Spell Bound (Darkly Enchanted) (52 page)

“Yes.”

“Leo doesn’t want you to leave.”

His body tightened and a muscle jumped in his jaw. “He’ll be better off away from me right now.”

“I don’t want you to go,” she added softly. “You’re not steady right now—”

He held up one hand like a traffic cop. “Don’t. I don’t think I can stop myself from hurting you if you’re in the way when I blow.”

She shrugged. “That’s okay. I’m up for getting a little rough.”

He groaned low in his throat—in pain or anger, she wasn’t sure which.

“Gabriel, tell me. It might help.”

“This doesn’t concern you.”

Okay, that shouldn’t hurt, but it did. She wanted him to confide in her. Wanted him to need to talk to her. After everything they’d been through in the past few days, she’d thought maybe, maybe he’d open up to her.

Give it up, girl. Ain’t gonna happen.

Trying to swallow down the lump in her throat, she started to follow Leo through the door Digger had closed behind them.

She’d only gone a few steps when Gabriel spun her around, lifted her off her feet and crushed her against him, burying his face against the skin of her neck.

“I’m sorry.” His words sounded like a growl in her ear. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He didn’t say anything else but she felt his heart trip heavily against hers, his chest rising and falling as if he couldn’t get enough air. If the guy didn’t watch it, he was going to hyperventilate.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, the voices quiet behind their wall, she held on. It was all she could do, because he didn’t seem in a hurry to let her go. And she couldn’t honestly say she wanted to be anywhere else.

“That man killed my brother.” Gabriel’s voice held a wealth of despair. “He killed my…my father. I should have killed him before now. But Serena forbid it. Now…I failed them and I failed you.”

The weight on her shoulders grew a little heavier. She had to find a way to end this and soon. Too many lives were at stake—Gabriel’s, her brother’s, Quinn’s, Serena’s. And nine other
streghe
who lived in constant fear for their lives.

“If anyone’s failed, it’s me.”

She hadn’t meant to say the words out loud, but there they were.

Gabriel drew back to look at her, shaking his head. “You can’t be blamed for any of this.”

“I’m supposed to break the curse. It’s my destiny, my purpose for being. It’s the only reason I was born. And I’ve failed.”

Fast-rising misery choked her. Goddess, she’d failed at everything so far. She’d run away from home and left her parents open to attack. Leo had almost been taken from her twice, and the women were still cursed.

“No, Shea.” His arms tightened around her. “You haven’t failed. We’ll figure it out.”

Not we. I have to find the strength to finish this.

But first, she needed…

Gabriel stared at her, dark eyes still stained with a grief she didn’t understand. Was he so worried about Quinn? Then he shook his head and pulled her tight against him again.

“You know we’re both completely fucked up. How the hell’d we get his far?”

She laughed, as she was supposed to, and swallowed a sob. “Just lucky, I guess.”

Which was a complete joke. It wasn’t luck. The only reason she was still alive and Leo wasn’t with Dario was because of Gabriel. She wanted to stay in his strong arms and never leave.

She just didn’t think it was meant to be.

Tightening her arms around his waist, she turned to rest her lips against his neck and felt a shudder move through him.

She loved the way he responded to her. Loved that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

Loved him.

* * *

Gabriel felt his control give way at the touch of Shea’s lips, and he sought her mouth with a savage groan.

He needed her, needed to kiss her until all the other shit in his head went away. The reality of Dario’s relationship to him was something he couldn’t think about or he might just fall off the brink.

With one arm wrapped around her waist, he used his free hand to grab her chin and angle her mouth so he could devour her. He was rough, grinding his mouth on hers until she opened to him. It didn’t take much, but he couldn’t stop.

He plunged his tongue between her lips the way he wanted to take her body, hard and strong and just a little violent. He wanted to feel something other than this rage, but the rage was bleeding over onto her and he couldn’t stop.

She didn’t seem to mind. Her fingers latched onto his hair, nails scraping across his scalp, sending shivers through him. Then she sank her nails into his shoulders and pressed her hips into his, drawing his attention lower.

