Chapter 24
24
brOGAN
T he night air was heavy with the scent of rain as I walked toward Ancient Magicks, my thoughts skipping from one to the next as I tried to think of what I was gonna say to Esme when I saw her. How did you even tell someone this shit?
Hey, by the way, you’re my fated mate, and now I can’t drink from anyone else, so if you could stick around, like, forever, I'll make it worth your while. No pressure.
Great. Smooth.
I used the key Lizzy had given me and unlocked the door, the bell jingling softly as I stepped inside. She’d seemed relieved when I told her I would come check on Esme after telling me she’d left her here, even though she’d made Esme promise to come to the house when she was finished with whatever it was she needed to do.
The shop was dark, but a strip of light shone beneath the curtain that hid the back storage room from the public. The air smelled of incense and herbs, with an undercurrent of something else—was that smoke?
I moved through the aisles, past shelves cluttered with trinkets and jars of who-knows-what, careful not to knock anything over. Then suddenly, I froze. There was another scent in the air. One infinitely more appealing than the others. My gums ached as my fangs shot down and the back of my throat burned with thirst.
"Hello?"
My head snapped up at the sound of Esme's voice and I headed toward the curtain covering the doorway to the back storage room.
It whipped open before I could move it aside, and Esme stood on the other side. She startled when she saw me there, one hand pressed against her heart as she stumbled back.
“Brogan!”
I reached out to catch her, pulling my hand back when she flinched, and all the angry things I wanted to say died on my tongue as soon as I saw her terrified expression. Her eyes traveled over my face, locking on my mouth, but there was nothing I could do about the fang thing.
“Lizzy told me you were here and gave me the key,” I explained. Her heart was still racing. "I didn't mean to scare you. It's just…it's late. I wanted to make sure you got to the house okay."
Her dark eyes were too large as she took me in, as if her mind hadn’t caught up with what she saw right in front of her.
"It's just me," I told her softly.
She gave me a small nod and lowered her hand as her heart began to slow.
I forced myself to calm down. The woman standing in front of me was not the feisty little spitfire I knew. This woman was afraid. So, rather than throwing accusations at her for not telling me about the djinn, I tried broaching the subject a little easier. “Lizzy said you stayed late because there was something you needed to do."
She hesitated, her lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s nothing important.”
My newly acquired patience suddenly snapped. She was lying to me. Again. “Bullshit.” I stabbed my hands through my hair. “Esme, talk to me.”
She took a step back. “It’s…"
"Do not fucking tell me it's nothing again."
"…complicated,” she finished instead.
“I can smell your blood.” My eyes bored into hers. I didn't need to look at her other hand to know there was another cut across her palm. “And I know about Marcus showing up at your apartment.”
She lowered her eyes to the floor, her shoulders tense. “Brogan, you shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not?”
"Because…" She paused, crossing her arms in front of her and lifting her chin. "It's none of your business why."
"Humor me."
Her mouth snapped shut and she got that stubborn look in her pretty, dark eyes. The one that told me I wouldn't get anywhere this way.
Forcing myself to get it under control, I said, "Okay. You don't have to tell me. But at least let me walk you back to the house.”
For a moment, I thought she was about to argue some more, but then she glanced over her shoulder before turning back to me. I looked over her head into the room behind her, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Yet, when her eyes returned to me, there was something new there. Just a quick flash. So quick I almost didn't catch it. Fear?
“Let me get my phone and my coat. And I need to run by my place and get a few things.”
My eyes swept the back room one more time as she got her things. There was nothing out of place. Nowhere anyone could hide. Yet something was definitely off. I felt it crawling over my skin, making my gums tingle, my barely hidden fangs itching to come out and play.
"I'm ready." Esme squeezed past me and out into the shop with her coat and purse.
With one last look around, I turned off the light and let the curtain fall back into place. “Since when do you have a phone?”
“I’ve always had it.”
“Then how come I don’t have your number?”
“Because you’ve never asked.”
I locked the front door behind us after eyeing a few groups of humans still roaming up and down the street. There weren’t many people out tonight, the usual hum of life muted by the threat of bad weather, and a quick glance was all it took to confirm they weren't a threat. The air was still damp and heavy, but the rain was holding off and the unease that had pricked my skin inside the shop started to fade as we stepped onto the sidewalk.
Esme was already walking a few steps ahead of me, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
I caught up to her in two long strides, gently grabbed her arm, pulling her to a halt. She spun to face me, her dark eyes haunted, but she didn’t pull away.
