Chapter 18
One week later…
Dove racedout the side door of the mansion and into the servants’ courtyard. Panic nipped at her heels, propelling her into a full-out sprint. Her bare feet sped across the freshly mowed lawn. “This was a horrible idea.”
Shadows stretched out beneath the moon-lit sky. She scanned each one as she passed, certain at any moment she’d feel claws sink into her flesh. She dashed around a sculpted bush shaped like a stampeding horse. Her lungs wanted to burst. Harsh breaths threatened to give her away. Oh, why didn’t she do more cardio?
From the depths of the mansion echoed a hair-raising snarl. The predator was hot on her trail. Chills danced down her spine. Gah! She hated when he did that.
Into the rose garden she flew. Past hedges teeming with roses, racing headlong to her refuge. Lucky for her, the glass walls of the greenhouse were foggy and in desperate need of a good scrubbing. She dashed through the door, grateful when it didn’t squeak. Inside, large pots lined the space, their contents shriveled with neglect. Archie’s green thumb didn’t extend here, his focus fixed on maintaining the mansion and grounds.
She grabbed an abandoned work glove from the massive potting table, tiptoed to a windowpane, and buffed out a small peephole. With bated breath, she cupped her hands around her eyes and peered out. In the rose garden, nothing stirred. Not even the fireflies dared to reveal themselves. Her heart raced. Was it possible she’d actually outsmarted him?
Gentle fingers stroked her ankle. She yelped and spun, pressing her back to the dingy glass. “Show yourself, coward,” she declared in a firm voice, refusing to reveal how rattled she was. After all, this crazy game was her idea. How was she to know it would backfire so quickly?
Dark chuckling echoed in the enclosed space. Coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Oh, that was just creepy. Despite her nervousness, her lips curled. Well played.
Shadows thickened, twirling around her ankles. Her breath caught at the gentle caress. The ghostly fingers stroked higher, coasting beneath the hem of her loose dress. She opened her mouth to protest, but no words formed. It just felt too good.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, a soft moan rising in her throat.
Heated breath dusted her cheekbones. Lips nuzzled her temple. Her ghost lover became flesh and blood. Against her ear, he whispered, “Tag, you’re it.”
Dove blinked, peering up at Marcus. “You cheated. You were supposed to count to one hundred.” Since the demon showed such a fondness for games, she’d decided to incorporate a few in Marcus’s practice sessions.
“I did.”
“Really?” She tilted her head. “You found me pretty fast.”
“The shadows guided me to you.” He grinned like a kid with a new toy. “As if they were an extension of my own senses.”
When the demon was properly motivated, he lent his host a considerable amount of his power. For the past week, they’d worked tirelessly on Shadow-Steele’s new abilities. There was still so much they didn’t know or understand about their merger. Several skills they’d simply stumbled upon. Pretty much, it was a lot of trial and error. Flying by the seat of their pants. Totally Dove’s style, if not Marcus’s.
“That’s a handy skill. We didn’t even realize you could do that.” Her tone deepened, turning sultry. “I especially liked that trick you did at the end.” To her utter delight, Marcus had grown more comfortable around her. His dreaded hood a thing of the past.
With mismatched eyes, he stared down at her, his gaze dipping to her mouth. Her insides tightened, and she rose up on her toes. She tilted her face, hoping he would clue into her signals. Come on, Steele. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me!
Their mouths collided. His lips were tender yet possessive, taking as well as giving. Wanting to taste him, she asked nicely, licking his bottom lip. He opened his mouth, the thrust of his tongue setting off sparks inside of her. Heat coiled low in her stomach. She slid her arms over his broad shoulders, pressing the length of her body against his. Goddess, but the vampire could kiss.
She cupped the demonic side of his neck, stroking his textured flesh. Her fingertips tingled, the sensation like petting a dragon. Rather than recoil, he growled low, grasping her waist, pulling her in tighter. Relief flooded her and her heart twisted. It was one thing for him to bare his face to her, another when he welcomed her touch.
