A Witch's Love (18 page)

Slowly at first but as her nails began to dig into his back, his speed increased.

“Harder,” she moaned.

Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her as he stood. His hands moved to her backside, moving with her as she rode him. Throwing back her head, she moaned with pleasure as her legs tightened around his waist.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he breathed.

He stepped out of his jeans that had fallen around his ankles and braced her against the cabin wall. His hand kneaded her breast as he savagely suckled her neck.

Circling his arms around her he turned, he let their bodies fall back onto the bed. His arms that had protected her now braced his weight over her. He continued to pump into her, causing her body to pulse. Her panting turned into a gasp as the pleasure overtook her. Her moans overwhelmed him, causing him to peak.

His seed spilled into her. He growled as his marking scent filled her to the brink, sating the beast. He collapsed on top of her, trying to calm his racing heart.

Ava’s breathing was heavy while she played with his hair. She clung to him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Sweat trickled down his back but he was still able to feel the tears that fell onto his shoulder.

Fear struck him when he realized she was crying. “Oh shit, Ava, did I hurt you?” he asked, lifting his head from her body.

She shook her head as a smile stretched across her face. “I just never knew it could be this good.”

Relief washed over him. He tucked her around him, needing to feel her close. He moved her hair away from her face, kissing her forehead. Her eyes were closed, her breathing slow. He wanted her to rest, to feel protected, always, but he knew they had to leave. It was time to save her sisters, face the dark forces that surrounded them, be done with this war once and for all. If only she knew he was going to do it alone.

Traxen had planted the seed, now all he had to do was wait to see if it would grow. He had spent the night in the bar, sipping on his glass of bourbon and recounting the ‘so-called’ stories of his capture by demons, and his harrowing escape. He had expected disbelief by the immortals, but was only met by sympathy. For some unknown reason, their pity made him angry. Finishing his drink, and his duty, he made his way out of the bar.

He was about to blink back to the hive,
to Ella,
when he noticed the light pink of the sky. Morning.

She would be hungry, all the sisters would be. Looking down the street, he spotted a restaurant and decided he needed to provide them with sustenance. Had the liquor he’d just consumed gone straight to his head?

Minutes later he was back in the hive. He dropped off the sisters’ food before returning to his room,
to Ella.

Holy hell! His thoughts betrayed his very existence. He wasn’t their friend, he was their captor and nothing more. He was only feeding them so they wouldn’t die. After all, they were still mortal.
She
was here, they all were, to serve a purpose. He had been commanded to make sure everything was carried out successfully. It was his duty.

He had never failed before.

She’d been sleeping when he returned, in his bed that he gladly let her use. Warmth filled his chest. It seemed every time he saw her, he was surprised by his body’s reaction to her. When he first met her, he respected her bravery, then his lust for her almost consumed him, but now he was feeling something much deeper. He couldn’t name the feeling. It surpassed anything he had ever felt before. Hell, he was a walking contradiction

Only once had he felt something similar. Pain seared his head as he tried to recall the memory. Anger consumed him as he slammed his fist down on the chest of drawers.

Ella jumped awake.

Taking a deep breath, he went to the side of the bed. “I, ah, got this for you,” he said as he handed her the bag of goodies.

Her eyes searched his. “You got me McDonalds?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t know what you or your sisters liked, so I got everyone a little of everything.”

The bag crinkled as she took hold of it. “You gave my sisters a potion to help them heal and now you’re feeding us?”

“Don’t make more out of it than there is,” he snapped.

Her facial expression changed, into one of . . . disappointment?

Pain erupted in his chest. His body,
shiiittt
, his very thoughts challenged everything he thought he knew, but why?

Why had he let her visit her sister? Why had he given them comforts? Why had he roared at the demon for touching her? He didn’t understand any of the feelings fighting within him.

It was all because of her. He didn’t think he could stand to see her hurting over her sisters, so he did the best he could to make her sisters comfortable. As it was, if Zatar found out that he had showed the witches compassion, or that he was bringing them food, he would pay dearly. But he didn’t care. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t suppress his feeling of . . .

Hell, he didn’t even know. He was a demon who had done horrible things. He wasn’t the good guy.
Cold-hearted killer.
Yes, he couldn’t forget that.

Yet, when he was around Ella, he didn’t want to be a demon. He wanted to be . . . different. Be the man she deserved. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.
Bullshit, get it together.
He slid a chair out from his sorry excuse for a table, then sat.

He studied her. “Eat.” He didn’t have the appetite to, but she would enjoy it and damn him to hell, he wanted her company.

She took the food out of the bag, examining the contents.

“I’m sorry if it’s not what you like. I didn’t know what to get.”

