Chapter 11 #2
“Except that you are a witch. The very witch named in a prophecy about the destruction of my family.”
Fox groaned and threw up his hands. “Except that you have no idea if I’m actually the witch named in that stupid prophecy.
Fuck! Anyone can make a prophecy.” He waved his fingers at Winter and the vampire flinched.
“I predict that you’re going to stop drinking blood and survive solely on mashed potatoes.
” Fox dropped his hands down at his sides and glared at Winter.
“How likely do you think that prophecy is to happen?”
“Not likely.”
“Exactly. Except mine doesn’t hurt anyone. The other one fucks over me and your family.”
He was right. His ridiculous prophecy helped to cut through some of the panic, allowing him to take his first easy breath since he realized the ghosts were missing. He needed to stay calm and act rationally.
Unfortunately, despite Fox’s sensible argument, they couldn’t toss aside the prophecy as utter nonsense. They couldn’t risk it. Not when he was sure Damon believed it completely. Even if it didn’t endanger the Varik family, it definitely put Fox’s life at risk.
“Winter, before we went to bed, you said you trusted me,” Fox said softly, his green eyes wide and earnest. “I swear I am not going to consciously do anything to lose your trust. Regardless of your reasons, you saved me from Damon’s instead of killing me.
Please, I need you to trust me now. If I’m causing this, I’m not doing it on purpose. ”
Maybe he was telling the truth. He had to get to the bottom of this. He had to know if this was tied to the prophecy or just a strange side effect of being around the witch.
“Even if you haven’t cast a spell, it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t see or hear the ghosts,” Winter said with a shake of his head. “I haven’t since I met you, and you’re the only thing that has changed in my life recently.”
Fox paled. He might not have done anything directly, but Winter was positive that the change in his ability was linked to the witch.
Reaching for his power, Winter easily pulled aside the veil. There was some small relief when the gift worked as it always had without a single hitch. He kept his eyes locked on the witch as he stepped into the opening and closed it again behind him.
Fox’s mouth fell open and he just gaped at where Winter had been just a second ago. “That is so cool.”
Winter dragged his eyes away from the witch and looked around the room.
There was a ghost at the far side, standing by a shuttered window as if she was staring out of it.
He hadn’t seen her when he was standing in the living world.
He quickly walked over to the young woman wearing what looked to be a floral sundress.
“What are you looking at?” he asked just to see if he could still interact with them.
“Watching for the postman,” she murmured, not even looking over at him.
Everything seemed to be normal so far. Winter turned back toward Fox to find the witch looking around the room, as if searching for a sign of him.
He was still invisible to the witch. Crossing the room again, he moved around Fox, coming within an inch of brushing against him.
The witch shivered and slowly reached out to where he had been a second ago.
“Was that you? It felt…cold for a second.”
Winter continued to stand behind Fox, staring at him.
The same fear of betrayal ached in Winter’s chest. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted to trust Fox, wanted to believe in him, until he thought Fox had betrayed him.
The witch was far more dangerous than Winter had first believed, and not because of any spells or magic he wielded.
It was in his damn smile and light-hearted laugh.
It was in Winter’s own fucking urge to protect him.
Goose bumps broke out across the man’s flesh as his eyes frantically searched the room for him. His heartbeat had grown fast enough that Winter could hear its muffled beat in his chest.
“Come on, Winter. This isn’t funny.” Fox closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He held it for a couple of seconds and slowly released it again. “He’s not going to hurt me. Winter won’t hurt me,” he repeated to himself very softly.
Those words were a knife into Winter’s heart.
He was at war with himself. If he ended Fox’s life now, this prophecy nonsense would be at an end, right?
But he couldn’t. Fox trusted him. Believed in him.
He told Fox that he didn’t kill innocent people, and after spending the past thirty-six hours with Fox, every instinct was screaming that the witch truly was innocent. Even with this new ghost development.
Winter allowed himself a shout of pure frustration since no one but the ghost by the window could hear him. Why couldn’t he have one clear and easy answer?
Well, there was one he could still get.
