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Shattered Promises

Page 28

   



“Why not?”
“I’ll explain why in the car.” There’s a silent cautioning in his eyes, so I zip my lips and shuffle closer to him as I’m elbowed in the back and the side. It’s overwhelming; too many people and too many sexy moves going on. I’m struggling to remain collected.
Luckily, the song switches to a slower, more sensual beat and everyone mellows to grind against each other. I’m not sure what to do or why we are out here, but Alex takes the lead. He puts his hand on my hip and lures me to him with his eyes on me. He slides his hand slowly up my side, along my ribs and to my shoulders where it starts to drift downward. His skin is searing hot against my arm and when he arrives at my wrist I practically die from the heat. He grips my wrist forcefully; pressing his fingers into my skin, then lifts my arm up and positions my hand on top of his shoulder.
My body is very much alive, awake and in tune when he does the same thing with my other arm. I can’t hold back the moan of pleasure clawing up my throat. I let it out because there’s nothing else to do.
The muscles in his jaw twitches as he places his hands on my hips and entices me toward him until our bodies are connected. He begins swaying us to the music and rubbing against me with each movement. His green eyes are black below the inadequate lighting and his lips are blood red. He inches his mouth toward my ear and breathes against my skin. “The bartender was on to you. I had to find a way to get you out of there.”
“By kissing me?” I ask, breathless.
His fingertips knead my hips. “That was to get you to stop choking.” He pulls back a little. “And the dancing is to get you into the crowd and away from wandering eyes. You stand out way too much.”
I glance at the blond girl with fangs and she’s nipping at pointy-eared guy’s neck. He lets out a groan similar to the one I let out just seconds ago. “I think I blend in pretty well,” I say.
His brow teases upward. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” I slip my hands farther up his shoulders and down to his back. When my palms are covering his shoulder blades, I dig my nails in and pull him closer. “In fact, I think I have this whole Angel thing down pretty well.”
He shakes his head, grinning haughtily. “You’d be screwed if I wasn’t here to guide you through.”
“If you weren’t here, then I wouldn’t be here.” My head is getting hazy and uncensored words are slipping out of my mouth.
He frowns. “I know that.”
He grows quiet, takes a step back to add room between us, and his attention leaves me as his eyes drift to the stairway. It bugs me because I want them on me. I want him to look at me. Touch me. Be only about me. I’m becoming very needy and the feeling consumes me.
I hook a finger underneath his chin and make him look at me. “I thought you brought me out here to dance?”
His eyebrows dip together. “No, I brought you out here to keep you hidden and to keep an eye on the stairway.”
I shake my head and scratch him with my nails as I draw my hand away. “I want to dance, just like everyone else.”
His eyes go squinty as he scrutinizes my facial features and eyes. “Are you drunk?”
I shake my head with sureness even though I have no idea what being drunk feels like. “No, I’m perfectly sober.”
“Good because you only had one shot.”
“Obviously.”
He shakes his head and I clamp down on his shoulders and force him to diminish the space he’s put between us. His eyes enlarge and his lips part in shock. Without another thought, I bend my head forward and collide our lips. The music is loud and drenches my body in lyrics as I bask in the taste of him. My head spins with vapor as I suck his lip into my mouth. He groans loudly, and I bite down on his lip and let my hands trail down his back with my nails aiming downward so I’m gently scratching his skin.
“Gemma,” he murmurs as his hand moves from my hip to my back, then creeps downward. He cups my ass and crushes my body against his. I’m drowning in blackness and he is my air.
I seal our lips together and his tongue willingly slips into mine. I feel his breath enter my mouth and the compulsion for more takes over me. My hands glide up his back and I fasten my arms around his neck. I taste him thoroughly as I stand on my tiptoes and climb on top of him. His breath hitches in his throat as I hook my legs around his midsection, allowing his hardness to press against me. It’s stimulating and makes my body crave more, so I cling onto him and writhe my hips up and down, rubbing up against him.
A deep, throaty groan escapes from him and he reciprocates by pushing his body closer to mine. His hand slip between my legs and his eyes are shut, but mine refuse to close. I can see everything. Feel everything. I’m high. I’m centered. I’m in control.
People are dancing recklessly and it’s like we’re in a movie that’s stuck on fast forward; none of it can be real. Alex is kissing me, feeling me, touching me and making me feel like I’ve been starved. My arms begin to tremble and when I glance down at them, my skin is covered in black veins like tar has replaced my blood. The veins are crawling across my skin and I start to scream. I’m falling. Floating. What am I doing?
