Dangerous Lovers (53 page)

Could dead people puke? Because I was pretty sure I was about to. I pushed that sensation down as I squinted my eyes. I didn’t want anyone to see me this lovesick, not even Skylynn.

“Let me guess: death is not my color or something,” I said, hoping sarcasm would mask the quake in my voice.

“He wants to let you die. He thinks that is the only way to keep you safe, out of his war. Indie, I could tell him a million times, the people who are fighting with us now could tell him, but he won’t listen—he doesn’t understand that without you the war will end in self-destruction. In his mind, you will die and he will find you again, in another form, another life.”

“I’m too pissed off to die,” I fumed, thinking of Rasure, how she’d tormented me my entire life, and how she was now set to win my family name, my inheritance. And if that wasn’t enough, she had taken my only chance of happiness away. Two weeks. If I were alive in two weeks, the manor would have been mine and Skylynn would have brought me Sebastian. Life would have been perfect.

“You need to tell him that.”

“He left, Skylynn. He left with his brother, and he never came back.” I sucked in a breath. “Eventually, Ben will lose his court battle and they will pull the plug on my body, but I’m not going anywhere. I will haunt that bitch to the end of time.”

“A vengeful spirit. Now, that is not a good color for you—and sadly something that is very possible.” She hesitated as she thought over something, then went on. “I don’t think Rasure has any idea who you really are. If she did, you would not have survived this long. Escorts feed on energy. She fed off your endless grief, the grief of your enormous family over the years. She will feed off your loss, the grief this town has, and never realize that she lived under the same roof of the one soul that could end her. You’re going to have to let go and die the way Phoenix wishes, or you are going to have to convince him to save you so you can finish your work here and move on to the real war.”

“Where are my friends?” I asked with an ache in my voice. I had to know if they’d already moved on, if I was now truly alone.

Skylynn looked down. “Phoenix and I stepped into your loop, because we did, you came out of it faster. In their minds, they are still struggling for life, clinging to that river bank.”

“What!”

“When you die without warning, you relive your last moments, sometimes day, a few times over. It’s your soul’s way of saying goodbye or understanding that life in that form cannot exist anymore. Only a few fight their way back. They will tumble through those last hours a time or two more…then it will be over.”

“Nothing is over!” I bellowed, breaking free from the hold of the energy that had been keeping me in place.

I charged out of the room, down the hall, then to the stairs. There, I found grief. The first floor of my manor was filled with all of my brothers and sisters, their spouses, children, and family friends. They were mourning my grandmother and preparing to mourn for me.

I charged through the front door and ran toward the side yard, through the snowy woods that I knew the lake I’d perished in was behind.

I gasped for air as I scraped by trees, brush, and every obstacle that could stop me from reaching the lake that had taken my life.

Finally, I reached it, and when I did I heard coughing. I saw our bodies lying on the bank, fighting the cold, fighting for air.

There were others standing over our bodies, the bodyguards that had followed me to the shop earlier and the girl in red that was with Wilder.

The men were standing over Gavin and Sophia, and what looked like fog was rising from their bodies and moving into the men. That act seemed to bring them absolute bliss. The girl was over Mason, pulling the same fog from him, smiling seductively as she did.

They were sucking the life out of us, and without a doubt Wilder, Cadence, and I were next on their list. Without fear, I charged toward the girl. My rage-filled touch froze her instantly, and she locked eyes with me as the ice consumed her. It was like I was the last person she expected to see bring on her demise. I kicked her, breaking the ice, breaking her image into a thousand pieces.

I charged for the men next. I froze the one over Sophia, but just as I went to kick him I felt the other one pin my arms behind my back and for the first time in my life I felt cold, really cold. But that didn’t last long. A burn came instantly. I turned, grateful for the warmth and just in time to see the man fall to ash.

To see Phoenix standing there, staring at me with gray eyes, which had fire in their centers.

Chapter Eight

My heart was thundering in my chest. Every emotion known within my soul was surging through me. It was enough emotion to freeze the planet, end life on this rock, but no ice came. It didn’t come because my soul was on fire. Those memories, millions of them, were flooding my mind. I relived every moment I had spent in the North Wing over the last five years in a split second. Every part of me ached to pull him to me in a warm embrace, to welcome him back into my arms in some way. I felt like the hell of my life had vanished at the sight of him. He was a game-changer. I didn’t even know him in this life but already knew I would never forget him—I would never get over him.

The images of my friends vanished instantly, and silence came to the snowy night.

“What did you do with them?” My voice quivered as I struggled to quiet my mind.

Phoenix slanted his head ever so slightly, letting his blazing gaze ease down my body. Everywhere his eyes wandered, I felt a burn—the act of breathing was more than I could manage. That look, that one right there, was one of the thousands I’d craved to see aimed in my direction. My stare grew wider, and I was unable to hide how familiar he seemed to me. I told myself I was a fool when my reaction was not met equally. He was keeping his emotions at a distance, so much so that I doubted Skylynn’s words, at least the ones that said this boy somehow thought I was his.

“Resting.”

“They’re not resting,” I said as I pulled myself back into focus. “What were those people doing to them?”

“Feeding.”

A sick feeling climbed in my throat. I charged past him, but he appeared in front of me in that instant. “Where are you going, Love?” he said with an ache in his velvety smooth voice.

“To kill Rasure. Freeze her to death.”

“That’s my place,” he said with a lethal edge to his tone. I felt my soul seize. He was making my head spin. One second he acted as if I were some chore he had to complete, and the next he acted as if it were his place to seek vengeance on any harm Rasure had brought me.

