Harlequin Nocturne September 2014 Bundle: Beyond the Moon\Immortal Obsession (23 page)

Rook fell to his knees. King backed up to sit on the bottom
step of the spiraling staircase.

Thomas wandered across the black-and-white foyer floor, sniffed
at the ash pile, then scampered up the stairs toward the smoking room as he
meowed wildly.

Verity was up there. Alone. Among flames.

Chapter 22

R
ook stepped back from the wall of heat that whipped before him. All the lines of gasoline had ignited. It was a virtual chessboard of flame, and the spaces of floor were spare. A wind of blaze flashed toward him. He dodged to avoid the orange death.

He shouted for Verity but couldn't hear anything over the crackle of fire. Floorboards creaked. The room would collapse soon.

Leaping over the line of flame, he dodged to the left and leaped over two more lines. The flames farthest from the center of the room were as high as his knees.

Verity's voice called out. He found her sitting beside a blazing circle of flames, sorting through Slater's ashes. To have witnessed the vampires go up in flames had lifted his spirits. Vampires had burned Marianne. And they had almost burned Verity.

Never again.

“We have to get out of here before the flames take over and burn this place down.” He knelt beside her and took her hand. Ashes coated her fingers in a greasy mix. “King is calling the fire brigade. Verity, come on! It isn't safe.”

“Not until I find the heart!”

“The—” Hell, he'd forgotten. He'd last seen the vampire tucking the wooden heart into his coat pocket. It had to have burned to cinders when he'd staked Slater. “It's a loss, Verity. We have to get out of here.”

“Don't say that!” She coughed. “Oz needs you.”

Yes, do not give up on me now!

Rook shucked off his vest and peeled his T-shirt off. He tore it down the front and then wrapped it around Verity's head and adjusted it to cover her nose and mouth. “Let's make this quick!”

He peeled away a burned portion of fabric and sorted through the ash alongside Verity. The heat of the flame was more apparent now that he'd removed his clothing. Verity was seemingly unaware of the danger. He pulled her closer, tugging her foot away from veering toward a line of flame.

“What the hell?” King called from the doorway.

“We'll be right there! Just have to find—”

A means to dismiss a friend he'd lived with for more than four centuries. And a final blow to his immortality.

So be it. He didn't need to live forever. Not if it meant Oz would not be there for his family. And not if it meant he might have a few decades to enjoy a family of his own.

A groaning creak preceded the splitting of wood. The floorboards were giving way not far from where they knelt.

Rook grabbed Verity's hand. “I'm getting you out of here.”

“Got it!” She triumphantly displayed a piece of wood. She tugged away the shirt from her nose and mouth. “Oh, no. It's been broken in two.”

His finger played across the other piece of the heart. It was scorched, but the fire hadn't eaten into the wood. “What does that mean? Do you think the soul is gone?”

She pressed her piece next to his and clasped his fingers over the piece. “What do you think? Can you feel it?”

He nodded. Oz stirred within him.

I feel it!

“Oz feels it.”

“How do we put it back?” she wondered. “How was it removed?”

“Himself took it out.”

“Right. Demonic magic. There has to be a way. A spell.”

“We'll worry about that later. Come on!”

He grabbed Verity's hand and stopped abruptly as the flames flared wildly in front of them in a wall that stretched in an arch toward the collapsing floorboards and opposite toward the wall that would block their exit. They had to move forward.

He felt Verity crush up against his side, fearful.

“Can you control the flames?” he shouted.

She shook her head against his chest. Her body trembled.

He pulled her around in front of him and held her by the hips. Ashes in her hair dusted his face and melted from the heat that surrounded them.

“You can do this,” he said. “You have to, lover. You are powerful.”

“But I didn't create these flames!”

That was what he was afraid of. He could risk tossing her over his shoulder and rushing through the flames, but he didn't want her to burn. He was helpless. A man on his knees before the pyre—no.

“Concentrate,” he said firmly over her shoulder. “Spread the flames, Verity. Make a path for us to get out of here. Will you try?”

