Witch Way to Turn (18 page)

“Back in the early 1700s, Catholicism wasn’t held in high regard in Colonial America. The priest in our town thought he’d repent of his sins and gain the favor of the townspeople by self-punishing. His practice extended to the orphans in the parish as well.

He cut crosses into our palms, every day.

We had nowhere else to go, so we took the abuse. I took it. He’d done it for so long I didn’t know it was wrong until years later.”

“Orin, I’m so sorry.” Breena wanted to say she couldn’t imagine what he’d gone through, but she’d suffered through similar abuse, except Norma had offered a little more variety. Thankfully, though, she’d never been cut. Norma’s weapons of choice were a sharp tongue and heavy fists.

Breena took his hand in hers. He allowed her to turn it over. Her gaze fell on the thin white cross. Even death hadn’t taken away the scars. “When did you realize it was wrong?”

“Years later, when I came of age. I left the parish and never looked back.” He blinked several times before folding his hands together. “Trouble seemed to follow me though. I moved to northern Virginia and a blood-sucker found me. Really, it was my own fault. I liked to walk late at night in the woods. I never thought I’d fear anything more than the priest and his straight razor. I was wrong. A vampire going through an experimental phase turned me. For ten years I went through hell at his hands.”

“How did you get away?”

“The queen. She saved me. I pledged my loyalty and service to her and he was my first assignment.” Orin’s gaze seemed to hold a silent, hollow victory.

“The queen is how you became a preternatural?”

“Yes. She’d been a vampire far longer than me, though she never talked about those years. She wanted to become human again and was searching for other vampires who shared her desire. The hope of regaining our humanity gave us something to live for.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment.

Impatience got the best of Breena. “So a preternatural is sorta like the opposite of a vampire?”

“In many ways, yes.”

As she thought about this, she couldn’t help but wonder. “Do you bite someone to turn them?”

“No, preternaturals aren’t turned. We have offspring the same way humans do.”

Breena nodded.

His dark gaze brightened when it met hers. “Do you want me to bite you?” He reached across the seat to gently lay his hand on her inner thigh. “There’s a tender spot right here.”

And just like that, Orin seemed to have forced his pain into a closet, locked the door and thrown away the key. Breena knew from the rawness in his voice that he’d never shared his story with anyone before. He’d tried to make a connection, to share, to heal. And she wondered if she was capable of the same.

A shiver rippled through her. “I don’t want to be bitten,” she finally answered.

“Too bad. Come on. Time for your surprise.” He patted her leg before poofing out of the car.

Excitement took over. Breena stepped out and closed the door behind her, giddy with anticipation. Orin reached down to tangle his fingers with hers.

She opened the front door and flipped on the light, expecting her empty little apartment to greet her. Instead, a huge leather couch, two side chairs, a coffee table, a flat-screen TV, a four person dining room set, and new–sturdy looking–barstools gleamed at her.

“Orin.” Her mouth went dry. She didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t what she’d expected–maybe a nice meal or some candles–but holy over-the-top surprise, Batman.

Damn.

This was some serious stalker shit.

She needed a drink of water badly so she headed to the kitchen, leaving Orin in the living room.

When she walked into the kitchen, he stood in front of the fridge. “Already stocked.” He opened the door.

She noticed four big bottles of POM, but grabbed a bottle of Evian. Boy, he splurged on the pricey stuff.

Once she’d downed half the bottle she felt semi-hydrated again. She’d nosed around the cabinets while she gulped. He’d even bought pots and pans and dishes and cups. Pulling open a drawer, she spotted new silverware.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Um…well…” How did she say this without coming across as completely ungrateful? “It’s nice. Really nice.”

“But?” He leaned against the counter.

“But…it’s a little much.” It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the gesture, no matter how stalker-esque it might be. But she’d always taken care of herself and Jenny. And really, what was Orin saying by poofing in and making a show of what he could do so easily and she couldn’t? She hadn’t let Myles give her money and she wouldn’t let Orin furnish her apartment.

He smiled.

“What? I just rejected your gift.”

“You’re an enigma.”

“And that’s a good thing?” She took another sip of water.

“Keeps me guessing.” His gaze went all hot and dreamy as he watched her.

Her cheeks burned. And for a brief second she pictured herself coming home to an apartment filled with luxuries and a guy who’d give her anything. Do anything for her.

“You haven’t seen the best part yet.” Orin smiled. “It might just change your mind.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

Standing in the doorway of Jenny’s room, she couldn’t deny that this was, indeed, the best part. Beautiful. A little girl’s dream. Different shades of purple on the plush comforter. Sheer, flowing curtains dotted with white daisies. Miniature lantern lights strung around the room. Stuffed animals on the bed. A dresser decked out with perfumes and dress-up jewelry. A desk with a lavender laptop and matching printer.

Holy hell
.

This was exactly what she wanted to give Jenny.
She
wanted to give. But accepting this… Breena looked around the room. She’d have to admit she wasn’t enough…that she couldn’t do it on her own. Well, maybe she could, but would Jenny be in college by then? Still, who was she to deny her sister something that would bring a little joy into her life? “Okay, this stuff stays. The rest is gone.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“And I’m paying you back.” Even though she could practically see her paycheck vanishing before her eyes.

“Okay. If that’s what you want.”

She looked up at him as he leaned against the doorframe. “Thanks.”

“Welcome, Breena.” His eyes sparkled.

