—”
Ashley threw up her hands. “Stay back or I’ll…I’ll….” She grabbed a vase of roses off the bureau and drew back. Justin pushed off the bed and stepped toward her. She threw the vase, but he clapped his hands and as he did so, a surge sucked the air from her lungs. Impossibly, the vase stopped and hung suspended between them. Her legs trembled from the rush of energy that passed through her.
“What is this?” She braced her hands on her knees.
“’Tis your power I draw from that holds the vase still. I fear it pales compared to what you’re capable of.” He gave her a coaxing grin, but she wanted none of his explanations.
“Just stay away from me, you’re crazy,” she warned again, though the threat weak.
“Your dreams of the black cat and green rolling hills—tell me of them.”
She gasped. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stared at the thick carpeting, her voice small with the lie.
Flashes of the dream took over her mind, the black feline staring at her from the rich, emerald grass. A mist collected around the cat, reforming it, until it was not an animal, but Justin who peered at her.
No, not Justin—Alasdair. She ground her teeth and tears pricked her eyes. What is wrong with me? Justin kept back, his wary gaze trained on her face.
“You must accept who you are, who you’ve always been, Princess.”
She dared a look into his eyes and saw what she’d feared most, the eyes of a man she’d always known. Emotions tumbled over one another—fear, sadness, anger—but none of them belonged to Ashley. She shook her head, desperate to rid herself of the swirl of feelings.
“They’re nothing but dreams,” she said, more to reassure herself than Justin. “Stupid dreams.”
“No, not dreams.” Justin stepped sideways, and the vase dropped to the floor, the delicate crystal cracking and wetting the carpet as roses spilled out. The draw on Ashley’s energy released and she slumped, ready to join the flowers scattered about. Justin’s hands found her shoulders, keeping her upright. “I’ve searched for you, prayed that Providence would help me find you.”
Her vision blurred and hot tears streamed down her cheeks.
His thumbs stroked them away as he cupped her face. “Coincidence led me to the 1NightStand, and the moment I saw your beautiful blue eyes, I knew who you must be.”
“The black cat is you?” She already knew the answer. Her life as a Manhattan stylist faded, replaced by the opulent living of a Russian of royal blood. It didn’t seem as loony as it should have, and she let the feelings flow. “They never understood me.”
Justin placed a kiss to her forehead. “Your family was of the old Russian way, and feared what they couldn’t understand. Your powers were a sin to them.”
“I hadn’t asked to be different.” She met his gaze as sorrow and anger mixed with emerging memories. “And the moment they saw us together they damned us, so they had you killed and shipped me off to the America.”
“I was a common man, a warrior, of foreign stock, and I drew out your magick. They could see it. They believed me the devil.”
Ashley shook her head. “What does all of this mean? How am I here if I was someone else long ago?”
Justin’s face softened. “You simply moved into the next life after death.”
“And what, you followed me, like in reincarnation?”
He shook his head. “No, death is not an option for my kind when parted from the one we’ve centered to. I’ve searched for you for a century.”
She pursed her lips at his vague explanation. He brushed the hair over her shoulder and smoothed it down her back. “You have it wrong—they never ordered my death. They had me sent to prison, and by the time I escaped and tracked you down to the United States, you were already gone from this world.”
She brushed off his touch and backed away, doubt at his explanation returning. “No, none of this is real. I’ve had a mental breakdown of some sort.”
Justin grabbed her hand, and held firm as she pulled back. “You are of sound mind, and I know how hard this must be to accept—”
Her jaw set. “You’ve no idea what I’m thinking, now let me go. I’m leaving.”
He pulled her to him. “Not until you believe me.”
“How can I believe you? This kind of stuff doesn’t happen in real life, only in movies. For all I know, you drugged me.”
His brows shot up and a smile curled his lips. “How, with a kiss?”
They stared at one another in deadlock.
“Give me one chance to prove what I say, just one. If you still don’t believe then you are free to go live life as you please.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Fine, you have one shot, so you’d better make it a good one.”
He spun her around and pointed at the broken vase. “I want you to focus on the flowers and the vase. Imagine it whole again.”
The vase remained as it was even as she eyed it. She snorted and waved a hand toward it. “Well?”
“No, my love.” His hot breath fanned her ear as his voice dropped an octave. “You are no’ trying. The power is yours, simply draw it from me as you did when we made love.”
She nibbled her bottom lip and let out a breath as she closed her eyes. Justin’s warmth seeped into her naked skin until she grew hot. Goose pimples broke out over her flesh as energy surged through her much like adrenaline. When she opened her eyes, the vase hovered before her, perfect, the roses splayed over its delicate rim just as it had in her mind’s eye.
She gasped and it dropped, but Justin was quick to catch it. He drew the flowers to her breast and the aroma filled her head.
Justin nuzzled the nape of her neck. “You were a witch once upon a time, love. And as a witch, you had the most power when paired with a familiar. The black cat in your dreams represented me. I was calling to you.”
She stroked the delicate petals of a rose bud and it opened wide beneath the touch, coming to life as did the spark of acceptance within her.
“I don’t know how to take all of this, Justin.”
His arm wrapped around her waist. “’Tis something you’ll have to grow into. Not all know the power from birth as you did in your last life. As your familiar, I will guide you.”
She turned in his arms and met his gaze. “How is it you’re still twenty-six? I will continue to grow old, and you’ll forever be too young for me.”
He set the vase aside and stroked his hands over her back, heating her nerve endings. “No, since we are one once more, I will start to age again.”
“That’s not a fair trade.” She wanted free, but he held tight, a hand massaging her buttock.
“A very fair trade, for I can now pass from life to life with you and not be doomed to an eternity alone.” His hand slipped between her thighs, sliding between her folds.
Her breath caught in her throat and her head fell back as he toyed with her clit.
“Call me by my name, Princess Natasha.”
She moaned, giving herself over to the sensations and to the new reality not of her choosing. Though, if given the choice, she wouldn’t go back to her old life.
The vase sat on the bureau, once broken, as her heart had been when she’d lost her beloved familiar, Alasdair. She’d wasted away in her bed, unable to eat, until illness robbed her of life, as her family robbed her of love, even as they prayed fervently at her bedside.
“Alasdair, take me to bed.”
He groaned and lifted her in his arms. The crystal vase was now whole, and so was she in her beloved’s embrace.