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“I’m still not wearing the right shoes for burying a body.” Kristy lets out a sigh. “These boots are new.”

Lucas watches us, entertained. “Excuse me, ladies,” he starts. “But if disposing of the body is what you want, perhaps I can further lend my assistance. I’m probably better at it than you anyway.”

Right, I’m sure he is. He’s been getting rid of bodies for centuries.

“You know what?” I say before my better judgment takes control. “That would be really helpful.”

I take Kristy’s hand. “Let’s go. You’re still bleeding, and I need to search my book for anything and everything on Gatekeepers.”

I bring my cup of tea to my lips, looking out into the dark. I’m sitting on the back covered porch, waiting for Lucas to come back. Because somehow, I know he will.

And I want him to.

A blanket is over my lap and my Book of Shadows is on the table in front of me. All three of my familiars are around me, and they won’t be leaving any time soon. Kristy is back at her place, searching through her own books for anything about Gatekeepers.

“It just seems so…so vague,” I tell my familiars. “And almost hokey.”

I flip through another few pages and then come to the last quarter of my book. It’s all blank pages. I feel a little pang when I see the emptiness. Since I don’t come from a long line of witches, I don’t have a book that’s been passed down through the generations. The book I have is old, and about half of the spells and information in it was already there when I acquired it.

Kristy’s book is much more impressive, and if there’s nothing in hers about Gatekeepers, we could always go to the school and search through the books in the Academy’s massive two-story library full of magical tomes.

Pandora growls, fur standing on end. I look out into the night, heart racing.

Lucas.

I close my book and Pandora jumps on top, protectively lying on it.

Lucas moves like a blur in the night, stopping right in front of the steps to the back porch.

“You changed.” I run my eyes over Lucas. He has on a black t-shirt and dark jeans. There’s no more blood on his face, and even his hair looks a little neater.

“You didn’t. Though I have to admit I like the whole dark-Amish look on you. It leaves a lot to the imagination, and trust me, I’ve been imagining what you look like under those clothes since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“It’s the traditional dress code for gatherings.”

“You witches haven’t modernized much, have you? Criticize the vampires all you want, but at least we don’t make our women wear high-collared dresses,” he says, eyes glinting. He likes pushing my buttons, almost as if it’s a game for him.

“Most covens stopped the whole human sacrifice thing at least.” I pull the blanket off my lap and stand. “I happen to like black, and not every black dress I own is this high-collared. This one just happened to have the least amount of cat fur on it.”

Lucas nods. “Very well.”

“So, the body…it’s taken care of? No one will find it?”

“You act as if I’ve been drinking animal blood my whole afterlife.”

“Fine. I get it. You’ve done this before and know what you’re doing.” I inhale, trying to take slow, steady breaths to keep my heart from racing. I know Lucas was a killer. He’s a vampire, after all. And I know he very well still could be a killer. “And thank you.”

“You can thank me by letting me take you out to dinner.”

I move to the edge of the porch, hesitating before going down the stairs. “I think I’d like to go, but it’s just, uh, it’s been a long night.”

“I suppose being attacked by a demon is tiring.”

“Nah, that’s more annoying than anything else. Mostly because he killed himself before I could kill him.”

Lucas tips his head up to me. On the porch, I’m a few feet taller than him, but he still looks intimidating down at the base of the stairs. Binx follows me when I move onto the top step.

“Want to walk with me?” I ask, scanning the woods behind my house. “It’s the last day of the full moon phase and something about the moonlight always calms me.” I go down the rest of the stairs, stopping right beside Lucas. I look into his eyes, heart hammering away in my chest. This time, I don’t care if he hears it.

We don’t speak as we walk through the yard and head into the woods. Binx runs ahead, chasing a mouse.

“What else happened to make this a long night?” Lucas asks.

The wind picks up and I tip my head up to it, letting it rustle my long hair. “Somebody is hunting witches.”

