Forevermore Page 15

  Then it hit me. I stiffened and looked up, as though I could see through the ceiling and second floor into the attic. “Oh, shit,” I whispered.

  “What is it?” Kerry asked.

  “The book,” I murmured. “I have to check the book.” I met Rhys’ eyes. “Gaius’ grimoire. I have it.”

  Actually, I hoped I had it. If Rhiannon had been after what I thought she was, it could well be gone.

  I set my cup to the side and whispered the spell that would transport me into the secret room in my attic. It wasn’t actually part of the house, more like a pocket of space and magic. The physical entrance to the room was in the attic, but I could transport directly there from any part of my property, even the yard.

  I saw Macgrath’s furious expression for a split second before I vanished and appeared inside the room where I kept my spellbooks, journals, herbs, and other supplies. Even inside this room, I’d placed a protection spell on the grimoire, especially after I understood what it was. I hadn’t realized it had once belonged to Gaius, the warlock who created Rhys, until my first run-in with Rhiannon a few months ago.

  When I had, I began storing it in the witch’s equivalent of a safe. Only my particular brand of magic could open it, almost like a retinal scanner. Or DNA. It would require a tremendous amount of power and a lot of time to break into it.

  I walked to the cabinet against the wall and opened the doors. Working quickly, I moved jars and bottles of herbs and tinctures out of the way and pressed my palm to the back.

  Just as this room existed separately from my home, yet within its walls, my magical safe was the same. The opening to the safe was physically located at the back of this cabinet.

  I was about to utter the words to disengage the lock when I hesitated. If Rhiannon had managed to gain access to the safe, she could also have laid a trap for me. I might be confident in my abilities but I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t willing to risk my life or the lives of the people waiting for me downstairs.

  Working quickly, I cast a protection circle. Actually more of a sphere. True circles created a sphere, the bottom portion below the surface where the circle was marked, and the top portion shielding the upper half.

  If nasty, dark magic waited for me inside that safe, it would not make it out of the circle. I laid my palm against the wood once again and murmured the words. The door to the safe popped open, but nothing happened.

  I waited for a few moments. I wanted to be sure. There was nothing there. No residue of Rhiannon’s power. Nothing.

  The book was also gone.

  Carefully, I went through the contents, just to be sure, but it was gone. And it was the only thing missing.

  With a sigh, I stepped back and locked the safe once again, wondering how in the hell she had gotten through my spells and all the protection I placed on my home. She shouldn’t have been able to.

  Our fight a few months ago had weakened her considerably. Though she would have regained some of her strength, even at full power, she shouldn’t have been able to do this.

  I could vaguely hear Macgrath’s angry voice on the other side of the attic door, but I ignored it. I had to know how she did it.

  I moved to the corner of the room and invoked a spell I used when Macgrath kidnapped Savannah a few months ago. It would show me what happened in the room in my absence.

  I’d been in the safe for another item the day before yesterday and the book had been there, so she must have come sometime in the last forty-eight hours. I sped the spell through the first few hours, believing she would have waited until after the explosion to come. It had been her diversion and we’d all fallen for it.

  Sure enough, as time passed on fast forward, I saw something shimmering in the air. I stopped the spell, backing it up a bit and letting it move forward in normal time.

  I watched as a barely visible cloud coalesced in the center of the room. It never fully formed as it undulated in slow, rolling waves. Then it moved to the cabinet and disappeared inside.

  A few moments later, it emerged, the book caught in its shadowy form. Even the book was nearly transparent and moved through the wooden doors with ease.

  Whatever this was, it was magic like I’d never seen before. And it scared the shit out of me because it meant that the protection spells I’d cast not only on my home, but Savannah’s house and the coffee shop, were useless against it.

  I reached out with my power, feeling the residue of Rhiannon’s magic that had been left behind and felt my breath catch in my chest. It felt like my magic but slightly different. Like an echo that had been recorded. It was so similar but softer.

