Hexed (The Gwen Sparks Series Book 4) (3 page)

I threw my hands out in a ‘what the hell’ gesture. “You couldn’t choose another memory in the hopes of reviving my brain?”

“I could have…”

I shook my head, annoyed. “So…it looks like I don’t have the best judgment when it comes to men.”

Instead of getting offended, Dorian smiled. “You wound me, cupcake.”

“Your smirk suggests otherwise.”

“Get your ass on the bike so I can take you home.” When I arched an eyebrow at him, he continued. “whose mind is in the gutter now?”

“It didn’t find its way there on its own,” I told him, walking closer.
Why was I walking closer?
“That was the logical assumption after hearing the things you said.” I eyed the motorcycle, realizing that I would have to wrap my arms around Dorian’s waist so I didn’t fall off. My only other option was wandering around town in the hopes of remembering where I lived. I knew Dorian wasn’t going to tell me. Grudgingly, I stepped toward the bike and swung one of my legs over, steadying myself on Dorian’s shoulder when I teeter-tottered. Lowering myself on the seat, I positioned my legs up and settled my hands on my legs. If Dorian drove crazy, I could always grab onto him. That was my thought, but Dorian had one of his own. Reaching back, he grabbed my arm and brought it around his waist.

“I’d hate for you to take a tumble.” I could see his profile and the hint of a smile ghosting across his mouth. I doubted very much that he was concerned about me falling off the bike. When I didn’t remove my arm from around his waist, Dorian grabbed my other arm and brought it around his body. I interlocked my fingers. The position caused my front to press against his back. The scent of leather invaded my senses, and I found myself annoyed that I didn’t find it unpleasant.

“How far away do I live?”

“About a mile,” Dorian said right before he revved up his bike and pulled away from the curb. The chilly night hair whipped my hair around my face. Just as I was about to remove one of my hands to brush my hair away, his hand landed on mine to stop me. Face full of hair forgotten, I focused on the feel of his skin against mine. I wasn’t going to analyze the emotions taking up space inside my head. Obviously, I wasn’t in my right mind. Having one’s memories zapped could cause a girl to think unclearly. Dorian was annoying and rude—among other things—which should have deterred me from the thoughts racing through my brain. If what Dorian said was true, then just a few short hours ago we had been having sex. Talk about awkward.

Dorian rubbed his thumb against my hand, so slowly that at first I thought I had imagined it. What in the world did he think he was doing? I mean, sure we had an intimate relationship, but since I couldn’t remember it, he shouldn’t have been touching me like that. I needed more information on our history before I allowed that damned tightening in my stomach fool me into believing I was attracted to him. The problem was, I had no clue how to find out about us without asking the man himself. After the snippets I’d heard earlier, I wasn’t sure I wanted a report of our time together from him.

I needed to get my mind off Dorian. Tilting my head up, I stared up at the twinkling stars above us. I closed my eyes and focused on the breeze against my face and the whipping of my hair behind me. I would not think about the way Dorian’s hard stomach felt against the palm of my hands or how he had placed his full hand over mine so that the creases of our fingers overlapped.
The breeze. Focus on the damn breeze.
He was purposefully trying to rattle me, as though hearing he did something with his mouth that caused me to beg hadn’t.
Don’t think about his mouth.
The sucky thing was that since I couldn’t remember anything, there wasn’t a lot to think about other than what was happening right now. All of my current memories involved Dorian. Gritting my teeth, I recited the alphabet. I had just made it to the letter M when Dorian braked, and my body jolted into his. My eyes snapped open to see we had stopped outside of a building with white siding.

Once Dorian shut the motorcycle off, I scrambled off and looked up at the building to keep from having to look at him. Two rows of windows formed a double line across the front of the complex.

“So this is home, huh?” It wasn’t much to look at, a generic apartment building with a metal staircase leading to the second floor. I wasn’t sure how old I was, but I had hoped I was doing better for myself. When I pictured home, it was a comfy house with a manicured lawn and a cobblestone walkway. My reality was a bummer.

“You’re up there,” Dorian said, pointing to the second floor. That was a bonus, I supposed. At least I didn’t have to listen to anyone stomping around above me.

I started toward the staircase but stopped when I noticed my stalker was following me. Spinning around, I said, “Thanks for getting me home, but I can take it from here.” Did he really expect me to invite him up?

“Did I forget to mention that I’m staying with you?”

“You live with me?” I didn’t bother hiding the skepticism in my voice. “Are we dating or are we roommates that happen to get drunk sometimes and sleep together?”

“Would it matter?” Dorian moved past me and headed toward the stairs.

“Yes,” I said, following him. “While both call my judgment into question, at least one could be excused by alcohol.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but alcohol wasn’t involved. Moreover, stop acting like you’re not attracted to me. You and I both know you are. Pretending I’m a bad choice you made isn’t fooling anyone.” Without another word, Dorian headed up the stairs while I scowled at his back.

THE HOUSE WAS empty when Gwen and I got back. Before all the chaos started, we’d been out to dinner with Gwen’s best friend, Fiona, and her boyfriend, Ethan. It was just after midnight and they still weren’t home. Shrugging out of my leather coat, I hung it on the rack beside the door and watched Gwen inspect the house. She nibbled on her lower lip as she took in the small blue kitchen.

