Exaltation (11 page)

The emotion was pure, unprovoked, felt only for joy.

Before he could question why her lips were on his, which only made him draw a deeper breath, feel the high all the more, he felt the rush instantly—pure bliss.

Vim, energy, Rydell was
very
aware of it at all times. He felt hers vim pulling from him, yet it wasn’t. It was as if there was this unseen silk barrier between them—a division he wanted beyond.

One hand reached for her waist, the other to cradle her face, when he felt her vim easing her back, he turned her against the wall. Nothing short of an atomic bomb would be strong enough to force them apart.

His lips feasted on hers, his tongue intertwining, drawing in subtle breaths each time he could. His fingertips filtered through the long locks of her hair…again it felt like silk, as if there was some barrier between them. He could feel her, but not really...pressed against ecstasy but couldn’t reach it.

His hand slowly fell, gliding past her shoulder, carefully down the side of her chest.
So responsive.
Finally reaching her hips he pulled her closer to him, forgetting where he was, what he was doing.

Right now all he cared to know was why this felt majestic…forbidden.

She raised up, deepened the kiss even further, nearly robbing his breath, then pulled away.

Her eyes flicked over him.
He tasted like sin, pure sin.
Every warning bell in Raven’s soul was going off.

REGRETTABLE.

“Next time
ask
me before you smell my hair.”

And with that Raven skated away feeling like a fool for listening to River…she feared she’d just woken a sleeping lion.
Not just a kiss
.

Chapter Ten

Jamison’s life was in effect sectioned off. He had his mortal side, the one that managed all of the businesses he owned in the city, more so in the Quarter itself. He had his coven, which was a mix of those who were all in, immortals who were downright fierce when crossed, and he had those who kept the peace and practiced the simplest of magic, and only did so to protect their home. Then he had his family, which was intricate to say the least.

After he dropped Raven off that afternoon, he’d gone back to the school, manifested into the records department, and confirmed his fears: two boys were also new that year, in Duncan’s class. One was Rydell King, known as King to his people.

Out of curiosity, Jamison made his way to the Beauregard Boneyard. It was a Boneyard for old motorcycles. There was also a garage that repaired and made bikes. Mostly it was a Club, one where the Pentacle Sons, a paranormal biker gang lurked.

They were not paranormal because they were witches, but more so a mix of all mythical creatures man has feared over time. Each were created by Reveca.

Reveca was a stubborn, fierce woman Jamison had always adored. She was an original; she was gifted and powerful, and needed by countless souls.

Jamison blamed himself for the way she was today. He always thought he could have done something to stop Revelin from taking her lover so long ago. Even though Saige and others had told him he couldn’t have, that fate had its say.

Losing her lover was hell on Reveca. Ages later she still wasn’t over it even though she had a new lover, one that had been at her side for some time. Even though they had a family of bikers they fiercely fought with, Jamison always saw pain in Reveca’s fierce gaze.

Jamison’s visit there was exploratory. He wanted to see if Reveca had sensed her first love close, if perhaps there was some way she could awaken him, stop all of this.

Speaking with her, seeing her engaged in both mortal and immortal wars, high on the rush of power told him that just like he feared, she was as blind to Rydell as he was to her.

He spoke to Saige once he left Reveca. The seers of the coven had yet to find a way around the fate before Raven…she was going to have to destroy anyone in her path to accession; Rydell King was in said path.

Jamison didn’t trust that Rydell’s fall would not hurt Reveca in some way, then Saige, that his destruction would not bring down the coven as well.

On top of all of the issues Jamison was dealing with, he could not stop thinking about what Raven had said at their lunch. How upset River was about not knowing who her father was, that she’d asked Emery.

Two things stood between Jamison and Emery. Anger and guilt. He felt guilty for bringing her into this, for ensuring the family she wanted would always be a breath away from danger, would become warriors, legends. Jamison could only assume what Emery’s anger was about because the woman rarely raised her voice, embraced emotion.

She had always strived to be independent, and now she couldn’t be. She needed him to protect their girls, understand the power they would have and how to manage it.