“Please tell me what's happening with you, Es.”
She looked away, her chest rising and falling with a shaky breath as she steadied herself. “I told you, it’s complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. I took a breath and tried again. “You’re freaking me out. What are you doing?”
She hesitated, her gaze darting to the side like she was debating something. Finally, she let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s... it’s just something I had to do. For me. Okay? Please drop it.”
I wanted to push, to demand answers, but the way she was looking at me—like she was bracing for a fight—made me back off. For now. I didn't want to fight. Not tonight. “At least tell me that you're safe."
She let out a breath. "I'm safe," she repeated. "I'm here, aren't I?" She made a grand gesture with her arms, taking in her entire body from her head to her feet.
Wrapping an arm around her, I pulled her in close, and she let me do it without a fuss. I didn't know if it was the cold or if she just needed the physical comfort as much as I did, but I honestly didn't care about the why. Only that she was with me, and for now, I was content to walk the few blocks to her apartment in silence.
“So, do you want my number?”
She looked up at me, frowning. "Why?"
"So you can call me if you need me."
"Oh." She snuggled in a little closer, slipping her arm beneath my black jacket so I could feel the softness of her breast against my side. I could also feel the slight tremble of her body. "No," she told me.
"I'd feel better if you had it.” I kept my tone easy and casual.
“I don’t need it.”
“You might someday.”
“I won’t.”
I glanced down at her in surprise as she scratched the tip of her nose with her injured hand, revealing the tissue gripped in her fist. "How bad is the cut on your hand?"
"Not as bad as last time," she said softly. "I'll put something on it when I get home."
It worried me that she wasn't arguing. Or teasing me. Or pushing me away. Or trying to distract me with kisses.
"Will you tell me about your family?" I don't know what made me say it, other than the fact that I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to know everything.
"My family?"
"If it's too soon?—"
"No. No, it's okay. I'm just surprised." She studied me with a strange expression.
"Will you tell me about them?"
"Why?"
"Because it's a way to keep them alive. And because I'd like to know more about you. And because I love the sound of your voice.” I tightened my arm around her shoulder, reminding her I was there. That I wasn't going anywhere.
After a moment, she did as I asked, starting with the small town she grew up in and how her grandmother, her abuela , lived with them and taught her how to draw out the magic inside of her, just as she had her mother. She told me about her mother's cooking. And the way her father always acted so stern, but how he would do anything for the women in his life. She talked about her brother and the school she went to and how she never had many friends and how sad it used to make her, but her mother would never let her sit in her room depressed.
"She'd never let me be a wallflower,” she said with a smile. "I get my love of clothes from her.”
I listened to her stories without interrupting, enjoying the way she flipped back and forth between Spanish and English without realizing it and the smiles that teased the corners of her red lips as she shared details about the people she loved most in the world. And by the time we reached her apartment, I felt like I knew this woman better, but still not nearly as much as I'd like.
But that would take time that we may or may not have, so I'd take what I could get for now.
She grew quiet as we climbed the stairs to her unit, and I knew the time had come to stop being a fucking coward and tell her everything. But the moment Esme turned the key in the lock and pushed open her apartment door, the air shifted, and a cold, unnatural chill rolled out like a fog. A vaguely familiar scent hit me like a brick wall—charred sulfur and something ancient, something that didn’t belong in this world. The same magic we'd felt that night on the street with Dae, the night I'd kissed her.
My gut tightened, but the scalding hot fury that he'd been in her home again was stronger than my fear. Esme froze beside me, still in the hallway, her uninjured hand gripping the door frame so tight her knuckles turned white. Her scent, sharp and acrid, gave away her terror, making my instincts scream to protect her. It was obvious she didn't know he'd be here.
"Invite me in," I said, stepping closer but not crossing the threshold. A vampire couldn’t enter a home without permission. "Esme." I grabbed her chin and forced her to look at me. "Invite. Me. In."
She blinked up at me, snapping out of her daze as her eyes fell to my exposed fangs, and nodded. "Come in, Brogan."
The second she said it, the invisible force keeping me out of her place snapped, and I crossed the threshold, my senses on high alert. The apartment was small—a living room with a loveseat and coffee table, a tiny kitchenette, and a door that led to what I assumed was the bedroom. Everything appeared normal, but the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up and kept my senses on full alert.