Firm hands grasped her bottom, fingers digging into her flesh. Needing to be even closer, she hopped up, circling her legs around his hips. He caught her easily, groaning against her mouth, and walked them to the nearest workbench.
There, he sat her on the wooden surface, breaking their kiss. Harsh breaths parted her throbbing lips. She gazed at him from beneath her lashes.
“Nothing with you is ever feigned, is it?” He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “Everything you’re feeling is written on your face. You truly want this.”
Um, yeah, you big dummy. She curled her calf over his hip and rolled her pelvis against his hardened shaft. His eyes went heavy at the contact, and the corner of her mouth quirked. “What gave me away?”
She circled his waist, untucking the tail of his button-down shirt. “May I?” She teased her fingertips beneath the fabric. Indecision and longing battled in his expression. At last, he nodded. Before he could change his mind, Dove coasted her palm up his flanks.
At the contact, breath wheezed from his lungs. He shuddered, his shoulders rounding as he melted beneath her hands. She stroked his flesh, both the smooth, unblemished side along with the rough. “Tell me if anything feels uncomfortable,” she whispered, afraid to break the spell.
“Hmm?” he muttered as though incapable of speech. Then his muscles tightened. Tension grew within him like a gathering storm.
Fine hairs prickled her neck. “Marcus?” She stilled, dipping her head to better see his expression. When his eyes lifted, the heat in them stole her breath. He cupped her nape, fingers sinking into her hair. Against her mouth, he snarled in an otherworldly voice, “My queen.I am yours.” Hold up, was that Shadow’s influence she heard? Did she care? Nope.
Her hands continued their exploration and he kissed her, setting in with fervor. As though he hadn’t kissed a woman in a thousand years. This time, his manner was rougher, wild, less practiced, less contained. Fates save her, she’d broken him, cracked that thick wall of self-control.
Whirling shadows buffeted her limbs. Energy crackled between them. Her glyph tingled, sparking static down her spine. She sensed darkness rising inside of him, a source of untapped power. It called to her own, energizing her senses.
His roughened palm coasted up her thigh, beneath her skirt. Teasing fingers grazed the very heart of her. She whimpered, aching for his touch.
“More.” She exhaled against his lips, rocking her hips.
“More of this?” he taunted, cupping her sex in his heated palm.
“Yes, lots more,” she groaned, thrusting into his hand. Over the scrap of lace, he stroked her clit. Back and forth went his delightful thumb. Her walls clenched. Oh, how he made her burn. It only seemed fair that she return the favor.
Hands shaking, she unfastened his pants. His unyielding manhood pulsed as though eager for her touch. She stroked his impressive erection, grasping him with a possessive grip. Marcus cursed at the ceiling. Energy swelled. Shadows wrapped them in a tornado, then shot skyward.
Glass cracked over their heads.
“Dove!” Marcus snapped his arms around her, caging her against his chest. Shards from the fractured roof fell down on them. Time froze. Her hearing felt muffled, as though she was underwater. With her face smooshed against Marcus’s neck, it took a moment for her lust-filled brain to shift gears. She peeked over his shoulder. Around them was a smokey dome.
“Whoa,” she gasped. “Marcus, look.”
His hardened body tensed. Sharp breaths heaved from his chest. “Marcus, look what you did.” She patted his shoulder, squirming in his grasp. “That was amazing. You used the shadows to form a barrier.”
She looked up at him, only to find his eyes locked on a dagger of glass that was stabbed into the table beside them. Oh boy, she could already see where he was headed with this. His jaw clenched, his gaze hardening.
