Bound by the Vampire: A Paranormal Romance Novella Page 8

  Her eyes dropped as she said that, and her face flooded with color.

  She’d broken their unspoken agreement, and brought up what had happened between them.

  He knew he should ignore it. But instead he heard himself say, “I left you last night because you didn’t really want me there. I knew you’d regret being with me when you figured out it wasn’t a dream, and I thought I’d save us the awkward morning-after chat.”

  With her cheeks flushed like that, he couldn’t help remembering what she’d looked like in the throes of orgasm, crying out his name as her muscles clenched around him. He closed his eyes, fighting to keep his demon contained. “You’ve got a boyfriend, remember? I thought I was making things easier for you.”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend anymore. I broke up with him this morning.”

  His eyes snapped open. She looked back at him, her cheeks still pink and her green eyes full of uncertainty.

  Hope flooded through him, and he cursed himself for a fool. It didn’t matter if she was free or not—Celia Albright wasn’t for him.

  “The club is closed until further notice,” he said harshly. “I’ve had magical wards put on the windows and doors. If you try to leave, an alarm will sound. So don’t try to leave. Anything you need, any food you want, just ask Shank and he’ll get it for you. I know you’re pissed at me, so if you don’t feel like seeing me for a while, that’s okay.”

  Celia was still looking at him, but she didn’t look pissed. He wasn’t sure how to read her expression. Then she took a half step towards him and laid a hand on his cheek. “Evan—”

  He could have handled her anger better than this. He jerked away as if she’d burned him, opening the door and standing back so she could go through it. “Have a good night, Celia. I’ll let you know if I hear from Jack and Liz. And we have another twenty-four hours to take Hawk’s deal. I hope you’ll at least think it over. Your life is worth that much.”

  She looked at him for one more moment, and this time she did look pissed. Then she disappeared through the door.

  Chapter Eight

  Celia’s mind was in turmoil. Her attempt to talk to Evan about last night—which had taken all her courage—had failed. It was obviously a one-off for him, something he had no desire to repeat or even remember.

  And why had she even tried? The man was keeping her prisoner, for God’s sake. She should be furious with him—and she was. Part of her was, anyway.

  But another part of her persisted in seeing something in Evan he couldn’t seem to see in himself. No matter what he said about his motives, she couldn’t think of any reason for his determination to save her other than the streak of decency, of goodness, that he hadn’t been able to stamp out of his character. He’d risked his own life the other night to save hers, and even though he was going against her wishes in keeping her trapped here, he was doing it to protect her.

  It wasn’t his fault that she’d decided her safety wasn’t the most important consideration right now.

  And that was the rub. She appreciated what Evan was trying to do, but his goals weren’t her goals anymore.

  Which meant she had to find a way to work around him.

  Back in her room upstairs, she started to pace across the beautiful wood floors, from the fireplace on one wall to the window on the other.

  One thing she was sure of. She was tired of feeling at the mercy of other people, whether it was her clan leaders, the people trying to kill her, or Evan—even though he was trying to help her. Even Jack and Liz. She wanted them back so much she could taste it, but she knew if they did come back, they’d take over. They were warriors, used to taking action and being in charge.

  Not that there was anything wrong with that. That was why Celia wanted them so much: so she could relax in the warm circle of their strength.

  But she was afraid if they got pulled into this, they’d feel the same way Evan did. She was afraid they’d try to protect her no matter what, even if it meant putting everyone in the world at risk.

  Unless she could show them firsthand what she was talking about. If they could see what she had seen—

  Celia stopped pacing.

  God, that was it. That’s what she needed to do. She needed to show someone what she had seen.

  If she could…

  To bring another Faery along with her on the journey would require two rituals, two magic spells—the absinthe ritual and a spell of joining.

  It would also require a willing participant. And outside of Liz, she didn’t know how to find a Faery who would trust her that much—or one she could trust.

  Which meant she’d be taking a huge risk.

  Taking absinthe again would be a huge risk, too. There was a very real chance that she might not make it back from the dark realm this time.

  But it was a risk she was willing to take.

  She went upstairs to her room to make a phone call.

  ***

  The biggest weakness of the plan was her magic. Getting out of Evan’s club undetected depended on her ability to cast a difficult spell, and there was no guarantee there. But that, too, was a risk she was willing to take.

  She had an hour before she made her attempt. Sitting in the armchair, looking at the bed where she and Evan had been so passionately intimate, so closely bound for such a brief time, she was fighting the urge to go down to his office and see him one more time before she left.

  Whatever happened tonight, and after, it would probably be the last time she ever saw him. One way or another, the path her life took now probably wouldn’t include Evan.

  And there were things she wanted to tell him.

