Chapter 22
22
brOGAN
T he streets were quiet, the kind of stillness that only comes in the dead hours right before dawn. My boots scuffed against the pavement as I walked, the rhythmic sound doing nothing to drown out the thoughts gnawing at my mind.
Esme’s scent clung to my clothes, and I could still taste her on my tongue. Feel the delicious warmth of her blood as it slid down my throat and filtered through my cells. I groaned aloud as my body hardened, already wanting her again. Only I wanted all of her this time, not just her blood. And the hardest thing I’d ever done was leave her at the door of her apartment and walking away once I knew she was safe inside.
I still hadn’t told her everything. I couldn’t.
Every time I'd tried, the words lodged in my throat like a stake. How could I tell her that her blood was the only thing keeping me alive now? That every other vein I’d try to drink from would taste like ashes on my tongue? Like the blonde she saw me with at the club. And even if I did manage to choke it down, no other blood would nourish me, and I'd eventually die a long, drawn-out death. Who the hell was I to put all of that on her?
Through no fault of her own, my life was literally over without her now. But the funny thing was, I didn't even care about that part. Hell, I’ll welcome death with open arms if Esme doesn't want to be with me. Because even before the mating bond, before a drop of her blood had touched my tongue, I was falling for her.
And silly as it might sound, I couldn't imagine a world without her in it anymore.
Walking back to her place, I'd felt her staring at me with those dark, piercing eyes, her sweet lips parted in confusion before she'd look away again, unable to ask what she didn’t want to know. And I’d kept my damn mouth shut, unable to answer the questions in her eyes because neither one of us was ready for the answer.
Frustration burned within me, mostly with myself, and I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket. I wasn't being fair to her, and I knew it. But I couldn't bring myself to do anything about it.
I traced a path through the French Quarter, no destination in mind except "away." The ironwork balconies loomed above, shadows of their intricate patterns stretching across cobblestones in the light of the street lamps, making me feel trapped in a cage of my own making.
A man stumbled out of a bar a few doors down, the reek of vodka rolling off him in waves. My fangs sharpened instinctively, my body craving the hunt, but my stomach lurched at the scent of his alcohol-filled blood and I veered around him, eager to get the hell out of there before I did something stupid.
"Fuck," I muttered, raking my hand through my hair as I took off at a jog down the sidewalk until I got far enough away that I couldn’t smell him anymore.
My whole existence after leaving the cult had been defined by control—specifically over anything and everything that was taken away from me as a human. Now, all that control was being stripped away. And here I was, brought down by a woman with midnight eyes that still held way too many secrets for my comfort.
I should hate it—this cosmic joke that tied my existence to hers without my consent. But I didn't. Instead, I felt…relief. Relief that I finally had a name for this hurricane of feelings sweeping me away. Relief that I wasn't completely losing my humanity.
Fate, Killian called it. Like a damn fairytale, or one of Kenya's romance novels, a happy ending I didn't know that I deserved.
The street lights flickered as I passed under them, their pale glow casting long shadows on the cracked sidewalks. And the farther away I walked, the tighter the connection between me and Esme grew, pulling me toward her, even as I traveled in the opposite direction.
Why hadn’t I told her how it wasn’t me that had chosen her, but fate? Because she’d look at me with pity? Horror? Or worse, because she’d see it as a weakness she could exploit? Immediately, I shook my head, trying to dislodge that thought.
And yet, the doubt lingered.
With some effort, I pushed my own shit aside and let my mind wander back to the cemetery where I'd found Esme. I'd left The Purple Fang immediately after my performance tonight, much to the disappointment of the ladies who'd made a return visit just to see me. But I had no desire to hang around flirting with them like I used to. Especially not after last night.
With Esme's blood still singing through my veins, I'd found her easily as she was leaving the graveyard. The spicy sweet scent of her blood was stronger than usual and hit me as soon as I got close enough. And that was all it took to empty my mind of anything but getting a taste of her.