  Something heavy hit the door that led from the metaphysical room into my actual attic and I realized that Macgrath was trying to break it down.

  Sighing, I moved toward it and yanked it open, stepping aside a split second before Macgrath careened inside.

  “Ava,” he growled. “What the fuck? Why did you lock us out? What in the hell have you been doing?”

  I lifted a hand. “Please stop barking questions at me. You’re not a dog.”

  His eyes flared into emerald and gold flames. “What did you just say?” he whispered. It was practically a hiss and it was sinister.

  Some of my irritation flagged when I realized that his anger was fueled by his fear. And he was afraid. I could see it in the tightness of his facial muscles and the tension in his body. He was probably flooded with adrenaline.

  “I’m sorry,” I stated. His body remained rigid, so I repeated myself. “I’m sorry. When I realized why Rhiannon attacked the shop as she did and why she would stay in the house across the street, I reacted. I didn’t mean to worry you. I only wanted to check my safe and see if she managed to get the book.”

  “What book?” Macgrath asked. He was somewhat calmer, but his hands were still fisted.

  “Gaius’ grimoire,” I repeated. “The warlock who made Rhys, I had a copy of his grimoire. Or at least a partial copy. I didn’t realize what it was until Rhys explained the whole story of his creation to us a few months ago. When I did, I locked it up in my safe and left it there.”

  Macgrath’s face darkened and he stared at me as though I’d lost my mind. “You kept it?”

  “Of course,” I replied, frowning at him. “If Rhiannon was ever able to create another being like Rhys and she consumed its power, I would need the knowledge to combat that.”

  His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly but Macgrath still appeared enraged.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.

  It was my turn to look at him like he was a few bricks shy of a full load. “Because I wasn’t sure I could trust you with that information.”

  “Fuck,” he hissed, turning his back to me as he tore his hands through his short hair. I wasn’t sure if his anger was with me or himself.

  For a dizzying moment, I had a flash of him repeating that action, only his hair was much longer and his clothing was rough and old-fashioned. The two images merged and I could have sworn the earth tilted. I felt completely off balance and a ferocious headache seized my temples.

  “Ah!” I cried out, lifting my hands to clutch my head.

  Instantly, Macgrath’s anger vanished. He spun around and lunged forward, catching me before I could hit the hardwood floor on my knees.

  “What is it?” he asked, his voice gentle and full of concern. “Ava, tell me what to do.” He lifted me fully, one arm behind my back and the other beneath my knees.

  I couldn’t answer him because I was too busy trying not to puke on his chest. I curled up into a ball, moaning as the piercing pain twisted viciously in my head.

  “Carry her to her room,” a voice commanded from the doorway.

  It took me a moment to think past the agony and recognize Kerry’s voice.

  “What’s happening?” Macgrath demanded. “Did Rhiannon cast a spell on her?”

  I couldn’t look up. I feared that if I opened my eyes the dim sunlight filtering through the attic would blind m
e. Whatever Kerry’s response was, it wasn’t verbal.

  “Then what?”

  “The curse was cast a very long time ago,” Kerry answered. “Her power is fighting it, trying to protect her. Over centuries, the curse has weakened, but it still has a hold on her mind.” She paused. “Carry her to her room. I can help ease her pain.”

  “Can you break the curse?” Macgrath asked as he walked forward.

  I sucked in a sharp breath as each step jostled me, causing white-hot spikes of agony to shoot through my entire body. Macgrath’s stride smoothed until he seemed to be floating and I relaxed into him a bit more.

  I let myself focus on the warmth of his chest against my side, the mixture of scents created by his skin, soap, and leather jacket, and the steady thump of his heart against my ear. By centering my attention on the external, I was able to suppress the pain just enough to prevent the vile nausea in my stomach from becoming worse.

  A few moments later, he stopped walking and slowly lowered me onto a mattress. I knew immediately that I was in my room. I turned on to my side and brought my knees into my chest.

