Authors: Linda Thomas-Sundstrom Nancy Holder Chris Marie Green
The mansion doors opened as they approached, and heady, sensual scents wafted toward them: ginger and jasmine and sandalwood. They walked across the threshold into a magnificent bower of hundreds if not thousands of exquisite flowers. Three wicker high-backed chairs appeared around a wicker table laden with liquor bottles, glasses and ice, and a heaping tray of Cuban sandwiches.
“Unless you would prefer champagne and hors d’oeuvres,” Xavier said.
“Are you kidding? This sucker’s mine,” Bridget said, reaching for a bottle of Scotch.
Xavier got to it first. He opened it and handed it to her. She took a long pull and handed it to Colin, who did the same. The fiery liquor spread through her veins and took the edge off, just a little. After a moment’s hesitation, Colin passed it to Xavier, who threw back, then pressed it into Bridget’s hand. Then he gave Colin a fresh bottle, and selected a bottle of rum for himself.
The three sank into the high-back chairs. Bridget held on tightly to her bottle to conceal how badly her hands were shaking. She’d reached her limit of bizarreness long before Xavier’s return from the dead.
“Let me explain, before you burst,” Xavier said, looking at her. “I’m not sure what you know, so be patient. I was married last Samhain to Maria del Carmen Caracol of the House of the Devil. The Caracols are our enemies. We are the Amayas, of the House of the Spirit.”
“Like I said, superpowers,” Colin muttered under his breath. Bridget wasn’t certain that Xavier heard him.
“Marica stole a crystal like the one I handed you in the helicopter. Her family believes it belongs to them, but there are actually three crystals. They don’t know about the other two. We had two, and we’ve been looking for the third. Now we have one, and they have one.
“And all three of them can be used for a number of things, including time travel,” he continued.
He paused, as if to let that sink in. Bridget gaped at him as she put two and two together.
“You’re from the past. You’re from before you died.”
He inclined his head. “That’s one way of looking at it. But time can be very confusing. Do you know what day this is?”
“November first,” she replied, and he shook his head.
“Samhain. Again. What you call Halloween,” he explained to Colin. “We have all gone back in time.”
“No way,” Colin protested. “I was never here on Halloween. Marica came over to my house to get ready for Bridge’s party.”
“When was that?” Xavier asked.
“Around nine. In her Jag.”
“It’s eight-thirty,” Xavier said, glancing at a Rolex Bridget hadn’t noticed before. “She hasn’t shown up yet, and you won’t be there. Because you’re here.” He gestured to Colin’s bottle. “You look like you could use another drink.”
Colin glanced over at Bridget. “Think I’ll slow down.”
“You’re still married to Marica,” Bridget ventured. “And…not me.”
“And that’s what we need to talk about. That marriage will soon end. And I’ll be free to marry again.” Xavier leaned forward in his chair. She remembered the softness of his lips when he kissed her, the promise—or was it the threat?—of passion to come.
“Dude, you are
not
getting anywhere near my sister,” Colin growled. “We’re getting the hell out of here.”
“It’s not up to you,” Xavier said, gazing at Bridget. “Your sister is the older twin. In magic, she is the more powerful. And the leader.”
Despite herself, Bridget guffawed and Xavier grinned at her. “You have my sympathies. I’m an older sibling, too.”
“Whatever,” she said curtly, trying not to fall under the spell of his intense charisma. Colin had gotten them into this mess by succumbing to Marica’s wiles. She wasn’t going to plunge them right back in by doing the same thing.
“You turned the day back,” she said. “So now Marica doesn’t know Colin has a twin and she is never going to.” She gave her brother a look. “California’s nice.”
“I love it already,” he affirmed. “We’ll send for our stuff later.”
“This isn’t our war,” Bridget said, screwing the top back on her bottle and setting it on the table. “We got sucked into this by accident. We’re done.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Colin said.
“But it is your war. You’re Favored. You have magical power, and someone is going to use it if you don’t. Use
you
,” Xavier warned.
“Here we go again,” Bridget said with asperity. “We already got this sales talk from Leo.”
He jerked at the name. “Leo was there? You met him?”
I had sex with him
, she thought, then picked up a sandwich so he wouldn’t be able to read the expression on her face. It wasn’t so much that she felt she had to answer to him. It was just…she didn’t want him to know.
