Witch (Cursed book 4) Page 21

  She shoved him again, "Sam, died because of you." His shirt singed from the sparks off her hand. She let the energy shoot from her hands again and he flew down the hall, riding the wind coming off her. She stood at the end of the hall with the cool wind surrounding her. Her dark, wavy hair blew around her body. She felt the black take over her eyes. Her vision grew sharper.

  His back slammed into the wall at the end of the long corridor. She walked toward him. He flashed out of the grip of her wind. His hands were at her throat, "Don't make me do something I will regret."

  She jerked, sending electricity from her body. He was blasted off of her and into the wall. She turned, seeing black blood drip from his lip. He laughed, "You are getting more powerful, Ophelia." He wiped the blood from his mouth and pulled his ass out of the broken wall. White dust filled the air. He rubbed his back, "You know those walls are reinforced.”

  He flashed as the lightning bolts shot from her hands, starting a small fire in the wall. Her breath raged from her flared nostrils. She looked around to ensure no one had witnessed his or her magical abilities. She looked at the smoke coming from the wall. She leaned forward and blew ice across it.

  She walked back to the room.

  Hanna raised an eyebrow, "What the hell?"

  "Oliver."

  Giselle snarled, "I'm biting him when I turn again."

  Hanna turned her head, "You'll die, dummy. You can't feed off fallen."

  Giselle's dark eyes flashed, "I never said I was going to feed. I said bite." She moaned in pain and clutched her right side. Hanna stroked her face and looked impatiently at the door.

  Her face dropped.

  Ophelia looked to see a stunning man walk through the door. Her jaw dropped. He was refined and sexy. She tore her gaze from him and glanced at Hanna who was completely flushed.

  Hanna stammered, "Mar-Marcus. Thanks f-for coming."

  His face looked pained.

  Ophelia could feel the tension in the air. Hanna's bracelet was glowing like it was a raging flame, or lava.

  Giselle smirked at Marcus through the pain, "Hey, I need you to save me again."

  "What? Hanna, I need to speak to you." He ignored Giselle.

  Ophelia melted at his accent. He was sexy and had an accent. She envied Hanna for a moment. The hottest guys loved her.

  Hanna looked like she was battling her emotions, "Ari."

  "Ahhh, I see. So what was this alternate world like? Were we married? Living in Romania in the summers and here in the winters?" His smile was bitter and pained.

  Hanna shook her head, "You were dead."

  He looked confused, "And yet, I saved my last breath to save your friend? Aren't I kind."

  Hanna's face was frozen, "The kindest. Will you help her?"

  Marcus shook his head, "No."

  Hanna took a step forward, "I would be... grateful."

  He laughed, "Oh Hanna." He grabbed her hand, "You'll be grateful anyway, I'm afraid."

  Ophelia took a step toward him, "Let her go."

  He smiled at Ophelia, "If Hanna needed protection, I assure you, she wouldn’t be my girl."

  Hanna pushed away from him, "I'm not your girl. We had this conversation." Her eyes filled with regret, "I know where his heart is. I know how to free him."

  His face filled with rage, "Then take it."

  He stepped forward and put her hand on his chest, "You take it, because I don’t want it without you."

  Hanna clenched her jaw.

  Ophelia was lost.

  Giselle was clutching her side again. Her face was pinched in pain.

  "Please."

  Marcus moved like a snake striking her arm, "See you soon." He pulled her in and kissed her face. His hand moved like a viper again and struck the bracelet on her wrist. He flashed a grin, "I like you better naked, you know that."

  Ophelia watched the bracelet fall to the ground and smash against the hard floor. The shells were white. She had never seen them white.

  She felt a strange sensation instantly. She hated Hanna. It was stronger than hate. She despised and detested her. She was gross and sleazy. Ophelia shook her head, "What is that?"

  Hanna scowled, "That is the call of a siren." Her eyes pleaded, "Please, don’t hate me."

  "I won’t. I know it isn’t real."

  The doctor came in and flashed a charming smile at Hanna, "My love."

