Coveted - Book 3 in the Gwen Sparks Series (2 page)

Aiden rubbed his chin. “Yes.” He exhaled in frustration, his eyes burning from the inside out. Those eyes once seared my flesh as they roamed over my body. Now they made me feel vulnerable.

“My Gwen,” Aiden said, stepping closer. The scent of soap and warm spices enveloped the air around me. “I’m not asking you to forget what I have done. I’m asking for us to move past it. Something like this will take time, I know, but we both live for a very long time.” He smiled but it was humorless. “I will spend eternity showing you how sorry I am if it means that one day you’ll accept me again.”

I held my head high, not bending under his stare, although I had no doubt he could hear the rapid slamming of my heart against my ribcage. My bravery, where Aiden was concerned, only ran skin deep. Inside was wreckage. But just like everything else, I could rebuild, even strengthen.

“I think space is best for now,” I told him. “I can’t be around you so soon, and pretend everything is normal.”

“That’s not—” Aiden began but I held up a hand to stop him.

“If you haven’t noticed my life is in a serious shit storm right now. We’re still dealing with Holly, and the vampires are in a frenzy to kill as many witches as they can before the protection spell is secured. I cannot add relationship drama into the mix. I know that sounds heartless, but that’s the truth of it.” I restrained a smile, happy my voice came out strong.

“I understand, and if I can help in anyway…”

“I think it’s best you stay away from witches, at least until the spell is back in place.” I paused, debating whether I should ask the question that’d been nagging me. I could let it go, move on... But, I needed to know.

“Why did you do it?”

“I was helping you track down Ian,” Aiden began and I shook my head.

“No, why did you keep drinking witches’ blood? Was it the addiction, or did you crave power like Ian?” It was almost unbearable to think Aiden and Ian could have something so ugly in common. Ian’s consumption of Brew stemmed from his need to obtain the magic within it, and he was very good at it. Then again, Holly—a NAWC council leader—was his teacher, and lover.

“Addiction, and nothing more. I am a vampire, and do not wish to be anything else.”

I nodded. “I’m sorry I got you wrapped up in this mess. If it hadn’t been for me, then you never would have tried Brew. I know our problems are partly my fault.”

Aiden reached his hands out, his fingers running up and down the length of my arms. I didn’t pull away. His fingertips were cool, a sign he hadn’t fed recently. I tried not to think about how he got his food. Aiden didn’t like drinking bagged blood; he preferred it straight from the source. Did that mean that now that we weren’t together his feedings would be more sexual? That he would be injecting the pheromone induced venom into his donor so they felt arousal? I reminded myself that it was none of my business anymore.

“I’m responsible for my own actions, my Gwen. I do not hold you accountable for my choices. Understand?”

I nodded.

“I will give you space,” Aiden continued. “That’s not to say that I’m giving up.”

“Aiden—”

“We have decades, centuries even. Don’t count me out so soon. I need to know the future holds a chance.” Aiden’s eyes held the question, eager for my answer.

“I don’t want to hang on if you’re letting go,” Aiden added.

Could I say without a doubt that I’d never give Aiden another chance? That I’d never be able to get over his misgivings and move on? No, I couldn’t. Part of me entertained the idea of the distant future holding something to look forward to. If I lived long enough that is. I imagined Aiden was battling some inner demons, a vampire’s midlife crisis of some sort. Maybe it was the reason he acted upon the temptation, maybe not. All I knew was that I couldn’t cut him out of my life completely. I knew without a doubt he loved me, and love is never perfect. Even fairytales have their problems.

 “Yes.” I spoke soft, hesitant to give him hope I wasn’t sure would be there come tomorrow. Not that I thought he’d be pining for me until we were together again.

“I love you, Aiden.” I paused when his eyes lit up, catching me off guard. “But the future I’m agreeing to is far away, understand?”

