Chapter 23
23
JOSEPHINE
A fter a five-minute drive down a winding gravel road, Roman parks the car in front of a small cabin nestled among pine and fir trees.
“It’s something out of a postcard,” I murmur.
“It’s nothing fancy. Two bedrooms. Although there is a hot tub on the deck out back.” Roman raises an eyebrow. I blush as images flicker through my head in a dirty slideshow.
Roman chuckles as he gets out of the car. He’s already on my side, opening the door before I have a chance to let myself out. He waves a hand, and his magic flares to life, igniting a series of small lights along the path. His magic is dreamlike and luscious. I’ve always been told that dark magic taps into a poisonous side of powers, but that’s not what it feels like to be this close to Roman when he uses his power.
His magic calls to me. It’s a warm burst of power that enfolds me in its hold and seeps into my skin. My own magic strains to twine together with his. It wraps around me, along with Roman’s spicy scent. I sway toward him, drawn in by his very essence. Roman presses in with a breathy exhale, our bodies flush, my back pinned against the side of the car.
“What are you doing to me?” His lips move against my ear.
“That sounds like an accusation.” I’m breathless, my skin tingling everywhere.
“It’s a statement of fact. You have invaded my every waking thought. I can’t get through the day without checking my phone a thousand times, desperate to see your name on the screen.”
I can’t take any more. My body’s on fire. My brain is melting from his closeness and his words. The fact that he feels the same way and I’m not the only one who has been consumed with thoughts of him is freeing. With a desperate sound, I hook my hands around his neck and pull his head down. I meet him in a kiss that puts all the others to shame.
Roman kisses like he does everything, with confidence and control. Some foolish part of me wants him to relinquish that hold and let go completely. I suck on his bottom lip, dragging my teeth a little. I don’t know where this boldness is coming from. I’m so damn inexperienced I might as well be a virgin, but Roman makes me feel sexy, seen.
Roman rocks against me, his erection pressing into my stomach. I moan, my nails digging into his neck.
“Fuck.” Roman pulls back, his breaths coming in rapid pants. “If we don’t stop, I’m going to screw you against this car. While that has its appeal, I promised you a date.”
I drop my head to his chest, an embarrassed huff of laughter surfacing. “Yeah. Good call.”
Roman picks up my hand again, and my heart swoops. He leads us up the gravel path to the front door. The exterior of the cabin is well-tended. It’s obvious they take good care of this place. He keeps hold of my hand while he presses a code in the keypad and opens the door.
I follow Roman inside and squint as he turns on the lights. After being in the dark for so long, it takes a second for my eyes to adjust. Despite Roman’s claims that the cabin isn’t anything fancy, it’s perfect. There’s no separation between the kitchen and living room besides a sturdy farm table with eight chairs. Overstuffed furniture arranged around the fireplace and a large television mounted above it give the living room an inviting feeling.
Visions of sitting in front of the fire, reading a book, while a snowstorm roars outside hit me like a premonition. Roman’s head in my lap while he sleepily watches TV and I read. My feet up on the wooden coffee table, a warm drink within reach. My skin tingles. I want that so badly.
“Is our date with the hot tub?” I won’t lie; that does sound kind of nice, but it’s also like something a frat boy would suggest as a first date.
“That is tempting and not totally off the table, but I have other things in mind for tonight.” Roman grins at me. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He exits the way we just came in, and I obey.
For a second.
I’m quickly drawn to the photographs that adorn almost every surface. They’re all of Roman and his friends. Spanning from childhood up to a recent shot of the four of them here at the cabin. It looks like Ambrose’s arm is outstretched as he takes the photo, a smirk and a twinkle in his eyes. Odie is smiling, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Roman is glaring at the camera, and Bram has a devilish but somehow chilling look on his face.
The sound of the door closing pulls my attention away from the photographs. Roman is holding a canvas bag and an armful of thick blankets.
“Are we making a fort?”
“We can do that after. Follow me.” Roman cuts across the room, heading toward a sliding glass door. “If you wouldn’t mind.” He nods toward the door. I grab the handle and it opens with a quiet shush. Roman steps outside, and I follow him onto the deck.
There’s the infamous hot tub.
Just beyond is the lake, which is partially frozen over. The deck is large and wraps around the entire back of the cabin. There’s a table and chairs off to one side and a sunken level a few steps down with a fire pit. There’s enough room down there for a whole party to gather around. That’s where Roman heads, setting down his bag to lay out the blankets.
“Are we having a picnic?” It’s disarmingly sweet. Not something I would have imagined from Roman.
“It’s supposed to be a clear night tonight. If we’re lucky, we might be able to see the northern lights.”
I look up and gasp. The sky is packed with stars. Away from the lights of the city, it’s incredible to see just how many are scattered across the sky. I spot Orion and Cassiopeia, marveling at the swath of stars twinkling above us. It’s not like Mystic Hollows is a huge city, but there’s enough light pollution that you don’t get a view of the sky like this within its limits.