“I think Leo and I could have been good allies,” Xavier said wistfully.
She raised a brow. “He said the same thing about you.”
He looked startled, and she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. She didn’t want to entangle herself in their drama.
“His sister is psycho,” Colin said. “Why the hell did you marry her, bro?”
She winced at the “bro.” She started to stand up when Xavier put his and over hers. “I need to talk to you alone.”
“Not happening.” Colin glowered at him. “And take your hand off her or I’ll break it.”
“Colin,wait,” Bridget said. “He gave you back your leg. And your eye.”
“Bribes. Go ahead. Take ‘em back.”
“I never will,” Xavier said, not letting go of Bridget. “Please. We have to talk.”
“Colin, It’s okay,” she said.
“Bullshit,” he spat.
“Go,” she insisted.
Swearing, Colin hefted himself out of the chair and stomped away. When he was out of earshot, Bridget yanked her hand away from Xavier.
“If you take his leg away, I’ll take something of
yours
away. And unless ‘Favored’ means more than I think it does, you won’t have one left.”
He laughed. Then he said calmly, “How did Leo persuade you to have sex with him?”
“Excuse me?” she blurted. She felt her cheeks stain scarlet.
“My father told me that when you first came to us, you were a virgin in the sense of magical powers. And now you aren’t. The Favored world is different from yours,” he said gently. “We don’t view sex as an expression of love. Pleasure is power.”
“Yeah, well, welcome to the twenty-first century,” she said, fighting to get rid of the heat on her skin. “I’m not sure how many people see it as an expression of love either, nowadays.”
He looked intrigued. “You’re a romantic.”
“What I am doesn’t matter.”
“All you would be giving up is the illusion of a limited life,” he said. “There’s so much you’d be able to do once I showed you how. Conjuring. Some of us have premonitions. As it is, you will age very slowly, and there will be questions.” From somewhere on the table, he put a glass of red wine to his lips. “I’m older than I look.”
“Thirty-five,” she guessed, and his eyes twinkled.
“A hundred and fifty-seven.”
“Holy shit.”
“I’ve always felt sorry for Untouched. They burn out so quickly. Since you and Colin are twins, you’ll probably age even more slowly than us.” He sipped his wine. “There’s nothing you can do to be Untouched, Bridget. You’re Favored, and you always will be.”
“No one else will know about us,” she insisted. “You took care of that for us.”
“The thing about changing time is that there may be pieces of the old reality that leak through. My family was briefed on what was going to happen tonight. Desperate times require desperate measures.”
“These are times that try men’s souls,” she riposted. But she was startled to realize that she remembered all of it—the before and the after. Was that normal? How much would change now that she and Colin had Halloween to relive?
“You know what I want.” He leveled his gaze at her. “To marry you before the last stroke of midnight tonight. My family needs this alliance. We need fresh blood, both magically and physically. And we can help you. You and your brother are alone.”
“What do you mean, ‘physically’?” she cut in, and he looked pained.
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“But you did.”
He was quiet for a moment, as if trying to make a decision. Finally, he nodded, and took another sip of wine.
“We Favored are dying out,” he said plainly. “We don’t get along—we’re all too strong-willed—and we hardly ever marry outside our Houses. We have children ever more rarely than that. Even before all our wars, we were inbreeding too much. And—”
“Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She held up her hands.
“I didn’t mean to imply that I wanted to have a child together,” he said. But it was written all over his face that that was exactly what he’d been talking about.
“You’re such a bullshitter.” She was indignant. “Is
that
how you’re going to help poor Colin and me? Use me as breeding stock?”
“No,” he said. “Absolutely not.”
“Just zap me and alakazam! I’m pregnant?”
A smile played on his lips. “Not by
zapping
you. No worries, Bridget. Favored women control the reproductive process. You can’t have a baby by accident. You have to will it to happen. Just you. Not me.”
“So you say.”
“Marry me for one year,” he said. “Live here, where you’ll be safe. You and Colin both. We’ll teach you how to use your powers. We’ll protect you.”
“And when you and the Caracols go after each other again, you’ll deploy your secret weapons the Flynn kids. Just like they wanted to do.”
