A Wicked Night (Creatures of Darkness 2): A Coraline Conwell Novel (26 page)

“I’m sorry, angel,” he muttered again. Then, as though his muscles just gave out, his body crumbled in a heap.

Her lip quivered. “No, Bray. Please.” She went to her knees next to him. He gazed up at her with, of all things, affection.

“Fate is a funny thing,” he said.

“What?” she wiped a tear from her cheek.

“I finally find you…” he gave a bitter laugh, and paused for a moment to stare at her. As if he was trying to take the memory of her with him to his grave. “I’m glad to have had my last moments with you…Makes it better.”

She shook her head, tears now in freefall.
It can’t end like this
.

Something inside her said it didn’t have to, something that had lain dormant for so long it didn’t even feel like a part of her. A foreign object taking up residence within her body—in her soul—and in the light of desperation, it convulsed to life.

She stood and dried her eyes with the back of her hand. “Bray, get up.” Her voice took with a deep resonating vibration. “Get. Up.”

He glanced at her with vacant confusion.

She sensed a power in her rooting. Growing. Taking form. A heavy gust of wind danced in her hair, blowing it wildly around her face. It was strangely warm and smelled of spring. She breathed of it deeply, inviting in.

An unfamiliar, yet oddly natural, current sparked through her. She instinctively understood that this was but a small taste of her magic. That there was a well within her and somehow she was cranking up a bucket.

“Get. Up,” she repeated to Bray, allowing the current to seep into her words.

Taking in a large gulp of air, he propped himself up on one unsteady forearm, halting for another breath. Then with his opposite hand planted flat on the ground, he leveraged his torso higher off the ground. He groaned with the effort, shimmying his elbow along the ground for added height till his upper half made it to a forty five degree angle. His arms shook as though they were holding up a steel beam and would fail any second.

“Cora?” His pain was evident.

“Get! Up!” The entire forest seemed to quiver. A flock of birds evacuated a nearby tree.

Determination replaced the agony on his face.

His left leg came around for support and stability while he battled gravity. Strenuously, he pulled his right leg up so that one boot was firmly on the ground, while his opposite knee took all his weight.

Cora repeated her demand once last time.

His lungs worked overtime. His neck strained.

Finally, with his jaw set and a burst of power, he shoved off the ground and rose to his full height.

“Now,” she commanded. “Let’s go.”

Bray slumped on the floor against the wall of the one room shack, feeling like death warmed over.

As he gathered his strength, Cora busied herself by plugging wood-rotted holes that allowed in shafts of light with strips of fabric she’d ripped from an old pillowcase that had been tucked under the fetid covers of a small bed in the corner. Before that, she’d taken one of the least tattered blankets she could find and arranged it around the room’s only window as a makeshift curtain.

The little shack appeared to be long abandoned. Aside from their foisted disturbance that set free particles into the air, there was a thin layer of dust varnishing every surface. An ancient-looking wood stove sat against one wall with dried wood shavings scattered underneath. It had been used at one point, that was clear, but it too held the air of neglect.

Against his worried objections, Cora balanced on a spindly chair as she shoved a piece of material into a particularly large gape in the ceiling. If she slipped and broke her neck, he was too damn weak to catch her. He mentally cursed, abhorring his inability to complete these tasks himself.

But she was doing a fine job.

Without her, he would have perished. She was quite a woman. Strong. Determined. Too fucking beautiful for her own good.

God strike him dead if he wasn’t falling for her.

He tried to remind himself she wasn’t interested in a relationship. Still he was in awe of her. She’d stayed with him, pushed him, gave him something to fight for, and was more powerful than she gave herself credit.

How ever was he going to keep his distance when all he wanted was to hold her close?

“I think that’s the last one,” she announced, brushing her hands off and glancing around. “Let’s get you on the bed.”

He waved her away. “I’m fine where I am. Check if that stove works. You must be freezing.”

As if reminded, she wrapped her arms around her torso and rubbed her arms, glancing at the stove. “I’ve never used a cast iron stove before. I suppose I’ll need to gather some wood from outside.”

He would almost rather gouge his own eyes out than watch her step outside their shelter without him. He didn’t want to lose track of her, even for a moment. But he was in no condition to complete the chore himself.

Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to travel far. They’d spotted a store of precut wood outside against the southern wall of the shack, which, by the windblown debris and broken cobwebs, looked to have been there through a couple winters at least. Luckily, the logs had not appeared sodden, which meant they should be quick to catch fire. They just needed a flame.

Solemnly, he said, “Be careful.”

At the door, she gave him an impish smile. Then, in a faux-serious tone, said, “It’ll be hairy, what with the long three-foot trek, potential splitters, and razor-sharp snowflakes”—she placed the back of her hand on her forehead and sighed—“but somehow I’ll manage.”

He couldn’t keep his frown. He liked that her mood was improving with hints of playfulness in her personality. “Just stay aware of your surroundings. And be quick about it.”

She gave him a two fingered salute and disappeared.

Moments later, she had several small logs stuffed into the firebox. But then, with a halting look, she began a thorough examination of the stove’s exterior.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I don’t suppose you know how to start a flame on one of these things?”