“Since I’m a vegetarian, I guess I can eat this hash brown,” she said, reaching for a napkin.

“Shit, I should have asked, damn it,” he said, forming a fist and pounding it on the table.

She began to laugh, startling him. He had never heard her laugh. Warmth filled his chest for the second time since he been there with her. “What?”

“It’s just,” she continued to laugh, “I’m kidding.”

“Kidding?” He didn’t understand the meaning of the term.

She stopped laughing. “Kidding, meaning to make fun, a joke.”

“Oh, so you’re not a vegetarian?”

“No, I eat meat. I’m definitely not an all veggie eater,” she said.

“I, ah, I never had anyone ‘make fun’ with me before,” he said, then looked away from her intense gaze.

“I’m sorry.”

He felt a smile form on his face. “No, don’t be. I liked it. It was as you say ‘funny’ now that I think about it. I’m, ah, just not used to that.”

“Growing up with three sisters, you’d need to get used to it. My sisters and I are constantly making fun of each other.” She chuckled. “I can remember this one time when Cara was little and she—”

He was enjoying her smile until she stopped.

“What is it—”

Her sisters.

Ignoring his question, she turned her attention back to her food.

She wouldn’t look at him, leaving him to feel empty.
Pain . . . excruciating pain.
Suppress.
Seeing her like she was now made him realize something. She wasn’t whole without her sisters. He could imagine how alone and hollow she felt,
like he always did
. She sat there, stone-faced, while she slowly ate. Anger filled him.

He missed her laughter and smiles. That’s when it hit him, the question looming over him like a black cloud. What would he do to bring back her laughter? What depth would he go to, to bring her the joy she deserved?

He closed his eyes, knowing, absorbing the realization. Only one thing would bring her joy. Her sisters.
Impossible.
His thoughts were impossible. There had to be something else she cared about?

He felt agitated. He had to move. Standing, he paced in front of her.

“What are you doing?”

He could feel his blood settling into his fisted hands. Feel the rage pulsing through his veins. “Is there nothing else you care about?”

He wasn’t making any sense but she seemed to know what he was referring to. She stood, facing him with her pain.

“I love my sisters. Why can’t you understand that? Haven’t you ever had a family? Anyone you have ever cared about?”

No. YES.
Agony burned through his body. Worse than any torture he had ever received. Dropping to his knees, spider webs blurred his vision.
Don’t you dare pass out.
Another impact of pain shook him to his core but this time the darkness didn’t over take him. He was hit with visions. N
o, not visions . . .
memories.

Chapter 16

A dark cell surrounded him. He had refused to do what they had asked him and now they both were going to pay. They were coming, he felt their presence, knew what they were about to do. He reached for her, wanting to protect her from their wrath. It was his fault that they were here. He tried to plead with them, make them understand that it was him that needed to be punished, not her.

Without warning, they were upon them, charging her. He was powerless to stop them, powerless to save his own mother. He looked to her before they ascended on her. She was calm, a smile covering her face. She had never been afraid of him, had never treated him any different. To her, he was only her son. Holding out her hand, she called out to him, using the name she had always used when they were together. “Flynn!”

Her screams echoed in his mind, fading as a familiar voice over rode the gut-wrenching memory.

“Traxen, can you hear me? Traxen?” He opened his eyes and realized he was on the floor. His chair was tipped over, and kneeling beside him was Ella. “Are you okay?”

He sat up, reeling from the flashback. “Traxen?”

“Stop saying that,” he growled.

“Saying what? Your name?” Her brows drew together. “I don’t even know why I’m asking. I must be developing Stockholm Syndrome or something.”

He had long forgotten that horrifying memory of the night he had lost his humanity. That was why the king always had the demons kill their own mothers. Since the mothers were human, that meant the demon had to kill any humanity they had inherited from them.

Why did he remember this now when he was with Ella? He stood, then fell back into the chair. He needed a minute to sort through what had just happened. Was what he was feeling for Ella bringing his humanity back? It wasn’t possible, was it?

“Traxen, will you please tell me what the hell is going on? You just blacked out”

His temper spiked at hearing that name. Years he had spent working for the king, yet now looking back, he felt brainwashed by him, lied to.

“He changed my name,” he said, recalling the first few years that followed after that night.

“Who changed your name?”

Had he been talking out loud? He couldn’t look at her. But the need to voice his troubles to her was overwhelming. “The king changed my name, hoping to rid me of the memories of my mother. When demons are old enough, they are supposed to feed off the life energy of their mothers, but I . . . couldn’t. I wouldn’t. For years, they locked me in the same cell with her, hoping that the urge to feed would overtake me. Yet I refused, finding ways to control my hunger.”

