Ties That Bind: a New Adult Fantasy Novel (The Spire Chronicles Book 2) (9 page)

Sullivan started the car, and the two men discussed our findings as he drove. From what Alex had told me before – through some very un-sexy pillow talk – mediums could only speak to spirits that were willing. Ethically speaking, of course. They could always force a spirit to pay attention, as long as they didn’t mind the possibility of venomous rebuttal. Ghosts could be really mean if pushed against the wall, especially those that died violent deaths.

Generally, mediums tried to be considerate and didn’t do more than reach out and ask for permission to speak with the ghost they were looking for. This applied to spirits in this world, too, though reapers did a really good job sending souls along. It took a lot of willpower, and regular power, for a ghost to force themselves back into the world of the living.

“All I heard was this sound mixed between a roar and a scream when I asked about her death,” said Alex. “The last memory she had that didn’t upset her was leaving her husband to sneak off and gather herbs.” He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Her name was Alice. She has a two year old son.”

“I’m sure a lot of the victims had families,” Sullivan said flatly. “All the more reason for this whole affair to be settled.”

Look, everyone, it’s Mister Considerate.

Could Fake-Corrigan – seriously, I needed a better name for him – really be behind this? He certainly seemed powerful enough to create magical objects that could leave such a lasting impression, and he obviously didn’t give a shit about pissing in Order territory. Hell, he probably got off on it. Oh God, no, that is not an image I ever needed to see.

I tried to recall the feel of his magic from that night at the factory. He only cast two spells: a binding spell on Ipos and a barrier. I’d been too busy fighting off robed henchmen to notice the former, and the barrier had been too far away for me to glean anything off it. A ritual circle – like the one he set up to break the Spire’s first lock – gave off magical energy based on its nature, not the caster’s, so that couldn’t help me.

It occurred to me that I really knew nothing about the mysterious vampire, besides the fact he wanted to unleash creatures so bad they had to create a special prison for them. In Hell. Like, even Lucifer got better digs than them, and he rebelled against God. So, besides the fact that Fake-Corrigan was a crazy bitch, I had nothing. I should be back on duty, back in New York where I could work some contacts. There’s a big vampire presence there, not to mention plenty of visitors, and someone always knew something about somebody, even if they were an insane, demon worshipping vampire mage.

I wonder if he had that written on his resume.

“Sir Wallace,” I said, “is there any chance you could arrange a meeting with the tribes?”

“I’ve already told you they’ve closed ranks,” he said, pulling into the driveway. “No one is allowed in or out. Not unless they sneak around, like the latest victim.”

“Alice,” I said with an edge to my voice. The least he could fucking do was use her name.

Sullivan paused a beat, taking a deep breath in and out. “It’s been a long day. I’m sure you must be exhausted. Your old room has been prepared. Do you remember where it is?”

“Yes,” I said, biting back five bitchy remarks.

“You two can go on ahead, then. I still have some business to take care of.”

Dismissed, we stepped out of the car and headed inside.

It was as if time had stood still in my old room. My queen-sized bed sat against the middle of the opposite wall, with nightstands on either side. There were bookshelves on the left, and between them was the bay window I used to sit at when I read. To the right was a dresser and a white door which led to the bathroom. I remember the room smelling like jasmine and chocolate, from my mother and my trips to the kitchen, respectively. Now there was only the smell of fabric softener and cold air. It’s felt like this since Mom left. Empty and lifeless, as if all the joy in the house had disappeared along with her.

I took a step back, out of the doorway. “Can I sleep in your room?”

“Of course.” Alex wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we made our way down the hall. “I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Tapping my chin, I made a big show of considering his apology. “I don’t know… You don’t really sound sorry.”

“Is that so?” He grinned, opening the door to reveal a room with dark blue walls and a bed in the right corner. It would be a little cramped, but it’d be nice to snuggle up together. May as well call me Marshmallow with how soft I’ve gotten.

The fireplace on the left roared to life with a wave of my hand, and I eagerly took in the heat as I undressed in front of the flames.

“It is.” I grinned at him over my shoulder. “I suppose I could forgive you, if you told me you actually found something groundbreaking at the scene and just didn’t want to say anything in front of Sullivan.”

He trailed his hands down my sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I guess I’ll have to find another way to apologize.”

“We need to–” I yawned loudly, tears prickling my eyes. I wiped them away, along with the somewhat insane idea of cauterizing my tear ducts. “We need to meet with the tribes and convince them we want to help. With this many deaths, maybe they’ve reconsidered their views on outside help.”

“Or they’ll kill us.”

“Excuse me, I’m supposed to be the negative one.”

“You’re negative and I’m positive, is that it?” he said, his lips grazing against the shell of my ear.

“Well, a positive and a negative make a negative, so maybe it’s better if we’re both negative.”

He chuckled, and I couldn’t help following suit, grinning wider than I had all day. “So, we’re probably gonna die?”

“At least we’ll die together.” I leaned back to kiss his cheek.

Alex turned and captured my lips. His tongue danced against mine, and liquid desire raced through my veins, pooling between my legs. My moan turned into a bitter whine as he pulled away.

There was a thoroughly satisfied and unapologetic grin on his face as he looked down at me. “Sounds like you’re getting soft.”

“Please.” I placed his hands on my stomach. “Hard as steel.”

