Bewitched, Bothered, and Bitten (14 page)

It was the only path to victory. And retribution.

S
omehow, I managed
to doze off and on until dawn, despite my stress and the fact that I had lit both the lamps in the room. Sometime very early in the morning, I realized I would have to put aside my grief over Saundra’s death in order to do what must be done. There would be time for sadness after we were safe. I managed another hour or two of sleep before my eyes opened as the weak light of day leaked around the edges of the curtains.

I rolled over, pushing myself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. My body ached, likely from fatigue and stress. I dragged myself into the bathroom and took a hot shower. Once I was done scalding myself, I dried my hair, moisturized, and brushed my teeth. I didn’t bother with make-up. My curly hair was wild so I pulled it into a haphazard knot on the back of my head.

Since I doubted Finn would allow me to leave the house, I didn’t bother to dress in street clothes, just a pair of soft fleece pajama bottoms, t-shirt, and warm socks. I took a deep breath and left the bedroom, feeling determined, yet slightly hesitant. Finn had been so angry with me last night. Furious, in fact. I didn’t relish being on the receiving end of his ire. So much so, that I was tempted to tell him I would back off and let the vampires and werewolves do their thing. Now that I was thinking more clearly, I regretted my emotional outbursts. I had taken out my anger and pain on Finn and it shamed me.

Still, I hadn’t been wrong when I told him that they would need me. I
knew
in my bones that we would lose if I didn’t get involved. There was a reason why the prophecy said five and ten. My participation was necessary to our survival.

I padded down the stairs and into the kitchen, greeted by the smell of frying sausage and coffee. Once again, Finn was making breakfast, but, this time, he was wearing clothes. My eyes moved over him, taking in the navy Henley, the faded jeans that hugged his ass in all the right places, and the thick socks on his feet.

He glanced over his shoulder at me, his face impassive. “Good morning.”

Though I still felt ambivalent, I’d be damned if I let him see it. Finn had centuries to learn how to spot vulnerabilities and exploit them. “Good morning,” I murmured.

“Coffee mugs are in the cabinet right above the pot. Help yourself.” His tone was cool and distant. Apparently, he was still very unhappy with me.

“Thanks.”

I walked across the kitchen, pulled a mug out of the cabinet, and poured myself a cup of coffee. When I opened the fridge to get milk, I was surprised to find a container of pumpkin pie spice coffee creamer on the top shelf. I loved the stuff and always looked forward to fall because it would be available again. I also noticed that he’d stocked some of my other favorite foods.

Seeing evidence of his consideration weakened my resolve to remain cold toward him. I finished adding sugar and creamer to my coffee, putting everything neatly away afterwards.

After I took the first sip, I cleared my throat. “Finn, I just wanted-”

For the first time since I entered the kitchen, he turned and looked at me. My voice stopped working at the expression on his face. He wasn’t angry. If I didn’t think it was crazy, I would have thought he was ravaged by fear.

“Shut up, Kerry.”

My teeth clicked together and the cracks in my resolve began to heal and harden. I swallowed hard, fighting my initial angry response. Screaming out the words
fuck you
wouldn’t help our situation, and I’d likely regret it later. My temper was usually slow to boil over, but my nerves were raw.

He reached over and, in short, angry motions, turned off the stove before removing the pan from the burner. Then he placed the sausage on a plate and reached inside the oven and pulled out a huge plate of pancakes.

“Sit,” he barked, jerking his chin toward the kitchen table.

Even though my feet wanted to carry me straight out the kitchen door, then the front door, I went to the table and sat down, placing my coffee mug next to the plate already there. I realized that he’d even taken the time to set the table. Why did he have to be such a contradiction?

Finn put the plates down with a clatter before he went to refill his coffee mug and grab the warm maple syrup out of a small pan of water. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched him as he prowled through the kitchen. The indigo color of his shirt made his eyes seem more blue than purple and the predatory motions of his body seemed completely out of place in the homey room.

Finally, he sat in the chair across from me, plunking the syrup down next to the pancakes. Then he used his fork to put two pancakes and two sausage links on my plate.

“Eat.”

I leaned back in my chair, my arms still tightly wrapped around the front of my body. Our eyes met and I stared right back at him, even though it was likely a bad idea. Vampires were, in essence, extremely efficient predators. There were certain things you didn’t do to a carnivorous animal and the first was stare them in the eye, especially if they were agitated. Secondly, you didn’t run, which was the last thing on my mind.

At first he tensed, his body coiling as though he were preparing to pounce. Then he blinked, somehow controlling the instincts that wanted to take over.

Groaning, Finn scrubbed his hands over his face. I could hear the scratch of his stubble against his palms. “Okay, okay. What were you going to say?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter now,” I answered tightly. And it didn’t. No way in hell was I apologizing now. Maybe it was small and petty, but his attitude had killed any genuine regret I’d had about our fight last night. Did I hate that we argued? Absolutely. Did I want to continue that argument this morning when I got up? Yes and no. This wasn’t something I merely wanted to do, just to be contrary. This was something I
had
to do.

“Kerry.” He growled my name rather than speaking it.

“I was going to apologize for our argument last night,” I snapped, “but I’m honestly not sorry anymore.”