“Oh god, that horrible—”

“Wait.” He held up his hand to silence her. “I need to get this out. We became close, my mother and I. I remember, she called me Flynn. That was the name she had given me at my birth. She was never afraid of me, my mother. She held me and comforted me, even offered her life to me on more than one occasion. Then one day they came.”

Silence stretched out between them. Quietly Ella waited as he gathered his thoughts.

“I knew they had come to do what I could not. They took her, killing her in front of me. I was overcome with grief, horrified when they turned their powers on me. Then before I knew what was happening, I was filled with a raging fire. I attacked them, brutally tearing them apart then feeding off their energy.”

He heard her gasp, knew that the story only confirmed to her what he was—a monster.

He stood, then turned from her, unable to see his past reflected in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Surprise filled him as he rotated back to her. She faced him, now seemingly unafraid of the monster before her.

“Ever since then . . .” He sighed. His voice became louder with every word. “I have done as I have been told. Killing and massacring, using my powers for evil, Ella.”

She shook her head. “No, you were manipulated into thinking that you had to do his bidding. You didn’t know you had a choice, but you do now, Flynn. You have a choice.”

He was stunned. She had used the name his mother had given him. He brought his hand to his chest as a warm feeling settled there. He shook the emotion away, taking a step toward her. “I’ve killed people, Ella. In fact, I have killed recently. A waitress that got in my way in my search for your sister. Don’t you see? I’m a cold-blooded monster!”

She took a step back at his words, and he growled deep in his throat. Was he getting through to her?

“I know you have done things but you don’t have to keep killing. You can change,” she said, standing with her shoulders back and her chin high in the air.

She still wasn’t afraid, just like his mother had been, and where that had gotten her? Dead. He wouldn’t let that happen to Ella, not this time.

“Flynn, please, you can change all this. Help me save my sisters and I will give myself to you, willingly.”

He averted his eyes. What she offered him now was what he had sought for weeks. Yet his gut wrenched at her words. He didn’t want her like this. He wanted her not as a prize to be bought or won, he wanted her willing of her own accord.

He wanted her to come to him for the mere fact that no one else would do. Wanted her to say she needed him. That she wanted him so badly she couldn’t stand another minute without him but more than anything he wanted to be worthy of her. Worthy of her praise but he knew it would be to no avail. What he wanted would never happen.

Impossible
.

“Why can’t you understand? The king would hunt your family for all time. What you offer will not save them.”

She ran to him, gripping his arm hard. “Please, I beg you. There has to be something that you can do. Help me save my sisters and kill the king.” She sobbed, tears streaming down her face.

Pain.

Her words tormented him. They were in deep, surrounded by a mass of powerful demons. Yet, there had to be a way.
Impossible.
The word continued to plague his thoughts. What the hell was he going to do?

Someone knocked on the door, startling Flynn. He heard Ella move back to the bed before he opened the door. Two demons stood outside. “Zatar wants to see you.”

Flynn nodded as he moved back to Ella’s side. He studied her but she looked at him with her big, sad green eyes as if to say ‘what now?’

He took a deep breath.

He didn’t know what to say, or do, for that matter. “I’ll be back,” he said as he willed himself to Zatar’s room. He knocked, then entered on his command.

Zatar sat in the ripped chair positioned at the head of his piece-of-shit desk. Flames raged in Zatar’s eyes. Flynn wasn’t the least bit afraid. He had seen the king’s rage on more than one occasion.

No. The fear started as the king stood and Flynn saw what he had in his hand. Between his fingers, he rolled a vial. Flynn’s gaze centered on the red liquid within, the red death. The king had tested the potion on other demons. Flynn was well aware of the effects.

Just one drop would burn an immortal from the inside out. A long, painful death would result. The king had specifically requested such a potion from the sorcerer. Zatar found excitement in watching his victims tortured.

Flynn’s stomach turned as he stared at the vial but he had to keep it together. “You wanted to see me?”

The king’s face scrunched into distaste as he gazed at Flynn’s human form. He set the vial down on the center of the desk. “Ah, yes, there is a matter I would like to discuss with you. Sit.”

“I prefer to stand.”

“I wasn’t asking you,” he grated, “but this shouldn’t take long, so do as you please.” The king moved around the desk to face him. “I have been hearing disturbing allegations of you and the witches,” Zatar whispered, moving closer to him with every breath. “You have been giving them comforts, spoiling them. I see that I was wrong to promise the one witch to you—”

“No, you weren’t wrong. I vowed to bring the sister witch to you, and that is exactly what I am going to do.” Flynn shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

Zatar pick up the vial of red death, turning it over in his palm. The red liquid sloshed back and forth. “Do you know what this is?”

Flynn learned a long time ago that fear was punishable by death. So without hesitation, he responded, “Of course, every Demon does. The Red Death.”