  “I’ll be right back,” Kerry muttered. “I need a few things from the kitchen.”

  “Hurry,” Macgrath urged, but his tone wasn’t angry any longer. Instead he sounded terrified.

  He didn’t speak, likely realizing the sound would make the pounding in my skull worse, but he did sit on the bed next to me. Then he did something else that shocked me, even through the haze of pain.

  The large vampire curled his long body around me, fitting his hips against mine and curving his chest against my back. Gently, he pressed a light kiss to my temple before he settled his head onto the pillow behind me.

  Strangely, the gesture seemed to lessen the agony somewhat. Just enough that I could think.

  We lay in silence, waiting for Kerry to return. I could have asked him to go back into the attic and grab a healing tonic out of the cabinet, but I didn’t. I didn’t want him to move. The heat of his body soaking into me, easing me even more.

  As I let my body melt, I noticed that his chest expanded in unison with mine. He was matching his breaths with mine and then taking slower, deeper inhalations and releasing them gradually. It was a relaxation technique I often used to control my temper and my magic, but it surprised me that he was so attuned to me.

  “Okay,” Kerry murmured as she returned to the room. “I made you an herbal tea of my own concoction. Once you drink it, the pain should leave. If it doesn’t, we’ll try a spell, okay?”

  I opened my eyes and slowly lifted up onto my elbow. Before I could heave myself into a sitting position, Macgrath was there, pulling me back so that I was half-reclined with my shoulders against his chest.

  Kerry sat on the other side of my bed and lifted the cup to my lips. I let her tend to me, not trusting my shaky hands.

  The tea was actually pleasant and tasted floral. While I recognized several of the flavors, there were a few that I couldn’t place, which was odd. I frowned at her as I sipped.

  “What is it?” she asked, taking the cup away from my lips so I could answer.

  “What’s in this tea?”

  Her face fell. “I wouldn’t harm you, Ava,” she began.

  I lifted a hand and patted her leg. “That’s not what I mean. I can’t place a few of the herbs I’m tasting and I’m curious.” I didn’t mention that it had been several centuries since a potion or tea had stumped me. I had hundreds, if not thousands, of potion, tincture, and tea recipes in my head. This one was new.

  “Oh,” she replied, her cheeks flushing. “I’ll write it down for you,” she offered.

  “Thank you,” I said, bringing my hand up to hers and urging the cup back to my mouth. I wanted to finish the tea as quickly as possible so the headache would begin to fade.

  I swallowed the rest of the hot brew within a few minutes and relaxed back into Macgrath. Already I could feel the pain receding and a delicious lassitude sweeping through my body. I wasn’t tired exactly, more like exceedingly content. In fact, I felt like I was floating.

  My body felt boneless as I leaned against Macgrath and my head fell back onto his shoulder. My eyes closed and I sighed when his fingers combed through my hair in slow, even strokes. The gentle, rhythmic tugging chased away the last of the pain.

  My head still felt hollow and tender, as though I’d injured myself and I was still healing, but I was no longer in agony.

  “Thank you,” I repeated to Kerry.

  “You’re welcome,” she answered. “Sleep now. We’ll talk when you wake up.”

  I nodded briefly, sinking deeper into Macgrath’s embrace and letting the soft brush of his hand in my hair lull me to sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Macgrath

  When I was certain that Ava was asleep, I gently moved her weight off of me and climbed off the bed. I grabbed a blanket from the back of a chair by the window and covered her with it.

  I stared down at her, studying the serene lines of her profile as she slept. With a whisper soft touch, I gathered her hair and pulled it back away from her face and neck. I loved her hair. It often looked like molten gold when she stood in direct sunlight, as though the fire of her spirit had to escape the confines of her body. But the strands were sleek, soft, and warm.

  Satisfied she would remain asleep for a while, I exited the bedroom and left the door open so I could hear her if she made a sound.

