Chapter 13 Donovan
THIRTEEN
Donovan
I stop talking when the screech of the wrought iron gate at the front of the house swinging open hits my ears.
I swear I’m holding my breath as I watch the shadow dance down the hall that leads to the courtyard below me, only finally taking in air the moment I see Astra’s form step delicately into view.
The world around me is quiet, and I can’t even remember what I’d been talking about.
Andre trails behind Astra, his arms loaded down with bags, though I don’t shift my attention to look at him fully.
It’s odd how I find comfort in the whole image, but I can’t say why I do.
I don’t care if she has shit to wear or little comforts most might find they need.
I don’t care if she’s happy or feels somewhat settled here.
Yeah, right. Just like you don’t care about how the ache in your chest loosened the moment she came into view.
I’ve never felt any sort of anxiety or frustration like this.
I blame her and the fucking curse for making my head a mess.
If I’m honest, there’s a tiny amount of fear lingering in the background, too.
Fear of what will happen if we stay away from each other for too long.
Yet, I can’t help but wonder how long, how far, I can push that boundary.
She’s been gone for hours, and I haven’t been able to focus on anything during that time.
Torrin picked up my slack, and now he’s here, filling me in on what I need to know.
I think he’s also checking on me. I hate him for it as much as I am grateful for it.
He knows me too well. Which means, when I started to feel the pull of the curse’s symptoms, it didn’t go unnoticed by him.
I stare down at her, wondering if she can feel it too.
As if she senses my eyes on her, she stops halfway through the courtyard and tilts her head back. Her doe eyes connect with mine, pulling me in with such force that I have to lock my body so I don’t jump over the railing to get to her. Her lips part.
All I can think about is claiming her mouth.
I’m thrown back to that night. The sounds she made when I slipped my tongue between her lips and tangled it around hers. The way her body felt under me. The way she gave me a part of herself.
But it wasn’t real.
It’s not real.
It was just one fucking night. One fuck, then I was supposed to walk away. She wasn’t even supposed to be a memory, let alone a fixture in my life. Part of me wonders if she had been playing me that night. If her father didn’t put her up to something, and now we’re just both fucked.
The anger floods my veins, and I can feel my features twisting and pinching before they turn to stone.
The color drains from her face as she snaps her mouth shut. Her feet work quickly as she ducks her head again. I don’t take my eyes off her until she disappears below the floor under me. Even then, I listen for her soft footfalls, finding myself annoyed and shaky when I don’t hear them.
“Are we going to talk about it?” Torrin’s amused voice cuts through the silence.
I clear my throat and stand tall, mentally shaking off whatever the fuck is going on with me as I try my damnedest to remember what I’d been saying before.
Right. Paulie. I had him in my grasp yesterday, and I let him fucking go. If only I knew then what I know now.
I resist the urge to pull up the video my team sent me.
Paulie got into the fucking casino. And how did he do that when I have a pretty fucking good security staff?
By dressing up as one of the barbacks and keeping the hat pulled over his eyes.
I’m still seething over watching him put the bright green poison in Sonny’s water.
Paulie said he has the mayor’s protection, so that only leads me to think that fucking Greely Aubert is somehow behind this.
He’s trying to get to me.
But how far will he go?
My mind goes back to Astra. Then back to Aubert. He wouldn’t… would he?
“We can’t let him get away with—”
Torrin cuts me off with a laugh.
“That’s not what I meant,” he says as he crosses his arms over his chest. He’s not playing around. And I have a feeling what he’s talking about is something I most certainly don’t even want to think about, let alone get into a conversation about.
I grunt, turning my attention back to the darkening courtyard.
The lights begin to flick on, their dim glow making the space below feel more inviting.
I want to grab a glass of bourbon and head down there.
I want to sit in one of the plush chairs and look up at the sky.
I want to smoke endless cigarettes and hide amongst the foliage until I figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do.
But just because I want to doesn’t mean I’ll get to.
“I don’t think she wanted this to happen,” Torrin says, and it’s almost like he’s answering the questions I can’t bring myself to voice. His tone is low enough that I catch it, but I wish I could ignore him.
I guess we’re talking about this.
About her.
“You’re drawn to her,” he points out, causing me to grit my teeth. “When she’s in the same room, you can’t take your eyes off of her. When she’s not here, you’re distracted and practically crawling out of your skin until you lay eyes on her again.”
I release a long breath as I fold over and rest my arms against the cool wrought iron railing.
I don’t have it in me to deny what he said. Besides, we both know it would only be a big fat fucking lie.
“It’s the curse,” I say, not even buying that bullshit.
“Funny,” he says, sarcastic humor in his fucking tone.
If it were anyone else, I’d have them snatched up by the shirt and dangling over the railing.
Hell, with the mood I’m in, I’d likely drop them, and then tell them to walk to the emergency room on their broken legs.
“It wasn’t too long ago you didn’t really believe in curses and magic. ”
“I never said I didn’t believe.”
“There’s a difference between respecting and believing,” he points out. “You respect the craft, but I’m not sure even now you believe it. So… tell me the truth.”
“I don’t know,” I tell him, keeping my focus on the empty courtyard below.