“Now, Marcus. I know what you’re thinking and don’t. Accidents are bound to happen while we’re figuring things out. When I was a student, stuff like this used to happen to me all the time. One time, I tried to resurrect the Headmaster’s cat and—”
Bells chimed. Marcus stepped away from her. The dome faded by degrees until poof, it was gone. Sure, Marcus was rattled, but that was still one heck of a trick. They were totally practicing that tomorrow. Maybe while she threw darts at him. Yes. That would be fun.
Again, bells chimed. Marcus reached into the pocket of his—unfastened pants and extracted his phone.
He glared at the screen before answering, “Steele.” Dove watched the play of emotion on his face before that dammed mask of his slid into place. “That’s good news. Hold on. She’s right here.”
Warmth drained from Dove’s limbs. She pointed to her chest. “Me?” His controlled expression gave nothing away. He pressed the phone to her hand, then turned, fastening his pants. She held the speaker to her ear. “Hello?”
“Dove, mon coeur.”
“Vivian?”
Doveglance up just in time to see Marcus exit through the greenhouse door. Was he leaving her? She turned her attention back to the phone he’d pressed into her hand.
“Ma chérie, it’s so good to hear your voice,” Vivian said.
“Yours too. How are you? Is everything okay?” Dove hopped off the wooden bench, careful to pick her way around the broken glass.
“Bien s?r. Everything is fine. I’m calling with fabulous news. It’s a long story, but my ex, Alistair, is no more. The threat from Zion has been handled, and I’ve returned home. Gilbert has been hard at work, repairing the fire damage, and the house is inhabitable again.”
“Holy cow. That’s amazing.” Dove stepped out the door of the greenhouse. Her heart sank. Marcus was nowhere in sight.
“How are you, my darling?”
“Well. Um. It’s difficult to say. Good, I think.” She strolled to the stone bench, ripped a blossom from its stem, and sat. With the phone tucked on her shoulder, she picked at the petals.
“And Marcus?” Vivian prompted.
Pluck. He loves me. Pluck. Loves me not. “Well…” How could Dove explain something she didn’t understand herself?
“Ah, so it’s like that,” Vivian purred. “He is a most virile male, no?”
“He’s just… He’s so…” Confusing, infuriating, passionate, distant. Pluck. Loves me. Pluck. Loves me not.
“Say no more. I understand completely. I have often believed there is much more to Marcus Steele than he shares with the world.”
“He’s a man of many hidden talents.” Understatement of the year. Still, his secrets were her own. She wouldn’t betray his trust, not even to Vivian.
“You can say it.” Vivian sighed. “You want to stay with him. It is what I expected when you became his Chosen.”
Dove’s shoulders sank. Did she? Did Vivian pair her with Marcus, believing they had a future together? She must have seen something Dove didn’t. “I don’t know. We’re kind of in the middle of something, and I’d like to see it through.” An image of that kiss came to mind. Yes, there were a number of things she’d like to see through to their conclusion. Pluck. Pluck. Pluck. Loves me.
“But this is trèsbonne.” Vivian didn’t hide her delight. She knew Dove wasn’t one to commit to, well… pretty much anything. “And yet I sense you are hesitant. What is the problem?”
“Problem is, I’m not sure if he wants me to stay.” Plucky pluck. Petals fell from her fingertips. Loves me not.
“Of course he wants you.” Vivian was quick to respond as only her best friend and mentor could. “Marcus Steele is many things, but a fool is not one of them.”
As per their original agreement, Dove was to remain with him until Vivian was safe and Dove had helped him overcome his affliction. Check and check. Staying beyond the terms of the contract made things personal. Was Marcus willing to let her in? Did she want to be a part of his life? “Can I think about it?”
“Take all the time you need. You know I only desire to see you happy. You will always have a place with me anytime you want.”
Dove’s heart warmed, tears gathering in her eyes. How could she have ever believed that Vivian had abandoned her? As promised, the moment Vivian was safe, she’d welcomed Dove home with open arms. Problem was, she wasn’t so sure Vivian’s mansion was where she belonged anymore. “Thank you. That means the world to me. But enough about me. What about you and your hunky bodyguard?”