“Not what you expected?” I asked, leaning one shoulder against the wall and crossing my arms. She turned, her blue eyes connecting with mine. The memory from the night before flashed through my head, when those same eyes connected with mine while I buried myself inside of her. They had darkened with her desire, burned me as we held each other’s stares.

“What do I do for a living?” Gwen asked, moving into the living room. I trailed after her, my gaze going to the sofa where she had first seduced me. I wasn’t sure which one of us was unluckier, but at the moment, it felt like me. After finally convincing her there was something between us, someone came along and wiped me completely from her mind. I wanted to scream in frustration, but reserved my temper for the bitch who hexed Gwen. Despite what Micah said, I had my own plans to fix Gwen. Following the rules and laws didn’t interest me, not when I could hand out my own special brand of justice. Once I started ripping someone’s soul from their body they would pretty much do whatever I wanted. Gwen would be back to normal by tomorrow.

“You own a magic shop in town,” I told her.

“I
own
the shop?” she asked with disbelief. “Business must not be good.”

I shrugged. “You do all right. You’re just not materialistic, and the apartment has suited you.”

Wariness crossed her face. “You know me well enough to make that statement?”

“Yes,” I said simply. The only thing I didn’t know about this woman was why I couldn’t seem to walk away from her. I’d gotten what I wanted, taught her enough that she could be a successful spirit walker. There was no reason for me to stick around any longer. I kept telling myself that eventually I’d grow tired of her and move on like all the other times, but as I watched her, walking away was the furthest thing on my mind.

“Okay, so I’m just going to ask,” Gwen said. “What’s our deal?”

“Our deal?” Her obvious nervousness was adorable. In all the time I’d know this woman I’d never seen her look nervous, not like this. Something about it was endearing.

“Cut the shit,” she snapped. “You know what I mean. Are we dating? I mean, you live with me, and we’ve obviously had sex. What’s our deal?”

In all my existence I’d never had ‘the relationship talk.’ There was one woman a couple hundred years ago that I spent time with regularly, but we’d never discussed what that meant. I am Death. Discussing such human traditions was absurd, but standing in this tiny apartment, faced with this confused woman, I never felt more human than I did in this moment and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“I don’t know,” I told her honestly. “This is new, only a couple days old actually. Everything was great and then…”

“Then I lost my memories,” Gwen finished. She looked away and then back to me again. “How are we going to fix this?” I could tell that she was off the relationship issue and more worried about getting her life back. Relieved for the topic change, I walked toward her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, bringing her into me. Reluctantly, she wound her arms around my waist and rested her head against my chest. Holding her felt too damn good.

“I have a plan,” I whispered into the silence of the apartment. “I promise I’ll fix this.”

Lifting her head, Gwen stared up at me. Raising my hand to her face, I brushed her hair back and, ever so slowly, leaned down to kiss her. I didn’t care if she remembered me or not. All I wanted to do was taste her lips again.

“Uh…I think I should get to bed.” She stepped out of my arms before my lips touched hers, avoiding my eyes at all costs. “Where’s my bedroom?”

I sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and released all my pent up aggravation on the exhale. If I were smart, I’d find some bar, pick up a woman, and screw her until Gwen was out of my system. That’s what I should have done, but instead I helped Gwen find her room and then retreated to the sofa. I told myself that I stayed because once again she needed my help, but the truth was, I was here because nothing outside of this apartment interested me. I was beyond my comfort zone, walking blindly through an experience I had yet to encounter.

I rested my head back against the sofa cushions, my left knee bobbing up and down like a crack addict jones-ing for his next fix. Closing my eyes, I tried to think of things that wouldn’t lead me back to Gwen. The problem was, I’d become so immersed in her world that no matter what stray thoughts popped into my head, they all led me back to the woman down the hall. Whatever was wrong with me, I didn’t like it.

I STOOD IN a large open room, the floor hard tile beneath my feet. A cavernous stone fireplace took up one wall, its mouth large enough for someone to walk through. Flames licked against the brick, hissing and popping as it illuminated the space in warmth. Something tickled my feet, and when I looked down; I found thin wisps of fog twining around my ankles like playful fingers. The soft rasp of a man’s chuckle brought my attention back to the room. A beautiful man stood near the fireplace, his hair as black as coal. Little strands fell across his azure eyes. Though not menacing, I noticed the intensity of his gaze. He watched me knowingly, the way only a man who has experienced a woman could. His stare cemented me to the floor, entrapping me in his seductive allure. Who was he, and why did he seem so familiar?

In the time it took me to blink, the man was behind me. His fingers curled around my shoulders, cool and strong. He drew my hair to the side to reveal my bare neck, trailing his nose up the length as he inhaled me. My eyelids fell closed slow and heavy as I tilted my head in the opposite direction to give him all the access he needed. The man was an unmovable barrier at my back, supporting my weight as I sagged against him.

When his lips made contact with my throat, a shudder skipped its way through my body. Energy unlike anything I’d ever felt poked and prodded against every inch of exposed skin. A need stronger than I thought possible overpowered all rational thought until I was near panting for this beautiful stranger. His large hand came around my waist and slid across my stomach. He squeezed his fingers, bunching the material of my nightgown in his tight grip, and began pulling upward. Inch by inch, the nightgown rose, exposing my bare legs, while the man kissed a path down my neck and across my collarbone. The hardness of his erection pressed into my behind, promising me pleasure.