“Will you sit?” Roman gestures toward the blanket he’s laid out. I sit cross-legged, watching as he grabs the bag and kneels on the thick quilt. He lifts items out of the bag one by one. There’s a container of cut-up fruit and another with an assortment of cheeses. Next comes some crackers, sliced meats, and nuts.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t see this coming.” I look at the perfectly packaged foods.
Roman lifts his gaze, a guilty smile on his face as he rubs the back of his neck. “Full disclosure: I asked the chef at the hotel restaurant to pull some food together. I can cook, just for future reference. Not that any of this is cooked.”
“That’s really sweet.”
Roman laughs. “The bar must be low, if that’s what you think.” He pulls out a bottle of white wine, a few beers, and some water. “I didn’t know what you’d like to drink.”
“Wine sounds good. And the bar is pretty much non-existent.” I snap my mouth shut, realizing that could be interpreted in multiple ways.
Roman opens the wine and pours me some in a plastic glass. “Keeping it classy.” He opens one of the beers and taps it against my cup. “And I guess we’ll have to see about raising that bar.”
I gulp down a huge drink of wine. That comment implies there will be more of this in the future. How is that going to work?
No. I need to stop obsessing. I’m going to enjoy this night, even if it’s the only real date I ever have.
I take a smaller sip and pick up a strawberry. “Have you seen the northern lights before?”
“A few times. Never when I specifically tried, though.” Roman grins at me.
“That doesn’t bode well for us, does it?”
“I won’t be disappointed if we don’t. This is already the best night I’ve had in a while.”
I’m bundled up in my warmest jacket, a knitted cap, thick socks, and boots. I have gloves in my pocket, but between eating and the fact that Roman keeps touching my hands, I don’t want to put them on. Still, the chill of the night and the breeze off the lake have frozen the tip of my nose.
I take another drink, the wine already warming my belly and making my mouth loose. “When did your curse fully set in?”
Roman takes a long drag of his beer. He looks younger tonight in his casual clothing. He’s always so buttoned up and professional in his suits. It’s intimidating. His legs are stretched out in front of him on the blanket, and he’s propping himself up with his free hand. His eyes have barely left me since he sat down. He doesn’t look away now as he answers.
“I was sixteen when the curse started.”
I nod. That was the same for all my friends. None of our parents have ever shared much in the way of information about the curses with us. The most any of them told us were tales of the Briar Witch and it turns out those are pretty suspect. If Fitz is to be believed. And I think she is.
“I knew it was coming, at least. Bram thought because he was technically second born, he wouldn’t get hit. Fucking bad luck, I guess.”
“You have the same dad?” I ask. They have the same last name, so it’s an assumption on my part. I can’t imagine Vincent Blackthorn adopting a son out of the goodness of his heart. The rumors of his cutthroat nature might be just that, but there doesn’t appear to be any love lost between Roman and his dad, so they can’t be that far off base.
“Same dad, different mothers. Bram’s only six months younger than me. You can imagine how well that went over in our house when my mother found out.”
I cringe. I’m sure nothing in that situation was pleasant. My heart pangs for Bram. He was innocent of that mess. It couldn’t have been fun or easy.
“His mother comes from another powerful magical family, so lucky him, he got his very own curse.” Roman tips his head to look up at the sky, but I watch him. Drawn to his chiseled cheekbones, brooding jaw, and aquiline nose.
“My curse crept up on me, little by little. I used to test myself.” His brows furrow, and he shifts his weight to free his hand. He pushes back the sleeve of his jacket to show me the inside of his forearm. Burns mar the skin from his wrist to his elbow. “I’d hold it over a candle or press it against the stove, desperate to feel something. Eventually, I stopped trying.”
I run a finger over the burns, and Roman shivers, his eyes blazing with emotion.
“Do you want to heal them?” he asks, his voice quiet.
“Do you want me to?” I lay my palm flat, curling my fingers around his arm. I can remove the marks if he asks.
“They’re not pretty.”
I look up to find Roman searching my face. “Honestly, you’re a little too perfect already.” Roman arches one brow, and I chuckle. “I think they’re important.”
“How so?” He relaxes his arm, his hand falling into my lap.
I don’t have scars like this on my body. But I understand how it feels to despise a part of yourself. My wounds reside inside me. “They’re part of you. A tapestry of your life. I think it’s a reminder that you fought to hold on to a piece of yourself. We can’t control the battles we face. You can do everything right and still lose. That doesn’t mean you give up.” I laugh. “I’m sorry. I don’t know when I turned into a guru. Feel free to ignore me. I’m not so good at taking my own advice.”
“Did you give up?” Roman’s voice is rough.
I don’t even know what he’s asking me. Give up fighting against my curse? Give up fighting against my mother? I don’t know that I ever started. I simply let her control me without question. I let the curse become my identity and never stopped to ask if that’s all I was.
“Yeah. I did. But I think…I don’t want to do that any longer.”