“Liam and I have reconciled,” Vivian said, a giddy lilt to her voice that only starstruck lovers used.
“That’s wonderful.” Vivian and her bodyguard had a long history. Apparently, they’d worked things out. If only Dove and Marcus could do the same. “I had a feeling about the two of you. I’m happy for you.”
“Now that the threat has passed, we plan to focus on completing the women’s shelter as quickly as possible.”
“The shelter has been your dream. It’s good you haven’t given up on it.”
“Remember, we only fail when we stop trying. Talk to Marcus and decide together. Regardless, I will see you soon and we will catch up. Armond plans to return in a few days. Apparently, he is enjoying his little vacation. Once he returns, we can make plans.”
“I can’t wait. I miss you both so much.”
“Miss you too, mon coeur.”
Dove ended her call, holding up her decimated flower. One petal remained. Darn. She’d lost track of whether he loved her or not. Guess there was only one way to find out.
Marcus stoodoutside on the balcony of his bedroom, overlooking the rose garden.
“Make her stay,” snarled the voice in his head.
Dove hurled the spent blossom to the ground and stormed through the garden, headed for the servants’ entrance. Determination darkened the flawless angles of her face. What did that mean? Was she coming to tell him she was leaving? He studied her for some indication of what she was thinking and came up empty. The faerie never behaved as he expected.
“She’s fulfilled her obligation. I have enough control to continue on my own.”
“Liar,”said the demon.
Shadows stirred the surrounding air, buffeting his body. Marcus gritted his teeth, trying to tamp them down. They resisted. A dark chuckle sounded. “I do as you request, not as you command. You are host. Vessel. Only she commands me.”
“Commands you how?” Marcus snapped, weary of the creature’s games. The past week had been trying.
“I am hersss.”
“Explain.” Possessive urges rose within him, his or the demon’s, he wasn’t sure.
“You bonded me to the necromancer.”
“How?”
“Bound us in blood and in spirit.”
His breath caught. “The Chosen ceremony.”
“Yesss,”the demon purred, sounding far too pleased with himself.
By the gods, Dove had formed a connection with the beast. They’d shared a bond from day one. His tension ratcheted, his heart inching up his throat. Dove was the demon’s master, not Marcus. No wonder he’d had so much trouble controlling the bastard. “Does she know?”
“No. Like you, she hears but doesss not listen.”
His tightening shoulders relaxed. Good. He put a lot of faith in the faerie, more than he’d given anyone in decades. To have that trust betrayed would shatter everything he’d regained. At once, he wanted to chain her to his side and yet run from her as fast as he could. If she could command the demon, she could command him. Control him.
“Female not a threat. Essence pure,” Shadow said, reading his alarm. “Make her ssstay. Fail without her.”
“Is that an order?” he growled.
“Request.”
Technically, Dove had fulfilled her end of their contract. With her help, he’d learned his possession wasn’t a weakness but a strength. One he intended to use to his advantage in his fight against Helen.
Dove was free to return to Vivian if she wanted. He’d given her little incentive to stay. “Look at me. No female wants to be saddled with a monster. She’ll run the first chance she gets.”
“Help me. I help you.”
Flames licked the side of Marcus’s face. He slapped his hand to his damaged flesh. “Stop. Damn you! What are you doing?”
Agony dropped him to his knees. He opened his mouth and yet no sound emerged, the pain locking his scream in his throat.
“Infant,” the demon spat in disgust.
“What did you do to me?” Marcus ran his hands down his face, then froze. His face. His hideous, disfigured face felt… healed. He staggered to his feet. “How did you—”
Knocking sounded from his door, and the hinges squeaked. “Marcus? Are you in there?”
He gripped the balcony railing in front of him, his mind reeling. “Outside,” he managed to respond.
Anxiety locked him in place. What would Dove think when she saw him? Would she still demand he set her free? Could he?