Jamison had given her all the space she needed, granted every wish. At first the space built passion between them, and honestly when she was passionate was the only time he saw the real her—all walls down.

He’d always feared they were avoiding who they were, were letting too much time pass.

Today he was sure of that. Just the idea of River being upset destroyed him. She shouldn’t feel that way. She should know who her father is; even though her conception was not traditional it was still beautiful and guided by fate. She should know her father loves her. River knew Raven’s dad Jamison loved her, but she had no idea she was his, too. That cut Jamison wide open.

Jamison knew if he went to Emery’s they would fight. He didn’t want to fight with her when they had all this added risk lurking. But when he couldn’t stand it anymore he decided that way of thinking was exactly what landed him where he was—divided from his woman, his family.

He could smell the bleach in the air before he ever reached the back stoop, before he opened the door then closed it again. Witches were clean in general, liked to cleanse their homes often, but when Emery was worried or mad she cleaned constantly, obsessively.

When he stepped in the kitchen the first thing he saw were her bare thighs. She was in cotton shorts, on her knees bent forward cleaning out a cabinet under the kitchen counter.

She stopped almost instantly. He saw her hesitate before she fell back on her legs and glanced over her shoulder. Her hair was in a messy bun, and ringlets of curls were brushing against her long neck. The tank she had on was one of his undershirts.

Jamison bit his lip as his eyes moved down her nice and slow. His immortal status, ages of lifetimes, gave him enhanced senses. Right now he sensed her want, her worry, and her anger, each matching his own emotions.

Emery stood slowly. “I thought you were at work.”

Their nights together were rare, even though the girls were teens, young women. Emery still kept the same boundaries in line, them not spending the night with each other. Stolen evenings were hard to come by, too. The girls rarely went out during the week, and on the weekends for the most part Jamison’s business needed his attention.

The way Emery came to him varied over the years. The first two they shared a bed. That stopped when Emery got it in her head the coven would see their love affair as torrid, know the Rapture was coming.

After that, she’d show up on her way home from teaching a few times a week. Sunday afternoons, before all their friends from the coven gathered, they had time together, too. That’s when they were alone. The rest of the time they were ‘friends’ in front of the girls.

It wasn’t enough for Jamison.

“I had to check on something,” Jamison said in a gruff voice as he pulled his suit jacket off, then loosened his tie.

Emery blushed, turning that shade of scarlet of hers he adored.

“I talked to the girls,” Emery said as she broke her stare with him and started to put away all her cleaning supplies.

“And?”

“And River couldn’t seem to care less. Ash asked a million questions. I heard Soren took his talk well.”

Jamison pulled the chair out at the kitchen table faced it in her direction then sat down.

When he didn’t say anything Emery looked over her shoulder at him. “Raven was happy as ever when she came home.”

Silence.

Emery kept rushing through, putting her things away.

“We can’t keep doing this, Emery,” Jamison said in low, dark tone.

Emery froze. He saw her tremble ever so slightly. No doubt he had taken her off guard. Normally he would be telling her all that he had in place to protect the girls, his backup plan to his backup plan.

His tone was unforgiving, one Emery had never heard him direct at her. She turned to face him. All that was between them was the island in the kitchen, but it felt like a million miles.

“What?” she whispered.

“You love me?” Jamison asked, as his blue eyes shifted to a shade of molten gray.

He’d never asked her directly. He’d heard her whisper it in a fit of passion but it wasn’t something either of them said in passing.

Emery felt her eyes water. She had loved him since she was seventeen. She’d struggled with the idea then, and even more so now. Wasn’t sure if it was his power, his status, his faultless body, those chiseled angelic features, or if it was his soul.

The only soul she had ever spoken to about any of her feelings for him with was Thelma Ray, and all she said was ‘child, when you love a man you love it all, the good, the bad, the ugly, his blessings and his demons.’

Emery sucked in a deep breath. “I always have.”

She watched for his response, prepared to judge it. She judged everything about him, always looking for doubt. She hated herself for doing it but she did. She couldn’t read his expression; it was placid, almost cold.

“And you love our girls?” Jamison said in the same tone.

“How is that a question?” Emery said, blushing with anger.

