27—Forever?
Dallas gazed at the perfect woman, wondering how he got so lucky to have her looking at him like she was.
They hadn’t touched dessert and instead were slow dancing on the outdoor dance floor, surrounded by torches and sultry music, staring into each other’s eyes. His leg ached some, but he ignored it.
Bonhi’s expression turned contemplative. “What if Jameson is right?” she said. “What if the magical house really did disappear because I don't belong there?”
Dallas shook his head. “I think the house disappeared because we didn't bring Aila home.”
Realization dawned in his mind. “I have to call Aven,” he said, motioning her back to their table. They walked hand in hand, Dallas pulling out his phone and dialing.
Aven answered, coughing. “Sorry,” he said. “Hairball.”
“Skree, Aila must be the woman at the mental hospital that Jameson took me to see—you know, the one who fell from the sky.”
“Maybe…”
“She doesn’t glow but… she’s involved in ‘The Cause’ somehow, I know it, and Jameson knows it too. The magic house wants her out of that place and ‘brought home.’ That’s what’ll get it to come back, I know it.”
“Makes sense,” Aven said. “I'll tell Jameson… but Cora's got hyperemesis and—”
“Hyper what?”
“She's puking more than pregnant women normally do, and Jameson's distracted, worried about her and taking care of her.”
“Okay,” Dallas said, thinking. “It's up to us then. Will anyone listen to you?”
“Sure, Maze will. Ryder, too, if Shiloh doesn’t tell him not to. Maybe Riot and he’d bring Gemma.”
“We need a plan.”
“I guess for now we’ll scramble some surveillance. We should be watching her doctor anyway, in case the vampires come back. How can we get her out of there?”
Bonhi spoke. “I don’t know this case, but normally, someone related to her can request her release into their custody, or if she becomes lucid, they will cut her loose.
Other than that, you can request a guardianship, but it will take time…
or I could request a conditional release if you could show support for her that might return her to a healthy state. ”
Dallas smiled at her. “You’re like a legal wizard.”
She grinned and winked at him, making him want her even more.
“Witch, actually,” she teased.
Dallas laughed out loud. You believe, he mouthed to her, then he spoke to Aven, while Bonhi kissed his shoulder and rubbed his forearm. “What about out here in New Orleans? Mama Soline could use checking on.”
“Checking on for what?”
“Oh crap, I guess we didn’t tell you the whole story. She gave Thorn the clothing spell so he could hide something in his clothes from himself.”
“Hide something from… himself?” Aven sounded genuinely confused.
“I don’t know, bird, but then vampires came and tried to charm her. Two of them, I think they might have been your Count Chocula motherfuckers.” Bonhi looked at him, eyes wide. He nodded at her, still speaking. “She played dead and they left her alone.”
“Smart.”
“She’s so scared of them she even faked her own death and took on a new name. Now she’s Queen Mambo.”
“Shit. Let me talk to some people and see if we have any contacts in New Orleans. Can you stay out there another night?”
Dallas looked at Bonhi.
“I’ll check,” she said. She typed quickly on her laptop, then gave him a thumbs up.
“We can,” Dallas said. “Thanks.”
Bonhi smiled at him. “Can I talk to Dakota?”
“Uh, sure. Bro?”
“Yeah, she’s here.”
Bonhi took the phone off speakerphone. Dallas picked at the dessert.
“Hey, girl,” Bonhi said. “Tell me, how exactly do I do magic? Is it a ‘mind over matter’ thing?”
Dallas grinned, thinking she did believe, or at least was starting to. He couldn’t wait to see her fling blue lightning around like Dakota, and kill—
Dallas stiffened. Shit. Keeping Bonhi safe from vampires was going to be a hell of a lot harder for him than keeping her safe from humans. A cold sweat broke out on his brow. What if he couldn’t do it? What if he failed and the vampires got—
Dallas gripped the table hard, as dark images played through his mind, and then dark memories came, of times he’d failed before. Pain flared in his leg.
He looked left, whipping his eyes that way, focusing on his surroundings, not the images in his mind.
He looked forward, then to the right, studying one of the flowers on the table, its petals and leaves, the edges of the bud, anything to keep him from falling into that vicious void where he had no control.
“Okay, thanks. I'll try it,” Bonhi said, her voice sounding far away.
She put the phone on the table. “Dallas?”
He wanted to respond, but he couldn’t.
Bonhi spoke brightly into the phone. “Thanks guys, for everything. We’ll call you back.”
The phone beeped like she’d hung up.