But now, with my head a little clearer, questions were rising to the surface like bodies in a bayou, and I paused mid-stride. Whatever she'd been doing, remnants of magic made the air around her feel...wrong. Charged. Like the moment before lightning strikes, but darker somehow. The hairs on my arms had risen, my skin prickling with an awareness that went beyond my vampire senses.
Power.
That's what I'd felt. Raw, ancient power swirling around her, clinging to her skin like smoke before it gradually drifted away on the breeze. I'd encountered witches before—hell, three members of my family were mated with them now—but this was different. This felt like old magic. Magic that was here before witches even knew what they were.
A chill shivered down my spine that had nothing to do with the night air. The smell of copper and earth still lingered in my nostrils, along with something else. Something burnt and sharp, like ozone mixed with ash.
When I saw her standing there, her hand dripping with blood, I’d been so consumed with desire that I'd pushed it aside, focused only on the taste of her, the need to crush her body against mine. But now? Now I couldn't ignore it.
I was bound to a woman whose power scared the shit out of me. And I wasn't just nervous-scared. I was honestly a bit terrified. A woman I didn't know near as well as I thought I did. A woman who was hiding things from me.
Pausing on the corner, I frowned as the downstairs lights of the house I shared with my coven glowed in the distance. My fingers tightened around the keys in my pocket until they cut into my palm.
Fuck.
I couldn’t keep walking away from this. From her. But I didn’t know how to face it either.
The wind picked up, carrying the faint scent of rain. Lifting my chin, I tilted my head back, staring up at the heavens, the stars obscured by clouds. There was no answer out there either, no divine guidance. Nothing to help me.
When my skin prickled with warning that dawn was coming, I let myself into the courtyard and pushed open the backdoor to the house. I was met with the low hum of conversation as I stepped inside. Pausing in the foyer to take off my jacket, I steeled myself to face my family.
Killian’s voice carried from the living room, cutting through the many different conversations.
“Jesse, Shea, Ryan, and Christian will be here late tomorrow night.”
I stepped into the living room, my boots silent on the old carpet. Not that it mattered, I could guarantee they all already knew I was here. Killian stood near the fireplace, hands in the pockets of the cream-colored sweater he wore over his black shirt and jeans, his expression unreadable. Lizzy sat in the chair closest to him with Wiggles squeezed in beside her, and judging by the sound of his soft snores, the commotion in the room wasn’t bothering him one bit.
Dae and Elias were sprawled on either end of the couch, their usual banter absent, and Angel and Jamal stood against the back wall in Jamal's normal spot. Even Kenya seemed tense, perched on the other armchair across from Lizzy with her legs tucked beneath her. Her warlock mate was the only one missing.
“Brogan,” Killian said, nodding when he saw me. His gaze lingered for a moment too long, and I knew he was assessing me, reading the state of my mind. I avoided his eyes, not that it would help. He could barge into my head anytime he wanted and there would be very little I could do to stop him. “Where’s Esme?”
“Home,” I told him. “So what’s the plan?” I asked, before he could see too much.
Killian narrowed his eyes at me, then faced the room again and continued. “I'll meet them at the airport and bring them here, then we'll decide our next move. I'd appreciate it if two of ye would give up your rooms for our guests, unless they'd rather stay at a hotel.”
Me, Elias, and Dae all nodded. We could crash at the club if needed. We had cots in the storeroom.
"Why are they staying here?" Jamal asked.
"Because the witches are staying out of this one," Angel told him as she shared a look with Lizzy.
I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over my chest, trying to pretend I wasn’t completely distracted with my own shit. The silence was heavy as everyone turned to look at Angel, waiting for her to continue.
Her eyes traveled from person to person before she sighed heavily and finally gave us an answer. "Judy’s decided the coven won’t involve themselves this time since Marcus hasn’t made himself known to anyone but Esme,” she said, her voice calm but firm. "She says it’s too risky."