The black expression on his face began to clear and he stopped scowling at me. In fact, the corners of his mouth tilted up slightly as though he were fighting a smile. “Would it help if I told you I’m sorry we fought?” he asked.

I nodded. “Maybe a little.” I sipped my coffee. It was time to bite the bullet. I didn’t want to continue our argument, but we did need to finish the conversation. I wanted to at least try to bring him around before I went behind his back to the Council and the pack. I didn’t enjoy the thought that I would have to do something so sneaky and under-handed. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you and I understand why you are resisting this, Finn, but I think you know that I can’t get away from this situation, even if I want to. I’m already involved and I’m supposed to be involved. I think the prophecy proves that.”

He grunted. “I know.”

Since I had already been formulating a response to any and all possible arguments he might have, it took me a moment to realize what he just said. “What?”

He arched an eyebrow at me. “I know that you can’t be left out.” His shoulders slouched and he rested his elbows on the table. “I realized it when I was re-reading the prophecy for the tenth time at 3 a.m. this morning. That doesn’t mean I have to like it. Or even pretend to like it.”

Relief rushed through me. He understood and though he wanted to stop me, he wouldn’t. Finn reached across the table, placing his hand over mine.

“However, I don’t want you to get too cocky. If you let your guard down, even for a moment, you know that they will kill you, right?” he asked.

I nodded. “I know.” I did. Despite knowing that I was the more powerful of the two of us, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to best me with sheer cunning and madness.

“Are we done with this conversation?” he asked. “It’s ruining my appetite and probably yours and we both need fuel.”

Again, I nodded and focused on buttering my pancakes and pouring syrup. We ate in companionable silence, the only sounds were the light scraping of our forks on the plates and the wind outside the windows.

When we finished, we washed the dishes together as we had done the day before. It seemed like a week had passed rather than twenty-four hours. So many things had happened and someone I cared for had been lost.

After the last dish was dry, I refilled my coffee mug and Finn’s. “I hate to bring this up, but I will need to speak to Belinda today. I’d like to talk to Sally as well.”

Watching me over the rim of his mug, Finn sipped his coffee. “I know I can arrange a conversation with Belinda, but Sally may not be available. She probably has arrangements to make.”

He was right. I sighed. “I’d still at least like to call her and offer my condolences.”

Finn’s long fingers closed over my forearm. He slid his hand down my arm and laced our fingers together. I took the comfort he was offering. While I still resented his tendency to be high-handed, I appreciated his strength and his intuitive understanding of how my mind worked. Finn lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles.

I cleared my throat and took another sip of my coffee. “Well, I guess I’d better get started on research. I don’t know anything about the prophecy of the Five. I always assumed it was just a myth told to the children of the coven and thought it was boring, so I didn’t pay much attention. Now, I have to figure out what it means and what we should do.”

Finn squeezed my hand. “You will.
We
will, together.”

I rose up on my tiptoes and brushed my lips against his. “Thank you and I am sorry for the things I said to you last night,” I whispered into his mouth. When I rocked back, he blinked down at me, a surprised look on his face.

“That’s the first time you’ve kissed me without me having to talk you into it,” he murmured.

A strange feeling, almost a flutter, rippled over my skin and through my body. He was right. He usually instigated any sort of intimacy between us, even the casual touching of hands or a hug. I hated that I behaved in such a way to make him feel unwanted, but also marveled at the power I held over such a strong vampire, to surprise him with a simple kiss.

I lifted up on my toes again and kissed each of his cheeks gently. Then I rested my mouth against the base of his neck, right where his collarbones met. Finally, I mirrored his earlier action and lifted his hand to my mouth, placing another kiss on his knuckles.

A fine tension left his muscles, so minute I almost didn’t see the release, but I definitely felt it. Despite his confident demeanor, Finn still hadn’t been sure of me.

Looking into his beautiful amethyst eyes, I could no longer deny that the connection we shared was rare and precious. I’d never been the type of woman to scream or throw things when arguing with my lovers. When we were together, the emotions Finn evoked were sharper and clearer than any I’d ever experienced before. Everything I felt when I was with him, I felt it deeply, down to my very soul. If he wasn’t someone special, he wouldn’t induce such a strong response.

Somewhere in my chest, I felt something click into place, as though a missing part of my heart had finally been returned. For the first time since Finn began his pursuit, I considered letting myself be caught, despite the numerous reasons I shouldn’t.

A
fter our conversation
over breakfast, I was surprised when Finn showed me into a sunroom attached to the back of his home. I gaped as I took in all the herbs and plants any skilled witch would need in their garden. It was eerily similar to my own.

There was a table set up in the middle of the solarium and books were stacked on one side. I walked closer and realized that all the books on the table were mine. There was even a notebook and several pens and pencils. There was a potting bench against the back wall with a large hutch above it. It contained not only gardening tools, but glass jars for potions and dried herbs, empty amulets, a crock full of wooden utensils, and bundles of herbs tied together with twine that were hung to dry. Beneath the bench sat planting pots, copper cooking pots, and several different sizes of mortars and pestles. Next to the potting bench was a small gas stove. Though it was antique, the appliance was in pristine condition and sparkled.