“That’s a pity. Can’t imagine why someone would want to do that,” he says sarcastically.

I glare at him. “How do I know it’s not you?”

“You don’t. But I have no reason to kill witches.”

“Really? An old vampire like you has no reason to kill witches?”

He darts forward so fast he’s just a blur, pinning me up against a tree. “How old do you think I am?”

“Twelve hundred,” I guess, and push him away. Physically, there’s no way I’ll ever overpower him.

“I’m older than that.”

“Thirteen hundred?”

“Older.”

I swallow, aware that my heart is speeding up and a flush is covering my cheeks. I try to shove Lucas away again, and he responds with pressing his hips into mine.

“Keep squirming, I like it.”

Dammit. I do too. He feels surprisingly human against me like this, and he’s making me have a very human response. He parts his lips, tipping his head down toward mine, and grabs both of my wrists in one of his big hands, bringing them up over my head.

“Sixteen hundred,” I pant as heat rushes between my legs.

“Bingo.”

My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Sixteen hundred years old. Damn. No wonder he’s so strong. I close my eyes in a long blink, and when I open them again, his face is right there in front of mine.

I see it again, the emptiness reflected in that brilliant blue. Sixteen hundred years on this earth. That’s a long time to live…especially when you’re not really alive.

“You,” I start, voice coming out all breathy. I twist my wrists and he releases his grasp. “You lived through the War of Light and Dark.”

“I did, but I was not part of it.” He brings his head in again, studying my eyes. He holds me against him for another moment, and everything inside of me wants to cave and give in to him.

I want to close my eyes and tip my chin up toward his. I want to run my fingers through his thick hair and pull his face to mine. I want him to put his lips against my lips, to kiss me like I’ve never been kissed before.

“I am sorry about your fellow witches,” he says softly.

“Thanks. I didn’t know any of them, but a witch hunter is never a good thing.”

“No,” he agrees. “It is not.” He breaks away. “I imagine this news makes you sad.” He looks at me almost as if he’s afraid I’m going to burst into tears.

“Of course, but it pisses me off more than anything. I’d love to find this motherfucker and burn him at the stake.”

“You have had a long day. Are you sure you don’t want to get something to eat? I hear humans raving about comfort food.”

My lips curve up into a smile. “I’m never one to turn down comfort food.”

CHAPTER 8

“You can choose where we go,” Lucas says as we head back to my house. “Obviously.”

“If we stay in Thorne Hill, we have exactly two choices: Taco Bell or Steak and Shake. A burger and fries sounds good right now. And a milkshake.” I loosen the ties of the cloak around my neck. “Are you, uh, hungry?”

“I already ate,” he says and leaves it at that.

I nod, not sure how to respond. I’m curious, but I don’t want to be weird. Though he just buried a body for me. I think we might have skipped ri

ght past the weird phase.

“You can come in,” I tell him when we get onto the porch. I grab my Book of Shadows and the cats follow me inside. “I’m going to change.”

Rushing upstairs, I use magic to curl my hair. I take my dress off, trading it for another black one that’s too modern to wear to a gathering. It’s low cut, showing off my cleavage, and is tight around the waist with long, flowy sleeves. It ends right above my knees, and I add a long silver necklace, put on dark lipstick, and grab my favorite black boots.

It’s my go-to look, and yes, I know how cliché it is. That’s part of why I like it. I brush out my curls into loose waves and go back downstairs. Lucas is in the living room, talking on the phone. He’s speaking a language I don’t know and flicks his eyes to me when I come into the room.

There’s no denying the hunger in his gaze.

Whether it’s for my blood or my body, I don’t know.

He says something to whoever he’s speaking to and hangs up. Obviously checking me out, he parts his lips and flashes that cocky grin I’m starting to love as much as I hate.

“Black is your color, Callie.”

“It goes with everything.” I shrug. “Ready?”