"Risky?" Dae snorted from the couch, lounging back with his usual careless posture. Then he shrugged. "Well, she's not wrong."
I interrupted the conversation. “It wasn’t just Esme. Dae and I were with her. We felt him, too.”
“That’s not what she’s talking about,” Lizzy told me. “She means when Marcus went to Esme’s apartment.”
What the hell did she just say? “He was at Esme’s apartment??” I glanced around the room to see if I was the only one hallucinating. “When the fuck did this happen?”
“Watch yer tone, Brogan.”
My eyes shifted to Killian. “When did this happen? And why don’t I know about it?”
“She told us at Lizzy’s shop when our coven met with her,” Angel told me. “Apparently, he was inside when she got home and he told her if she didn’t find his damn book he was going to kill everyone she cared about. Or something like that.”
Shoving myself off the doorway, I headed for the back door. Jesus Christ! I’d just left her at her apartment by herself! My heart beat hard and heavy, trying to break through my ribs as fear wrapped its sour tendrils around my lungs, suffocating me.
“Brogan!” Jamal called. “Where are you going? You won’t get out of the fucking courtyard, man. The sun is up.”
But I barely heard him. The roar of a freight train filled my skull and the world narrowed down to the door in front of me. I grabbed the doorknob, and nearly ripped the damn thing off its hinges.
Suddenly steel bands wrapped around my chest, hauling me back from the sun. At the same time, I was hit hard from the side and thrown into the wall.
Next thing I knew I was on my back on the floor and someone was screaming in my head over the roaring in my ears. Pure rage exploded inside of me, and I bared my fangs with a hiss, ready to fight whatever the hell was holding me down.
Someone was calling my name, but I couldn’t stop. I had to get to her.
“Brogan! Snap the hell out of it!”
The back of my head bounced off the floor as pain exploded in my jaw. I roared with frustration, held down and unable to fight back. With the next hit, I saw stars. But when they cleared, the world around me came back into focus.
“Yer Esme is alright,” Killian told me. “She’s alright! If she wasn’t, ye’d know it.”
“I don’t know that,” I growled.
“There he is,” Jamal said. Rolling off of me, he got to his feet. “Damn, man. You’re stronger than you look.”
Killian and Dae also got up, but I stayed on the floor until one of them grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet.
“What the hell are you trying to do?” Dae asked me. “You can’t save her if you burn yourself alive.”
“You’ll understand someday,” Killian told him.
“I hope not.”
With wild eyes, I found Killian. “I just left her at her place. ALONE.”
He grabbed my shoulders. “Focus! What are your instincts telling you, lad?”
I shook my head.
“Brogan! Focus! And tell me what ye feel. Other than yer own panic, is there anything inside of you telling ye Esme isn’t at home, safe and sound in her bed?” His eyes bored into mine as he projected a state of calm into me.
“No.” I shook my head again. “No, I don’t feel anything.”
“Then yer mate is fine.”
Lizzy appeared behind him. “Angel and I will go check on her as soon as we’re done here.”
Killian’s head whipped around. “No, ye will not .”
But she just smiled at him. “Yes. Yes, we will.” Then she turned on her heel and returned to the sitting room.
Killian cocked his head as he watched her walk away. “Come on, lad. There’s nowhere ye can go right now. Let’s finish this up so they can go check on yer mate.”
Left with no choice, I returned to the sitting room.
Like nothing had happened, Lizzy sat in her chair and leaned forward, her dark eyes flickering with frustration as she picked up the conversation where it left off. "It makes no sense. If he’s back, it's not just for Esme. He'll be coming for Alice and Alex, too. And what about this book he’s looking for? There has to be a reason he wants it so badly. And that reason can’t be good. That makes it our problem too, not just the vampires." Looking up at Killian, she told him, "I told her I wanted to help Esme, whether the coven is on it or not."
