Seems I broke my fingers on both hands during my destroy-Genevieve frenzy. And my back was a shredded mess from my time spent with that evil bitch smashing me against the sharp fence like cheese against a grater. As I suspected, only adrenaline and my power prevented me from feeling the full extent of my injuries in the moment.
I passed out for a long stretch when they started on my back. When next I woke, I found my body clean and sporting blue scrubs, my fingers taped, and my back stitched. Alexander and Adrian hovered like silent sentinels on either side of my gurney. Alexander also wore scrubs while Adrian looked like groomed perfection in his gray Armani suit and blue shirt. My friend didn’t say a word, just kissed my forehead, then squeezed his sky blue eyes shut and shook his head.
Jonas arrived soon after, scolded me for keeping secrets—pot, kettle, black, anyone?—and shared news of Evil Thing One and Evil Thing Two. Genevieve was so far gone it would take her years to recover, especially as my surrogate mom Tessa, in a fit of retributive rage, removed her gift of the mysterious vampire life spark, locking Genevieve in her own mind inside her mangled body. Stuffed in a coffin in the Deep Freeze, our prison for all naughty vampires, unable to feed, and regenerating slower than a snail’s pace, that nasty old cougar would remain out of commission, tortured by the pain of her injuries for a very long time.
As for her brother, Dixon… He also enjoyed a repeat visit to a frosty coffin in the Deep Freeze to suffer alongside his sister. When I asked Jonas if they would die after their prison sentence was complete, he let out a disgruntled growl and replied, “Probably not.”
When I pressed for a reason, Thomas inserted himself in the conversation from afar.
You defeated two ancients, a wondrous feat, and have sent a clear “do not mess with the princess” message to our enemies. As for the ultimate fate of the de Champagne siblings… It is complicated, cara mia.
Complicated. Story of my life.
I let it go, more interested in hearing about the state of my friends than about the fate of my thwarted, imprisoned enemies. To my utter joy, Mark and Ren were alive and well, Stella having managed to save them from major harm by evil, vampire cougar. I owed my faithful bodyguard friend big time for that one. Newbie, feral vampire Kai was safe and snug in a coffin, on his way to Italy for vampire rehab, with Faith accompanying him, of course.
I smiled. Maybe things would work out—as long as Kai didn’t hate me for ordering his conversion to vampire. I already worried my brother Tony would never forgive me for his turning. I couldn’t handle both of them shunning me. At the thought of the brother I had yet to confront and beg forgiveness from, my smile faded but I tried to remain upbeat.
I had to have hope it would work out. The alternative hurt my heart too much. “I’m glad Faith is going with Kai. I think her presence will help a lot.”
Jonas looked at me with glittering dark eyes. “As will yours, Little Warrior.”
As I gave him a perplexed look, trying to parse his meaning, a sharp jolt of power jabbed my head, like a mosquito on steroids. “Jonas?”
Sleep, Little Warrior. You have done well.
What are you
—? My world wobbled.
“Jonas, what are you doing?” Adrian protested, finishing my thought.
“Oh, hell no,” Alexander growled.
The room took a blurry spin, and I passed out for the fourth time in the past twenty-four hours, although technically, I died that second time in Dixon’s dungeon then somehow magically jolted back to life. A mystery to explore for another day.
I woke up on the family plane bound for Italy and my father. Tricked by my family, yet again.
Jonas and Thomas knew I didn’t want to see or speak to my father. I wasn’t ready to forgive him for pretending to be my uncle for twenty-five years, for abandoning me when I was thirteen, for taking away my whole life and locking it away in a dark corner of my mind.
No, not the conversation or family drama moment I wanted to have after almost dying at the hands of
his
enemies, now mine, too. Yet here I was, flying fast to reunite with the man I loved so much as a child, the one I didn’t know if I could forgive enough to love as an adult.
I’ll pay you back for this, Jonas. You too, Thomas.
No reply, but I knew they heard me.
Better watch out.
Shelving the sad Dad thoughts, I also forced my mind away from the other Dad-related mystery—the revelation that my fire power might not be of vampire origin after all. That I was human, vampire, and something else. I bet my father knew what else. Maybe that would be our first topic. Forget the past and deal with the present conundrum.
A yawn escaped me. I opened my eyes and took stock of my status—buck naked in the king bed of the jet’s private bedroom. Mild headache. Mouth dry with tinny taste. I wiggled my fingers. All healed. And lucky me, Alexander lay next to me, one arm draped across my middle, a comforting weight. Okay, maybe the plane ride had a few perks. My heart went all pitter-patter as I took in a greedy eyeful of delicious man.
“Hi.” I smoothed my favorite lock of hair from his forehead. Such a rebel, that lock.
“Hi there.” He leaned into my touch, his sexy smile crinkling the corners of his eyes and making my toes curl.
“How long was I asleep?”
“Several hours. We’ll be there soon.” He rolled over and leaned down—giving me a great view of his healed back with its glorious tan skin over sculpted muscle—popping back up with a bottle of water. I drained it fast. He tossed the empty to the floor, then lay back, settling me against his chest.
I snuggled close, listening to the soothing beat of his heart under my ear. The plane bounced a bit in some light turbulence, the whoosh of the airplane’s white noise and Alexander’s heartbeat almost lulling me back to sleep.
But…I didn’t want to sleep. “How close are we to Italy?”
“A few hours.”
“I see.” I stroked his smooth chest, tracing every line of his pecs and sculpted abs, then wandered lower to the curly brown hairs below his stomach. “You tired?”
“No.” He shifted, and my hand encountered his very interested erection. I stroked his length, touch light and teasing, enjoying the groan that escaped his throat.
I circled the tip. “What do you want to do?”
“What do you think?” He flipped us until I was under him with his erection pressing against my wet center. He cupped my face in his hands, pressing his warm lips to mine. “Thanks for saving me, baby.”
I sank my fingers into his hair and kissed him back. “I think you saved me, actually. When your power hit me, I was Super Woman.” I slid my hands along his shoulders. “And together we kicked some serious ass.”
He snagged my hands and pushed them above my head, our fingers entwined. “Yes, we did. But that’s not what I meant, baby.”
He inched inside me, making me gasp with the slow invasion, stretching me, sending a riot of happy sensation zinging through my core. My insides spasmed around him.
He stilled, his fullness making me want to wiggle my hips and create friction, but he held me in place with the weight of his body. “Carina. You saved me from a long, solitary life. Eternity was empty until that night I found you in the Castro.”
My lips curled upward in a crooked smile. “Oh. That.”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “Yes, that.” He pulled out as slowly as he pushed in, making me crazed with need. “You’re my destiny and my haven, Carina.”
I wrapped my legs around his hips. “Ditto. Now shut up and do me.”
A wicked grin lit his face. “Hang on tight, baby.”
“Always, mate of mine. Always.”
Celia lives in California with her husband, daughter, and two feisty cats. She writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance, and has a particular fondness for vampires and the Fae. When not writing, you’ll find her exercising, reading a good book or indulging her addiction to Joss Whedon’s TV shows and movies. Connect with Celia at http://www.celiabreslin.com/ and Twitter @CeliaBreslin
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