  Ophelia watched as Hanna pulled him into her embrace. She let his hands roam her body. He kissed her. Hanna let him.

  Ophelia threw up a tiny bit as the older, and clearly married, doctor ran his hands over Hanna's jeans and breasts. Hanna made out with him for several minutes.

  Hanna pulled back, "Go and sleep, Doctor. Find a replacement doctor to take care of my friend."

  He nodded.

  Ophelia noticed the feeling of disgust had subsided a fraction.

  The doctor left, gripping his clipboard.

  Hanna sighed, "Fucking Marcus." She looked back at Giselle, "I gotta go before this shit gets real. Lydia has a spare bracelet, I think."

  Giselle breathed into her cramp, "Yeah. Tell his highness to kiss my ass."

  Hanna gripped her hand, "I will make him fix you."

  Ophelia knew Hanna and Marcus had dated and he had been a piece of shit to her, but she also knew Hanna loved him. She had seen the relief fill her face, when he'd walked in alive and mean.

  Hanna walked out as Aimee and Blake walked in. Blake reached for her, "Hi." He pulled his glasses off and pressed her against the wall.

  Aimee grabbed his arm and scowled, "Dude. You don’t want any of that. Keep it in your pants."

  He turned and shoved Aimee, "Leave her alone."

  Aimee laughed, "So Marcus destroyed the bracelet, huh?"

  Hanna sighed, "Take me to Lydia's."

  Aimee shoved Blake at Ophelia and flashed Hanna away, before Blake could react.

  He stood looking dazed, "What-what was that?"

  Ophelia felt stunned, "Hanna, I guess." She looked over at the massive erection making a tent in his jeans.

  He stood, looking dazed and lost.

  Giselle saw his pants and started to laugh, shaking her head, "Nooooo."

  Blake put his glasses on again and smiled, "She is amazing."

  Ophelia covered her eyes with her hand, "Okay, I'm going to go and find you some help."

  Aimee flashed back in the room again. She looked at Blake and shivered, "Dude."

  He looked at her. She looked at the bulge in his pants. He put a hand over it, "Oh my God." He ran from the room.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Aimee

  She woke from the bed beside Giselle to see Shane standing in the hall. He was in uniform and exhausted looking. She knew he had worked a night shift.

  "Hey, Aims."

  She felt a lump in her throat grow, "Hey."

  He looked at her, "You okay?"

  She shook her head, "Ari. She messed with the fates again."

  "What does that mean?"

  She felt sick. She remembered when they broke up only weeks earlier. He was crushed.

  She looked at Giselle sleeping on the bed, "I can't do this anymore, Shane."

  He sighed, "Not this shit again, Aims. Come on. We've come so far this year. I told you, I'm fine with it."

  She felt her gaze harden, "I know, but I'm not." It was a lie. She knew it was a lie. She wanted him more than anything in the world, except Aleks.

  His gaze hardened, "I've been here every step of the way. Dealing with your fucked-up friends and the bullshit your life is involved in, and this is it? This is the extent of the emotion you have for me in the end?"

  She nodded. She had broken up with him already. She'd done the big talks. He just didn’t remember them. She couldn’t change the way her heart was closed off to him.

  "Fuck you, Aimee. You know that I'm sick of this shit. You're a nightmare. A walking disaster. You're worse than Alise. At least she knows what she wants in life."

&nbs
p; She nodded again. Her heart stayed closed off. She'd gotten good at it. She watched him scream at her, but in her mind all she saw was the Nærøyfjord. The cold wind and the tears that fell on Aleks' grave.

  Shane shouted his worst at her. His blue eyes filled with tears.

  She felt nothing. She couldn’t. She knew the secret. He was too good for her. He always had been.

  "I love you. How is that never enough, Aims?"

  She blinked at him and spoke flatly, "Shane, it's not you that’s not enough. It's me. I will never be normal. We will never get married. We will never have children. I will never age or die. You will do everything alone. You will have my heart and nothing else. One day you will see that I'm not worth the sacrifice of everything else."

  He blinked, "You are when you're everything, Aims."

