AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The silverware clinked a final time as we set down our forks, the meal finished but the hunger far from sated. The candle flames danced between us, casting shadows over Nash's face, making him look every bit the predator he was. And me? I was playing the role of willing prey in this twisted game.
"Alright," Nash began, his voice a low hum that vibrated through the thickening air, "I'll draft up the contract tonight."
I arched an eyebrow, feeling the corner of my mouth twitch into a smirk. "You're going to put our... 'arrangement'... in writing?" The words tasted like irony on my tongue.
"Every term, every condition." His eyes, deep pools of determination, locked onto mine. "You'll have it for review and your signature tomorrow."
"Sounds so fucking formal." I scoffed, pushing my chair back with a restless energy. "A contract for a relationship more fucked up than a reality TV show."
But as Nash nodded solemnly, something in his genuineness made me pause. This wasn't just another one of his chase-and-conquer games; there was something real flickering in those brown depths. Something that scared the hell out of me because it whispered promises that sounded dangerously close to hope.
"Thank you, Nash," I murmured, almost against my will, "for the... romance?"
"Call it what you want," he said, staring down at me condescendingly. "But you'll see. It's all for you, Celeste."
"Always about me, isn't it?" My words were laced with a sarcasm that didn't quite feel right.
He gave me a look then, one that saw through the bullshit, through the walls I'd built brick by bitter brick. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, and left me alone with the smoldering wick of a candle and a mind buzzing like a hive of pissed-off wasps.
Fuck, this was really happening. Entering into whatever-the-hell-this-was with Nash was going to flip my world upside down and shake out all the loose change. But as I replayed his words in my head, I couldn't deny the electricity that sparked every time he came near. We were two magnets, and no matter how much I tried to point south, he kept pulling me north.
Jesus Christ, Celeste. I rubbed my temples like I could massage away the impending headache. Signing contracts now? What's next, a collar with 'Property of Nash Rigby' engraved on it?
But, for all my swearing and internal rants, the truth lay bare and ugly in my chest. I wanted this. Wanted him. Because no one had ever looked at me the way Nash did—like I was a damn masterpiece he couldn't wait to defile.
Chapter 27
Celeste
The fucking screens never stopped blinking. Information flooded in—a tsunami of data, and I was drowning in it. The command room of my Italian fortress hummed with the life of a dozen machines, their glow painting my face in shades of blue and green. Each monitor was a window into the chaos back in Chicago. A killer on the loose, one with a taste for blood—blood from my community, the LGBT folks who didn't goddamn deserve this nightmare.
"Any leads?" I barked into the comm, my voice sharp as the edge of a knife. Only static replied, a hissing mockery of my desperation to protect her—Celeste, the artist with eyes like the calm after a storm. If anything happened to her, I'd tear the world apart.
"Fuck!" I slammed my fist against the desk, feeling the reverberation through my knuckles, but not the pain. Being a vampire had its perks, but right now, I would've traded immortality for answers.
My brother's memory flickered like a ghost at the edge of my consciousness. He was gone because I hadn't been fast enough, strong enough. Celeste wouldn't suffer the same fate. Not while this heart—dead or not—kept beating.
I needed something else, someone else—someone with powers that punched a hole through reality and danced on the other side. I grabbed the encrypted phone and dialed a number that wasn't listed anywhere. It rang once before she picked up, her voice rich as the soil of her herb garden.
"Ah, il mio caro amico," she crooned, a hint of mischief lacing her words.
"Cut the crap, Esmerelda. I need your help," I growled, getting straight to the point. There was no time for pleasantries when lives hung by a thread.
"Such urgency," she tsked. "And what brings the mighty Nash Rigby to seek out an old witch like me?"
"Someone I care about might be in danger. I'm coming over." I didn't ask—I didn't need to. She owed me, and we both knew it.
"Always the knight in shining armor," she said, a chuckle in her voice. "Very well, come to me."
"Thanks," I snapped, ending the call. Esmerelda's magic was unpredictable, dangerous even—but fuck if I had any better options. I stood, the chair rolling back with a screech, and strode towards the door. Every second counted, and I was already sick of wasting them.
The moon hung heavy in the ink-black sky, casting an eerie glow over the jagged landscape of my thoughts as I left the confines of my high-tech sanctuary. Fuck the monitors, fuck the updates—I had to act, and this was the only way. My Ducati roared beneath me, devouring the distance between me and Esmerelda's hideout like a beast starved for the hunt. The familiar rush of night air against my skin did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest; every mile covered was another mile Celeste was vulnerable.
The Italian village was a goddamn maze of secrets, its narrow streets whispering tales of ancient vendettas and long-forgotten sins. I knew them well, these serpentine alleys, shadowed and lined with buildings that had stood silent vigil for centuries. Their stones could tell you stories that'd make your blood run cold—if they felt so inclined. But tonight, they were just obstacles in my path, and I twisted through them with practiced ease, the roar of my engine echoing off their solemn facades.
Esmerelda's cottage was tucked away at the edge of the village, shrouded by gnarled trees and draped in the kind of silence that made even a vampire's heart beat faster. I killed the engine, letting the stillness settle on my shoulders like a cloak. I didn't bother knocking; doors are for mortals, and time was slipping through my fingers like sand.
"Wow, Nash, ever heard of subtlety?" Esmerelda's voice cut through the dimly lit interior as I stepped into her realm of shadows and dried herbs. Her eyes glimmered like two embers in the dark, and I could feel the hum of her power vibrating in the air—raw, untamed, dangerous as hell.