“Always.” He stands and moves over to me with vamp-speed. I grab my purse and lead the way out the door. Binx follows us out, running toward the front porch stairs. He jumps into the night, not making a sound when he lands. He’s in his true form now, appearing as nothing more than a shadow in the night.

“You got a new car?” I ask, looking at the black Range Rover parked at the end of my driveway.

“I’ve had that one for about a year now.” Lucas unlocks it. “I almost forgot I had it. I’ve acquired a great deal of material items over the years.”

“Makes sense. Sixteen hundred years is a long time to have to, uh, collect and save.” I get in the car and Lucas zooms around, only taking half a second to get in and fire up the engine. He drives straight to the restaurant, not needing any direction from me.

A few other tables are taken, mostly by a younger crowd thinking it’s cool to still be out this late at night. We go to a table, and only a moment later a waitress comes over to take our order. I already know what I want. Given that there are only two places open twenty-four seven around here, I’ve become familiar with the greasy cuisine. After I put in my order, she looks at Lucas, and her cheeks flush just a little.

He seems to have that effect on women.

“Nothing for me,” he says, flashing her a brilliant smile. I half expect him to show some fang. “I’ve already eaten tonight.”

“Okay,” she says, voice a little breathy. She smiles back and turns, takes a few steps before slowing and throwing another look back.

“And now she’s wondering if you’re a vampire,” I say, leaning in.

Lucas gives me a half smile and reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. He flips it over and traces the vein that runs down my wrist.

“Do I smell different?” I ask, feeling my pulse bound underneath his thumb. “Because I’m a witch.”

“No. You smell different for another reason.”

“Well, as long as it’s not bad, I’m fine with it.”

He drags his thumb up from my wrist and over my palm. It takes everything I have not to shudder.

“Why were you at my bar last night?” he asks, letting go of my hand.

“I was in the area.”

“But why?”

I pull my hands into my lap. Now that the moment is over and so much else has happened between then and now, everything seems stupid. But when I think of my sister’s face, when I read the words of my brother’s text…it becomes too much again. I grit my teeth, fighting against my emotions.

“I wanted to see what it would feel like to go back,” I admit. “I told you, I hadn’t been there in years.”

“You did tell me, but you never said why you left.”

“I did.” I look into his intense eyes. “I needed to get away.”

“You said you wanted a change.”

“Yeah, and that’s, uh, that’s what I meant.” I stare intently at the chipped laminate surface of the table in front of me. I bend my toes, pushing them down into the soles of my shoes. I have to focus on things here and now, to what’s actually real. I don’t want to get sucked into a memory.

I don’t want to go back to the white walls and cold floors. To the lonely days that turned into nights. To the pain, the judgment.

To being terrified.

Helpless.

Used.

“So this movie, Mean Girls,” Lucas says, sensing my discomfort. “Is it good?”

My blood pressure levels out and I relax. “Yeah. It is. You should watch it.”

“And humans fear vampires,” Lucas says, not taking his eyes off the TV. Mean Girls is almost over, and it held his interest the whole time. “When really, teenage girls seem to be much more cruel.”

I laugh and set the almost-empty popcorn bowl onto the coffee table. We’re at my house, both sitting on the couch. Binx is next to me, and my other familiars are sitting on the arms of the couch.

“Teenage girls can be vicious.”

“Were you vicious?”

I tuck my legs up under myself, angling my body toward his. We’re close, and I know we’re walking a thin line right now. One touch, one glance that lingers a little too long…I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist.

Because I’m starting to like Lucas. I’m starting to see him as a man, not a monster.

But that’s what he is.

A vampire. A monster. A killer.

“I was, but not like that. I cared more about finding demons to vanquish than being popular.”

“Are there still schools for witches?” he asks.

“Yes. I’m surprised you don’t much about witches. I took a whole class about vampires, you know.”

“I’ve made it a point to avoid witches. Your kind always seems to have a flair for drama.”