  She shook her head, "But I'm not, Shane. I'm everything right now. In ten years, when you look like my uncle or older brother, it'll be weird. In twenty years, when you look like my dad, it'll be creepy. When you're watching kids play sports or running to their dads with a bleeding knee, I won’t be enough. Trust me. I saw it the other way."

  Shane shook his head and walked out of the hospital room. She felt nothing. Her regrets and priorities had already been put in order when Aleks died. She had clung to Shane in an attempt to be the girl she was. She never factored in the girl she had become. Shane could never share the ways in which she had changed. He could never understand the one thing she lived for—the kill.

  She looked at Giselle and smiled. She needed Marcus to fix her. She flashed to the Nærøyfjord. The dark night was stunning. The hillside was the same. She turned to the graves on the hill and felt the emotions catching up with her.

  She walked across the huge rocks to the spot where they had dug the hole.

  She dropped to her knees.

  She felt the warm wind behind her.

  She smiled.

  She didn’t turn around. She didn’t need to.

  "I love you, Aleks. I always did. I just never knew how much."

  His arms were around her and the smell filled the air around her. The smell that had become home.

  "How do you know about this place?"

  She pointed, "We dug the hole there." She heaved.

  His grip tightened, "I died. How?"

  "Marcus."

  He laughed, "Well, can't say I never earned that. Did I return the heart to Henry at least?"

  She nodded.

  He sighed, "Good."

  She turned, "But the world is different now. Henry is a prisoner again."

  Aleks smiled, "But it means I know how to free him."

  She felt his warm breath on her face. She closed her eyes, "I prayed for this moment. I prayed you would come back to me."

  "I prayed you would finally see me, Aimee. From the minute I saw you sitting on the side of the road crying, I prayed you would see me."

  He hugged her tightly and flashed them to a dark room.

  He lit a candle beside the bed.

  She looked around, "Where are we?"

  His piercing, light-blue eyes and crooked smile made her heart soar, "My place."

  She grinned at him, "You have a place?"

  He nodded, "I have had it for years. Marcus, Dorian, and I used to stay here. It was like the bachelor pad."

  She looked back at the bed, "So you had some fun here?"

  He laughed and shook his head, "Uh, no. No, you know me better than that. Dorian on the other hand, and Marcus—wow."

  She laughed and backed away from him, "So they used this bed for a few hundred years?"

  "Yes, Aimee we had amazing mattress manufacturers three-hundred years ago. They worked wonders. And had a company called Sealy, I believe you know of them."

  She giggled nervously, "You're a dick."

  "Stupid questions, Aimee. I bought a new mattress this year." He took a step toward her.

  She grinned and took a step back, "Where are we?"

  He sighed impatiently, "I told you, my place."

  "Country?"

  "Italy."

  "No shit?"

  "None."

  She pointed to the painting she could see over the fireplace, where the candle was lit on the bedside table next to it, "You paint that?"

  He laughed, "No, uhm a very kind man named J.M.W. Turner did. I usually called him Joe."

  The butterflies in her stomach took a break as she turned away from him and picked up the candle. The painting was beautiful. It was a country estate painted in the dark, with the light of the moon and stars shining down on it and a field behind it.

  "He was known as the Painter of Light." She whispered the thing she remembered the most. She'd seen another of his paintings, the Slave Ship, in print of course. It was tragic and beautiful.

  "It was Marcus' home outside Colchester. Joe stayed with him for a while. He was painter in residence. We each got a painting that year."

  "You keep it here? It must be worth millions."

  He laughed and took the candle from her hand, "It is, so maybe don’t light it on fire. It's obviously irreplaceable."

  She turned to him, "You said you didn’t have houses all over Europe and money and blah, blah, blah when we met."

  He laughed, "I don’t. I have this apartment and a small farm."

  She raised an eyebrow, "How small?"

  He pointed to the estate house in the picture.

  She put her hands on her hips, "You have an English country estate? You said it was Marcus'?"

  "Aimee, I really don’t want to talk about farms and paintings and bank accounts. Marcus paid me with the house once." His bright-blue eyes were smoldering in the dim firelight.

