Chapter 14 Grace
GRACE
The moment Peter dropped to his knees, the world tilted.
One second, he was looming over me, the next, he had crumpled. His hands clutched his head, and I watched as I witnessed something inside him trying to tear its way out. The sound that escaped him wasn’t human. It was deep and ragged, a growl swallowed by pain.
I hit the floor beside him without thinking. My hands caught his face, fingers trembling as I tried to make him look at me. His skin burned under my palms, his breath came in shallow bursts, and when his eyes finally met mine, they weren’t blue anymore. They were black, bottomless, and violent.
“Peter,” I whispered. “Look at me, please.”
He didn’t. He couldn’t. His body shook, muscles rigid, the veins straining along his neck as sweat ran down his temples. Every instinct in me screamed to hold onto him, to drag him back from whatever abyss was pulling him under. I slid closer, gripping his shoulders as his body bowed forward.
“I’m not letting you go,” I said, my voice breaking. “You hear me? You’re stronger than this.”
Then the heat hit me. It came from deep inside. I screamed as I tore at my shirt. My sigil, it burned against my skin, pulsing like it had come alive, answering some unseen call. The air thickened and the energy shifted. I didn’t need to think; I knew what I had to do.
The words rose from memory; from the last time I had spoken them to him. From that ancient text that lay hidden in my bag. I began to chant, the syllables falling from my tongue like sparks catching flame.
“Sanctum invocatum… protectum in veritate…”
The room hummed, heavy and charged. Peter’s breathing stuttered, then hitched, and suddenly his eyes locked on mine. There was fire in them again, blue flames, desperate and alive.
His hands shot out, clamping around my wrists, grip unrelenting. “Grace,” he rasped. “Keep going.”
I didn’t stop. The sigil on my neck glowed brighter, the light casting sharp shadows over the walls. He dragged me closer until I was straddling him on the floor, our chests almost touching. My voice wavered, my breath mingling with his as I whispered the final lines.
He exhaled hard, shuddering in exhaustion, his body losing its fight as the tension drained from his frame. His hands fell to the floor, and for a long moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was our breathing, ragged and uneven.
Then his voice came, low and rough. His words mumbled as I had his head held to the side of my neck. “Let go, Grace.”
I moved slowly, careful not to disturb whatever was hurting him. “Are you okay?”
He shook his head. “I need you to sit down, Grace.”
It wasn’t a command I could refuse. My body obeyed before my mind could catch up. I sat beside him, pulse racing, the heat between us still electric.
He ran a hand over his face, dragging in a slow breath. When his eyes found me again, they were searching, angry and demanding. “What the hell was that?”
“You tell me,” I whispered, still catching my breath. “You were the one possessed.”
He leaned closer. “You were chanting.”
“And you were breaking apart,” I shot back. “It wasn’t exactly the time for explanations.”
His jaw worked. “What spell was that?”
“One I taught myself. An anchor spell. It’s meant to protect those haunted by demons. It wasn’t supposed to work like it did.”
“Like how, Grace?”
“It was the only way to pull you out.”
“What did you do, Grace?”
I swallowed, heat climbing up my throat. “I think… I might have bound you to me when I used it.”
His head snapped up, and the look he gave me could’ve stopped time. “You what?”
“It wasn’t on purpose,” I said quickly. “I didn’t know it would happen. I just wanted to pull you back.”
The silence that followed stretched taut.
His gaze dropped to the faint red glow still flickering at the top of my breast. The pulse of it matched the rhythm of my heart.
His hand lifted slowly, his fingers brushing over the mark, tracing the edges with deliberate care. The touch sent a tremor down my spine.
“You have no idea what you’ve done,” he murmured, his voice dark and gravelly. “You’ve made me yours.”
My chest rose, my pulse fluttering wildly. “You make it sound like a curse.”
He shook his head, lips ghosting over my mouth. “No. I make it sound like fate.”
Then he kissed me.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. It was raw, hungry.
Years of restraint and torment snapping in a single breath.
His mouth claimed mine, his tongue sliding against mine in a clash that left me trembling.
I clutched at his shirt, tugging him closer, needing the weight of him, the heat of him on top of me.
He groaned into the kiss, low and rough, the sound vibrating through me.
His hands found my hips and dragged me into his lap, his body was hard and unyielding beneath mine.
My thighs tightened around him, pressing close as I moved against him.
His breath hitched, and the sound he made was deep, almost helpless, and it made me ache.
“Tell me to stop,” he said against my lips, his voice strained, desperate.
“No,” I whispered.
He growled; the word lost between us as he laid me back on the futon. The press of his body covered mine, heavy and grounding. His lips traced down my jaw, finding the spot just beneath my ear. His teeth grazed my skin, and I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders.
His hands slid beneath my shirt, palms rough, fingers splayed over my ribs as he pushed the fabric higher, revealing inch after inch of skin. His mouth followed the path his hands made, lips warm, tongue teasing. I arched beneath him, chasing every touch like I’d been starving for it.
He lifted his head, his eyes dark and unfocused and his voice was nothing more than a rasp. “I’ve waited too damn long to taste you.”
“Then don’t wait,” I whispered. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”
His mouth came down on me again, hot and hungry. My breath stuttered as his hands explored every inch they could reach. I wanted to lose myself in it, in him.
“Gracie, this is crazy,” he broke the kiss, still running his hands over my thighs.
“I want you, Peter. I always have. Please, don’t leave us like this.”
I could feel the hardness in his pants brush over my panties, and I arched my hips, humping at the rough material of his jeans. His mouth was hot on mine, his tongue licking at me right before I sucked on it. He grunted and I knew I had him. But just as the edge began to blur, his body went still.
The air shifted and a chill crept in.
“Hellsing?” I whispered.
He blinked, but the man I knew wasn’t behind those eyes anymore. Something darker was there. Something that made every nerve in my body lock.
“Peter,” I said again, softer this time.
He backed away slowly, his face pale, his chest heaving. “No.”
“What’s wrong?”
His gaze flicked past me, to the far corner of the room. The shadows there seemed thicker, heavier.
“Get up,” he said, voice sharp now. “We need to ward this house.”
My heart thudded. “What’s going on?”
He didn’t look at me when he answered. “There’s something evil here. It’s watching us.”
I scrambled up, staring at that same spot on the wall where Hellsing’s focus was locked. “Get my bag, Grace. Quickly.”