She wanted so bad to be in the moment. To maybe even be brave enough to press herself up against him and steal a kiss before he asked for it. But she couldn’t. Pain and anger still gnawed at her. She wanted the guilt and agony gone, and Orin could take it away. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Name it.”

“Take away my pain.”

Chapter 15

Orin traced the curve of Breena’s neck. Lifted her chin with his fingertips. Strange as she was, as often as she shot him down, he’d keep going back for more. He wanted her, heart and soul.

If he had to start with her soul, then so be it. He was patient. He’d wait for her heart to come around. Right now, she had the blood-bond with the vampire but it wouldn’t last. He’d make sure of that.

She looked so delicate. Fragile. Her body relaxed under his touch, her eyes closed and her lips parted.

He took his time, savoring the buildup to the glorious taste of her soul. He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her nose then the tender spot directly under her chin. She let out a little gasp, which sent his ears straight through his hair. Everything about her captivated him in a way no other ever had.

So why did his queen want her dead? There had to be more to it. His other kills had been a threat to Her Highness. Breena hadn’t even known what she was until he’d told her. How could she be a threat? But right now the
why
and
how
weren’t important. Easing her pain was. If only he could take it away forever.

He allowed the melody of her soul to penetrate his thoughts, allowed the desire to consume him. Leaning forward, he twined one hand into her silken hair and cradled her neck with the other. Her pulse raced against his palm.

He touched his lips to hers, tasted the sweetness of her kiss, then inhaled, luring her soul out and coaxing away her pain. Each breath left him thinking about the next. He wanted another. Needed another. Had to have it. He’d only ever tasted something this powerful once before, with an Ancient One.

Did Breena know what she was capable of?

His hands began to tremble. He tried to pull away. Couldn’t. Her soul kept pouring into him and he didn’t think he had enough control to stop.

Terror gripped him.

* * * *

Breena experienced exactly what Orin had said she would. No pain. As his lips moved with hers, tasted her soul, she was free. Liberated from the guilt and fear she’d carried for so long. This freedom was just the addiction she’d been looking for. The high she craved.

Then he didn’t stop taking breaths, and his hand in her hair started to shake.

When her fingers and toes went numb, the worry set in. What was happening? Why didn’t he stop? Could he
not
stop?

She shoved against his chest with her palms and then with her fists as the worry swelled into panic, like a wave of nausea flooding over her.

He didn’t budge.

His body was a boulder on top of her. She couldn’t speak because his lips had vacuum-sealed to hers. If she didn’t do something soon she’d lose consciousness.

Her thoughts muddled together in a pool of confusion. She needed to get away from him. But where?

Someplace safe.

Shutting her eyes, she could think of only one place she truly felt safe. She concentrated, hoping visualizing it would somehow make it easier. Fear gave her a boost of adrenaline. She didn’t want to die.

Seconds later, her body shattered like an ice sculpture under a hammer. A pounding headache and dizziness replaced nausea as her body pressed into a fluffy object.

When she opened her eyes, she was sitting on the couch in Myles’s house.

“Bree?” Myles stood in the doorway of the living room. He looked dumbstruck. His canines slid over his lips and his desire for her flowed through her veins.

She shivered, looking down at her exposed flesh.

Shit. I’m naked.

What the hell had happened to her clothes? Guess she needed a little more practice with the poofing action. Bright side, at least she was still alive.

Reaching for the closest thing she could find, which had to be a tiny throw pillow, she tucked her legs under her and covered up what she could with the little square. Embarrassment warmed her cheeks.

Myles kept his distance and averted his eyes. “You aren’t wearing any clothes.”

“What gave it away?”

Hate flowed through her before he said anything. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, he didn’t. Not at first...”

Suddenly, he zipped to her side, despite the fact that she was more than a little vulnerable. “He’s fed on you,” he snarled.

“What did you think we were doing?” Then she realized–Myles had thought she’d gotten it on with Orin. Well, she was naked after all.

“You’re weak. I can feel it in your blood. The unnatural couldn’t stop, could he?”

She didn’t respond. Surely Orin could’ve stopped before it was too late. She needed to believe he would have.

“He’s dangerous, Breena. You have to listen to me–”

“Myles Young, I don’t have to listen to anyone. I’m my own woman. You can choke on a blood clot for all I care.”
Humphing
for emphasis, she clutched the cloth pillow.

Leaning forward, he shook his head and gave her the sexy smile she hadn’t realized she’d missed. “Really, Bree, a blood clot?” He laughed.

Okay, so maybe the clot comment bordered on overkill, but the blood thing was going to give her emotional whiplash. She’d gone from surprised to horny to angry to jovial in less than five minutes. “I need some clothes.”

“Stay there.”

Where else would she go? Breena rolled her eyes, even though he’d already sped down the hall.

When he came back, he handed her a button-up long sleeve shirt and a pair of his boxers.

She took them. “Thanks.”

Myles’s desire silently ate away at him, and it didn’t take the blood-bond to clue her in to the fact. The longing on his face said it all. Why couldn’t he admit it?

Well, hell. What if he did admit it? What then? What if he told her he loved her?

Would you really leave Orin for him?
she had to ask herself.

The answer, like everything else in her life, was complicated. Before the blood-bond with the vamp and her connection to Orin, she would’ve said yes without hesitation. But now, things had changed. Was it possible to give one guy your heart and another your soul?

Whatever. Boy troubles were gonna have to wait. First things first.

Gotta get my PG-13 on.

“Um, think you could turn around?”