I’M AWAKE, YET I don’t want to be. So, I keep my eyes shut tight, too afraid of what will be carved into my back. Plus someone is stroking my head gently…lovingly, and I’m afraid that once I peel open my eyelids, this calming gesture that I have no right to enjoy will cease.
“Come on, baby girl,” Niko whispers as his fingers rake through my hair. “I’m here. It’s ok. I’m here now.”
Niko.
God, why did Dorian have to say that? Why did he have to fill my head with thoughts that I shouldn’t be thinking? Thoughts that would seriously keep me up at night, wondering if his words could be true. That Niko could actually be in love with me.
I open my eyes slowly, letting his gorgeous face come into view. Even with a few days of stubble, he’s still one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen. Dark hair falls into his crystal blue eyes, only increasing that raw sex appeal that seems to ooze from his pores. His shoulders fall as if his body has just released two tons of worry.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Nice of you to join us,” he smiles. And it’s not one of those forced smiles either. It’s an honest-to-goodness, I’m-so-glad-that-you’re-here…with-me smile. The kind that makes his eyes sparkle as if they’ve been replaced by diamonds.
I slide into a sitting position, taking in my surroundings. I’m in a huge room, much bigger than the white room Dorian and I have—had—been staying in. The décor and upholstery is decked out in deep, dark red and black, and there’s more artwork, including many intricate portraits of a girl. Curly, dark brown hair, slender nose and full, pouty mouth. The evidence of a complex mix of heritages is etched in her fair coloring with just a hint of caramel, highlighted by high cheekbones and a shapely figure.
The way she’s displayed in the portraits exudes so much life, so much love. She’s smiling, laughing, looking at someone with a bit of playful mischief. In one, she’s completely naked, lying on her side, her eyes hooded and hungry, and a satisfied grin on her lips. I quickly turn away from that one.
She’s beautiful, exotic, and something about her reminds me of…well, me. I know who she is, but I look to Niko and ask him anyway.
“Amelie?”
He nods just once. “I’d like to think so. At least that’s how I saw her when I painted them.”
“You did these?”
Just one side of his mouth turns up. “Had a lot of time on my hands.” He grabs a mirror from the bedside and hands it to me. “Here. Let me help you.”
I can tell talking about his lost love still hurts him so I allow him to help me roll onto my stomach and lift up my shirt, even though it’s completely unnecessary. “How am I supposed to see it like this?” I ask, turning back to narrow my eyes at him. He points to the ceiling.
Ah, yes. Of course, there’s a huge mirror on the top of the canopy.
Niko positions the smaller mirror so I can see the reflection of the larger one. It’s several feet away, but my eyes can see it as if it were right in front of me.
“What is it?” I cringe, taking in the symbol opposite of the Human/Polemos one. It looks like the letter V, but with its curled ends, it’s unlike any I’ve seen.
“It’s our mark for Vampire. You saved my life, and as a result, you have been cursed to bear this atrocity. For that, I am both grateful and sorry.” There’s pain in his voice. Regret. “Baby girl, I wish I could take it away. I would do anything just to—”
I roll back over, pulling my shirt down. “It’s ok. I’m ok, Niko. You would have done the same for me, and have saved my ass plenty of times. Don’t stress. I’m fine.”
He exhales, and I imagine that he’s just let go of a tiny bit of guilt. That’s when mine finally decides to kick in.
“How’s Dorian? Did we learn anything on how to reverse the spell?”
Niko settles onto the bed beside me, and while his expression is grim, there’s something hopeful in his eyes. “Alex and I were able to tighten the wards and his restraints. Hopefully, it’s enough to hold him until we can figure out how to transport him. Because if I know my brother—and I once thought I did—I know that Aurora isn’t too far away.”
“Aurora?” Ugh. Why won’t that snotty-ass slore just find a dark hole and throw herself down it already?
“Yeah. He’s summoned her. Their physical bond is still intact, and she comes crawling whenever he calls. Those two…it’s insane. They feed off each other like a flesh-eating bacteria or cannibals. Sick, I tell you.”
A deep ache tightens my chest, and I gasp for breath. Niko picks up on the pained grimace on my face, and steels me with a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, baby girl. It’s not like that. He doesn’t love her. Shit, part of me thinks he doesn’t even like her. I mean, how could he?”
“Well, he liked her enough to sleep with her.”
Niko shrugs. “And? It’s not like that for us. We fuck what feels good. You know that.”
I raise a brow, challenging his shallow excuse. “Is that what Amelie was for you? Something that felt good?”
His eyes instantly pale at the mention of her name, frost forming at the rims of his eyes. A low snarl slips between his tight lips. “Careful. You of all people should know that some things are sacred.”
“Ditto.”
He nods, looking away. “Look, I need to go into the city. Talk to someone that may know what we need to reverse the spell.”
Before he can even finish his sentence, I’m on my feet. “Just give me a second to grab my shoes.”
“You’re not coming. You have to know that I wouldn’t let you come, right?”
“Why not?” I ask, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
Niko mimics my action, but there’s an amused smirk on his lips. “Because where I’m going, people like you and me aren’t welcome.”
“Then why do you get to go?” If he thinks I’m going to back down, then he’s sadly mistaken.
“Because they know me. They don’t know you. And you’d scare the living shit out of them. Or excite them.” The prospect of the latter clearly entertains him.
“But they can’t detect me, Niko. Just tell them I’m with you or, shit, tell them I’m human and you plan to erase my thoughts. I don’t care what you say. Just know that I’m going, and if you try to leave me, I’ll do my freaky freezey thing, and shut you down before you can get two steps outside that bedroom door. And if you try to disappear, I’ll try to follow you, and you know that’ll just be more trouble on your hands.”
