Embrace, Entice, Emblaze (47 page)

taneously turned back to Onyx, who had started swinging the

now empty bottle, making it clear that it would be the next thing headed in our direction.

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“Filthy Grigori,” he slurred.

“Right,” Lincoln said, turning to me, “can we please go now?”

We left Onyx by the side of the road with his empty bottle and

little else.

————

It probably wasn’t the best idea going straight to a club with an open head wound, but we really were late to meet Griffin and I’d insisted I was okay, much to Lincoln’s distress. Apart from the fact that my ear had suffered a massive trauma and was not up for the thumping bass that goes hand in hand with any good club, my

face, neck, and shoulder were also caked in blood. I was glad I couldn’t see all the damage.

The bouncer opened the massive swinging door that had

changed recently from a glossy black finish to an equally polished burnt orange. After a good look up and down, it was only once

Lincoln had slipped the guy a twenty, while promising we were

only stopping in for a minute to collect someone, that he let us in.

Griffin was sitting at the bar. He always looked awkward in his uniform of black pants and navy shirt. He was old- fashioned in style, but I was beginning to think that might be the best thing about him. His loyalty was old- fashioned too.

He was talking to a man we both recognized as the owner of

Hades. Neither Lincoln nor I had met him before, but we were

aware of him and that Griffin believed he was more than human. It was obvious that whatever Griffin was saying to him had the owner seriously annoyed.

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“Should we give them a minute?” I asked Lincoln, as he helped

me through the press of partygoers. My head was exploding.

“What? And miss out on the fun?” He gave me a wink. I smiled

and my heart fluttered as his eyes stayed on me for that moment longer than “only friends.”

Griffin saw us approach and quickly took in my state. “Do I

need to ask?” He spoke with a fatherly tone that I’d learned not to balk at. Griffin was technically eighty- four, and since everything that had happened— the way I’d embraced and then faced Onyx

and Joel— I’d earned his confidence.

He rolled his eyes when I didn’t respond. “It looks like reinforcements couldn’t arrive soon enough.”

I nodded. He wasn’t going to get any argument from me. Two

tutors and three students from the Grigori training center in New York were arriving in two days and I couldn’t have been happier. I was going to be able to learn from the experts and have people my own age to train with, something I really needed. I was sure with their help, I would be able to get over whatever it was that had been holding me back.

Griffin had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of the two senior Grigori— the intelligence, resources, and backup they could provide was much needed. The Scripture that can decipher the identity of all Grigori, even those who have not yet embraced and are therefore defenseless, was at stake.

I would not stand by and watch it fall into the hands of exiles.

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hand, the slaughter would not stop until all humans knelt before them, worshipping them as gods.

“See!” yelled the owner over the music. “This is exactly what

I mean. You people can’t treat this place as some kind of drop- in center. I’m running a business. I don’t want to be involved in

this…this…I mean,
Christ
!” He gestured sharply in my direction.

“She looks like roadkill!”

I looked at Lincoln.

“You do look pretty bad.” He smiled.

“I’ll go to the bathroom and clean up. I’m sorry,” I said to

the owner.

“Well, shit. Don’t go into the girls’ bathroom looking like that.” He ground his jaw. “You can come upstairs.”

I looked at Griffin and Lincoln, suddenly feeling a different type of uncomfortable.

“Yes, yes!” he jumped in, before any of us could say anything.

“You can all damn well come.” He stormed off down the long side of the bar and through an unmarked door at the end, sparing us a
hurry
the
hell
up
glance.

We trudged up the stairs to a short hallway with three doors,

Griffin filling us in as we walked. “His name is Dapper. He’s

some kind of Seer. I’m still not clear on the details, but I do know that he can see what we all are. He seems to be able to see auras that surround people. I think he can pretty much identify anything supernatural.”

“That’s handy. Who’s he playing for?” Lincoln asked.

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Griffin clicked his tongue. “Well, that’s the problem. He’s a

bench warmer with no intention of changing status.”

“Could be worse,” Lincoln said.

“True.”

Lincoln eyed me again. “You holding up?”

“I’m good,” I said, my vision blurring.

“She’s lying,” Griffin said without even turning to look at me.

“Hey,” I protested. It was bad manners to use our powers against each other unless it was a must.

“Sorry,” Griffin said.

“Now who’s lying?” I mumbled.

“Come on!” called Dapper impatiently, standing in an open

doorway. He took up most of the space. I struggled to catego-

rize Dapper, his manicured presentation of pants and black shirt slightly at odds with his rough mannerisms. But the thing that

really threw me: his belt was diamond- studded.

He led us into his apartment. Hades was elaborately decorated

with slashes of rich color and lots of sparkle, so it shouldn’t have surprised me to see the overtly feminine, elegant decor upstairs, but still, I marveled. Dark wooden floorboards were covered with fluffy cream shag rugs and heavy modern furniture that could

only be Italian— being the daughter of an architect meant only

one type of magazine on the coffee table at home. I came from

a world of interior design. It was immaculate and warm at the

same time.

Dapper flicked switches, lighting up the living room and

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hallway to reveal a narrow walkway lined with books— all hard-

cover, all old, none that I recognized. He stomped his way down the hall, directing me to the bathroom, while Griffin and Lincoln lingered by the doorway arguing in hushed tones. I was about to walk back to them and find out what was going on, but then they both looked at me. Whatever they were disagreeing about, it had something to do with me.

Great
.

I turned back toward the bathroom and Dapper.