Alex jerks back and his lips are moving, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. I unhitch my jaw to speak, but my voice is noiseless. My eyes roll into the back of my head and my limbs go limp. I begin to sink to the ground and I’m not sure how far down it is before I hit.
Or, if I’ll ever hit anything.
Maybe I just fall and fall and fall.
Chapter 13
I’m drowning in a black ocean and the clouds above rain ash. The water is hot and my skin is covered in blisters. It’s burning me alive and filling my lungs with venom. I’m dying. I’m…
“Can you hear me?” Alex’s voice floats through my dream of death.
My eyes roll into the back of my head as my eyelashes flutter open. My head is resting on Alex’s lap and the streetlights outside highlight the concern on his face. He has a bite mark just below his lip and long red marks on his neck.
“Where am I?” My voice is hoarse.
He lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
“Is she going to be okay?” Aislin asks.
I realize we’re in the backseat of the GTO and that she is in the passenger seat. There’s a scratch on her forehead, two holes in her neck and her hair has fallen out of the pins.
“Why do you have bite marks on your neck? And why does Alex have those red lines on his?” I begin to sit up and my brain throbs against my skull. I press the heel of my hand to my forehead and wince. “Ow.”
“Lie back down,” Alex insists and guides me back down onto his lap. “Don’t try to sit up until we know you’re okay.”
“What happened?” I ask, situating my head into his lap. “And where’s Laylen?”
“Laylen went into the Wicca shop to check things out before we all go in.” He brushes my hair away from my forehead. “And what happened is someone slipped you a sensualis augendae.”
“What the hell is that?” My voice cracks. “A date rape drug?”
He shakes his head and then hesitates. “Not a drug, but a spell.”
“So someone put a date rape spell on me? I bet it was the bartender.”
“It could have been a lot of people. There was too much attention on you and… well, like I said, you radiate innocence. I should have never brought you in there.”
“How did you get me out?”
“Carried you… Can’t you remember? You put up quite a fight.”
My eyes enlarge as my mind sifts through the cloudy images of what happened. I’d been all over him, practically attacked him. “I scratched your neck, didn’t I?”
He covers the lines with his hand. “Yeah, but don’t worry about it.”
“I’m so sorry.” I reach out to touch his neck.
He lowers his hand and lets my fingers graze the lines. “I said, don’t worry about it. Trust me. It wasn’t bad.” The look in his eyes and the huskiness of his voice makes me wonder if he thinks it was good.
I fix my attention to Aislin and the holes in her neck. There’s dried blood around each one and the skin has a ring of red around it. “Did you get bitten?’
She sighs deeply. “Yeah, we ended up running into Draven. Luckily, it was after I made the sword invisible with a charm, but, still, there are consequences for me being up there.”
“Because you’re human?”
“Because I’m a Keeper.”
“Oh… So he bit you as a punishment?” I summon my energy and drag my body upright, sliding my feet off the seat and onto the floor. I feel like it’s partially my fault for not being able to play a good Black Angel and getting poisoned. “Aislin, I’m so sorry.”
She covers her mouth and clears her throat, squirming uncomfortably. “It’s okay. It wasn’t that bad.”
I glance back and forth between Alex and Aislin; finally Alex explains, “Vampire bites are intoxicating to mortals. The only punishment from a bite is that you’ll want more.”
My mouth forms an ’o.’ Aislin nods, then faces the front of the cab and stares at the small, brick building with a crescent moon outlined by a black star painted on the window. I notice that there is the same mark on the back of Aislin’s shoulder.
“What is that on your shoulder?” I ask. “A tattoo, or a mark, like Laylen’s?”
“It’s doesn’t represent the same thing as Laylen’s.” She sketches the outline of the tattoo with her finger. “But it is a mark—the witch’s mark. After I became a witch, it appeared there.” She lifts her foot onto the console and flips the ceiling light on. On her ankle there is a ring of golden flames that trims a black circle. “And this one appeared because I have Keeper blood inside me.”
“And they just all of a sudden show up?” I ask, gripping my head. “Out of the blue?”
“My Keeper’s mark appeared when I was about twelve, which was also about the same time I really started learning about what it means to be a Keeper.” Aislin returns her foot to the floor. “And my witch’s mark showed up when I was about fifteen, which was when I first found out I possess Wicca magic.”
“So everyone has their own mark?”
“Oh yeah, there are a ton of them. One for vampires, pixies, fey, Foreseers…” She trails off as she takes in the shocked look on my face. “Oh, yeah, I guess I should have started out by explaining that, yes, those things do exist.”
I nod as I lower my hand from my head. “I just didn’t realize how true it all is.”
Alex leans forward to capture my gaze. “How true what is?”
I turn to face him. “Everything I’ve read. I thought all of the creatures were just made up.”
His lips tug up into a small smile. “Books are like a gateway to real life.”
“I guess so.” I bend my neck and rest my head on the back of the seat. “So how many marks do you have?”