Sliding his hand beneath her t-shirt, he cupped one silky bare breast, rubbing his thumb against the already taut peak until she moaned into his mouth and arched into him more fully.

With a groan, he set her away from him only long enough to rip his shirt over his head. She followed his lead, dropping her shirt at her feet and standing in front of him naked from the waist up.

The lust in her expression tightened his already throbbing cock into a painful, burning ache. As her gaze trailed from his chest to his stomach and finally to the bulge of his crotch, his hand shot out to cup her nape.

He drew her back to him, eyes drifting closed as he absorbed the feel of her skin against his, hands splayed across her back. Her breasts nestled against his chest, the tips hard and pointed.

Her warm hands on his hips, she urged him even closer, until his cock pressed hard against her lower stomach, left bare by her low-riding jeans.

He ground against her and felt her hands trail from his waist to his chest, where she covered his nipples with first her palms then plucked the erect points with her fingers.

Holy Goddess, she was going to make him combust. He wanted to take her to the floor, roll her under him and spread her legs. Cupping the back of her head, he positioned her to take his mouth again and sucked on her tongue when she snaked it between his lips.

His cock rubbed against his jeans, demanding release. He had to get his jeans off so he could take her. They both needed to be naked.

She already had her hands on the button at his waistband, trying to force the little metal disk through the hole. Her knuckles dug into his stomach and she whimpered when she didn’t get them open on the first try.

He moved his hands to help her—

And someone cleared his throat behind them.

Chapter Twenty
-One

Gabriel shot to his feet, pushing Shea behind him to shield her. Adrenaline tore through his veins with razor-sharp claws.

He turned to find Matt Tedaldi leaning against the door, a bland look on his face as he stared at him.

It took Gabriel several seconds to put words together.

“You’re late.”

Matt snorted. “Apparently not late enough.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed and his fists curled at the implication in Matt’s laconic drawl. Behind him, he heard Shea pull on her shirt then step to his side.

Matt didn’t acknowledge her, just addressed Gabriel. “They need to be ready to move in five. We’ll head for Louisiana, see Maddie. Then Texas. I’ll let you know where we end up.”

Shea’s mouth firmed at Matt’s deliberate snub, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. For a second, he thought she might go straight for Matt’s chin with her fist. She’d reached the end of her rope.

Then Matt turned to Shea and smiled. Gabriel’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He’d never seen Matt smile. Not once in the fifteen years he’d known him.

“I take it you’re Shea.”

She nodded, staring at Matt like he was a bug under a microscope.

Surprisingly, he stuck out his hand and leaned away from the door to shake. “You look just like your mama. Pretty woman. Where’s the boy?”

Shea took a deep, shaky breath. “With Digger.”

Matt nodded, his expression softening just a bit. “Then I suggest you get him and your stuff so we can go. Got a lot of miles to cover.”

For a few seconds, she stared at Matt with her mouth set in a mutinous line. Then those pretty lips softened and quivered and, without another word or a look in his direction, she pushed through the door Digger and Leo had disappeared into.

He expected to hear the door slam. It didn’t.

“Christ, Gabe.” Matt’s drawl thickened with disgust. “Didn’t you learn anything from your daddy? He would have been the first to tell you not to get emotionally attached to any of them.”

The words got out before he could stop them. “Davis wasn’t my father.”

Matt shocked the hell out of him with his next statement. “Well, no shit, Sherlock. Not by blood, anyway. Anyone who had half a brain could tell by looking at you. But most people don’t look beyond what they’re told. Some of us don’t want to. But Davis loved you like you were his, and if you wanna shit on his memory, then you do it away from me.”

Gabriel opened and closed his mouth twice before he could speak. “You knew?”

“Knew what? That Davis wasn’t your biological father? Shit, yeah. Don’t know if anyone else did. Can’t help you with who the real deal is.”

Gabriel didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t need any help figuring out who his real father was. He knew. He just didn’t want to believe, didn’t want—No, he couldn’t go there.

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

Matt shrugged. “Wasn’t my place. Besides, I’m not much for getting involved.”