Embrace the Night (17 page)

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Authors: Crystal Jordan

BOOK: Embrace the Night
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“I know something bad happened, sweetheart.”
Of course. Why else would a grown woman be scared enough of the dark, she still needed a night-light? Hot tears of shame pricked her eyes, and she blinked them back. She'd come to terms with her fears and what she could and couldn't deal with years ago. This trip stomped on all her shiny red buttons, but that didn't change anything.
A sigh eased passed her lips. “I was seven years old.... No, wait. You're going to need some family history. You know I'm half-Normal, and that my grandfather disowned my dad for marrying my mom, but you don't know that they had to run away to escape from Grandfather Standish's vengeance. He tried to ruin Dad's career so he'd come begging for family handouts. Dad was a doctor, you know.”
“Like you.” His voice was low; obviously he wasn't intending to rush her. She had a feeling he'd sit there and listen for as long as she wanted to talk. It was as sweet as it was scary.
She shook her head. “No, he was a practicing physician. A country doctor. He and Mom escaped to Montana, out in the middle of nowhere, like fifteen miles from the nearest town.” Magickals either lost themselves in the anonymity of a sprawling metropolis, where anything odd a stranger did would be written off and dismissed, or they lived in the boonies, where they didn't interact with people often enough for them to notice anything odd. “The people in town thought he was just into homeopathic medicine with his herbal remedies, but he could make them better, and they didn't ask questions besides that.” A faint smile curved her lips. “He used to let me help grind the herbs and mix them.”
“Potions.”
“Yeah, I inherited the knack from him.” Her smile widened, then faded just as quickly. “He passed away when I was five. He got hit by a drunk driver going around a blind curve at over a hundred miles an hour. Magic can't always save you, you know?”
“Yeah. My parents died in a car crash, too. They were gone before anything could save them.”
She nodded. “They said Dad died instantly. I hope so.”
He swore softly, leaning toward her, but not leaving his seat, as though he understood she'd never get through this story without breaking down if he held her in his arms and comforted her. “I'm sorry, Chloe.”
“I . . .
felt
it when he passed away. That was the first time my precognition presented itself.” Her voice went almost clinical, a doctor diagnosing. She swallowed, feeling like anything but a level-headed scientist. “My little voices warning of bad things coming.”
“Sweetheart . . .”
She shook her head, staring into the fire as she started the worst of it. Her hands balled into knots to hide the way they started to tremble. “They didn't warn me the day my mom died. Or, if they did, I don't remember it. Maybe I didn't pay attention. I didn't know anything about magic, then. Not really. By the time I was seven, my dad was already sort of . . . fuzzy . . . in my head. The stories Mom told about him sounded like fairy tales from the books she read to me at night.” She held her hands out toward the flames, wishing the warmth could seep inside her, but she felt the ice freezing her very soul. “I think maybe Mom thought I was Normal like her because I hadn't done anything like my dad could do.”
“You didn't tell her about the voices when your dad died?”
“No. I didn't know what they were, what they meant. Not until years later.” Not until Millie had told her. By then it was too late. Far too late for any of them.
“How did she die?”
Such a simple question, and such a complicated answer. “There was a storm. A massive storm. It knocked out our electricity and phone lines, washed out the roads, made mud slide down the mountains, and left us totally stranded.” She pulled in a slow, deep breath. “So, when Mom slipped and cut herself while she was chopping some kindling, there was no way to get help.” Her laugh was dry, painful. “If I'd known then what I know now, if
Dad
had still been alive, my mom wouldn't be dead. But there was just so much blood, and it happened so fast, she was gone before I really understood what was going on.”
And she'd been alone with a dead body that used to belong to her mother. She didn't tell Merek how she'd huddled in the corner of their living room, too scared of the blank, staring eyes of that corpse to move. How she'd vomited at the smell. How she'd sobbed until there were no more tears left, but she was trapped for two more days until the storm passed.
Even when it was over, no one came for them. No one knew they needed help. No one cared.
“I went for help, but the storm had washed away trees and rocks, so the landmarks were all wrong. I got lost. When night came, it was pitch black because there were still too many clouds to see the stars. It was so dark, and I was so alone.” Over and over again, she'd gotten lost in the gloom of that alien landscape. For as long as she lived, she'd never forget the utter sense of aloneness, of isolation. Her stomach turned, but she forced back the nausea. “Ophelia found me there.”
“Ophelia was in the woods?” The question, quiet as it was, startled her back into reality. For a few moments she'd been so lost in the telling, she'd forgotten he was there.
She cleared her throat. “Yeah. She doesn't like the wilderness any more than I do. I don't know how or why a Siamese purebred familiar got all the way out there. All I know is there was a bear, and I got between it and its cub by accident. It was going to tear me apart.” She snorted, shook her head, and smiled. “Then there was this mangy, half-starved cat attacking the hell out of that bear's face while I ran.”
“Suicidal cat.” But his tone was almost admiring.
“Yeah, well. I named her that for a reason. She caught up with me after she was done with the bear, and she's been with me ever since.” Chloe rubbed her nose, remembering the freezing cold at night, the meager warmth of Ophelia's skinny body as they curled together in the blackness. The hunger and terror.
Those details she kept to herself. There was only so much she could strip bare for anyone. No one really wanted everything. She picked up a twig and spun it between her fingers. “It took me another two days to make it to town and another week for them to track down my next of kin.”
Both she and her familiar had been malnourished and dehydrated when they'd staggered into the sheriff's department. Chloe had almost thought it was a delusion, finally reaching light and warmth and