Moving so that he was in front of Fox but standing several feet away, he parted the veil again, returning to the world of the living. Fox jumped and swore loudly.
“Come with me,” Winter said before turning on heel and marching toward his office at the rear of the loft.
He shoved open the door, revealing a large desk covered in computer monitors.
Hurrying over to the far wall, he unlocked one of the heavy-duty metal cabinets.
It was filled with a wide variety of guns, knives, and ammunition.
It was just one of his weapon cases. This one happened to have what he was looking for close at hand.
“What the fuck! I swear I didn’t cast a spell,” Fox shouted. Winter glanced quickly over his shoulder to see Fox take a couple of frightened steps backward.
Winter grabbed a coil of rope and locked the cabinet again. He turned toward Fox and grabbed his elbow. “I believe you.”
“Then what’s the deal with the rope?” Fox demanded as Winter pulled him out of the office and to the stairs.
“I need to test something, and this is the only way I can be one hundred percent sure of my results.”
“Winter—”
“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”
The vampire ushered Fox into the guest bedroom he was using and directed him to sit on the bed, near the headboard.
To his credit, Fox didn’t try to fight him.
He used his words to attempt to sway Winter, but the vampire gritted his teeth and ignored him as best as he could.
He wanted to trust Fox, but he couldn’t.
Not yet. Fear and hope were warring in his brain, making his fingers shake as he tied Fox’s hands together and then to the headboard.
“Winter! You let me think you were different from Damon and the rest of those bastards!” Fox snarled, already pulling at his bindings the moment Winter released him.
Winter grabbed both of Fox’s shoulders, holding him still. He hated himself, seeing the sheen of unshed tears in olive-green eyes mixed with rage and fear. “I need you to trust me.”
“Please, Winter. Don’t leave me like this. Not again. Please, I’ll do whatever you want. I won’t bother you or flirt with you anymore. I’ll never leave this room again,” Fox pleaded, anger giving way to fear and desperation.
“This isn’t a punishment, Fox. I swear. I will come right back. I have to see how much you impact my abilities. To do that, I have to be sure of exactly where you are.”
“I won’t move, I swear. Just don’t leave me tied up.”
Winter cupped the side of Fox’s face, shame and self-loathing burning in his chest. “I’m sorry. I swear this is only for a minute. I just need to check something, and then I’ll release you.”
Fox’s bottom lip trembled, and he bit it hard as if trying to get it to stop before he gave one curt nod.
Part of Winter wanted to linger, just until Fox had calmed and the memories of being held by Damon faded enough to stop his panic. But it was better if he got this done quickly. He had to know the truth. To find the limits. It was all just too much to hope after so many long years.
Jumping to his feet, he jogged out of the room and down the stairs again.
He paused and looked back at the window where he’d seen the ghost earlier, but she wasn’t there.
Using his powers, he peeked past the veil and she was still there in the dead world, but he couldn’t see her while in the living.
He stopped in the office to grab a knife prior to continuing to the front door.
There were no ghosts in the main floor, so he continued to move farther away from Fox.
If the witch wasn’t casting a spell, maybe there was just something about him that suppressed Winter’s natural ability to see ghosts.
But if that were true, there had to be some kind of range to Fox’s gift.
Silently, he descended the stairs to the main floor of the warehouse, where his cars were stored. The air was cool and a little stale. Lights flickered on with his movements, and Winter’s eyes darted around the open area. No ghosts and there were always two or three drifting through this area.
With the knife tightly clenched in one hand, Winter moved over to a side door and punched in a code to unlock it. The sun had set not long ago, but the sky would still be light for at least another thirty minutes. Enough to burn his eyes if he wasn’t careful.
The door opened slowly to the alley and he peeked out into the shadows. There was no one waiting to ambush him and steal Fox away. No cars passed along the street, but he could hear the rush of evening traffic in the distance.
Gazing toward the sidewalk, he started to step out of the doorway when a ghost strolled by, huddled under an umbrella as if it were trying to stay out of the rain even though there wasn’t a drop falling from the sky.
He’d found the edge of Fox’s gift.