  But the work she had to do now was more important than her desire to see Evan again, to tell him what was in her heart. Her plan would be touch-and-go as it was.

  No, she couldn’t see Evan again. But she could write to him.

  She found a pad of notepaper and a pen in the desk across the room, and she wrote him a letter. When she was done, she folded the single sheet of paper in half and wrote Evan’s name on it. Then she put it on her pillow and left the room, closing the door behind her.

  The spell to lock it from the outside was a relatively simple one, but she felt a rush of relief when it worked. She doubted that Evan would go anywhere near her room tonight, but if he did, he’d find the door locked and assume she was pouting or fuming or whatever and didn’t want to see him.

  Evan was still in his office, and Shank was asleep in one of the guestrooms. She went to the front door of the club and took a deep breath, ready to say the spell that she hoped would get her out of here.

  Then she let out the breath without saying a word. She looked at the door, and then she turned and looked back across the empty room, towards the hallway that lead to Evan’s office.

  She wanted to go to him so badly she could taste it. She wanted to let him protect her. She wanted to rely on someone else, someone stronger. Because she wasn’t strong, physically or magically. When it came right down to it, she was just an eighth-blood Fae and a second-rate spellcaster, and she was out of her league.

  She remembered her conversation with Evan earlier, about World War II. She’d sounded so brave and determined talking to him then, talking about doing her part like people had done during that time.

  She didn’t feel brave now. She felt young, and weak, and foolish.

  But young, weak, and foolish or not, she still had a job to do. She might fail, but that didn’t absolve her of her responsibility.

  So she took another deep breath and spoke the words of the spell, and when she was finished, she was a foot taller and two hundred pounds heavier.

  She was Shank. Or at least, she looked like Shank.

  The spell had worked. She gave herself a few seconds to blink in astonishment at that fact—and at the fact that she was now a vampire linebacker.

  Yana had been right, after all. When it was important enough, the magic had been there for her. But would it be enough to fool Evan’s
magical wards?

  There was only one way to find out.

  She unlocked the door, turned the knob, and walked out of Evan’s club.

  It was early evening, and shafts of the setting sun blinded her momentarily as she walked west. She turned left, and then right, and after a few more blocks and turnings she ducked into a doorway and let the glamour fade.

  She was herself again. After twenty minutes’ walk, she was knocking on the door of Jessica Greenwood’s brownstone.

  ***

  Evan had told Celia he’d understand if she didn’t want to see him for a while, but the sad truth was, he spent the entire night hoping—and trying not to hope—that she’d knock on his door. First the door of his office, for the several hours he spent there—and then, even more foolishly, the door of his bedroom.

  He’d knocked on her door once, when he was on his way upstairs. She hadn’t answered. He’d started to call out to her and then stopped himself. There was a limit to how pathetic he’d let himself be. His priority was protecting her, and he was doing that. Nothing else mattered.

  And that was why he didn’t realize she was gone until Jack Morgan and Liz Marlowe arrived at his club the next morning.

  Shank let them in when he saw it was Jack, and when Evan heard all the noise and came downstairs, he found the two vampires hanging onto a small dark-haired woman who was demanding to see Celia right goddamned now.

  It took the combined strength of both of them to hold her back.

  “I guess you got my message,” Evan said to Jack, who had his arm around his mate’s waist.

  “Yeah. Can Liz see Celia?”

  Evan shrugged. “That’s up to Celia, not me. She’s upstairs, second door on the left.”

  Liz pulled away from Jack and crossed the room like a runaway locomotive.

  “That’s the girl you’re madly in love with?” Evan asked drily.

  Jack watched his mate until she disappeared up the stairs.

  “Yes,” he said.

  A few days ago, Evan would have felt nothing but contempt at the look on the other vampire’s face. Now, he could only pray the same look wouldn’t be on his own when he saw Celia again.

  “Tell me what the hell’s going on,” Jack said now, and Evan gave him a brief account of the last few days. He’d just about finished when they heard a loud crash from upstairs.

  They wasted no time in heading up there.

  They found Liz standing in the middle of the empty room, having kicked the door down to get inside.

  She whirled around to confront Evan. “Where the hell is she?”

  Evan advanced into the room, unable to believe Celia wasn’t there. He looked at the bed, his mind flashing back to the last time he’d seen it, and his eyes focused on the note she’d left on her pillow.

  In less than a second it was in his hands.

  Dear Evan,

  You’re a good man. I know you don’t want to believe it, but it’s true. Maybe you haven’t always done good things, but the courage and compassion and decency inside you is obvious to anyone who bothers to look.

  I believe we define ourselves by the decisions we make, which means we can redefine ourselves every single day. I believe with my whole heart that from this point forward you’ll make the right decisions. And I hope you won’t be angry with me for the decision I had to make, to do what I think is right. As much as I wish I could, I can’t keep hiding here with you. I have to show someone else what I’ve seen.