people.
People with food and water.
“Millie came and claimed you.”
“She did.”
“And you've been in Seattle ever since.”
“No, I went away to college and med school. I didn't come back until I did my residency.” She'd had to get away or she'd known she'd never be able to. For years, she'd had nightmares, terrified of being alone in the darkness. She'd clung to Millie like the lifeline to sanity she'd been for a broken young girl. It would have been too easy to let her aunt shelter her, coddle her, protect her from life, but she'd never have been a whole person. The thought of
needing
anyone as much as she'd needed Millie then still had the power to terrify her.
She'd had to prove to herself she could be alone, that she could cope with the night, even if it meant sleeping with a lamp turned on or getting up to stare at the millions of twinkling lights of the city around her to remind herself she was
not
lost in the woods anymore.
She'd made her own way, such as it was.
Merek stood up and walked around to her side of the dwindling campfire. “You've always been in big cities since then though? Until now?”
A smile twisted her lips. “Yeah, I'm a wimp like that. City girl all the way with my cute clothes and nightclubs, like you said. Los Angeles and New York for school. I did a year of foreign exchange in London.” She shrugged, looked away. “Lots of people and lots of light, even at night.”
His hand appeared in her line of vision, his fingers offered in invitation. “Come on.”
“I think I just want to sit here for a while.” She felt... drained. Emptied out after telling him all that she had. As if she had nothing left.
He just reached down and scooped her up to carry her to bed. She stiffened for a moment, wrapped her arms around his neck for balance, but then went limp against him. He felt so good, so warm when she was frozen inside. She wanted to tell herself it was the dip in the icy lake, but she hadn't the energy left to lie to herself. For once, she didn't want to be brave. She wanted to let him hold her and make her feel safe in this nightmare she was reliving, but she couldn't.
With Alex sharing their “room” tonight, she was sleeping alone. Best get back to sucking it up like a big girl and dealing with the darkness. She'd done it for years, and the last thing a man like Merek needed was a clingy woman. The last thing she wanted was to
be
that kind of woman.
She'd stand on her own two feet, no matter how much it scared her.
Gods, seven years old. Merek shook his head. She'd been just a baby. Emotion he didn't want to feel, let alone put a name to, banded so tight around his chest he couldn't breathe. He swallowed hard; he didn't ever want to put her down, wanted to make sure she never went through anything like that again.
And yet she was already going through it again. Voluntarily. For Alex. So he could be safe for his full moon Change.
Merek closed his eyes for a moment, feeling that band tighten. He'd seen a lot of shit in his life, had been through more than his fair share, but it made his hands shake to think of anything else happening to her, even with his intimate knowledge of just how many things could go wrong for people.
All he could do tonight was make damn sure that she didn't have to be alone in the dark. Hell, if that was the worst of the fears she'd come out of all of that with—he shook his head again. He'd thought it was the worry and maybe nightmares from being tortured that kept her awake at night, but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe it was all of those things, but he'd never met a stronger person in his life. She humbled him.
“I don't need to be carried, Merek. I can stand.” She wriggled to try to get down when they got inside the tepee.
He tightened his arms and kissed her forehead, savoring the feel of her against him, vital and alive. It so easily could have been different. He could so easily have missed out on the chance of ever knowing her. The thought hit him like a blow. “I can't stay with you tonight, but you don't have to go to sleep alone. We have some time before Alex gets back from his nocturnal activities.”
A breathy laugh escaped her. “Nocturnal activities, huh? Is that what they call it these days?”
“That's right.” He let her feet slide to the floor, but kept her snug against him, so she was still on her tiptoes with her fingers linked behind his neck.
She glanced at her sleeping bag and then back up at him. “So you're just planning to lie there and hold me until I fall asleep?”
“Yep.” He dropped his forehead to hers and dragged in her feminine scent, grateful beyond words that she was here with him, that she was the person she was. Unstoppable force of nature, and he wouldn't have it any other way, even when she made him crazy.
“I won't want you just to hold me if we're that close and in a horizontal position.”
He closed his eyes and ran his hands up and down her back, a laugh straggling out of him as his body had a predictable reaction to her words. “Whatever you need, sweetheart.”
“Nocturnal activities, I think.” And then she pulled him down for a kiss.
It was like setting a match to a powder keg. All the emotions roiling around inside him suddenly had a focus, somewhere to go. The relief was so sharp it almost drove him to his knees.
He wanted to go slow, wanted to be gentle, to show her how he'd come to cherish her. Hell, he wanted to be in control enough to do any of those things. Instead, he jerked at her shirt, wrenching it over her head. He didn't even bother to remove her bra before he latched onto her nipple. He sucked her through the lace, used the fabric to stimulate her to a thrusting little nub. His fingers offered the same rough treatment to her other nipple, and she squealed when he bit her lightly.
“Merek!” Her fingers splayed over his chest, moved down his T-shirt to his pants, and she fumbled with his fly. Her hand on his cock was enough to make him wild, lust eating away at his restraint. He divested them both of their clothing in short order and dragged her down to her sleeping bag.
He jerked her thighs wide, and thrust himself deep inside her. She hissed between her teeth, not quite wet enough for his entry to be easy. He shuddered and buried his face in the crook of her neck, a low groan ripping from his throat. “I'm sorry. I couldn't wait.”
She stroked her hands down his back, turning her head to kiss his ear. “Then you'd better make it up to me.”

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