Winds of Salem (37 page)

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Authors: Melissa de La Cruz

BOOK: Winds of Salem
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“Mothers are not supposed to outlive their daughters,” Joanna said.

Freya shook her head adamantly. “Mom,
no
!”

“I’ll always be with you, my dear.” Joanna cupped her daughter’s face in her palms. “Always!”

Joanna felt her heart fill with love for her girl. Here she was at last—still so alive, stunning in her little shift, like Vivaldi’s “Spring” itself.

There were sounds outside in the lobby—the receptionist protesting—and when the door opened, Joanna could not believe her eyes. “Norman!” she said. “What are you doing here?” He seemed to be with some sort of prisoner trapped in a fishing net. “Is that Odin?”

“Yes. It’s a long story.” He smiled.

“But how did you get here? This far down in the glom?”

He moved toward her. “Don’t you know?” Tears brimmed in his eyes, the color of a tempestuous sea. He had seen her out on the beach that day and had followed her into the water. “Wherever you go, I go.”

Joanna was speechless, befuddled, seeing that storm within him. “But… you can’t! You don’t belong here… You can’t stay! You love mid-world!”

He smiled. “So do you! But I love you and our children more.”

Joanna fell into his arms, sobbing. “I thought I would never see you again.”

Norman smiled. “We have a lifetime together, here.”

“Freddie!” Freya yelped, spying her twin behind her father. “You’re here, too? What happened?”

“The path to Hell is paved with good intentions.” Freddie smiled. He had killed the serpent, but it appeared he had killed himself as well. Helheim demanded a death, so his father had given him his. He and his twin were so alike it was ridiculous.

“Come on, sis, let’s go home,” he said, steering her gently away from their parents before everyone got too sad or hysterical. Freddie hated saying good-bye.

chapter fifty-four
The Love of a Lifetime

Ingrid and Troy returned to the North Hampton shores through the passages of time at the same moment Freya and Freddie burst through the portal from the underworld. Ingrid cried as she hugged her sister. “But how?”

“We’ll explain later…” Freya said, smiling wistfully as Freddie hugged the two of them close. She didn’t want to tell Ingrid about what had happened to their parents just yet, didn’t want to tell her the extent of their loss. “But did I take a wrong turn in the glom or is that really who I think it is?”

“Yeah, hey, Freya,” Troy said.

Freya looked at Ingrid and Troy with a curious smile, but Ingrid shook her head.

“No—it’s okay. We’re just friends,” she said firmly. She put her hands on her sister’s shoulders. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“I’m here because of you.” Freya smiled.

“And Killian?”

“I don’t know,” Freya said, her smile fading a little. “He was with me in Salem… with Bran, too… but I think it’s okay.”
She thought of that dream she’d had of the very first time she had encountered both of them. They had made magic that night, the three of them. “I think I’ll see them soon enough.”

They said their good-byes to Troy.

“Coming, Ingrid?” Freddie asked as he and Freya turned to head home.

“Not just yet,” she said.

Ingrid said good-bye to her family and made her way to a familiar, architecturally modern house in the hills. Matt was in bed when she slipped inside his room.

“How’d you get in?” he asked sleepily.

“Magic,” she whispered. Her powers had returned in full force, and she could feel the strength returning to her body, how electrified all her senses were, how alert, but it was not just magic that was making her feel this way, she knew.

“So, is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah—I think so. As much as it can be,” she said. Freya didn’t have to tell her. She knew as soon as she saw their faces that something terrible had happened, and she could guess that it involved Norman and Joanna. In her grief, Ingrid found she could only find comfort in the arms of the man she loved.

“When you left with him, part of me thought you might never come back to me.”

“Matt,” she said. “I’m here now.”

He reached up and pushed her hair out of her face and didn’t answer. There was nothing to say. He knew she knew what he wanted, what they both wanted, when it came down to it. Now it was just the two of them, alone, together, in bed…

She stared back at him, wondering when he was going to kiss her. What was he waiting for? Her heart pounded through her chest, or felt as if it did.

She was tired of being shy, so she lowered her face to his and
kissed him, throwing her arms around him as she hiked up her skirt and straddled him, their kisses growing deeper and more breathless, and his hand inching ever upward. She bit his lips and began to kiss his neck, tracing his jaw, as he writhed beneath her, groaning softly. Matt struggled with the zipper on her skirt until he gave up and it bunched against her waist, while Ingrid couldn’t unbutton his pajamas fast enough.

He pulled her blouse over her head and pulled down her bra, and he was kissing her, kissing her all over, and it was her turn to moan. This was as far as they usually went, as much as she would dare, but this time she closed her eyes and reached down, slipping her hand under his boxers. She trembled from desire, from wanting him so much. She wanted him inside her…
now
.

He groaned louder, breathing heavily into her ear, holding her above him, and he whispered, “Are you sure?”

In answer, she lowered herself upon him, taking him inside her, gasping at the pain as he broke through her slowly, so slowly, and then all at once, and she cried in pain and pleasure of being filled, and her hands were on his shoulders and his were on her back, holding her as she rocked on top of him, until she could take his full length. He bit her shoulder and flipped her on her back, a surprise attack, and he withdrew, only to slam back inside her, and this time she gasped.

“Oh!”

“Am I hurting you?”

She shook her head and wrapped her legs tighter around his torso, thinking,
This, this, this, this is what I have wanted—have needed for so long—this
… And he was rocking against her, tenderly, then so fast, and hard, and she wanted it harder and faster, and then he was pulling her up to him again, so that she rocked on top of him, and then she was nothing but sensation and stars and she was lost, and cresting, and then a wave, crashing on the
beach, and it was all white bright and pleasure, and Matt was groaning and roaring, and calling her name, crying out his love as he came inside her.

And they were shaking, still shaking…

Why had she waited this long?

Because she had been waiting for him…

They fell back on the bed, panting, slick and tingling, twitching like fish on deck. Ingrid rested her head on his chest. Matt sighed. “Mmm. I’m glad you’re back. Never leave me again, Ingrid,” he whispered in her ear as they drifted off to sleep.

The next day Ingrid woke up to the feel of his kisses, and soon they were right back where they started. It was even sweeter the second time. Afterward they wandered to the kitchen in a daze, looking for breakfast. There was a package of frozen blini and a tin of caviar in the fridge. Matt didn’t remember buying either. A miracle—or magic? It didn’t matter. They ate their meal, naked, standing at the counter, with crème fraîche and champagne. They couldn’t stop touching each other. He ran his hands along her slim, strong arms.

She put her head on his shoulder, content.

The joy was worth the pain.

north hampton
the present
easter
chapter fifty-five
Left Behind

Inside her Mini, Freya sang along to Dan Auerbach’s wistful “Goin’ Home” as she drove up a winding hill. Like the narrator in the song, she had spent too much time away. It was good to be back in North Hampton this last month.

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