Okay, I really needed to stop lying to him. This didn’t count, though, because it was obvious that my abs were non-existent. I was still pretty lean – being a hunter didn’t allow the chance to grow a beer belly, but I wouldn’t be winning bodybuilding awards anytime soon.

Alex squeezed my stomach. “I like having something soft to hold onto.”

“Jerk.”

“It’s a compliment.” He gave me a quick peck on the lips. “Now, since you’re almost naked, why don’t you shower while I get us dinner?”

“You can go, but I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure? You haven’t eaten all day.”

“You made us pancakes for breakfast,” I said, prancing over to the bed and hopping onto it. “I’m exhausted, and there’s no way I want to eat after what we just saw. And smelled.”

“You should still eat a little bit. Maybe some fruit or something?”

“I hate fruit on an empty stomach.”

“You hate anything that isn’t fried on any stomach.”

“Actually, I only have one stomach,” I said with a cheeky smile. This time, when he came over and touched me, his hands were warm. I relished the feel of his soft sweater against my body, though I would’ve much preferred his skin. Small victories, I guess. “And you call me soft. Maybe I should call you Marshmallow instead.”

His brows came together, like a little boy who was told he couldn’t have a cookie. “Who do you use that name with now?”

Oh, right. I buried my face in his shoulder and giggled softly. “Never mind. Hey, did you ever hear back from your friend?”

Alex’s body stiffened. I pulled back to see a conflicted expression darkening his face, the wrinkles between his brow etched in deeper than before. “I tried calling him again when Wright led me here. When he didn’t reply, I asked Wright if he knew him.” He sagged against me, and I moved us so we were sitting side by side on the bed. His hair tickled my shoulder as he rested his head there. “Wright said Tom and a few others volunteered to investigate the deaths. They disappeared into the forest two days ago. No one’s heard from them since.”

I hugged him tight. “I’m so sorry. Do you have anything of his? I can try to track him.”

He straightened up, his big blue eyes shining with hope. “Really?”

“Of course.” I stroked his cheek. “I want to help. I don’t like seeing you so upset.”

My cheeks burned at the confession. It made me feel all squirmy inside to admit something so vulnerable, but Alex was important to me. I may have been jumping the gun here – we’ve only known each other for a little over a month. But looking at him now…

I leaned against him. “You’re important to me.”

My back hit the bed before I could even blink. Alex’s lips were firm against mine, a hunger pouring from him into me, like a molten heat overwhelming my insides. I tangled my fingers in his soft dark hair and pulled him closer, pressing our bodies flush against each other.

We only pulled away when the need for air was too great, and I made a note to figure out a magical way to go without oxygen. He trailed butterfly kisses down my jaw, stopping to press his lips against my pulse point.

“Wow,” I breathed. “Is he, like, your best friend or something?”

Another whine escaped me as he pulled back. He chuckled, the sound breathy and warm, and brushed the tip of his nose against mine. “I never really thought about it, but yeah, I guess he is. Like I said before, I was a quiet kid; never really had any friends. Tom was the first one to take an interest. Sure, we were roommates, so it would have been awkward if we ignored each other the entire time, but he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me.”

“Maybe he was into you.”

“Based on the amount of girls he saw every week, I’m gonna say no.”

“Overcompensating.”

“Anyway,” he said, rolling his eyes, “Tom really brought me out of my shell. Not to mention he’s saved my life more times than I can count.”

I tugged gently at the ends of his hair. “You’ve saved him, too, right?”

“It’s not really something you keep score of.”

“I keep track,” I admitted with a bashful smile. “Not like, they owe me four rescues or anything, but I like to remember where we’re all at.”

“You are a scary lady, Miss Morgan.”

“It’s a good thing I like you, then.”

His smile was angelic, and my heart fluttered at the sight. “I like you, too,” he said gently, twirling one of my curls with his index finger. “You’re important to me, too.”

I snorted softly and looked away, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. “Copycat.”

Alex nuzzled my neck before sitting up. I squawked (yes, really) in protest and made grabby hands at him. Unfortunately, he was not swayed by my feminine charms. He stood up, gave one of my grabby hands a squeeze, and announced he was going to get dinner. And yes, I was going to eat something. What a considerate, beautiful nag.

I forced myself up and headed to the bathroom across the hall. There was no way I was going to sleep with death on my hands. After everything I saw and felt tonight, it didn’t seem like I could scrub hard enough. I knew pure evil existed in the world, and though I think I’ve been lucky in avoiding it, I’ve certainly come close a few times. This was one of them. The revelation did nothing but make me feel worse. The water was scalding at this point, and I hoped it would cleanse me with heat despite knowing that was impossible; no one escaped this life unscarred, figuratively or otherwise.

The last angry red marks left by my pseudo-lava shower vanished by the time Alex returned. I managed to hold down the sandwich he brought me, but I had a hard time falling asleep. Too many thoughts were racing through my head. There were so many questions to answer. Too many. I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to resolve everything.

I was right about this bed being a cozy fit. It felt wonderful. Alex’s familiar presence surrounded me, his scent of fresh soap and rain – like spring – bringing me a great deal of comfort as my mind raced. My nose pressed against his chest, and I breathed him in deeply, feeling safer with each passing second.

It felt like I was in the middle of a hurricane, clinging to the wreckage like a bit of flotsam, trying to find clarity in the eye of the storm. I could only hope my waters would calm, mirroring the peaceful waves I saw when I looked over the city this afternoon.

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