“How is it a question? How is it not? You love me, you love them, but you keep this family divided.”

“I keep it in balance,” Emery snapped back.

“You call this balance?”

“What has gotten into you?” Emery retorted, with a furrow of her brow.

“I want to know why. Why are we still doing this?”

“The girls need you.”

“The girls. Not you,” Jamison said as his stare shifted over her.

“Stop twisting my words.”

“Why, Emery? Explain this to me. I don’t want to hear the same excuses you’ve given before. The girls are young women, and most of the coven is
very
aware of what they are destined to become.”

Emery jerked her glance away and balled her fist. “It’s still for the girls. Now more than ever.”

Jamison let out a curse as he leaned forward on his knees and hung his head. “You’re impossible.”

“Me?” Emery said, gaining her nerve. “I’m a teacher. I’m a mother of twins, who apparently are fated for more than I would want. I’m simple. You, you’re not.”

Jamison glanced up, surprised he had gotten so much out of her, that many words, that much emotion.

“It’s for the girls,” Emery said again. “Raven’s mother is a
deity
, something you were before you became a witch. She needs uninterrupted time with you. You have to help her focus on what’s coming, explain her heritage to her.”

“Raven’s mother was a host,” Jamison said evenly, without emotion.

Emery pounded her hands on the counter. “You see what I mean? How can you say that—she gave you a
child
?”

“I was there, Emery.”

Emery threw her hands in the air before she began her rant. “You told me all about it, Jamison, I listened. I listen to
everything
you say. You said the woman blinded you with lust, said she was told by the Creator to make you a father, and she did.”

Jamison just stared.

“What’s going to stop her from coming back? What happens when she does? Will lust
steal
you once more?”

Jamison clenched his jaw. He’d answered this before, too. There was no more Raine. She was gone. He had even looked for her to prove to Emery there was nothing between them. Gone.

“Fine,” Emery said, reading the answer on his face. “What about the next one? You said the lust between Escorts—the
fever—
is impossible to fight. What if some other Escort floats on down here and decides to have a good time with you?”

“How can you accuse and convict me of a crime I have not and will not commit?”

Emery shook her head. “I’m protecting myself.”

“And you’re hurting our girls by doing so.” He slowly searched her eyes. “You’re hurting me.”

Emery rocked back as if his words had slapped her.

“River,” Jamison said. “Why didn’t you tell me how upset she was?”

Emery glanced away.

“She’s mine. You can argue with me all you want about how she became mine. How it was supposed to be anonymous, but that argument became superficial the moment I told you I was the father and you still kept me in their lives. I could have protected them as they grew up without them knowing who I was. I told you that. I gave you that choice. It was the hardest decision I have
ever
made, but I gave you that choice.”

Emery looked deep in his eyes as hers welled. A statement like that coming from Jamison meant something. She only knew of a fraction of the choices he’d made that lead him to where he was today, and none of them were easy. They couldn’t be. Too many people depended on him. Too many fates were at play.

“She’s seeking her father because she wants to understand her gifts,” Emery said with a tremble in her voice.

“That’s not the only reason,” Jamison said quietly.

“It’s the reason she gave me.”

“It’s the one you wanted to hear,” Jamison lifted his chin. “They already see us as a family, Emery. I don’t want to hide this from them anymore. The last thing we need is for them to get upset and pull away from us right when their battles are to begin—when they need us the most.”

“And how do you know they won’t do that anyway?” Emery said in a soft tone.

There it was, her true fear; that her girls would never forgive her for playing this role for as long as she had, never understand she had no real excuse beyond the fear she had that Jamison would vanish one day.

Jamison’s vim reached out for her, and in a second she was in his lap. He moved her legs on each side of him, and pulled her hips flush against him. He almost smiled when he heard her breath catch.

He looked up at her. “We raised them to forgive. We raised them to have gratitude. We raised them side-by-side. You’re the only mother Raven has ever known or will know. I’m the only father the twins have or will have.”

His hands moved up her thighs. “You’re mine, Emery. This is our family.” He hesitated as his thumbs moved in small circles on her thighs. “I need you. You know every side of me. Now more than ever we need to be side by side.”