Dallas bent over the flower. Bud. Leaves. Stem. Here. He was here, not there. He was safe, not dying. That was the past. Now was different.
Bonhi put her hand on his arm and held it still. Dallas moved his attention to the sensation of her skin. It felt calm… good… soothing.
The danger passed, draining from his thoughts like murky water down a pipe and leaving his limbs hollow and heavy.
Good job, he told himself, meaning it. Now that he was healthy, side-stepping an ‘episode’ really was a skill, like his shrink had said, and he was getting better at it.
Bonhi didn’t know what was going on, but she noticed the sweat on Dallas’ forehead and she kept quiet, giving him a minute.
He nodded to himself, then sat straighter and met her eyes. “I’ve struggled with PTSD,” he said flatly. He picked up a napkin and wiped his forehead.
“Oh,” she said, her heart going out to him. She couldn’t imagine what he’d endured, and the strength he’d needed to overcome the physical and mental obstacles of being shot and everything that’d come after.
“But I’ve been treated. I have tools and I’m better than I was.”
She nodded and caressed his arm, blinking back tears.
A waiter came by with a vase and put the wrapped flowers in it. “I'll have these delivered to your room, Sir.”
“Thank you,” Dallas said, nodding at the waiter, morphing the pain on his face into acceptance.
“This, too, please,” Bonhi said, handing over her laptop.
Dallas took a few more deep breaths, then stood and offered Bonhi his hand. She took it. Instead of heading for the elevator, Dallas steered them toward the street.
“Can we walk a little?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Yeah.”
He took them through the tunnel that separated the garden from the sidewalk, then turned right. People walked on both sides of the street in couples or small groups, laughing and singing along with the music playing from each lit-up storefront.
Dallas didn’t speak and Bonhi didn’t either. She held his hand and enjoyed his strong presence, trying not to think about what he’d been through. After twenty minutes, they were back in front of the hotel. Dallas took her to the elevator.
“Thanks,” he said, once they got inside and he’d pressed the button. He leaned against the back wall and pulled her close to him, staring into her eyes.
She shook her head. “I didn’t do anything.”
“That was perfect. You didn’t try to make me talk about it. You didn’t leave or freak out, and now…” His eyes darkened. “Now I feel better.”
“I’m glad,” she said, filing the information away for next time.
The elevator doors opened and they meandered to their room, hand in hand, glancing at each other.
Dallas opened their door. The flowers and laptop sat on the table.
“I’m sweaty,” Bonhi muttered.
“Are you going to take a shower?” Dallas asked.
“Maybe you'd join me?” Bonhi said, turning to look at him.
“Hell yeah!” He whipped his shirt over his head, showing off his thick muscles and sculpted abs.
Bonhi ate him up with her eyes. Delicious.
“Give me a minute,” she said and ducked into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and tucked her hair into a low bun, then she turned the water on. She opened the door, not looking for Dallas, but instead stripping her clothes off and climbing into the shower, feeling nervous.
The shower curtain parted and Dallas stepped in with his intact leg—her first look at him naked.
The muscular thigh drew her gaze upward.
His cock was semi-hard and thick, nestled in trimmed dark hair.
His abs were more an eight-pack than a six-pack, and his broad chest quickly drew her eye up, until she landed on his handsome face.
He grabbed a shower handhold and then carefully brought his prosthesis in.
Dallas took her in, starting at her feet and going up her body, knees, hips, belly, breasts, then collarbone and face, a pleased smile on his lips. She smiled back, gratified to see he was now fully erect, his thick cock standing tall and ready.
“Hi,” he said, holding tightly to the handhold, hot water spraying them both.
“Hi,” she said, taking a step into his body and grasping his cock overhand, pressing it between their bodies, then kissing his chest.
“Unnnh,” he grunted. His hips jerked forward and his body shuddered. “Shit,” he muttered, his big body collapsing slightly as Bonhi felt hot cum spill onto her fingers. “I was afraid of that,” he grunted. “I knew I should’ve jacked off before I got close to you.”
Bonhi smiled. He was still mostly hard in her hand. She kissed him, swallowing his upset. “I’m not worried about it,” she whispered. “I thought it might happen, but it doesn’t bother me. I don’t come just from penetration anyway.”
He captured her lips, giving her a sweet kiss, then saying, “You’re perfect, you know that?”
“I’m not, though,” she said. “Didn’t you hear the last thing I said?”
Dallas’ deep laugh boomed in the small shower, sending thrills through Bonhi. She let go of him and backed up, letting the water spray him down.