She nodded. Flame licked at his ankles. He adjusted their stance to the left as Verity held up her arms and closed her eyes. Bowing her head, she thrust up her hands. She spoke no magic, but Rook sensed she was delving inward, mining whatever it was within that allowed her to control fire.

He bowed his head to the back of hers, closing his eyes and focusing prayer toward her. Oz joined in.
I honor the place in you that is the same in me. I honor the place in you of love, of light, of peace and truth. We are one…

Together, they held the witch in front of the flames, not as a sacrifice but as an offering for the wrongs in their pasts. Neither were worthy of forgiveness.

With a bold cry, Verity swept her hands apart, and a force that billowed through the flames as if clear smoke roiled forward, pushing aside the roaring blaze and forming an aisle.

“Good girl!” Rook pushed her forward.

They ran toward the doorway where King waited. Rook gave her a good shove, and his partner caught her and whisked her out into the balcony hallway. Turning, Rook dodged the flames as the aisle closed. He stumbled against the door frame and out into the darkness.

Verity embraced him, and he crushed her against his heaving body. “You did it,” he said on gasps. “I love you, witch.”

“Come on, let's move outside,” King directed.

Rook hastened behind his friend, Verity in arm. He lifted her and carried her down the spiraling staircase. Behind them the ballroom floor collapsed in a tremendous crash, and as they exited the front door and entered the fresh night air, the shrapnel of wood and marble and flame scattered out through the threshold.

Landing on the front yard, Rook pulled Verity to him and kissed her soundly, then stroked the ash-flaked hair from her face. “How do you feel?”

“Stupid for allowing this to happen and for having to depend on you to rescue me.”

“You don't like being rescued?”

“Oh, I appreciate it.” She kissed him quickly. “But if I hadn't gone out on my own, you might not have had to do it.”

“I am always here for you.”

“Beyond the moon?” And then she dropped the brave façade, and tears spilled down her ash-smeared cheeks.

“Verity? What is it?” He hugged her to him, and her sobs grew stronger. “Sweetie? It's over. I love you.”

She shook her head, and when she pulled back, she tapped her mouth, which was smeared with ash and blood. “You tried to wipe it all off, but when you kissed me…I tasted blood, Rook. I'm going to transform.”

He pressed another kiss to her mouth to silence her silly worry. “I staked Clas.”

“You—you did?” She clasped her stomach. Checking for the raging hunger? Then with a nod, she said, “Goddess, I think it's gone. I don't feel the craving. You saved me again.”

She plunged into his arms. The witch wrapped her legs about him, and he carried her toward the gate where King waited.

“You find it?” he asked as Rook passed through, Verity clinging to him.

“It's broken.”

Outside the mansion, the trio made their way toward Rook's waiting car, followed by a curious cat.

* * *

They dropped King off at Order headquarters. Rook drove Verity to her home because that's where she kept all the items necessary for spellcraft. Much as he'd like to go home and shower off the ash, he wasn't about to get too far from the witch, who would now never become vampire.

Kaz, nursing some strange scratches on his face and hands, waited on the front stoop.

Rook put up a palm to dismiss any excuse he might try. “I know that cat.”

“Yeah? But I was defeated by a cat.”

“We'll talk in the morning. She's safe. That's all I care about.”

Kaz offered another apology and then took off, promising he'd make it up to Rook somehow.

Verity sent him upstairs to shower while she rang Vika St. Charles. Vika was a witch who had a particular habit of attracting lost souls, so Verity thought she might have a clue how they could put Rook's soul back inside his body.

The tub had an ash ring around it when he was finished so he wiped it off with a towel, then realized he'd made a huge mess in her bathroom but didn't have the energy to try to fix it.

Towel wrapped around his hips, Rook wandered into the bedroom. Verity stood over her spell table. Barefoot, her skirt torn and blackened with ash, she looked like a bedraggled forest child with the moonlight dancing in her violet hair. Beautiful.

Sneaking up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist. Although she smelled like ash and smoke, he buried his face in her hair. He didn't ever want to let her go. She was that which he had been without for centuries.