I’m not sure why I can’t look at him, seeing as I’m being as honest as I’d ever be with the person I trusted the most in the world.
“I want her. But I also despise her. I despise the blood that runs through her veins. I despise what she did to me… what she’s turned me into.
I’m disgusted by everything about this situation, yet I wouldn’t go back. I wouldn’t change what I did.”
I smirk as I remember how tight she was when I slid inside her. Her pussy felt like it was made for me, and I’d wanted nothing more than to claim her. I wanted to mark her. Hell, a secret part of me wished I would have taken her with me when I left that fucking house that night.
See, even then, she had been fucking with my head.
“Are you even going to try to fix it?” he asks me. His tone is so casual that it grates on my nerves. It makes me feel like he has the situation all figured out, while I’m over here floundering and sputtering, trying to come up with the first goddamn step.
My arms straighten, my hand grasping the rough iron banister to the point my knuckles turn white.
I still refuse to look at him as I blow out a long breath.
I know that if I turn and see the smug look I have no doubt is plastered on his face, I’ll lose it.
He’ll end up with a broken nose, and I’ll end up pissed off at myself for the next few hours.
He’s truly all I have left in this world, and picking a fight with him when I need him the most would not be the best move.
Still, there’s a fire inside of me that I can’t snuff out.
And I have every reason to believe it has to do with her.
“Well, for starters,” he says, and I cut my eyes over at him.
His shoulders shake with a silent laugh before he goes on.
“You could do a better job of not making her feel like she’s an unwanted prisoner trapped here.
” I open my mouth, but he shakes his head at me.
Why do I put up with this? I’ll never know.
“You want her here or else you’d have every witch within the city limits here trying to reverse the curse. ”
“It can’t be done,” I argue like a toddler. I don’t know if this is true, but it feels like it is. “Besides, I have Fabien on it. It’s not like I know any other witches, anyway.” Not helping my case at all.
“It wouldn’t stop you from exhausting all efforts if you really wanted to be rid of her,” he tosses back.
I press my lips into a thin line. He’s right.
I can’t even deny it. I stand tall and head for the doorway to my office.
I go straight for the bar in the corner and pour myself two fingers of bourbon.
As I down it, I hear Torrin closing the French doors, shutting us in a room that suddenly feels like it has no air.
It isn’t a second later that they go flying open again with the force of a small tornado.
I whirl around, hand reaching for my gun, just barely grazing the cold metal before I realize it’s a fired-up Astra coming at me and not a threat.
Well, maybe saying she’s not a threat isn’t exactly right, especially given the look in her eyes as she heads straight for me.
Torrin—hell, the world—is all but forgotten as she steps up to me and pops the button on my white shirt. I’m frozen stiff, staring down at her. Cold, delicate fingers touch my skin, and I suppress the shiver threatening to run down my spine. She’s touching my chest, my heart.
The strain and fatigue leave my body. The small aches burrowing into my bones begin to ease.
She feels it too, I can see it in her struggling gaze. As the pain recedes, her eyes become more focused.
I’m not sure it’s a good thing since she looks like she could cut me with her stare.
Her chest heaves with a heavy inhale.
“I’m not your prisoner,” she tells me, and I raise a brow at her. “I can’t run from you. You feel it. I know you do. I’m not ready to die, so until we figure this out, you have to trust that I will always come back to you.”
I get stuck on the last part. My eyes are glued to her lips as she speaks them, and I hate myself for committing it to memory.
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” she goes on, and I growl. I don’t trust her, so no way in hell am I letting her out to run around alone. She knows too fucking much. “I have to figure out some things, and I can’t do that with your men breathing down my neck. Do you understand me?”
“I would watch my tone if I were you,” I warn, threat sharp as I stare into her eyes. “Not many talk to me like that and live to see the light of a new day.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she says boldly.
I guess she’s smart enough to realize I can’t kill her without dooming myself.
Fuck, she’s got me there. “Fine, don’t trust me, but realize if I tell anyone anything, and I mean anything that I know, it will hurt me too.
We can’t figure this out if you’re in jail. ”
Well, she has me again.
“Fine,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
Her lips part as if she’s ready for round two of this argument. Realizing that’s not the case, she simply blinks up at me.
“Thank you,” she says after a long moment. She reluctantly steps back, her hand slowly sliding away from my skin. Her throat bobs with a swallow as she nods at me once. Then she turns and walks back out the way she came. “And thank you for all the things today.”
She’s out of sight before I can respond, not that I have the first clue what to say. I don’t want her thanking me. I don’t fucking want her thinking she’s got a special part of me. That she can get away with things other people can’t because she somehow means more to me.
She doesn’t.
I can’t let her mean more.
Torrin is chuckling under his breath. I turn to glower at him. He’s on the couch in the middle of the room, staring at me like this is all a fucking show. His arm is lazily draped along the back.
“Have her for dinner,” he says like we’re in the middle of some casual conversation. “And be nice while you eat.”
I snort and turn to pour another two fingers.
I leave the glass on the polished surface this time, absently spinning it with my finger and thumb.
What the hell just happened?