CHAPTER 10
Rue
I eye the stake knowing there’s no way I’m strong enough to take out a vampire leader. The feral one last night was proof enough of that and the thought is as unwelcome as it is annoying. With my heart in my throat, I decide running is my best choice.
At the last second, I whirl around and yank the stake off the dresser, just in case, and tuck it into the back of my leather pants, hoping no one will notice it if I’m caught; and I’ll at least have a way to protect myself. Plus, who knows when or if I might come across another feral fucker. This time I want to be ultra-prepared since there won’t be any dashing shifters coming to my rescue.
Flicking the lock on the window, I slam it open, grimacing at the twinge in my wrist. Now I regret not tearing the hexin’ covers to shreds and making a sling, but there’s no time to dwell on it. Gritting my teeth, I take a deep breath and use my good hand to prop me up on the windowsill and propel out of it. My feet hit the ground and my right ankle rolls slightly from the fall. Wincing, I slowly rotate it side to side. It’s tender, but not broken or sprained. That’d be my luck, though. A broken hand and sprained foot.
A blast of air whips my hair into my face, spurring me into action. I’ve wasted too much time already. I need to get out of here.
A part of me feels bad for running away, like there’s three phantom strings attaching me to the shifters in the cabin who risked a lot to save me, but the other remembers Kathan telling Slade to erase my memories, and it bolsters my resolve.
Not able to help myself, I risk a glance backward to see if Rhys or anyone has noticed me gone, only to smack into a rock-hard body. I bounce off him, cursing myself for not checking my surroundings or figuring where to go before making a mad dash across their yard. Real smart, Rue. Totally winning.
Time seems to slow as my momentum catches up to me and I flail, my body tipping backwards. A squeak tumbles from my lips, but before my ass can greet the ground, the man—who has gorgeous hand veins—grips me by the upper arms and rights me. Why the first thing I notice about him is his hand veins and the expensive silver-looking rings adorning his fingers is beyond me. Maybe it’s because of the metal catching the light pouring off the cabin. Or maybe it’s because my body knows it’s in the presence of a predator and is taking note of every detail.
My gaze snags on his breezy-looking black suit with a half-buttoned white dress shirt underneath before traveling up to his deep, shockingly blue eyes. He’s handsome and doesn’t look a day older than twenty-five, but I know better than that. His black hair, as dark as a raven’s feather, shines under the moonlight and it highlights his razor-sharp jawline.
“And where do you think you’re going, little witch?” Slade intones, his voice a seductive rasp with an undercurrent of madness. I have no idea how I get that from only a phrase, but I do.
Maybe it’s the vibes he’s exuding—his dark aura that says, I’ve seen and done some shit. He’s as stunning as the shifters, but also darker. Power clings to him, wrapping him in a cloak of darkness and unimaginable strength. I should be scared, but I’m not. I find myself leaning in closer to him, wanting to get lost in his allure. There’s a dangerous attraction sizzling in the air between us, giving me the impression I’m the fly about to be zapped in a trap. Even so, I can’t look away.
We stay like that for a beat. Me studying him, him analyzing me. Before his question catches up to me and indignation makes my cheeks heat, snapping me out of the trance. “Where do you think I’m going?” I don’t give him a chance to respond because it should be obvious. “Away from here, obviously.”
He tilts his head, staring at me like I’m the ninth wonder of the world. “Why is that, darling witch?”
I straighten my spine and raise my chin, refusing to be cowed. “I’m not letting you erase my memories.” I have no idea where this attitude is coming from because it’s not like me. Normally, I’d do everything in my power to deescalate the situation instead of dropping a bucket of hornets on it. Especially when it involves a powerful vampire.
Maybe my near-death experience flipped the bitch switch in my brain.
The corner of Slade’s lip turns up, giving me the briefest glimpse of his sharp fang. “Oh, darling witch, has no one ever taught you any manners? It’s not polite to eavesdrop. And you made such a poor escape attempt.” He tsks, and I swear he almost sounds disappointed. “I could hear your precious heart fluttering from outside.” As if to prove his point he places his index finger against the hammering pulse in my throat, and I snort in disbelief. It’s not polite to eavesdrop, yet he can hear my heart. Ironic.