  If I fail, I know you’ll work with Jack and Liz to fight against the Dark Fae, to keep the demons from coming through the veil.

  Thank you for everything, Evan. I wish you the best, now and always. And I want you to know that I don’t regret the night we made love.

  It was the best night of my life.

  Celia

  “She’s gone,” he said, looking down at the paper that trembled in his hand.

  “Gone where? Let me see that,” Liz demanded, crossing the room and reaching for the letter.

  Evan jerked it out of her reach with a growl, his fangs bursting from his gums.

  Liz sputtered at him while Jack came swiftly to her side. He whispered something to her that Evan couldn’t hear.

  It was clear from Jack’s expression that he’d guessed the truth about Evan’s feelings for Celia, but that didn’t seem to matter anymore.

  Liz stared at her mate for a second and then shrugged impatiently as she turned back to Evan. “Fine, whatever. Keep the damn letter. Just tell me what you meant by ‘she’s gone.’”

  Jack was the one who answered her, telling her what Evan had told him downstairs.

  “Oh, my God,” Liz said, her expression horrified as she put two and two together. “So she’s gone charging off somewhere to stop this from happening? On her own?”

  Evan felt punch-drunk, his mind and emotions in complete turmoil, but he forced himself to think clearly.

  “In the letter she said ‘I have to show someone else what I’ve seen.’ I think she went to one of the Fae, to try to convince them of the danger by taking them into trance with her.”

  “That makes sense,” Liz said. She was pacing back and forth, her hands clenched into fists. “You said that Jessica was the one trying to bring her in. Jessica’s the Queen’s daughter, a powerful Fae…but not as inaccessible as the Queen. Celia might have gone to her. And if Jessica turns her over to the clan leaders—”

  “Even if she doesn’t, Celia is still risking her life. She told me she shouldn’t take absinthe again for a long time.” Evan squeezed her letter in his hand. “Do you know where Jessica lives?” he asked Liz.

  “Yes.”

  “Then what the fuck are we waiting for?”

  ***

  There were servants and bodyguards at Jessica’s townhouse, but they weren’t Green Fae warriors and they were no match for Jack and Evan, much less Liz, who was such a roaring tornado of fury that most of the people they encountered in the townhouse just got out of her way.

  “But they’ll call for backup,” Evan said to Jack, who nodded his agreement and went to guard the entrance. Evan and Liz went on up the stairs, looking into every room until they found the right one.

  For an instant they stood frozen in the doorway.

  Celia and Jessica were both in the big bedroom, lying on a Persian rug in front of the fireplace as if they’d simply fallen asleep. But the paraphernalia of the absinthe ritual was on a table beside them.

  In the next second Evan and Liz were kneeling beside the two women. Evan had never felt more powerless—or more terrified—as he took one of Celia’s hands in both of his.

  “Celia,” Liz said gently, laying a palm on her friend’s forehead. “Celia, can you hear me?”

  No response. Evan felt a sick weight in his gut as Liz turned with less gentleness to Jessica, gripping her shoulders as she called her name.

  The blonde girl stirred groggily, her eyes blinking open. Her whole body started to shake, her teeth chattering, and Liz took off her jacket and wrapped it around her.

  “Elizabeth,” Jessica said, sounding and looking dazed. “We have to—we have to stop it. Celia was right. She was right.”

  Seeing Jessica shivering uncontrollably, Evan pulled Celia into his arms, cradling her against his chest.

  “Get me a blanket,” he growled at Liz. “I don’t have any body heat.”

  Liz shot him a swift glance and then nodded, going over to the bed across the room and grabbing the quilt from it. She handed it to Evan and crouched down between him and Jessica, who was sitting up on her own.

  “Why isn’t she waking up?” Jessica asked, frowning at Celia.

  Evan growled in response, and Liz laid a hand on his arm. “She shouldn’t have taken absinthe,” she said curtly. “There’s a chance she…”

  She trailed off without finishing the sentence, and Evan fought the urge to hold Celia too tightly as he growled again. He seemed to have lost the power of civilized speech, as if he’d become
nothing more than an animal crouching over his fallen mate.

  Jessica’s eyes turned to him. “Why is this vampire here? What’s going on, Elizabeth?”

  “What’s going on is that Celia may have given her own life in a cause you were working against. Of course I know you were only following Mommy’s orders, but—”

  Jessica jerked her chin up. “That’s not fair. I honestly believed that—”

  “No one gives a fuck what you believe,” Evan rasped. Grateful that he could once again speak words, he turned to Liz. “Her heartbeat is slowing down. We need to do something now.”