Niko rubs the smattering of black hair on his chin, contemplating my threats. Oddly enough, he doesn’t seem angry at my bratty behavior. He’s almost sorta…impressed. “You could get someone killed. Then there would be even more blood on your hands. Could you actually live with yourself after something like that?”
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” I nod, stepping forward to stand before him. “Niko, I’ve been powerless for so long, relying on others to save me. I’m so sick of being a bystander. Please. Let me into your world. This is where I belong.”
He huffs out faux aggravation and tips his head to one side. “Fine. But if you’re sure about this, you’ll need to be prepared.” He steps forward, placing his hands on my shoulders. “You want into my world? Just know that you can never turn back. At least not alive.”
THE STENCH OF piss and vomit cling to my skin and hair as if bile is permanently embedded in the pavement. I feel it all over me, covering me like a hot, sticky film, making it impossible to escape. Breathing through my mouth is just as bad—you can taste the rancid flavor of hundreds of corroded livers and excrement. However, breathing through my nose is out of the question with my super sense of smell. I’d rather stick my head inside a toilet bowl at The Cat’s Meow.
This is not what I had pictured of New Orleans. Sure, there’re plenty of partygoers staggering up and down Bourbon Street, but knowing that their lives could be reduced to nothing more than zombie-like cattle…it just doesn’t seem fun to me.
“Keep your head down,” Niko mutters under his breath, a cap pulled over his brow. He’s dressed in black from head to toe, complete with a leather jacket and combat boots. He’s even made me do the same, insisting I tie my hair back in an inconspicuous ponytail before shoving a hat on my head. We parked a few blocks down on Canal, opting for one of his less flashy cars—a black BMW 750Li.
“What’s with the disguises,” I whisper, as we weave through the drunken crowd.
“Look around you. This city is teeming with darkness, especially Oinos. I used to control this territory. I don’t anymore.”
Panic sets in, causing me to nearly stumble over my tennis-shoed feet. Oinos are around? I mean, I’m not surprised, judging by all the hot messes spewing their guts between flashing their boobs for beads. But it’s still pretty daunting to know that we’re surrounded by Dark.
“Don’t be afraid,” Niko murmurs, reading my thoughts. “They may have jurisdiction now, but this is my city.”
Without another word, I follow him into a filthy, narrow alley. It’s the kind they warn you to stay far away from when college campus safety officials give you a rape whistle. I keep my hands stuffed into my pockets, careful not to brush up against anything. I’d very much like to make it out of here Hepatitis-free.
We stop at a tiny, wooden door that I wouldn’t have noticed had it not been for Niko. He knocks twice, then three times in fast succession. Then he ends the ritual with two more. Moments later, a portly woman draped in a robe and scarves opens the door. She wears a colorful wrap on her head, and her brown skin is etched with wrinkles.
“I’ve been expecting you,” she says to Niko, without a hint of alarm. Not even bothering to look in my direction, she asks, “Who is the girl?”
“She’s with me.” The authority in his voice is unmistakable.
“Hmmm. She’s with you, but she isn’t yours.” The woman steps aside and holds open the door so we can pass. The moment I hit the doorjamb, a rush of energy falls over me, crawling all over my skin like fleas. I shudder, brushing the phantom infestation from my body, but of course, there’s nothing there. The woman makes a tsking sound.
“Seems there’s more to this one than meets the eye.” She searches my face, dissecting every feature her gaze can touch. “Remove your glasses, girl. No sun hangs in the sky.”
I do as she says, grateful that Niko spelled my eyes to their original state—hazel-brown. The woman snorts, clearly disappointed.
“Let’s get on with this, Claudine,” Niko says, feigning boredom. “I don’t have all night.”
Claudine tears her eyes away from mine and nods at the perturbed Warlock inside the pitch-black hallway. “Very well. She may pass.”
I force myself forward and the moment I do, I see that the hallway isn’t dark at all. It’s not even a hallway. It’s what looks to be a shop of some sort, with various trinkets and books on shelves. There are also baskets of tiny satchels on a countertop, all in different colors. The smell of incense and…something else…in the air isn’t unpleasant, yet makes it hard to breathe. Every lungful I take, I feel a bit…off. Subdued. Not like I’ve just hit a joint or something. It’s more like a tranquilizing effect.
“What is this place?” I ask, as Claudine leads us to another room that houses only a small, round table and chairs.
“Haven’t you ever been to a Voodoo shop, girl?” She has an accent unlike any I’ve ever heard. Syllables are exaggerated and consonants are skipped over completely.
I shake my head and she shrugs with disinterest. “Well, have a seat so we can get started. What brings you to my door, Nikolai?”
Niko slides into a rickety, wooden chair and steeples his fingers in front of his mouth. “What do you know about reversals?”
Claudine’s drawn-on brows reach for her head wrap. “Reversals? I believe that’s your territory, Warlock.”
He shakes his head. “I need information on more complex spells. Not one that reverses memories. I need one that can reverse time.”
Claudine laughs, the raspy, harsh sound bounding off the walls of the small room. “You insane? My people do not know of such things. We do not hold that type of magic.”
“Ask the spirits. Your ancestors—the old ones—they may know. They will have memories of how it was before. Ask them, Claudine. It’s a matter of life and death.”
The old woman leans back in her chair, regarding Niko with an almost admiring stare. As if she may even care for him. “You serious?”
Niko’s face softens for a split second, just fast enough for her to see his sincerity. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
“Ok.” She turns to me, spreading her palms onto the table. “Stay or leave, girl. But decide now. Once I begin, you won’t get to change your mind.”
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.