"If Judy has made that call," Killian said, "it's within her rights to do so. But ye, acushla ," he stared Lizzy down, "are going nowhere near that thing.” He turned back to the room. “Judy’s job is to protect her coven, not throw them into a fight they might not survive. And we need to respect that decision, just as I hope they’d do for us were the situation reversed.”
“What about Esme?" I shot back, my voice rising. "She’s one witch against a djinn who’s already killed her family. And we’re just going to let her handle it alone because the witches—the only ones who might stand a chance against this thing—are too scared to get involved?"
"She’s not alone," Lizzy said quietly, her eyes meeting mine. "She has us. And she has you, whether you’ve admitted it to yourself or not."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. “I’ve come to terms with what she is to me.” Then I looked away for a moment, my jaw tightening. “But I’m not enough. I can’t protect her from this. You're not enough, either. And Angel's had her magic stripped, not that she'd help us against Marcus." It was a low blow, and I knew it. She'd only helped him because Mike's life was in danger if she didn't. Hell, it still was.
"Hey!" Jamal pushed off the wall and glared at me, his fists clenched at his sides before he pointed a finger in my direction. “You have something to say about my mate? Say it to me.”
Angel’s voice cut through the tension, calm but firm, as she restrained her mate with a hand on his arm. "Judy’s decision isn’t about abandoning Esme—it’s about protecting the people she’s responsible for. And like Killian said, we have to respect that, even if we don’t like it or agree with it."
"But—"
"No," Killian interrupted, his tone final. "The witches are out. I imagine Judy will keep a close eye on Alex and Alice while we deal with this ourselves. And the others are on their way."
"Jesse couldn't beat him last time," Elias argued.
"That's because Marcus had help," Killian reminded him with no censure in his tone and with a stern look in my direction. No one looked at Angel, but Jamal wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back against him. Killian was right. She'd been a victim, just like the rest of us, and I shouldn’t be taking my mood out on her.
"Sorry," I told her. "I didn't mean?—"
She cut me off before I could finish. "It's all right."
I gave her a nod. Now would be a great fucking time for her to have access to her magic again.
Killian’s sharp gaze swept over the room, silencing the low murmurs that had started. “Enough,” he said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “We’ll get nowhere discussing business that isn't ours. The witches are out. We deal with this ourselves. There's nothing else we can do.”
The room fell quiet as the gravity of the situation sank in. I retreated to the doorway and leaned against it, crossing my arms and ankles so I didn't launch myself across the room at Killian. He wasn't the one I was angry at either. No, that fight was with myself. Not him.
And maybe Esme for keeping secrets from me.
“As I said, Jesse, Shea, Ryan, and Christian will be here tomorrow night,” Killian continued. “And as a half djinn himself, Jesse has a better chance than anyone at beating his father, so let's just wait for them before we continue this discussion. Until then, I want everyone to get some rest. We’ll need clear heads for what’s coming.”
Kenya stood first, stretching her arms above her head before giving Killian an encouraging smile. Jamal and Angel followed, heading toward the backdoor to go to Jamal's guesthouse. Lizzy lingered for a moment, her dark eyes flicking to me before she picked up Wiggles and followed Dae after kissing Killian.
"I'll be there in a moment," he told her.
When only me, Killian, and Elias were left, Killian fixed his golden eyes on me. “What happened with ye and yer witch?”
"Why would you think something happened?"
"Because ye're here." He pointedly looked around the room. "And she's not."
Elias looked back and forth between the two of us. "What's going on?"
Killian raised his eyebrows. "Do ye want to tell him? Or shall I?"
"Tell me what?" Elias asked me.
When I didn't immediately answer, Killian sat down in the chair Lizzy had vacated and leaned back, casually crossing his legs. "Everyone will know very soon. Ye might as well tell him."
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to dislodge Killian’s stare as I faced my friend. Elias continued to watch me, his brow furrowed in confusion. Shit. I didn’t want to say it out loud. Once he knew, it would make it real, and I didn’t know if I was ready for that. But Killian wouldn’t let this go.