“Better to try and fail than never try at all.”
Slade could quite literally snap my neck in half within a second and there’d be no preventing it. Witches don’t have accelerated healing. We’re not like vampires and shifters, who can take a hex of a lot of damage. We’re a lot easier to kill, making us easier prey. Usually, our magic protects us, but mine is practically nonexistent. I’ve always been envious of their lifespans, knowing my days are numbered. I won’t waste this second chance that’s been given to me.
Despite my best efforts to appear strong, my body betrays me by shivering. I can’t help it. This man is a ruthless killer and he has me clutched in his grasp. What’s to stop him from murdering me instead of erasing my memory?
Slade notices my tremble and his eyes sharpen before he removes his finger from my throat. He leans in closer, his cheek brushing mine as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, sending a fire ant sensation throughout my body. “The wolves can ask me whatever they want. Doesn’t mean I’ll do it.” The next thing I know, his arm is wrapped around me and I’m standing in the shifters living room, woozy as hell from him phasing us in the blink of an eye.
“No, let me gooo—” My words are cut off and I groan, fighting the dizziness. “You could at least warn a witch next time.” I push Slade’s arms off me, and surprisingly he obliges, as nausea washes over me. My stomach threatens to riot, and I screw my eyes shut, putting my hands on my knees. “We’re not exactly built for speed, you know.” Apparently, I have a death wish because I can’t seem to let it go.
“Ah, yes,” Slade responds, watching me with amusement dancing in his ice blue eyes. “I’d almost forgotten the human-like vulnerability of witches.” There’s a bite to his tone that says otherwise.
Before I can retort, someone grabs me by the shoulders and my attention snaps to Rhys. There’s a glint in his eyes I can’t quite decipher. I pointedly ignore him, even if him checking me over for injuries warms my heart. He’s on my hex list right now for agreeing with Kathan about my memories. Caylix too.
The former notices my coldness and his face pinches into a frown. “I heard everything,” I whisper. “I know we just met, but I thought we had something going.” Admitting it out loud seems silly, and I turn my head away. Maybe I read the signals wrong. Maybe I imagined the heat between us. Either way, I feel like an idiot, and I force another round of tears to stay hidden. “God, I sound stupid.”
He leans in closer, drawing my attention back to his yellow eyes. His wolf is riding him hard tonight and I have to wonder if it’s his natural protective instincts or if it’s because Slade is present. “No, you don’t. There is something between us, and I’m sorry for not speaking out about Kathan’s plan.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough, Rhys.”
Rhys lets out a growl, interrupting the conversation happening between the others. “Taking her memories would be a mistake. She’d only be forgetting us and that this ever happened. We wouldn’t forget her, and I don’t want that.” His fingers rub small circles against my skin in the space between my shirt and pants. That paired with his admission makes me suck in a breath.
I have every right to be angry with them for suggesting erasing my memories. Even if Rhys is suddenly remorseful over it. Caylix’s brows are drawn together like he’s rethinking his decision. I glance at Kathan to find him with his bulging arms folded and a grumpy expression on his face. Slade simply stares at me in wonder, and it makes my skin heat. I don’t like not being able to tell what he’s thinking.
Witches’ tits, I can’t process anything at all with Rhys’ hands on me. I step out of his hold and his chest rumbles in protest, but he gives me the space I need to sort through my thoughts. Which is still a monumental task with four sets of eyes on me from four drop-dead gorgeous supernaturals.
Every part of my body is tingly, and I can’t help but dig my nails into a particularly itchy area on my arm. It’s one of the spots where I was scratched during my attack, and I snag it, causing fresh blood to rise to the surface. Oh hex, I can’t believe I did that.