“Ah, yes, The Red Death, the only potion ever known to slowly kill an immortal. It would be a shame to use this on your witch after she goes through her transition—”

Traxen moved into a defensive stance, baring his teeth as a low growl filled the room. “You won’t touch her.”

Zatar laughed. “So, the reports are true. You have an unnatural affection for the witch.”

The king moved back behind his desk, sitting heavily in his chair. “I want that witch, Traxen.” His eyes narrowed to red slits, and his voice, though spoken in a normal tone, carried more than if he’d shouted. “You deliver that fucking witch to me or else your precious witches will never find out what it’s like to live an immortal life, understand?”

Rage pulsed through him. So much for keeping his cool. His instinct had taken over and there was little he could do about it now. Righting himself, he gave a quick nod.

“Oh, and if I hear from another demon that you’re making grand gestures to the witches, Ella will be tortured within an inch of her life! Now leave my sight.”

Flynn tried to keep the dark look from his eyes. He couldn’t risk Ella being punished for his mistakes. The stakes had just been raised, and he wasn’t taking any chances. There were spies everywhere. He would remember that from now on.

It took massive self-control to suppress the urge to roar in retaliation. He would have to think this through. There was too much to lose. If he turned rogue, it would be the last thing he ever did.

As he looked to the king, he bent at the waist, giving Zatar a full formal bow, then disappeared from the room.

Flynn blinked to his private corridors. Rage filled him as he recalled Zatar’s words. Hearing the king refer to him as Traxen, then threatening Ella’s life had pushed him to the brink. Punching the metal wall, he howled in frustration.

“Flynn? What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Nothing, go back to sleep,” he said roughly. She ran to him, gazing at him with her big green eyes, making him feel like a monster.

“Talk to me, Flynn.”

He turned from her, unable to look her in the eye. A plan was forming in his mind. He just didn’t know if it would save her.

“I have to go,” he said, then turned from her and grabbed his black leather trench coat from a chair.

“Wait! Where are you going?” She pleaded with him for answers he couldn’t give her. Every time he looked at her, he was putting her life in danger. The king had spies and they obviously had been telling him everything.

He couldn’t do it anymore. He had to finish what he started. “I’m going to get your sister.”

Pain creased her face. “But you said—”

“I said nothing! Understand that I’m a demon, Ella, a demon. What did you think, that I was on your side?” He laughed. “Silly little witch.”

Tears filled her eyes as his gut wrenched but there was no other way. This was the way it had to be.

Suddenly she lashed out at him, striking him across his face. “You bastard!”

“Guards,” he called. As they entered, her face paled. “Take her to the cage with the other witches. Make sure she stays there this time.”

Her eyes turned cold on him. He could see she loathed him to his core. He turned from her, unable to see the pain in her eyes, and blinked himself away, wishing he could do the same to her pain.

Ava crossed her arms and stared at Lucas. They had finally made it to the city and had made set up shop at one of New York’s most expensive hotels. Lucas said he wanted her to have the amenities she had been lacking for several days in the cabin. She could only assume he meant running water. Now he was telling her to stay in the room while he put himself in danger.

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not!” He glared at her with dark eyes.

“Lucas, what if you run into trouble? You’ll need me,” she said, reaching for his arm.

“Ava, I’m a grown ass lycan. I think I can take care of myself. It’s too dangerous for you. Just stay in the room and I will be back as soon as I can.”

He moved to the door, leaving her hanging. She raced after him, wanting to at least give him a proper good-bye.

He turned before he reached the door, giving her the opportunity to jump into his arms. He gripped her backside as she found his lips. She wanted to be close to him every second of the day. Even now his tongue sought out hers, making her long for more.

Breaking the kiss, he stared deep into her eyes. “If this is your way of making me stay, you are only delaying the inevitable. I still must go, Ava,” he said, intertwining his fingers in her hair.

She sighed. There was no arguing with him. This was the only way to find her sisters. “Fine, but if you come back sloshing drunk, I’m going to be really pissed off,” she hissed, letting her feet touch the floor.

“I’m not going to After Dark to get drunk, I’m going to find information on the whereabouts of the hive. You know that.”

She did, but she just hadn’t been separated from him since her sisters had gone missing, and it was a lot harder than she had anticipated.

“Just be careful,” she whispered as he took her in his arms.

He held her tight. “Don’t insult me with the suggestions that I’m not careful,” he said with a grin. “You know I’m always careful.”

She tried to smile at his words but couldn’t help the fear coursing through her veins. He was, after all, going to an immortals bar to scout information. Who knew what kind of powerful beings lingered there? There could be someone waiting for him, expecting their arrival; someone they would never see coming.