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Chapter Eleven
Tamsin
My teeth are chattering when I get back to the house. But everything else inside me is burning hot. I’d like to think it was anger, but that would be a big fat lie.
I can’t stop playing that kiss over and over in my head. The warmth of Blake’s body against mine. The cool touch of his magic. The expert way he’d moved his tongue. His hard cock shoving against my lady parts.
“Are you okay?”
I jump at the sudden voice, but it’s just Nessa. A blush creeps across my cheeks. Luckily, my skin is already red from the frigid temperature. “Sorry, you startled me.” I shake my head. “Everything’s fine.”
“Is Blake Blackstock giving you trouble?”
I realize she’s holding a rolling pin in her hands, and the fierce expression on her face melts my heart a little. “Oh, Nessa. You’re a dear.” I take a deep breath and let it out. “Don’t you worry, no man is going to get the better of me.”
She shoots me a dubious look. “Blake is no mere man.”
That’s for damn sure. “Well, true as that may be, you don’t have anything to worry about.”
Because I’m not about to let some warlock-in-shining-armor derail my life. I came here very temporarily. I’ll solve this demon issue with my sister, figure something out with the Night Guild, and go back to Manhattan to continue my career. I’m not going to stay in hiding. Especially not here of all places.
Nessa and I wait until Ainsley gets back a few minutes later, then we finish dinner together. Ainsley confirms that she’d been able to perform the memory spell. We’re already well on our way to stepping out of the Night Guild’s grasp. And we didn’t even need Blake’s help. Well, other than finding the creepy spy in the first place.
My stomach does an uncomfortable flip. I don’t want Blake thinking I owe him.
Feeling frustrated and exhausted, I excuse myself right after we eat and head upstairs to take a hot shower. It feels like I didn’t make a lick of progress on the demon cure today. The only thing I did manage to do was run into Blake and get all hot and bothered. He’s a distraction I really don’t need right now.
As I’m toweling my hair dry, a text pings in on my phone. I swipe the screen and my eyes widen as I stare at the words there. Words and a photo.
Bought us a condo with an amazing view of the Hudson. Like it?
It’s from John, the guy I used to date. We’ve been on-again-off-again for years. Mostly off. We’d dated, and then briefly we’d been an actual couple, but we were both too tied up in high-powered careers to make it work. I’d called it quits and for the last couple of years it’d been only casual. We’d go to charity things together, have drinks from time to time, nothing remotely serious. But then, out of the blue right before I had to leave Manhattan, he’d proposed. With an insanely expensive three-carat diamond. To someone who isn’t even his girlfriend.
And now a condo?
Who does that?
I’d told him no on the proposal and reminded him we were not getting back together, and then shortly thereafter I’d gotten that fateful text from the Night Guild. When they’d sent me a video which still gives me nightmares, a video of Luciana changing into a demon. And my world had spun out of control, just like that.
John thought I left town because I was running away from commitment, even though I told him I had a family emergency and I’d be gone for a while. So, I guess this condo is his second baller move. A grand gesture to try to win me over. I have to admit it’s a bit flattering, but I just don’t feel any passion for him. I don’t even know why exactly… he’s handsome, and smart, and insanely rich. That more than anything is why I’d broken up with him years ago.
That spark is just missing.
Spark…
Blake’s kiss floods my mind again and I groan and cover my face with my hands. I will not give in to this. I can’t. Because giving in means staying. And that’s the one thing I can’t do.
***
The nightmare seems like the memory at first.
I receive a text message from an unknown number. A video. I almost ignore it, except for the three words on the screen: We have Luciana.
With trembling fingers, I click on the video file. My heart races in my chest, and all the air in my lungs disappears, replaced by a crushing fear.
It begins to play. I see Luciana, strapped to a chair. Eyes wide, a gag in her mouth. Someone in a hospital gown stabs a needle into her arm. She winces and goes still.
The transformation is almost immediate. Luciana jerks and her skin begins to distort. It looks almost like it’s melting. Horror and nausea press at the back of my throat as her body swells and turns orange. Spikes and horns begin to thrust upward from her limbs and her head. Her eyes go last, their natural blue swirling and then turning a shockingly vivid yellow.