Suddenly, there’s a sharp intake of breath and Slade lets out a ferocious growl. The guttural sound yanks my focus to him. His eyelids flutter closed and his head rolls back as he inhales deeply. His eyes flash from their brilliant blue to bright red as the blood drips from the scrape, and a drop splatters onto the floor. Wow, I didn’t think it was that deep.
Slade levels his red gaze on me, licking his lips, much like what I remember happening with the bartender outside The Growl. He continues to watch me like a predator stalking its next kill, zeroing in on every movement and twitch I make. I put my hands out placatingly, but apparently, it’s the wrong thing to do because he snarls, his fangs nipping the air as he lunges for me.
A scream flies from my throat as his eyes and face morph into the feral vampire that attacked me, and panic floods my system. With my heart pounding so hard, I’m afraid it’ll crack a rib, I reach for the stake at my back with my good hand and swing it toward his heart without a second thought. My hands are shaky and I’m still burning up with fever, but there’s no way I’m going down like this. I refuse to let it happen twice. This is another fight or flight moment, and fleeing would only activate his predatory response.
Before the stake can pierce his flesh, his hand snatches my wrist in a brutal grip, one that forces a cry from my lips as the piece of wood clatters to the floor harmlessly. By some miracle, he manages to not break my other wrist, though his chest is heaving from breathing so hard. My eyes snap to his and I expect glowing red, but they’re blue like before, though they’re swirling with power and have a hint of something else in them. Awe, maybe? But he blinks and it’s gone before I can be certain. What I am sure of, is he has an incredible grip on his self-control.
My gaze darts to the door and his dark laugh dashes any hope of me escaping. “Don’t you dare run, little witch. I will chase you and I promise… I’m much faster.” Something about the tone in which he says it, makes me think he would enjoy chasing me far too much. The thought doesn’t remotely repulse me as much as it should, and now all I can picture is wildly running with Slade on my heels and what’ll he do to me when he captures me.
My panties instantly flood and desire plumes all around us, making Slade grin even wider. The shifters must pick up on it too because three echoing growls rumble at Slade, and Caylix takes a step toward us. “Unhand the witch.”
“Something tells me she’d like it if I let her go and chased her,” he responds, his tone dripping with amusement as he makes it clear he knows my mind took a left turn and hit the gutter full speed.
Caylix’s eyes morph into his wolf’s yellow, and Slade sighs before releasing my wrist. I take a deep, steadying breath and try to calm my shaking hands. It’s no use so I settle for interlocking them in front of me.
“You do smell divine, though, little witch,” he rasps, his face a lot closer to mine than it was a second ago. It wouldn’t take much for him to press his lips against mine. Whoa, do I want that? But he phases away from me before I can decide.
The vampire bends over and picks the stake up, tossing it around in his hands a few times as if testing the balance and weight. Next thing I know, he’s standing in front of the fireplace and chucks it into the flames, brushing his hands off before returning to his position in front of us, posture completely lax. I hate the gasp that escapes me at his sudden movements and proximity. My body reacts to him even when my brain wants to scream and hit the deck. Or run straight into his arms. Sheesh, the witchlash is real.
Slade fixes his suit jacket, and it takes everything in me not to drool over the abs I see underneath his flowy undershirt. I’ve always heard that vampires are seductive creatures, but this feels like more. So much more. The attraction sizzling between us is off the charts. Something that doesn’t escape the wolves’ notice.
Caylix clears his throat, and it snaps me out of my perusal of Slade. “Care to explain what that outburst was, Slade? Or are we all going to pretend like you didn’t try to eat Rue seconds ago?”
Some hexed up part of me is not all that upset at the prospect of him eating me, but not in the way Caylix means.
And if looks could kill, Caylix would drop dead at Slade’s feet. “It was nothing. Her blood is more potent than expected. I’m good.” His words are easy—breezy even—but the gleam in his eye is anything but. Calculated, intrigued, maybe even worried?
Interesting.
“That wasn’t nothing, Slade, and you fucking know it,” Rhys growls, baring his teeth at Slade, which are slightly pointier than before. Oh, no. I need to calm him before I have an all-out wolf-vampire brawl on my hands.