  The image of her clutching her head and falling to her knees would haunt me for a long time. Maybe even the rest of my life.

  I walked downstairs and found Kerry waiting at the base of the steps, an unreadable expression on her face. I stopped on the last tread and waited.

  When Kerry spoke, I sensed that she was choosing her words carefully. “How long have you and Ava had a…” she trailed off, clearly unsure how to continue. Finally, she firmed her lips and asked, “relationship?”

  My brows arched at her audacity. “I don’t believe that’s your business.”

  She laughed briefly. “No, it’s really not. I just ask because you might be able to—” She paused again before sighing heavily. “To help her.”

  “What exactly is wrong with her?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the wall to my left.

  “A very long time ago, she was cursed.” She studied me closely. “Her curse was similar to yours, in fact,” she continued.

  I nodded. “I’m aware that she doesn’t remember anything about her life before she woke up one morning two thousand years ago.”

  “Just like you, right?” Kerry prompted.

  I bit back a growl. How did this witch know so much about me? Briefly, I wondered if Savannah shared the information with her, but doubted it. Savannah knew how to keep secrets, as did Rhys. Neither of them would have betrayed my trust like that, though I didn’t deserve their discretion.

  “Are you psychic?” I asked her suddenly.

  She shook her head. “Not exactly. But I am in a unique position because I know things about her past. I want to help her, but I also don’t want to risk interfering with the natural order of her life.”

  I scowled at her. “Fuck the natural order. If you know something, you should tell her. You can’t possibly comprehend what hell it is, this not knowing who you are. Where you come from. She could have descendants. A mate.” My chest burned as I said the last word.

  If Ava had a mate, I wasn’t sure how I would stop myself from destroying him. A wave of possessive rage filled me, without logic or compassion. My instincts screamed that she belonged to me. She was mine.

  Kerry studied me, sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sorry you’ve had to endure that, Macgrath,” she said sincerely. “But if I try to tell her what I know before the curse has weakened, it could cause irrevocable harm. I can’t risk it. You saw what happened today. If I thrust that knowledge on her, it would be worse. Much worse.”

  I wanted to rage at her. To argue with her, but I couldn’t. I nev
er wanted to see Ava in that sort of agony again.

  Kerry’s eyes were shining with understanding and compassion as she slowly approached me and laid a hand on my arm. “I wish I could, Macgrath. I wish I could tell her everything. That I could give you back your memories. You’ve both suffered for far too long and you deserve to know. But I can’t.”

  I relented, letting my arms drop to my side. “I understand, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

  She smiled. “That makes two of us.” She stepped back. “Now, Savannah said something about making an early lunch. I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

  I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that I’d been upstairs for longer than I realized. It was after ten now. I followed her into the kitchen. Savannah looked up from where she was stirring something on the stove and her expression said she wanted to give me a hug. Instead, she just waved. Finn nodded to me and Rhys glared. Like Ava, it was improbable that he would forgive me for taking Savannah all those months ago.

  Any time I saw the male, he stared at me as though he were trying to figure out the easiest way to murder me and dispose of my body without Savannah’s knowledge. I was nearly certain that only Savannah’s attitude and affection for me prevented me from disappearing one night, never to be seen again.

  “How’s Ava?” Savannah asked, her expression worried.

  “Sleeping,” I answered, “But no longer in pain.”

  She visibly relaxed. “Good. Good. That’s good.”

  I felt the corner of my mouth tick up in a half smile. Savannah was cute as hell and she didn’t even realize it. It was part of the reason I’d recognized I needed to cut ties with Rhiannon. She’d somehow reminded me that there were some things in this world worth more than my past and my retribution.

  We ate the stir-fry Savannah cooked in near silence. Kerry and Finn asked questions and carried the conversation for a while, but my mind was upstairs with Ava and Rhys was too busy glowering at me to speak much.