“Of course,” Aiden said. He tried sounding nonchalant but I detected a hint of disappointment. I hated how uncomfortable we were around each other when just a couple weeks ago we’d been sharing lingering looks and enjoying each other’s bodies. The world was a cruel, cruel place. Or maybe I was a glutton for punishment. I could end both of our suffering right here and now if I could just get passed his two indiscretions. It just wasn’t in my nature though. My mother use to tell me that my stubbornness was all my father’s fault. At the time I thought being hard headed meant I was difficult. Now I looked at it as a badge of honor to my character. It allowed me to stand up for myself, to not take the easiest road. If my parents did anything for me, it was giving me that trait. I’d need it more now than ever.

“Have you gotten news of Holly?” Aiden asked.

I appreciated the change of subject, even if it had to do with my potential death.

“The council has rescheduled the trial for another week,” I told him. Charles called me early Monday morning to tell me the news. It should have comforted me, but it had the opposite effect. The sooner Dorian and I told our side of the story—that Holly was the culprit in breaking the protection spell of our blood—the sooner I could stop looking over my shoulder.

“The reason for their delay?” Aiden tucked his hands in the pockets of his tailored pants. The movement caused his jacket to span open, revealing a tightly tucked in crimson dress shirt. The man knew how to rock a suit.

“They’re busy with the spell. That takes priority over a tiff between Holly and me,” I snorted, repeating the words Charles had used. “I agree with them though. Just in a week twenty-four witches have been murdered across the United States.”

It amazed me how the news spread so fast. What, did Holly and Ian send out a newsletter? Just thinking about those two caused pure rage to bubble up. Hate is a strong word, one I don’t use lightly, but I
hated
Holly and Ian. Aiden laughed, a deep rumbling in his chest. I looked back at him in confusion.

“I’m sorry,” Aiden began. “I find it funny that they’re fighting to restrain order yet keeping the one responsible from conviction.”

He had a point. “I suspect it’s because the one responsible is a member of the NAWC. If it were me, or any other witch, we’d be pushing up daisies by now.”

I frowned because it was very possible that my death was in the near future. If Holly was anything, it was ruthless. Her spot on the council was power, and she wasn’t about to give it up. I was the only thing separating her from keeping her place with the NAWC and staying out of the coffin. She had to know that the evidence against her was too strong. Not only was I witness to the entire thing, but I also had Dorian and Aiden. Not to mention, I could summon the spirits I’d used the night of the showdown, and order them to testify as well. I’d learned a lot of cool tricks while in Moon and I planned to use them to my advantage.

“You know if you need me all you have to do is say the word,” Aiden said. I must have looked overwhelmed because his tone was reassuring. I sent him a small smile, but made a mental note not to depend on him anymore. I couldn’t look to him for comfort or protection, not anymore. From now it was me, myself and I. My only option left was to be strong, and I was ready to test my strength.

On the drive back from Aiden’s house I thought about our relationship. Man, it sucked we found ourselves in the awkward place we now were. The temptation to forgive him was overwhelming. Everything within me still yearned for him, needed him. So why the hell wasn’t I turning my car around and heading back to his place for an epic make-up session? This is where the stubbornness would come into play. If I swept Aiden’s betrayal under the rug, then it was possible he’d deceive me again. He needed to know that I wouldn’t tolerate his lies, whether Brew was to blame or not. I learned people will treat me the way I allow them to. I had enough to worry about without wondering whether or not the man I loved was keeping secrets. So, because I’m hard-headed, we both had to suffer. And let’s not forget he killed a witch. Murder is a pretty serious offense in my book.

My heart was bruised, but I refused to cower under the pain. After a couple of pity parties I pulled on my big girl panties and decided to put on a brave face. It didn’t matter how strong the ache inside my chest was. I’d never show that pain to the world, especially when my life could be in danger.

