Chapter 16
DARCIE
The kiss is hard and unrelenting.
Passion fueled our previous kisses, but they were nothing compared to this.
Des kneels on the bed. His hand tangles in my hair while the other slips between my back and the pillows and pulls me forward, deepening the kiss.
What is happening?
My heart thumps wildly.
Des has kept his distance.
I’ve barely seen him since Bella’s abduction.
He’s said we can’t be together.
That he doesn’t want me.
So why is he here now? Kissing me like he needs me?
Who cares?
My hands land on his biceps, and I hold tight as his mouth melds with mine.
I tilt my head to the side. Stubble brushes against my cheeks. My toes curl.
Desperation flows through me. My fingers trail up to his shoulders and down his chest. Heat warms me from the inside out.
Des is so big. So strong. So different than any other man I’ve ever embraced.
My thoughts try to drift to Kevin. I yank them back.
Des’s lips part.
I follow his lead.
When his tongue slides inside my mouth, my core turns molten. My entire body runs hot. Sweat trickles down my spine.
He continues to kiss me without reservation. No hesitation.
Whatever possesses the powerful Immortal remains in control.
This is all so much, too much.
But I don’t want it to stop.
I can’t stop.
My hands dive into his thick hair, and I drag my nails down across his scalp.
A deep growl vibrates from his throat.
He presses me closer, and his teeth catch my bottom lip.
A pathetic whimper leaves me.
He goes still.
No, no, no!
I surge back into him, lips finding his with unbridled passion and unfettered restraint.
Des kisses me back with one long, delicious beat, then groans and peels my hands from him, pinning my wrists lightly to my sides.
He pulls back, and his forehead drops to mine.
“Timeout,” he whispers, voice scratchy.
I twist under his hands, desperate to draw him closer. “I don’t want a timeout.”
The words come out shameless, and heat flames my cheeks a second too late.
He huffs a broken laugh. “I didn’t come in here to make out with you on your bed.”
“What else is my bed for?”
Mortification snipes through the haze.
What am I doing?
I try to pull free, but his fingers stay wrapped around my wrists. I settle for leaning back and glowering up at the sexy-as-sin Immortal.
Des has rejected me one too many times.
How can I still succumb to him so easily?
“I came,” he says, his breath insultingly even while I still struggle with mine, “to see with my own eyes that you’re awake. That you’re okay.”
He sounds like the man I saw on the patio in my vision, empty in a way that terrified me.
The memory tightens something around my ribs.
Before I can assure him I’m fine, he adds, voice rough, “You need to stop doing this to me.”
I blink. “What?”
“Getting hurt. Being in pain.” He swallows, eyes skittering away like the words are glass. “I cannot take much more.”
My spine snaps straight. “It’s not like I did it on purpose.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
I have so many things I want to say to him—so many questions that I’ve held in because he hasn’t been around.
Now, I’m determined to at least get the answer to this one.
“I’m no good at this, Darcie,” he says, meeting my gaze.
“Try,” I shoot back with a glare.
He exhales hard. “I have bad luck with soulmates. You know this.”
My heart threatens to beat out of my chest. “I’m aware.”
“Despite my best efforts, my involvement in your life has altered you irreversibly. Now, you’re suffering.”
He’s talking about the fact that I’m slowly becoming Immortal.
But that’s not his fault.
“What happened to me has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my mom being a secret witch,” I remind him.
His mouth tightens, and his eyes go distant. “The Creator enjoys torturing me. That is the only explanation for your bloodline.”
He finally releases my wrists.
“You’re upset I’m a half-breed.” The idea hadn’t occurred to me until right now. It hurts more than the loss of his touch.
His head snaps up. “Of course not.”
“Then why stop kissing me?”
His eyes flash with pain. “Because I shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
Because he doesn’t want this, Darcie. Don’t forget it.
Heartbreak and anguish coil tight in my chest.
I take the emotions and shove them down. I will let them out later when I am alone. I will allow myself to weep and scream at the injustices in my life that are out of my control.
But right now, pride demands I hold myself together.
“Understood.” I lean back into the pillows, eager to put as much space between us as possible. “Thank you for coming to check on me. You should probably get back to the meeting with the Nightsbane clan.”
For a moment, I don’t think he’s going to allow the subject change.
His now-hazel eyes search mine. I hold his stare, shoving every ounce of pain down as it tries to rise.
Finally, he releases a long breath. “I cannot believe your mother is Jennifer Bane.”
I blink. “That’s her last name? Bane?”
“Yes. She is a descendant of the warlock who founded the Nightsbane clan.”
Woah…
“And you know her?”
“I know of her,” he says. “Through Alexander.”
Of course.
“I wish I could've heard the rest of the meeting.” I stare at the duvet and tug on the same loose thread as before.
“You could.”
My eyes snap up. “What?”
“If you are Jennifer’s daughter, then you are not only a clairvoyant. You are a cognizant.”
Alex used that word earlier, and I’d assumed it was just a fancy synonym. “What’s the difference?”
“Clairvoyants can see forward in seconds, minutes, days.” He tips his head. “Cognizants see what they wish. Including the past.”
I stare. “You’re serious?”
“Very.”
I deflate against the pillows, mind racing. “What else can I do?”
“That,” he says, “I do not know. You will need someone more knowledgeable about your gifts.”
My mother.
He doesn’t say it. He doesn’t have to.
“But you’re saying I could…revisit the meeting,” I say slowly, “because I’m a cognizant?”
“Yes.”
My laugh is small and skeptical. “I can’t even control my visions. Why would I suddenly be able to throw myself into the past on command?”
“Close your eyes and try.”
I shake my head. “That’s not how this works.”
“How do you know?” he counters, a spark of challenge lighting his gaze.
I clamp my mouth shut before a snarky answer can escape.
“Here,” he says, shifting closer until his knee presses the mattress near my hip. He takes my hand again, anchoring me. “I was there. Focus on me. Picture me in the ballroom. Then pull your perspective into mine.”
I stare at him, ignoring how his touch elicits sparks up and down my arms. “You realize that sounds insane, right?”
His mouth twitches. “It’s no less insane than any of the other truths that have been revealed to you lately.”
Good point.
“Now,” he continues. “Close your eyes.”
I give him one last you’re impossible look, then let my lashes fall.
“Good. Now, relax.”
I shift my hips down so I lie on the bed, and I let my body sink back.
“Perfect,” he murmurs. His breath brushes my cheeks. “Now, picture me.”
Easy.
My mind supplies him instantly. Crisp uniform. Measured stance. The way his presence takes up space without trying.
God, I have it so bad.
“Once you see me,” he says, “imagine viewing the pace through my eyes. Switch perspectives.”
I want to crack an eye and tell him that’s ridiculous.
Then, something curls around the edges of my mind.
Fog. A cloud?
It hovers at the edge of my sight before slowly beginning to creep forward.
I suck in a tiny breath.
“Focus, Darcie,” Des’s encouraging words fade into the distance.
I am…
The cloud wraps me up in its delicate embrace.
Air leaves my lungs in a small, shocked sound as the room, the pillows, the present, everything, tilts.
And I am pulled back into the past.