Chapter 22 Aurora
TWENTY-TWO
AURORA
Aurora’s whole body shivered, every bit of her cold and stiff. I’m in my body. There was no mistaking the weight of her flesh and bones. The cool air on her skin.
One second, she’d been with Gia, and the next, everything was black. Why was it so dark? Were her eyes even open?
Yes, they were. She must be in the crypt.
Being drawn into her body was unexpected. She’d assumed she’d have to float into herself once Gia got her body out in the open.
Another shiver raced through her. She’d think about the details later. It was damp in here, the air stale.
Why wasn’t she covered with a shroud? Had they put her in the stone burial chamber without one?
She reached in front of her, unable to see her hand, and felt for the edges of the space. Instead of being met with stone, her fingers brushed wood.
What? Where was she?
Aurora’s hands moved frantically, feeling all around. Rough wood surrounded her on all sides. This wasn’t the crypt.
She was in a box. A wooden box that smelled of earth and must.
“No. I can’t be.” Was she underground?
Had she been buried?
A scream tore from Aurora’s throat. She thrashed, banging her elbows and knees against wood. She had to get out. She had to escape.
The space closed in. She would run out of air and die. After everything, she’d die and lose her chance at having the life she wanted.
Aurora didn’t want to die. She never had. All she’d ever wanted was to escape, and now she never would.
Her eyes were wet, her throat burning, but Aurora forced herself to still, to stop screaming, stop using up her limited air. She had to think. She couldn’t bust her way out, not if she was underground—the thought nearly had her screaming once more—but no. She could figure this out.
Could she suspend her body again? Repeating her initial spell might mean she’d be pulled to Gia’s side. Or even the theater. Anywhere was better than here.
Would the spell work without the power of flame?
She had to try. Closing her eyes against the oppressive darkness, Aurora called on her magic and scrambled desperately to catch hold of it. Damnation. She could get it together and fucking do this. She had to. She wasn’t dying today.
Magic swelled inside her, and she seized it. The spell was complex, and her concentration and willpower were shot to Hell, but still, she pushed through.
Nothing happened. Her soul remained in her damned body.
A scream bubbled from the depths of Aurora’s chest, her ears popped, and every one of her muscles shook.
The faint sound of an answering scream tickled the edge of her hearing, and she stilled. Oh Satan, is that Gia?
The earth vibrated around Aurora, and she gasped, her arms flying out to catch herself. She heaved a breath, yet hardly any air seemed to enter her lungs. How much time did she have left before she suffocated? Would Gia reach her in time?
The earth vibrated again. And again.
Aurora couldn’t do this. Her breathing shallowed, chest clenching so tight her lungs burned.
With a scream, Aurora unleashed her magic, and power exploded out of her. She prayed she wouldn’t be crushed to death when the coffin broke, but she needed it to break. It was the only way out. Her magic would have to be enough to blast her way to the surface.
Wood cracked and splintered, everything around her shaking, but nothing changed. Nothing but blackness greeted her teary gaze, and when she pushed on the wood inches above her face, it didn’t budge.
Aurora swallowed her next scream and released another blast.
The coffin shattered. Thank the Devil, it seemed to be cheap wood rather than anything sturdy.
Aurora released more magic and pushed upward to carve her way out.
At last, her hands broke through cracked wood and sent soil pouring onto her face.
She scrambled, tearing her hands through the dirt, her magic working to keep the earth from pulling her under.
She would not be crushed. Not by this. Not after the life she’d lived. Aurora surged upward along with her magic, but she was still underground, dirt all around.
How far was the surface?
There was no air left. She struggled, panic shredding her insides, the urge to breathe overwhelming, dirt on her face and pushing against her closed lips.
A vibration from above met Aurora’s frantic blasts of magic, and the crushing pressure eased.
“Aurora! I’m coming!” Gia’s voice rained down on her, sweeter than any sound she’d ever heard.
Aurora struggled harder, and her hand broke free, warm air enveloping her skin in a burning contrast to the cold soil crushing her body. Fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled, another hand digging into the dirt along her arm until it met her neck.
Gia clasped Aurora’s nape in an iron grip and heaved, lifting her out of the earth.
Aurora gasped, the sound of her desperate breath rattling the air. Her lungs burned as she sucked air in.
“Oh my god, Aurora!” Gia cried as frantic hands wiped dirt from Aurora’s cheeks. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Oh god.”
Gia wrapped her arm around Aurora and pulled her farther out of the grave. Aurora tasted soil on her lips. Her vision blurred with renewed tears, mingling with the dirt in her eyes and on every inch of her skin.