Pulling into the small parking lot in front of my apartment building, I shut off my jeep and just sat. The apartment complex was one big rectangular building with windows running in twin rows horizontally. A rusted metal staircase led to the second floor where my place was. It was rather unspectacular in appearance. At twenty-six, this was not where I’d seen my life ending up. With Fiona in Moon, expanding her magic and love life, I never felt like more of a loser.

Big girl panties! No more pity parties, Gwen.

Tucking my depression back into the furthest corners of my mind, I exited my car. As I headed up the small concrete path, careful not to slip on the thin sheet of ice covering it, I sensed movement to my right. As I turned my head, a voice from my left called, scaring the bejeezus out of me and down I went. With a hard thump I landed on my behind, wincing as a string of colorful curses flitted through my tight lips. Wearing high-heeled boots in winter was tempting fate, especially since I was born with two left feet. I leaned forward so that I was on my hands and knees, carefully pulling my feet up under my body to stand. A deep masculine laugh taunted my ears and another string of colorful language was my response.

“A gentleman would help me up.”

“If one happens to come along, I’ll be sure to grab him,” Dorian responded.

I managed to stand, my legs wobbly like that time Bambi braved the frozen lake. If I recalled correctly, his friends laughed at his clumsiness too. My eyes instantly found Dorian and his amused grin.
Jerk.
He was leaning against the building, his arms crossed. Deciding not to chance the icy path again, I stepped onto the frost-covered grass. I’d definitely have a bruised bum come morning.

Ignoring Dorian, I made my way up the rickety stairwell. I only made it halfway before he stopped me.

“Did you forget about training?”

“No.” I continued up the stairs.

“Gwen, we had a deal,” Dorian reminded me. “I’m staying with you to teach you how to be a spirit walker. If you don’t take advantage of my teachings then you’re only hurting yourself.”

I paused, my hand gripping the cold steel of the railing. Looking over my shoulder I eyed Dorian at the bottom. Sometimes he could be a smartass, and other times he sounded like a teacher scolding a child. Since I’ve been taking care of myself since I was sixteen, it annoyed me to be treated as such. Still, I knew I needed to embrace my abilities and that meant dealing with the self-righteous angel of Death.

“Let me help sway your indecision.” Dorian climbed up the first few steps. “I’m teaching you hand-to-hand combat. I’ll be your punching bag tonight.”

Was it wrong that excitement was my first response? It’s not like I’m an aggressive woman but I could see the benefits of blowing off some pent up stress by taking my frustrations out on Dorian. As I rolled the idea around in my head, another thought popped into my head.

“Why do I need to learn hand-to-hand combat? As far I know ghosts can’t physically hurt me.”

“Not all of your enemies will always be in spirit form.”

Like I could forget— my days and nights seemed to slow to a crawl as I anticipated Holly’s strike. After a week of nothing happening I was starting to believe I was more paranoid than anything.

“Yeah, but I can use my magic to defend myself.” I shrugged. Dorian looked away, his hand going up to rub the back of his neck. He looked down at his booted feet, avoiding my waiting stare for as long as he could. He was hiding something. It couldn’t have been more obvious.

“What?” I prompted. “What is it now?”

Dorian looked up, the corners of his mouth turned down as he hesitated to speak. I arched my eyebrows at him in a “come-on-already” stare.

Dorian took a ragged breath, which meant I wouldn’t like what he was about to tell me. “You’re embracing the spirit walker side,” he began, and I waited for him to explain. “There are rules, Gwen. You can’t be both things—a regular witch and spirit walker. Once you pick a side, the other fades.”

“What?” I shrieked. Since I had been so busy with training with Dorian, I hadn’t used my other, normal witchy powers. Granted, I didn’t use them a lot anyway. I didn’t like to depend on magic for everything, but it came in handy if I needed to conjure an item in a snap or zap a threat.

“And you’re just now telling me this?”

“I knew what your reaction would be,” Dorian said. “And becoming a spirit walker is more important than being able to create clothes and do your makeup.”