"Stay behind me," I told her, moving through the space slower than I would have normally so she could keep up. I checked the bedroom—bed neatly made, nothing out of place. No one was in the closet. The bathroom was empty too, though the stench of Marcus lingered in the air the heaviest here, especially near the sink, like he'd lingered there for a while.
I checked the counter. There was a toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, lotion, and a small bag with makeup in it. Scooping it all up, I dropped it in the trash.
Esme watched from the doorway, but said nothing when I threw out all of her stuff. She wasn't stupid. There was a reason Marcus lingered in here. I didn’t want her using any of this shit. “I’ll buy you new lipstick."
"Red?" she asked in a small voice. "Forever Dior?"
"Absofuckinglutely."
"I'll need all the other stuff you threw away also."
“Make me a list, darlin'." I ran my eyes over her, noticing the stiff way she held herself. "He’s not here anymore," I assured her, though my words didn’t make her relax. If anything, she seemed even more on edge.
“I know.”
“Then what is it?”
"It's not the first time he's been here," she admitted, her voice shaky. "He knows where I live."
At last. Some honesty. “Yeah, I know.”
Her dark eyes shone with terrified tears. “Lizzy told you,” she guessed.
“Actually, it was Angel. But, yeah, they told us this morning when I got home.”
I moved toward her, unable to help myself, needing to touch her. I took her hands in mine, careful not to grip them too hard in my panic. "Will you tell me what happened?” I asked, even though I wanted to scream at her for not telling me right away so I could get her somewhere safe.
She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor as her shoulders sagged, all the fight leaving her. “He thinks the book he’s looking for is here in the city, and he thinks I can find it."
My jaw clenched as I searched her face. "Can you?"
She raised her eyes to mine, a single tear sliding down her cheek. "I don't know. I'm trying."
"That's why you were at Lizzy's store after hours."
"Yes."
She was finally talking to me. Fucking finally . My relief was only overwhelmed by the fear wreaking havoc with my protective instincts.
I wanted to ask more, to press her for details, but the way she practically trembled with fear stopped me. "You’re not staying here anymore,” I said firmly. "You’re coming with me."
For once, she didn’t protest.
I helped her pack the lone suitcase she'd brought with her from Mexico and got her the hell out of there as quickly as possible. As soon as we were outside, I pulled out my cell phone and texted Killian, letting him know what happened and that we were on our way to the house. Then I took Esme by the hand and we rushed to the house. Hell, if I thought I could get away with it, I would've thrown her over my shoulder and ran at full vamp speed.
"Won't he be able to find me here?" she asked when we got to the house. Killian's car was gone, presumably to pick up our guests at the airport.
"No," I assured her. "It's one of the perks of having witches for mates. There's a ward surrounding the house."
She stopped walking, tugging on my hand. I looked back at her, and her terrified eyes met mine. "I had wards around the apartment building. The entire building. That won't stop him."
Dropping the suitcase, I took her face between my palms. "He won't get to you here, Es. I promise."
She shook her head. "How do you know that?"
"Because I won't fucking let him."
Whether or not she believed me, she turned her face and kissed the center of my palm, and my heart skipped a whole fucking beat.
"Come on, let's get you inside."
Lizzy and Kenya were sitting at the kitchen table when we came in. Lizzy took one look at the suitcase in my hand and immediately jumped up and gave Esme a big hug. "I'm so glad you're here."
Esme wrapped her arms around her and hugged her back for a long moment before pulling away and smiling at Kenya, who'd gotten up from the table also. " Hola ."
"Hi." Kenya gave her a little wave. "I'm Kenya. It's nice to formally meet you, Esme." To me, she said, "Killian is locking everything down. After tonight, The Fang will be 'closed for repairs'." She made air quotes when she said it. "And he's forcing Lizzy to close her shop, too."
I nodded. "I'm gonna take Esme upstairs and get her settled."
"We'll see you in a bit," Lizzy told her with a smile.
I led Esme up the stairs, her hand warm and small in mine. When we reached my room, I pushed the door open and gestured for her to enter first. Mine was the smallest bedroom in the house. Just a bed on the left wall, some built-in drawers and shelves on the opposite wall, and a small closet at the far end.
"It's not much, but we don't have a spare room with all of us here." I pointed back out the door. "There's a bathroom right across the hall. And Dae's room is down at the end."
"Will you be staying here too?" she asked, catching me off guard.
I hadn't really thought about it. "I'll stay wherever you're most comfortable with me being."
