Extraits

But I was out. I had to talk to my mom, and it was going to take more than two security guards in tuxes to stop me. Why hadn’t she told me? I thought, my palms sweating and my stomach clenched. Why hadn’t my crazy, loony mother told me?

The tires squealed as I took the turns, and once on the three-mile drive out of here, I started to get scared. Was the reason she hadn’t told me because she was a little nuts, or was she a little nuts because she was too afraid to tell me?

Quen had taken something. Something that likely had tampered with his genetic structure or he’d be in a hospital. Fear slid through me as I imagined the horrors that Trent was capable of in his genetic labs, and unable to wait anymore, I turned to the door Dr. Anders had looked at. “He’s in there?” I asked, then headed for it, my pace quick and determined.

She was smiling thinly when she brought her gaze to mine, and I couldn’t help but meet it with my own weak version. “There is, isn’t there,” she said. Her posture shifted, and she exhaled long and slow. “Thank you,” she whispered. I froze when she hesitantly touched my arm and then drew back. “Thank you for being honest.”

Thank you? I stared at her. “I thought you’d be pissed.”

My life is going to change with the creation of light, I thought. Gut clenched, I said, “Lenio cinis,” while watching my fingers awkwardly make the invocation movement. The two had to be simultaneous, otherwise the air would burn up and snuff the spell before the connection spell to bring in more energy to burn was in place. At least, that was the theory.

Anxious, I held my breath and watched the sphere flash before settling to a steady burn. “Oh, my God!” I squeaked when a dropping sensation plinked through me and settled to a steady flow. The power keeping the globe burning rushed through me, and I reached to steady myself against the dresser. I couldn’t take my eyes off the burning sphere.

My mother stopped in the long green hallway, surrounded by pictures of my and Robbie’s lives, images of the past that she drew strength from. I could see a masculine shadow moving outside on the steps, but my mother put herself right in front of me, filling my world. I was unable to look away from the old regret in her eyes.

“That is exactly why you need to go out with him,” she said, her grip on my shoulder tightening to keep me silent. “Prep your spells later. You’re strung out to the snapping point, sweetheart. You need to do something different to give your mind a rest, and Marshal is a good man. He’s not going to break your heart or take advantage of you. Just…go do something with him. Anything.” Her mouth quirked. “Well, maybe not anything.”

I knew she wouldn’t say the entire thing. Let me take this. Give this to me. Asking permission was so ingrained into living vampires that if she didn’t, she would think she had blood-raped me even if I cut myself and bled into her mouth. I gazed into her pupil-black eyes, seeing her desperate need raw and unhidden instead of the impassive face she usually showed the world. A last strike of fear lit through me at the chance I was taking. A memory of her biting me almost to death in Kisten’s van rose and fell. I could feel the tension in her where we touched: her right hand on my shoulder, her left at my back, one hip drifting close to mine. She wouldn’t overstep the bounds and would keep the sex out of it. If she didn’t, I’d be gone and she knew it. It was a cruel game she played with herself, but I think she hoped that if she waited long enough, I’d come to her.

A flash of jealousy passed over Ivy, dying fast. Rynn Cormel saw both its birth and death, and when he met my gaze, I knew he realized Ivy and I had already set up the rules for our relationship—and those rules included other people. Most vampiric relationships did, though that did nothing for my sense of morality.

“I’ll see you about sunrise,” she said, and the master vampire’s eyebrows rose. Ivy gave me a tight-lipped smile and turned to Rynn Cormel.

The buzzing of my vibrating phone cut through the pixy chatter, and they all flew up and away when I stretched to reach my bag on the nearby couch. As I lay almost flat, my fingers brushed my bag and I yanked it down. I sat up with an exhalation, flipping my hair back and digging out my phone. The number was unfamiliar. Marshal’s landline, maybe?

“Hi,” I said casually, seeing as it was my cell and not the business phone. Realizing I was covered in pixy dust, I slapped at my jeans to get it off.

The last was said rather dryly, and I couldn’t help my rueful smile as Trent studied his reflection, clearly not pleased with what he saw. I understood completely. Though mild mannered most times, when Ceri set her mind to something, she was quietly adamant, then aggressively so if she didn’t get her way. She had been born into royalty, and I had a feeling that apart from having to be submissive to Al when she was his familiar, she had pretty much ruled the rest of his household. Until her mind had broken and she lost the will to do anything at all.

Trent was watching me when I met his gaze, clearly bewildered at my fond smile. Shrugging, I ate another cracker. “What are her chances for a healthy baby?” I asked, wondering how guilty I was going to have to feel about my refusal to go into the ever-after.

Wondering how David knew I didn’t have a coffee date when I hadn’t even told him I had one to begin with, I shuffled into the bathroom and quietly shut the door to keep everyone who was sleeping, sleeping. It was nearing the golden hour of noon when the church went silent—Ivy and me asleep and the pixies just settling down for their four-hour nap.

Hanging on the back of the door, my costume thumped, and I quieted it, listening for the hum of pixy wings. I fingered the supple leather in the silence, hoping I would get a chance to wear it. I was pretty much church-bound after dark until I nailed whoever was sending Al after me. And Halloween wasn’t a holiday to be missed.