As quick as I dare in a room full of predators, I reach down and clamp Rhys’ hand in mine. His gaze follows the movement and then lifts to see my expression, which I leave open and honest. I encourage him to take a few deep breaths so he’s not seconds away from shredding everything and going full wolf. That’d really be the not-so-great icing on the cake. Clearly, they have some sort of arrangement going on, which is unheard of for natural enemies, and I’ll be cursed if I’m the one who breaks it up.
Slade sighs. “Let’s get on with it, shall we? I have people to kill, things to see, you know, the usual.” Before anyone else can react, Slade is in front of me, gripping my chin, removing Rhys’ hold on my hand. I shudder with desire, and a gasp I can’t control escapes me, causing Slade to smirk. Rhys lets out a possessive growl, but he doesn’t intervene, knowing the vampire could easily kill me. Once again, the thought should make me nervous with anxiety, not filled with lust. Why do I keep allowing myself to be put into these situations?
The allure between Slade and I is powerful. So powerful, it almost rivals what I’ve got going with the three shifters. “What’s your name?” And like the magnet I am, my gaze snaps to Slade’s. His eyes are doing that shifty thing again where his ice blue irises are swirling with power.
Is he trying to compel me?
“Rue Delacroix,” I answer.
“And where are you from, Miss Delacroix?”
Part of me wants to lie—mainly because I don’t feel the usual sensation everyone describes while being compelled by a vampire—to see if I can get away with it, but the other knows Rhys has my social media handle and would easily be able to find the truth. “Inside the city.”
“Ah, it seems you’ve got a born and bred New Orleans witch on your hands, wolves. Why were you at The Growl tonight?”
Great. Something else I’ve already admitted to Rhys. As much as he calms me, he’s still on my shit list at the moment. “It’s my twenty-third birthday. I was supposed to meet two of my friends there, but they ditched me at the last second.”
Slade grins. “Twenty-third birthday? Did you come into your full powers?”
“No,” I snap before I can even think about it and immediately want to face palm. Sure, Rue, admit that you’re not a powerful witch. Sounds like a brilliant plan.
His eyes widen. “I see. And are you here as a spy for the Witches Council?”
“No,” I repeat. “What are you going to do with me? Since my fate seems to be in your fucking hands.”
Slade somehow manages to get impossibly closer to me, licking the thudding pulse on the unblemished side of my neck and his fangs scrape the area before he pulls away. I thought my panties flooded earlier, but that’s nothing compared to this. When he scents it, he grins at me. “Don’t tempt me to fuck you with these hands, little witch, because I will. Right here in front of these wolves.”
This time there are three distinct rumbles of protest, but I can’t think through the fog of lust suddenly plaguing me.
“I-I,” I stammer. “No,” is all I manage to get out like a broken record. In my defense, Slade is enigmatic—he’s dark, brooding, and mysterious, and nothing like anyone I’ve ever met before. His presence in a room is noticeable, there’s no ignoring him, and I’m inexplicably drawn to him.
He turns to the shifters, letting go of my chin, but he doesn’t move further than that. “Even if I could compel her, I wouldn’t get rid of her memories. Just look at the blush still staining her cheeks from my dirty words. No, she’s entirely too much fun.” Slade leans in, eyes boring into mine, his lips once again inches from my own. The air around us is charged, crackling with tension.
Rhys shoves Slade, breaking the moment. “Fuck you, vampire. Heal her and get the fuck out of our cabin. You’ve outstayed your welcome.”
“Ah, but you’ve already invited me in, wolf. Touch me like that again and I’ll cut off your fucking hand.”
“I don’t care. She’s mine,” Rhys declares, eyes flashing yellow. White and black fur ripples down his neck and arms and my eyes bug out of my head.
Heat flares to life inside me at the declaration, like those phantom strings are igniting with need. Not to mention Slade’s proximity practically has me panting already.
“Fine, you have your answers,” Slade says, and I swear there’s a flash of regret in his eyes. Does he not like having to compel people? Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Despite what my body may feel for these men, my brain wins out, knowing they’ll be nothing but trouble. “I’ll grant you this favor and heal her, but only because I like her precious little heartbeat.”