“Flair for drama?” I raise an eyebrow. “Is that a low-key way of saying you don’t want to get your ass handed to you again?”

The humor leaves Lucas’s eyes and suddenly the room feels cold. “It means I don’t want to get caught in a witch’s affairs.”

“Right.” I bite the inside of my cheek and lean back, yawning. It’s nearing two AM and, while I’m used to staying up late every now and then I’m still tired from my late night yesterday. Shit, I must be getting old.

Almost as if he can read my mind, he looks at the clock and stands up. He stretches his long arms out in front of him and then spins around. Suddenly, he advances and knocks me down on the couch. He holds himself over me, fangs out. He brings his face down to mine, inhaling deep.

“You’re really not scared of me, are you?”

I shake my head. “Is that weird for you?”

“Yes,” he confesses. “When someone isn’t scared of me, they either have a death wish or are stupid. You’re not stupid and you certainly don’t want to die.” He brings his head in, lips going to my neck. His fangs scrape against my skin, not cutting into it, but showing me how sharp they are. How easy it would be for him to bite down and suck me dry.

I shudder, feeling an intense urge to reach up, take a tangle of his hair and push his face to me before slowly guiding him down between my legs.

“I don’t think you’ll hurt me,” I breathe, widening my legs. He welcomes himself in between. His cock is getting hard against me, and Lord have mercy, that thing is big.

“What makes you so sure?” he growls, tongue lashing out against my skin.

“If you wanted to hurt me, you would have already.”

“Maybe I have fun taking my time.” He puts his mouth to me, fangs pressing into my skin but still not popping through the surface. He was right when he said he can control himself. It’s impressive, really, and if my body weren’t so overcome with the desire to have him penetrate me in other ways, I’d acknowledge it. r />

“Maybe I do too,” I whisper, unable to help myself. I bring my hand up, lightly tracing my finger along his spine. “Because even if you bite me, I’ll bite back. You’re stronger than me, but you’re outnumbered.”

He looks me dead in the eye and my pulse bounds. He’s going to kiss me, and fuck, I want him to. I inhale deeply, causing my breasts to rise and press against his firm chest. I bend my knees up and widen my legs. My dress is bunching up around my waist, and I know he can feel the heat of my core through his pants. Vampires are sensitive like that, and one as old as Lucas is no exception.

He can sense and feel things others can’t. He’s had years of practice. Years of perfecting his every move. I grab the hem of his black t-shirt and start pulling it up. His eyes flutter shut when I run my palm over his cool skin. Letting out a soft groan, I buck my hips, feeling his cock against me again.

I want this.

I need this.

He needs it too. There’s hunger in his eyes and I know this time it’s not for my blood but for my body. But it’s more than physical. I don’t know how I know it, but I do. And I know he’s hurting inside just like I am, one step away from being pulled back and swallowed into a big, black void.

Then, without warning, he kisses me. His lips, soft, yet cool, crash against mine. His tongue darts into my mouth and his hands explore my body. I can’t get enough of him. Everything inside me burns red hot, and if I don’t strip my clothes off and feel his cold skin against me, I’m going to burn up.

His fangs retract and he deepens the kiss, moving one hand up to caress my face. I reach down, fumbling with the zipper on his jeans. Magic sizzles at my fingertips, and I bring my hand up, accidentally zapping him in the chest.

“Getting excited?” he croons, glancing down at the smoldering section of flesh on his chest. It begins to heal almost instantly.

“I’m sorry.”

He moves back, scooping me up with him. “Don’t be. Don’t hold back, Callie.”

I move out of his arms and push onto my knees. I put both hands on his chest and shove him onto the couch. “I won’t.” Climbing on top, I straddle his lap, rolling my hips and feeling that big dick rub against me. It’s going to hurt so good when he pushes it inside of me…which is going to happen soon.


Tags: Emily Goodwin Thorne Hill Fantasy