  He placed the candle on the bedside table again.

  Her stomach dropped. She could feel everything quicken.

  His hand took hers and tugged gently. She stumbled forward. He smirked.

  She frowned at his grin, "What?"

  He laughed, "We haven’t been together like this since you were sick."

  She nodded, "So."

  "I had to be gentle with you then." His voice was full of mischief.

  He pulled her hard into his arms. His mouth crushed her lips against her teeth.

  His hands ripped the shirt from her body.

  She started to laugh nervously. He stepped back and pulled his own shirt off. She stopped laughing. His body was amazing. He towered over her. He pushed her onto the bed.

  He knelt in front of her and pulled her boots off, "Why do you wear these in the summer? It's hot as sin."

  She leaned on her elbows and smirked at him, "They're my ass-kicking boots, Aleks. I need ‘em."

  He dropped the boot on the floor. She winced, watching them be treated so badly. She had a special closet for them at home.

  He leaned over and pulled at the waist of her pants and slid the jeans off her body.

  His eyes sparkled in the light.

  She gasped, feeling the muggy air against her bare thighs. She hadn't noticed how warm it was.

  He leaned down and kissed her bare belly. His warm lips made her skin light on fire. The electricity of their touch hadn’t faded through his death and rebirth. She felt the energy in the air around them.

  His hands roamed her torso, caressing her softy and working up to a knead. She dragged a hand through his hair. He moaned into her stomach, "I need you, Aimee."

  He kissed his way to her lips. She met his fiery kiss with passion and desire. His hands worked their way into her underwear. She felt nerves dancing inside of her, as he dragged her underwear down her thighs.

  Her brain threatened reflection, but she shut it down.

  His kisses were enough. She felt her hands trying desperately to suck from him. She didn’t have to guard them. They pulled passion from him and filled her up but no life force was taken. She could feel his thoughts and desires, not like she knew them, but felt them. The urgency of his hands was explained in the feeling she stole from him. He was terrified the mom
ent would end. He wanted to savor as much as he could.

  She gripped his face, "This is it. You and me forever."

  He kissed her lips softly, "It won’t ever be enough, Aimee."

  He lay on his side. She grabbed the waist of his jeans. She could feel the bulge under them; it was about to burst the jeans open.

  She smiled and undid them, releasing him. He was magnificent. A true Viking in every form. She gasped seeing him. She pulled the jeans off and smirked, "Commando?"

  He shrugged, "I had a busy morning and it's summer."

  She kissed his stomach just below his belly button. He moaned as her fingers traced along his skin. The heat radiating from him was making the already-heavy air unbearable. He grabbed her arms and threw her on her back, "Maybe another time. I need you, now."

  He kicked his pants off and crawled on top of her. She could feel her own readiness as he slid inside of her gently at first. Her body expanded for his slow entry. She inhaled sharply.

  He looked at her, "I love you."

  He bent and kissed her mouth, sucking her lip as his body rocked back and forth against her. Her skin tingled, coming alive. Searing heat shot from her hands. He moaned when she touched him, as her power shot into him and sucked from him.

  "Aimee, stop."

  She couldn’t. He was thrusting in and out of her rapidly and the heat between them, combined with the sucking her hands were doing, was driving her wild. Her body burst in a bloom of sweat as she rocked her pelvis with his. Her stomach heated up and the fire crept low into her abdomen. Suddenly, she clenched against him as pleasure shot through her. Her hands pulled and he screamed. She wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or pain. She didn’t care. She rode her orgasm until her body twitched. She felt full. She felt him collapse on her. He lifted his head, "What the hell was that?"

  She started to laugh in between gasping for air, "I don’t know."

  "It felt like you were sucking my entire body."

  "Did it hurt?"

  He cocked a crooked grin, "That would be a no. I'm a better lover than this. I don’t have stamina issues, Aimee."

  She started to laugh, "Well, I'm not as easy to please as this."

  He kissed her cheek, "We have time to practice. Maybe save the sucking-hand thingy for the end."