Between two pine trees, the child who’d haunted him his entire immortal life stood before him, her vacant eyes boring right into his soul.
The blood on her dress was bright red now, and she held something behind her back, intentionally hiding it from him. Blood dripped onto the snow behind her, sizzling.
She took a step toward him. Then another.
The change in her routine was alarming, but Gabriel didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
The child leaned close, her breath sour. “Wake up, vampire prince. There’s a wolf at the door.”
* * *
“Fuck!” He bolted up from the floor and shot to his feet, gulping in air and desperately rubbing the chill from his arms.
He was back inside, the embers still glowing. No blood on the floor. No succubus. Nothing but his woman, sitting up and clutching the comforter to her chest, slowly blinking away the confusion of sleep.
“Gabriel? What’s wrong?” She got to her feet. Reached for his arm. “You’re trembling.”
Behind her, the child flickered back into view.
Gabriel closed his eyes. Took another deep, steadying breath. Opened them again. Focused on Jacinda’s blue eyes. On the wrinkle of concern between her eyebrows. On the silver-blond curl that fell over her forehead.
“It’s really you,” he whispered, and she smiled.
“Bad dreams?”
“I think I just…”
Behind her, the child shifted back into view. Unwavering. Bloody. Vacant.
“Gabriel, what are you looking at? What’s wrong?” Jacinda turned to follow the line of his gaze, and for a moment he wished she’d see the child too. That he wasn’t going fucking crazy.
“Do you see her?” he whispered.
“Who?” Jacinda looked back at him, her eyes narrowed. “Gabriel, there’s no one here but us.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
Jacinda drew closer, wrapping them both in the comforter, her naked warmth seeping into his bones.
“Just a nightmare,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”
But it was so much more than that.
Gabriel was almost afraid to look at her again, so certain he’d see the succubus, or discover that he’d fallen into another fucked-up dream loop. But when he finally found the courage to open his eyes, there was only Jacinda. Only the bright blue gaze of the witch he loved, searching his face, searching for the words to make everything better.
He cradled her face between his hands, his vision blurring with tears. “Bloody hell, Jacinda. Tell me it’s you. Tell me you’re real. Tell me I haven’t lost my damn mind.”
She smiled and rested her cheek against his chest, holding him close. “No promises on that last one, but it’s definitely me, and I’m definitely real. Now tell me, Prince. What’s got you so haunted?”
His answer was as honest as it could be.
“Demons and ghosts, little moonflower. Demons and ghosts.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sitting on the couch in nothing but a pair of sweats, Gabriel stared into the flames he’d stoked back to life, trying to parse through the gruesome visions. Jacinda was in the kitchen, brewing up a drink he hoped would soothe his restless mind.
Despite the warmth of the fire and the sound of his woman humming away in the kitchen, Gabriel couldn’t shake free of his ghosts.