I felt both relief and anger at the same time. Part of me was grateful he was now here—I felt a weight lift. The other part of me was furious that he hadn’t been here until now. Anger won that battle just as I said, “This is not your war. That woman has tormented me for too long.”

“Longer than you know.” His eyes fell into mine, and it took everything I had not to think of all those visions that were still fluttering in my mind. “I need you to let go. Die in peace. I will avenge your death. End her.” Emotion. He finally conveyed it in its raw form, without distance. I recognized that look in his eyes. It was the same one I saw when I looked in the mirror each morning. It was full of grief, pain, and determination to stay strong, move forward, closed off from the real world. He moved closer, and against my neck he breathed, “Please.” His body trembled slightly, as if that one word had sealed his fate.

I swallowed nervously as I casually leaned my head to the side, meeting his forehead to my temple. I closed my eyes, trying to suppress the burning sensation that was waving through my soul.

“I don’t know how to live or die in peace.”

I felt him tense next to me. The air around us became lighter. I knew this sensation. It was the way I always felt when I walked the halls of the North Wing or beckoned a memory of my family forward. It was the moment where grief faded and hope began to blossom deep inside.

I pulled my shoulders back as I moved away from him. “I’m going to kill her, then I’m going to kill everyone like her.”

Instantly, he’d gently pinned my arms behind my back, pressed his firm body against mine, and let his gray eyes bore into me. “I wasn’t there to protect you before, and it has cost me more pain than I care to dwell on…let go, I’ll follow you soon enough. I promise you that.”

I gasped hearing it for myself. He did think I was his. He did remember me. He was giving truth to the memories that were flooding me.

Under his touch, I felt passion, life. I felt everything I’d thought I deserved to feel—everything I wanted to feel with my almost lovers but couldn’t because I was in love with a memory that I thought could never be relived.

“I’m not going anywhere until she is dealt with. I will not let her destroy my family name. I owe that to my parents—that is the reason fate did not let me leave this world with them. It’s my job to kill her. Let me go.”

His grip tightened. “I’m your family.
We
have a family.”

“Had.” I wanted to take that word back as soon as I said it because I knew that was not completely the truth, and I couldn’t bear the pain I saw reflecting back at me. I bit my lip in an effort to stop myself from apologizing, to confessing that the one thing I looked forward to every day was watching our life then and begging him to explain to me how come we have been apart, why he didn’t come back, what happened to me then.

He tilted his head ever so slightly, letting his eyes fall to my lips. “Love, have you learned to lie…after all this time?” He let my arms go and slowly reached one hand for my hip and the other for my face.

My insides caved in. This was not the first time I had witnessed him call my image out on clouded truth. I felt like I had stepped into my favorite movie or book, and I could not comprehend it. I couldn’t understand how real this dream had become. It was terrifying me. I was terrified to realize that I loved him. Not his memory, not the idea of him, or even the fantasy of him. I loved
him
.

Within the next beat, his lips were on mine. I held mine firmly closed at first, not wanting to fall any deeper down this dark rabbit hole.

But the warmth of his lips forced a gasp from me, giving him a way in. I was too far gone at that moment to refuse him any longer. As if his kiss were my source of air, I pulled him closer, let my hungry lips claim his. As his hands squeezed my waist then moved further south, my memories of him changed. Instead of watching this love affair at a safe distance, I was the memory. I remembered his touch. I craved it. I’d mourned it, now I was living it.

In the North Wing, we were not always kind to each other—some fairy tale lovers—we were a real couple with real arguments. The fact is, we were both stubborn and at times had to agree to disagree. A kiss like this was exactly how every argument ended.

Something wild inside of me broke loose and I found myself pulling him closer, letting my starving hands roam over every part of him that I could reach as his did the same. I felt a shield breaking away from my soul. I felt myself take in a breath of relief. I let myself feel vulnerable in his arms. I was letting him in.

I’d been touched before, but never like this. Each time his hand moved, my skin ached, wanting the humming fire of his touch to return to the abandoned spot.

Beats later, I came to my senses. I was dead. He was a phoenix, and I had people who were counting on me to save them. I didn’t have time to make out on some lakeshore. Reluctantly, I pulled away from his lips and leaned my forehead to his chin as I closed my eyes.

“I missed you,” he whispered into the night.

It was a reflex. I never would have meant to say my next words aloud. “Where have you been?”

He glanced away, as if the last thing he expected was for me to acknowledge his words.

“Lost.”

My bank of memories was cruel to me. Instead of the bliss, they showed me what I saw this morning, our last night, him leaving to try and stop a war and protect his brother at the same time. That horrible howling noise coming from the dome room, the purple fire encasing the manor. I couldn’t bring myself to imagine what happened to me after he left the last time.

I had to move away from him and stay focused on what I was doing. I couldn’t come to grips with what was going on between him and me because I was losing my mind, and I was losing my mind because supposedly I was dead. I had to fix this. I had to find a way to save us all, and the only way I could see to do that was to end Rasure’s reign.

The water from the lake lapped onto the bank, bringing my nightmares to mind. Both of those dreams never let me back into that water. The first go around, I thought I was going after a camera; the second time told me it was a key. I didn’t know what the key unlocked, but I knew I was no fool and that if my living, breathing soul wanted it, so did my dead one.

I turned to the water, but he was there blocking my way. I would be a liar if I said the power he wasn’t even trying to display was turning me on, distracting me from my anger. This was a new aspect to him, one that I liked. A lot.

“Let go.” He breathed in. “Follow your almost lovers to the grave. I’ll finish this.”