I cleared my throat, my voice coming out rougher than I intended when I admitted. “I think Esme’s my mate.”
Killian snorted. "There's no thinkin' about it. She is."
Elias blinked, his usual smirk faltering. “Your mate? Like... mate mate?”
“Yes, Elias,” Killian said dryly, his gaze still fixed on me. “Her blood calls to him. She’s his fated mate."
I clenched my jaw, ignoring Killian. “I didn’t know for sure until last night.”
“And now that ye do,” Killian said, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, “have ye told her what that means for ye? For both of ye?”
I shook my head, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. “No. Not yet.”
“No?” Elias echoed, his voice rising in disbelief. “You haven’t told her? Brogan, do you even?—”
“I know,” I snapped, cutting him off. My chest tightened, everything I hadn’t said pressing down on me. “I know what it means. I don’t need you spelling it out for me.”
“Clearly, ye do,” Killian said, his voice calm but laced with steel. “Because if ye truly understood the gravity of this, ye wouldn’t be keeping it from her. Ye can’t survive without her, Brogan. Not anymore. Not once ye’ve tasted her blood. And I know that ye have. I can smell her blood in yer veins.”
“I know I can only feed from her now,” I ground out, my frustration bubbling up. “But what am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Esme, by the way, I’m basically a ticking time bomb unless you stick around forever and let me feed from you like a blood bag? How the hell is that fair to her?”
“Fair?” Killian’s voice rose, his gold eyes blazing. “Since when does fate care about fair? This isn’t about fair , Brogan. It’s about survival. Yer survival. Whether ye like it or not, ye’re tied to her now. And it's not like she won't get any benefits out of this joining." He moved to the edge of his chair, leaning toward me. "Ye can give her eternal life. She'll be more powerful with yer blood inside of her than she ever could be without it. She could help us. Truly help us! Ye need to tell her.”
I gritted my teeth, the truth of his words sinking in like a knife. He didn't know what he was asking. “I’ll tell her. I just... I need time.”
“Ye don’t have time,” Killian said, standing abruptly. “Marcus is here . I have no idea why he's been lying low until now, but I'm glad he is, because it gives us time to prepare. Jesse and the others are arriving tomorrow. Esme deserves to know she's not alone in this anymore. And if ye don’t get yer head out of yer arse and tell her the truth, ye’re going to regret it. And I have a sick feeling we will, too.”
I didn’t answer. What could I say? He was right, and we both knew it. But how could I ask her to carry this burden with me? How could I even begin to explain it? "She hasn't had my blood yet. She can still live a normal life."
In the span of a heartbeat, Killian flew out of his chair and crossed the room to stand toe to toe with me, his anger pulsing with power. Adrenaline filled my veins, and even Elias jumped to his feet, alert to anything that was about to happen.
"Ye may not give a shite about yer life, but I do," Killian growled. "And I will NOT lose ye because ye're too afraid to confess your sins to the only one who could truly absolve ye—Esme. Yer witch is strong,” he continued, softening his tone. “And she’s smarter than ye give her credit for. Even I can see that. She deserves the chance to decide for herself.”
I knew he was right. I looked over at Elias, who was glowering at me, and threw up my hands. "I'll talk to her as soon as the sun goes down."
"See that ye do," Killian told me. "And after ye've done that, bring her back here. It's safer for everyone if we're together when we take our stand against the djinn." The tension in the room lightened as he stepped back. "Now I'm going to go find my Lizzy. Get some rest. Both of ye. We're going to need it."
I stared after him, knowing he was right.
Elias clapped me on the shoulder as he passed by. "You're an idiot if you don't tie down that hot little pinata."
Anger immediately flooded my veins. "Don't fucking call her that."
He grinned and headed for his room. A few seconds later, after I got my temper under control, I followed him. However, sleep eluded me that day. Instead, I tossed and turned on my bed, fighting the urge to chance the sun just to be closer to her.