"I'm comfortable with you being in here," she told me with no hesitation. Quieter, she admitted, "I don't want to be alone, if that's okay."
Setting down her suitcase, I gently brushed her hair back off her perfect face. "It's totally okay."
Her eyes scanned the space—the unmade bed with the green comforter, the abstract paintings on the walls that were here when we moved in and I decided I liked, the open closet door with my shirts hanging inside and my shoes taking up space on the floor. Some in the closet. Some not.
"I'll make you some space," I promised. "And clean up."
She smiled for the first time that night. "I don't mind. I kind of like it. It's bright and colorful and a little bit messy, like you."
I closed the door behind us, and the moment the latch clicked, something shifted between us. Esme lifted dark, needy eyes to mine, and the desperate need I had to have her close suddenly overwhelmed me, the desire that had been simmering just beneath the surface since I'd last seen her finally boiling over. Urgent. Uncontrollable. I stepped into her, my body drawn to hers like a magnet, until I could feel the heat radiating from her skin.
Her breath hitched as I reached out, my fingers grazing the soft, smooth texture of her cheek before tangling in her long, silky hair. The world around us faded away until nothing existed except the two of us and the irresistible pull of our longing. Before I could overthink it, I kissed her, and heard the thud of her bag hitting the floor.
Her lips were soft and warm, and she tasted like the tea in Lizzy’s shop, like mint and honey. Her hands slid up my chest, fingers tangling in the fabric of my shirt as she kissed me back with a hunger that matched my own. The feel of her, the scent of her—sweet and spicy and uniquely Esme —was so fucking intoxicating. My fangs ached and my cock hardened, the urge to mark her, to claim her, almost overwhelming.
I kissed her hungrily. Desperately. Careful of my fangs, because if I got a taste of her blood…Jesus, I'd be lost. It was bad enough that I could still smell the cut on her hand, though it was better than back at the shop. But barely.
Esme moaned, her arms sliding up to wrap around my neck. She pressed her soft curves against me and I wound my free arm around her waist, pulling her into me until the tight grip of my arm was the only thing that held her upright. God, I never wanted to stop holding her like this.
The thought of forever slammed into me with the force of a wrecking ball, and with a desperate groan, I broke off the kiss, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. Her breath was quick, her lips slightly parted and smeared with lipstick, and I had a sudden vision of that mouth wrapped around the head of my cock.
“Esme,” I said, my voice rough with need as I did my best to wipe the lipstick from around her mouth. “There’s something I need to tell you, too.”
She blinked up at me with passion-glazed eyes as her thumb swiped below my lower lip. “Tell me later," she breathed. "I don't want to talk right now.”
"Darlin', we have to talk. And we need to do it before this goes any further."
She sighed heavily. "Are you sure you shouldn't fuck me first? Am I going to be angry after you tell me what it is that’s been bothering you?”
That was a good question. “I hope not, but anything's possible."
"Then don't tell me."
"Es…"
"No." She shook her head, her chin getting that stubborn tilt. “We can talk later. Not now."
But this time, it couldn't wait. "Es, I'm serious."
Her dark eyes flashed up to mine. "So am I. I don't want to discuss anything serious tonight. There'll be time enough for that tomorrow. The only thing I want to talk about tonight is finding a lipstick that doesn’t smear.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. This was more than her being shaken up by Marcus’s presence in her apartment. "Why is that? What's going on?"
She gripped my hand tight, and her spine straightened, like she was bracing herself. “Because I made a deal with Marcus, and tonight might be all we have.” She swallowed hard. “I have five days to find the book. Well, two now. And if I don’t, he’ll kill everyone I care about. Including you.”
A muscle ticked in my jaw. “And you didn’t think to tell me this?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“By keeping me in the dark? That’s not protection, Esme. That’s a death sentence.”
She shook her head. “I didn't want to drag you into this. It’s my fight.”
“It stopped being just your fight the moment you became MINE,” I growled.
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of us spoke as we stared at each other.
“Brogan—”
I cut her off. “No. We’re in this together, whether you like it or not.”
She stared at me, her eyes searching mine.
“Promise me,” I said, my voice hard. “Promise me you won’t try to face this alone anymore.”
She stared at me for a long time. “I promise,” she whispered.
I reached for her, pulling her into my arms. "Good."
Then I moaned as she rose up on her toes and her lips found mine. She was right. The serious talk could wait.