“Gia,” she sputtered. “You saved me.”
Gia stilled, then pulled away to meet Aurora’s eyes, her face splotchy red and expression wild. She was as covered in dirt as Aurora, and it was the most transcendent thing Aurora had ever seen.
Heart racing, Aurora tangled a bloody and soil-stained hand in Gia’s messy hair and tugged her into a kiss, their mouths meeting in a desperate crash. Gia gasped, body stiff, then melted into Aurora, arms tightening around her.
Aurora groaned, almost a growl, and deepened the kiss, chasing the sweet taste of Gia.
Their tongues tangled, mixing the bitterness of salty tears and soil.
Aurora realized she was crying again and didn’t care.
Hot tears had never felt so good. Summer air had never been so refreshing.
Another body had never been this comforting against her.
For a second, Aurora swore she was floating. If Gia’s grip hadn’t been so tight, she’d have feared she’d vacated her body. But Gia grounded her, and Aurora never wanted to be anywhere else.
Gasping for breath was no longer terrifying. It meant she and Gia were one, consumed by each other, and Aurora chased the feeling. This kiss was life. It could devour her whole, and she’d never be happier.
Without breaking the kiss, Aurora crawled the rest of the way from her grave, flattening Gia on her back in the piles of dirt, and straddled her hips. Gia moaned, one hand finding its way to Aurora’s ass, the other in her hair.
Aurora couldn’t get enough. Her core tightened, and she rolled her hips, arousal spiking at Gia’s responding whimper.
She’d fuck Gia, right here. Make Gia hers, like it was the only thing that mattered in life. Because it was.
“Aurora,” Gia moaned against her lips. “I thought I lost you, and I can’t… I need you. Don’t stop.”
Aurora nipped Gia’s bottom lip. “I need you too.”
She didn’t mean Gia’s body, though she desired every inch of her.
She needed Gia’s love and the opportunity to love her in return.
Needed the two of them together from now on, so these feelings could blossom into something deeper.
Because they would. The clarity of the realization would have shocked her if it hadn’t been so wonderful.
“I like a show as much as the next girl, but we need to get the fuck out of here.”
Aurora and Gia froze.
Viv stood over them, her hands on her hips. “Heard you screaming like a banshee, Gia. Not exactly subtle. Get moving.”
Aurora scrambled off Gia and held out a hand to pull her to her feet. “Are the Thornfields headed this way?”
“Not yet, but even without vampire hearing, I doubt anyone missed the scream fest.”
Gia glared at Viv. “Aurora was trapped in a grave. Underground.”
“I see.” Viv wrinkled her nose at the mess of upturned earth. “Let’s get the fuck going.” She marched off in the direction of the car.
Aurora grabbed Gia’s hand and pulled her after the vampire.
Poor Gia looked stricken. “I shouldn’t have been so loud.”
Aurora huffed. “No one but an immortal could have kept their head in this situation. Don’t worry about it. I don’t hear anyone coming yet.”
They picked up the pace, running through the trees until the magic door appeared up ahead.
Viv was already unlocking the car. “Grab the box when you’re through, will you?”
Gia stepped through the strange door, pulling Aurora after her. A sharp pain shot up Aurora’s arm, and she wrenched her hand from Gia’s.
Gia flexed her fingers. “Ow! What was that?”
All of Aurora’s giddy joy fled, leaving her empty. She was still on the other side of the boundary. Inside the compound’s grounds. She tried to step closer to Gia and couldn’t get her feet to move.
“Hurry up!” Viv yelled.
Gia’s brow furrowed. “Aurora, what’s wrong?”
She swallowed, her throat dry. “I can’t get out. It didn’t work. My whole plan. The spell. Leaving my body didn’t sever my ties.”
Gia’s expression was ashen. “What?”
Aurora fisted her hands in her hair. “I can’t get off the property. I’m still tied here. Still bound.”
Oh Satan, she should have realized. Not all of her magic had escaped when she’d been a ghost. Her inability to cast spells meant the magic in her blood had remained in her body and had never been free. The link that bound her had remained untouched.
She’d been right that nothing could contain a pure soul, but freeing that soul didn’t sever the rest as she’d hoped. Not while she remained alive.
“I’m still bound,” she repeated, frantic.
Gia stepped through the magic door, seemingly without a second thought, and clasped Aurora’s hand. “We’ll find another way to free you.”
Tears welled in Aurora’s eyes. “How? The only other way is to break the binding, and I can’t cast spells against my family. I’m right back where I started.”