“Who else lives up here?” I asked, accepting the fresh towel he handed me.

“No one,” Dapper said.

“But the other doors?”

“My office and an apartment.”

“No one lives in it?” I thought he wasn’t going to answer as he looked at me like the very unwanted houseguest I was, but he did.

“It’s just for the bar staff. Sometimes by the time they finish work, it’s too late or they’re too drunk. I let them use it. It keeps them out of my space.”

Lincoln came up behind Dapper and motioned to pass by. “Do

you mind?”

“What? You need to go in and hold her hand?”

Lincoln laughed. “No, but I would like to go in and heal her.”

Dapper looked at me, then to Lincoln. “Yeah, right,” he scoffed, walking away. Lincoln laughed again. I went pink.

I balanced on the edge of the oversized bath feeling nauseous

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and nervous. The line between what was caused by injury and what was a product of my overactive emotions was rapidly blurring.

Sharing bathroom space with someone was sacred.

“I’ve never had to heal anything this bad before,” he said, sitting beside me. He sounded a little uneasy too.

My eyes took in my reflection in one of the three full- length

mirrors in the king- size bathroom. Dapper was totally vain.

“Oh,” I said, looking at my bloodied face and neck. My ear was

still trickling fresh blood, and when I twisted to try to examine the back of my neck, which had been pummeled into the gravel,

Lincoln stopped me.

“Trust me.”

“Oh,” I said again. Then, refusing to look too weak, I shrugged it off. “Okay, well…do your thing.”

“You know I won’t be able to heal these completely,” Lincoln

said, looking down at his intertwined hands and twisting his

fingers. “Griffin…”

When he didn’t elaborate, I raised my eyebrows. “Griffin what?”

“He suggested that…” He blew out a breath. “He thought it

might be best to see if you can…” But he couldn’t find the words and was starting to look like he might up and bolt.

Then I realized why he was looking so impish.
Oh. My. Days.
I flashed back to the one time I had healed Lincoln. To the way we connected, the feeling of my power working its way from my body into his. How together, we healed.

Together— kiss
together.

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“You want me to…” I danced a finger between us.

“It might help you. When you healed me after Onyx, it seemed

like you healed your own injuries at the same time, and since your abilities are so much stronger…”

“Yeah,” I agreed, forcing nonchalance. “I mean…we should try.

I think it might work…” Actually, I had no idea.

He gave a pained smile. “I want you to be healed and I think

this will help, but I don’t want you to do anything that…Griffin doesn’t understand.”

He was right about that. No one but us knew how deep the feel-

ings went— how impossible they were to resist.

“So…you don’t think we should?” I asked, now feeling the blush

of embarrassment.

“No. I think we should. If it means healing you and…if you’re

okay
with it.”

I couldn’t speak.

My mouth had gone dry and I was already panicking that it

would be too dry to kiss— if that was what was about to happen.

But then I got it.

He was making sure I wouldn’t go all schoolgirl on him—

because in the end, we still couldn’t be together. But just the idea of having a moment of closeness with him— even if only for medicinal purposes— was too tempting to deny.

“Don’t panic, Linc. It’s hands- on doctoring— nothing more,”

I said, trying to muster a believable smile.
Liar, liar, pants on fire!

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if I was telling the truth, and for a moment I thought he looked a little disappointed.

He reached gently for my face. “Okay,” he said, already moving

toward me. His eyes were cast down until just before our lips met and then, as if he couldn’t stop them, they met mine…and locked.

Eyes are the windows to the soul— they can say so much in just a brief moment.

His lips smoothly met mine, and gently, his hands went to my

shoulders. I couldn’t stop my eyes closing. As if I had to close myself away from the world— just him and me.

Do
you
close
your
eyes
when
it
is
for
healing? When it isn’t meant to
mean anything…but does?

I could tell he was concentrating on his power, working hard

to heal me. I tried to clear my head and do the same. I stopped thinking about his delicious lips that fit perfectly with mine, pushed aside the feeling of heat rising from him and of sharing the same air, and found my power, tucked deep within me, simmering gently.

At first, my power seemed to reach out to Lincoln, searching for any sign of injury or malfunction. Once satisfied, it turned inward. I could follow it independently, even though it was part of me. When it found Lincoln’s power already within me, the two joined forces and became one, accelerating the process, healing me almost instantly.

I felt Lincoln’s sharp intake of breath. I pressed nearer, drinking in our rare closeness, craving more. Just a few seconds more, a few precious, stolen moments.

He pulled back a fraction. “Violet.”

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“Hmm,” I murmured, just wanting him closer again.

He jolted back, away from me. “Violet, stop! You’re healed.”

“Oh,” I said, as if it were news to me. I shuffled back, averting my gaze, even though I so desperately wanted to look at him and search his eyes. I needed to know why it had been so easy for him to pull away when it had proved so impossible for me.

The quiet in the room amplified each of my heavy breaths,

leaving me so…exposed. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it.

“Could you feel how— ” I started.

“Our powers joined?” he finished.

I assessed myself in the mirror. All sign of injury was gone, bar the dried blood.

“Yeah.” I chanced a glance in his direction, hoping my face

wouldn’t give away everything I was feeling.

He nodded and smiled at me, showing a little awe.

“It’s amazing. I feel completely…fresh.”

He stood but then sat back down and ran his hand through

his hair.

“You know,” he went on, “we can’t.”

“What?”

“The kiss. It was healing, Vi, and soon you’ll learn how to heal without needing to…It wasn’t, you know…It doesn’t count.”