Ah. She was searching for an ignition spark. “It doesn’t have one.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Guess we’re going caveman style. Any idea how to make fire?”

He hated sending her back outside, but he didn’t see another way. “We’ll need some tinder and kindling. Is there a flint anywhere by you?”

She glanced around and plucked up bent steel object from next to the stove.

“Good. We’ll also need a sharp-edged rock, specifically white or marbled in color. A darker, almost black stone might work as well. Grab several and I’ll look them over.”

When she dashed back outside, he swallowed an anxious lump that did not vanish until she pushed through the door with the requested items. She dumped them at the base of the stove before, in turn, holding up the rocks for his inspection. He nodded toward one that looked promising. “Smash it with one of the bigger rocks to break it apart. That will give you a sharp edge.”

After that, he instructed her how to place the kindling and tinder, then how to strike the flint against the rock to generate a spark.

It took several attempts, but eventually the scent of burning wood filled the room. Cora leaned back and swiped her hand along her forehead, smiling at him triumphantly.

She had a gorgeous smile, and for a moment he was completely arrested. Her grin turned to a curious glance before a bit of pink colored her cheeks, making him wonder if she sensed the way of his thoughts, how badly he wanted to kiss her again.

She shifted to arrange the remaining firewood into a neat little stack by the stove, avoiding eye contact with him.

Soon enough there was an orchestral of snapping and popping from the fire, and the temperature in the small space rose by degrees.

When he could finally stand, after having refused Cora’s help several more times, he shucked off his shirt and moved himself to the rutty mattress.

As he went, he felt Cora’s eyes on him. Intensely so. No more humor. No more smiles. Something else entirely had fallen over her.

——

Cora stood ramrod stiff.

In a matter of seconds, carnal desire roused within her.

She clasped her hands in a tight ball, mentally shaking away the images that invaded her mind. Oh, why had he gone and displayed all that rippling muscle? All that taut, smooth skin, not quite pale, but not fully tanned either. She shivered at the thought of running her fingers over every thick cord, every chiseled valley.

She never used to be so easily enticed, but it seemed a show of skin and a simple smile from him was doing the trick.

On the mattress, he settled on his side, facing her. Something in his expression said he’d swiftly deciphered the battle raging inside her.

Since they’d escaped, her emotions had been all over the place, from her mind being pinpoint focused on survival to reckless need. She wasn’t used to the sharp turnaround in her desires. Was all this blood and magic changing her? Making her into some sort of wanton creature. Or was the doctor’s vile elixir still screwing with her system?

“Cora?” Bray’s raspy plea skittered over her like a physical touch, invoking another delicious shiver. Heat poured down to the tips of her toes. She grasped for the control she’d had just moments ago. Where had it fled?

During the clambering night in Bray’s arms, Cora remembered being on the verge of a breakdown. Her emotions mayhem. All that they’d been through billowing like a foul cesspool that threatened to engulf her. Thanks to his calmness, his confident and reassuring words, she’d managed to suppress the rage, the sorrow, the tears, the urge to scream, the desire to lose herself in the very man before her. Managed to keep it together…

Until now.

It seemed with no more tasks to complete, nothing for her mind to focus on, those very same emotions threatened to redouble, the horror of her ordeal rearing up like a punch to the base of her skull.

Her mind was offering two options. Sink into a heap of puffy-eyed, floor-rocking, tears, or sink into Bray.

Just as before, and throughout these last few weeks, he was her only mark of stability. Her rock. It was as if the world around her was a blur, and Bray was the only thing in focus.

A fact that frightened the shit out of her.

Her mind grappled for purchase.

When she took a step back, rather than forward, Bray’s expression turned pained.

“I’m not thinking clearly,” she rushed out, swiping a trembling finger over her temple. Her heart shimmied in her chest. He had to sense how out of whack she was.

Together, they had gone through something intense, ghastly, and horrific. Something that had forced them into a quick friendship and shaky alliance—perhaps not all that shaky.

In such a short time, and mostly out of necessity, they had grown dearly close. She cared for him now almost as much as she cared for Mace.

That didn’t mean they could behave like animals.

By degrees, he nodded. “I don’t want you to feel pressure to do anything you don’t want to. Would you prefer I take the floor? Be assured, at this point, sleep in any horizontal position will do me well, and I’m not picky.”

Appalled, she said, “Like I would make you sleep on the floor after everything you’ve gone through.”

“Well, I’ll not allow you to take the floor,” he added. “Not when there’s plenty of room for the both of us here. We can just rest till it’s time to leave.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “But Cora, when your decision is made,
either
way, I implore you to stick with it.”

He wasn’t talking about their sleeping arrangements. The muscles in his throat worked hard. A wave of fierce longing forced Cora back another step. Her subconscious tight walked the chasm of loneliness that, in a way, still bound Bray to that dark, cruddy cell where part of his soul was still trapped and tormented.

In an anguished tone, he added, “Do not show me heaven, just to turn me away at the gate.”

Reason scrambled from her and all she wanted to do—needed to do—was melt into this man’s arms, into his lonely messed up heart which mirrored her own.

The urge to ease him, to ease them both, was undeniable. And in the darkness of her soupy mind, she knew the choice she was about to make—had already made—would change everything.