“She could be lying,” Kathan interjects, his face twisted with a frown.
“I’m not.”
“I don’t believe you. Surely, a spy would know how to get around compulsion, right?”
Slade laughs. “As if. Witch, human, shifter, fae, vampire, it doesn’t matter the lineage. No one can resist a strong vampire’s compulsion, least of all mine.”
“I’m not a spy, Kathan,” I lament.
“That’s exactly what a spy would say!” he roars.
“Men and their infuriating—”
“Enough,” Caylix interrupts before I can sling something equally childish his way. His alpha power radiates throughout the room. The only one completely unaffected is Slade who tugs at his suit, a lazy smile on his face. Ugh, that damn vampire. “Slade will use his blood to heal the witch, and we’re going to keep her here for observation. We’ll keep you apprised of her condition.”
“Wait, keep me here for observation? Why?”
He shoots me a look that screams, Later. Don’t press the issue.
My jaw grinds as Slade’s fangs descend and he bites into his own wrist before he’s shoving it, blood and all, against my lips. His fingers come up to grip the back of my head and he cradles me gently, the softness of the action surprising me, as he urges me to drink his blood. I try to protest but the moment the tangy liquid hits my tongue, euphoria smacks me in the face, and I latch onto him like a starving madwoman.
Slade grunts. “That’s it, little witch. Drink my blood,” he practically purrs, his voice a seductive rasp like he’s getting off on it too. I glance up at him and see him bite his lip, the tip of his fang puncturing his lip. It makes me want to switch places and lick that tiny drop of blood, but his hold is firm. When he catches me looking, he grins, his tongue darting out to taste himself. Oh, my starshine. Holy witchery. I’m a goner. “Tastes good, doesn’t it?” he asks.
But as I drink down another mouthful, pleasure explodes behind my eyelids, and I’m lost to the sensation. I barely hear his words any longer, much less register them. Heat courses through my veins, scorching me from the inside out. My nipples pebble and I’m hypersensitive. Everywhere his skin touches mine ignites a new fire in me. I need him closer. I need more.
Like he can sense it, Slade slides his knee between my legs, and I grind against him, seeking a release—any release he’ll give me. My pace quickens as I ride Slade’s knee without a care in the world. Or a thought to my audience or where I’m at. It’s utter bliss. I can’t even imagine the sounds coming out of my mouth as another pull of Slade’s blood slides down my throat. I never want this to end because I’ve never felt like this in my entire life.
Rhys lets out a whine and the sound jerks me back to the moment. My cheeks flame as I shove Slade’s wrist away from me like it’s on fire and take a step in Rhys’ direction. Hurt flashes across Rhys’ face. Oh god, what am I doing? Here I am experiencing feelings for not only a vampire, but three shifters too. I’ve only just met them. Everything is muddled and confusing and I feel like I’m fumbling as reality comes crashing in.
His eyes turn gold, and he shifts, shredding his clothes as he morphs with his beast in the blink of an eye, and bolts out their back door. I swear there’s an echo of his feelings deep in my chest. Confusion wars with desire, but it slips away before I can fully examine it.
And without Slade’s blood keeping me amped, my eyelids grow heavy. I yawn, feeling so unbelievably tired suddenly. I mean, it’s been a long day, but this? This doesn’t seem right… I turn to Slade for answers. His eyes are swirling, and his chest is heaving with each breath, staring at me like I hung the moon. Amazement, desire, lust. It all twirls in his piercing blue eyes. He reads the unspoken question in my eyes. “It’s normal. You drank a lot more than usual. It’ll make you sleepy.” There’s a huskiness in his voice, and I wish he would talk longer, simply so I can listen to it.
“Right. I need—I need sleep,” I slur, my legs giving out. Before I can hit the floor, Caylix is there, placing an arm underneath me to cradle me in his arms and carry me back to the room I was in earlier. I’m out before my head even hits the pillow.