And she was that witch.

“What did the St. Charles witch say?” he asked.

“Vika wasn't sure how, exactly, to put a soul back in a body. She's more about catching the ones wandering the atmosphere. The ones the soul bringer misses. But she's searching her grimoires.”

Rook nodded and thumbed his chin. He'd had the opportunity and the displeasure to meet all kinds through the ages. Witches, vampires, soul bringers, werewolves. He knew things that even some breeds did not know. But he couldn't utilize magic. Only Oz gave him superior strength. And a determination.

“What about Ian Grim?” he suggested.

Verity turned a bright gaze on him. “The warlock? How do you know him?”

“Uh, he owes me one.”

Recently Rook had been able to help the warlock come into a large number of vampires that he had needed for a spell. Grim had contacted him and given him weeks to consider the proposal. He'd discussed it with King. They'd decided having a warlock in their debt was not to be overlooked. And when was exterminating vampires ever a bad thing?

“Warlocks aren't tops on my list, though, that's for sure.”

“Grim is kind.”

“If you say so. I just don't like witches who take it into their hearts to practice malefic magic. He serves no good.”

“But he owes you one? What have you done for him?”

“Can't tell you.”

“Or you'd have to kill me?”

“Something like that.” He brushed a ribbon of her ashy hair behind her ear. “Do you want me to give him a call?”

“He's our only option. And we don't have much time. What does Oz say?” Verity asked, turning around to study his petulant pose.

“I'm sure you can guess.”

“He's in a hurry too. Tomorrow night is the full moon,” Verity said. “Oz's day. Wouldn't it be great if you could release him for good? What if his wife is in labor as we speak? We can't waste any more time.”

Call the warlock
.

Never had Oz asked a thing of him. Four centuries he had existed within him, both of them accepting their fates as punishment for the cruel bargains made against the ones they had loved.

If you set me free, then you must also set her free, Giles. Give Marianne peace
.

But he wasn't the one who harbored Marianne's soul.

You hold her memory captive.

Verity hugged him and said, “I can't wait to make love to you.”

“We can make time right now.”

“Nope. Later. Next time we have sex, I want it to be with only you. No offense, Oz.”

None taken.

“He said—”

“I can guess.” She winked. “I'm going to shower. You give Grim a call and then continue to page through the grimoire.”

Rook shook his head. “Uh, sorry.”

Verity paused by the bathroom door. “For what?”

“You'll see.”

* * *

How one man could make such a mess was beyond her. But even as Verity picked up the dirty towels and wiped away the ash smudges from the tiled walls and sink, she had to smile. Rook was her messy man.

He'd rescued her. Saved her from becoming a vampire.

And he loved her.

And she loved him. But more so, she had gotten beyond the ingrained need to follow her mother's tainted wisdom and now trusted him.

She lingered under the steaming hot shower stream, washing her hair of the ash and making sure there wasn't a spot of blood on her skin. She didn't feel the craving for blood, but she was still freaked about getting near it.

What if she could still transform? Was the hunger merely lying dormant, waiting to strike full force tomorrow night?

No, she had to believe she was safe. It would be maddening to think otherwise.

When she shut off the water and reached out, her lover handed her a towel and she stepped out into his embrace. He rubbed the terry cloth gently over her hair and her shoulders. He still wore only a towel, and she pressed her slick breasts against his chest and leaned into his coolness.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too. I'm sorry for going out on my own. If I hadn't…”

“We might never have gotten Slater and Clas and the rest of that damned tribe all together in one room.”

“Bait?”

“Accidental bait. Thank you.”

“You find anything in the grimoire?”

“Maybe. There's something about restoring souls. You'll have to take a look because most of it is in Latin, and I'm a bit rusty with that language. But first I need to hold you.”

He tugged the towel across her hips and lured her closer, holding her there against his body and nuzzling his face into her wet hair. His cock hardened against her stomach, and she needed him inside her that instant.

And yet.

“I meant it when I said next time we made love it would be just the two of us.”