He looked at her long and hard. She could almost hear the seconds ticking as a chasm of silence formed between them. What was it about his eyes that was so hypnotic? What would it be like to go to bed with a guy who could turn back time and keep himself from dying? Had kept her and Colin from dying?
“That was my intent,” he confessed. “My hope. My family’s hope. But no. I’ll take it off the table. For this year marriage, my gift to you will be peace and shelter. And discovery. I’ll show you what you are, and what you can become.”
He held out his hand, simply, an entreaty, a pledge. “Or I’ll help you leave. I’ll shield you so you can run away and I will never bother you again. If that’s what you want.”
It’s not running away
, she thought, but she knew, deep in her heart, that he was right. They were something else. Something they hadn’t known they were, or wanted to be.
“Just for one year,” he said. “And once it’s done, we’re done. Unless you feel differently by then.”
“I probably won’t,” she informed him flatly.
“Pity.” His voice was soft, his word tender. “I already do.”
“I know you want me to make up my mind fast,” she said. “Like last time. Wait. I’m not jumping over a bonfire.”
“You have until the last stroke of midnight. And there won’t be any bonfire. Not this time.” He picked up a simple white taper in a candleholder where none had been before. He took her hand in his, and passed them both above the flame. “If we do this again at the proper time, with the proper incantations, we’ll be married.”
His hand was large and his grip strong. Ginger and jasmine mingled with candle wax. And as the flames were reflected in his eyes, a sharp, deep stab of pleasure shuddered through her body. Light emanated from his face and she felt her skin go even warmer all over. His brows raised and he looked very pleased.
“You’re glowing with desire, Red Hair. For me,” he whispered. “I’ll bring you so much pleasure, Bridget. I’ll share my power, and my spells. I’ll teach you our ways—your ways. If you wish, I’ll take you back in time. If you decide not to renew our marriage, you and your brother can live
when
you want.”
“Where’s the other crystal?” she asked suddenly, looking for the catch, the trap. “The third one?”
He shook his head. “We don’t know. Maybe the Caracols have it. Maybe someone else.”
Jack’s image mushroomed in her head again. She looked down at the candle flame and said nothing about it. Whatever that was all about, she needed to put it on hold. There were too many steps to take at the moment to get from here to Jack—if he was a destination at all. Xavier was right. She needed safe harbor now.
And besides, the glow from Xavier’s face bathed her in a dizzying, pleasing light, tempting her to draw closer. To touch him.
Feel him.
“What about the deep freeze in the bathroom? Your ghost tried to kill me. Plus it warned me.”
So did it try to kill me?
“I told you. That wasn’t me. As best as I can tell, someone hijacked my appearance and sent it to you. They must have used someone dead to penetrate the Caracol defense line. It was Samhain, when the dead walk. Or maybe it was the Caracols themselves. We can find out the answers to these questions more easily if we’re married.”
“
If
,” she emphasized.
“If,” he agreed. Then he reached out an arm as if he were going to gather up her hair, and instead wrapped his hand around the flame, to keep it from blowing out. “This moment between you and me is very fragile,” he said. “And you have no reason to trust me. But it’s Samhain, the night for bold moves and new alliances. So there’s hope that you’ll say yes.”
“You really think that?”
Two flutes of champagne nested in a profusion of gold, silver, and white ribbons on the table. She recognized the ribbons from their previous marriage rite, when Xavier’s father had tied and knotted their wrists together.
“I really think that,” he said.
“You’re cocky.”
“I’m
Gitano.
Gypsy. My family is old and powerful. I have a lot to offer you, Bridget Flynn. And you need someone on your side. You need that more than you know.”
“I’ve gotten the message, thanks,” she shot back. “I just wish I had more time to figure it all out.”
“Is that a real wish?” he said softly, in a silken, sexy voice. Then, before she could answer, the sphere appeared on the table and began to pulsate and swirl.
“Wait,” she said, alarmed. “Xavier, hold off.”
“Don’t be afraid. Never be afraid of me.”
Then he enfolded her in his arms, and his lips found hers. And it was the best, most amazing kiss she had ever had in her entire life. Of their own accord, her arms wrapped around his neck as she kissed him back, losing herself in delicious, overwhelming sensation.