Tegan's Power (The Ultimate Power Series #4) (12 page)

It really is just so
good to see him alive and kicking.

“I’m glad you’re alright,
Petal,” he murmurs giving me a little squeeze before releasing me.

“I’m glad you’re
alright, too,” I say and trail my fingertips softly over the bruise on his
face. “Tell Alvie to make you up one of Rita’s healing cream recipes. It should
get rid of this in no time.”

He nods and gives me a
warm smile before moving to leave. When the door slams closed I exhale and feel
relieved that I’m going to see my friends tomorrow, even if Rita isn’t going to
be there. When I return to the living room, Ethan and Lucas are deep in
conversation. I’m far too tired so I leave them to it and climb the stairs to
Ethan’s bedroom where I promptly fall asleep.

Sometime later I find
myself in an endless white room. I know I’m dreaming but it all seems so real.
I look around myself but there’s nothing here, just this eternal whiteness. I
have a momentary thought about this being what limbo feels like when suddenly
there’s a man in front of me.

He’s tall with jet
black hair and ice blue eyes. His skin is pale and I realise that his colouring
is almost the exact same as mine. I also realise that he’s one of the
handsomest men I’ve ever seen. Vanity thy name is…me. His eyes stare endlessly,
a reflection of my own.

His body pulsates with power
and it affects me in a strange way, makes my pores tingle, makes me feel that
tiniest fraction more alive.

“Who are you?” I ask,
my voice unexpectedly filled with wonder.

The man wears a
pristine grey suit, a black shirt and a silver tie. His tall form is sleek and
I can tell he’s probably got some serious muscle going on underneath his
clothes.

A smile creases his
eyes and I get the distinct feeling that although he appears to be no more than
thirty years of age, he is in fact much, much older.

“You’ve been asking
after me,” he says in a deep, thrumming voice.

“I have?” my tone goes
up a notch at the end in anxiety. I don’t feel like I’m in danger, however I do
feel intimidated.

“You have,” he states.
“I am Roman.”

Roman? My grandfather,
Roman? Oh God, I suddenly feel incredibly uncomfortable at the thought that I
had just been checking him out a moment ago. Only my bizarre life could present
me with a long lost grandfather who looks just a couple years older than me.

“Ah, right, uh, yes.
Good. Thanks for, um, answering my call.”

This is so strange. How
on earth could he have known I was asking Emilia about him when he’s not even
supposed to know that my mother was his daughter? Or that Emilia had been
pregnant with his child at all, for that matter.

“I can hear when people
say my name,” he explains, answering my unvoiced question. “No one has uttered
it in a long time, not until a couple of weeks ago when I heard an old lover
say it to you.” He pauses and the silence drags out as a thoughtful look
crosses his features. “Why did she say it to you?”

Right, so maybe he
doesn’t know the ins and out of it all. I guess I’d better tell him. “B-because
you’re my grandfather.”

The moment the words
leave my mouth he walks towards me until we’re standing as close as possible,
his chest pressing against mine and his cool breath hitting my cheeks.

“Your grandfather?” he
breathes. “How?”

“Emilia Petrovsky is my
grandmother. She had a baby that was yours but she never told you about it. Her
name was Darya. She’s dead now.”

He absorbs this
information with an emotionless expression. “So, you are my kin.” Reaching up,
he trails a hand down my face before resting it in a grip on my shoulder. His
hand is firm and then it’s caressing me.

“Yes,” I breathe.

Another smile.
“Wonderful.” And a moment later I get the surprise of my life when his mouth
descends on mine and he’s kissing me – with tongue. WTF? I struggle to push him
away but his hands clamp down on me, holding me firmly in place. A tingle of
what I can only describe as magic shudders through me and I relax into the
kiss, responding to it with an embarrassingly loud moan

Oh no he didn’t! He
just magicked me into allowing him to kiss me, into bloody liking it. My stomach
turns with thoughts of how wrong this is and I summon every ounce of the power
I have in me. Sparks shoot from the palms of my hands as I shove him away and
finally manage to break the kiss.

“What the hell was
that?” I shout drawing back from him hastily.

He touches his hand to
his chest where some of my sparks still singe him, burning through his immaculate
grey suit. He looks amused, intrigued even.

“You have powers. More
than I would expect from a Halfling.”

“A Halfling?” I
question.

“Half human, half
witch,” he explains and I wave him off. I’ve heard enough about that old
chestnut at this point, thank you very much.

“Okay, whatever. Could
you please explain to me what that was all about?”

One end of his mouth
tilts up in a smirk. “I kissed you.”

“Yeah, I know. Is that
how you greet all of your granddaughters?”

“I don’t know. I’ve
never had one before, and you are very pretty.” He stops a second and studies
me. “Ah, I get it. You were brought up in the human tradition. If you had been
raised in the way of magic you would know that what you have been taught to
refer to as incest is not frowned upon in our world. In fact, it is encouraged.
It allows us to maintain our pure bloodlines.”

I scrunch up my face.
“Okay, eww, just eww.” I have to shake my entire body as though his kiss is a
tangible thing that’s stuck to me and I want it off.

He laughs long and deep
and I feel it vibrate right down to the pit of my stomach.

“You’re feisty,” he
says and with a sweep of his hand the white room transforms into a lush library
filled with old bookshelves and antique furniture. He gestures for me to sit on
an armchair and I oblige him. I’m still trying to get my head around the whole ‘incest
= good’, as opposed to ‘incest = bad’ thing. I want to get to know my
grandfather, but if he has some sort of dodgy intentions then I can definitely
forego the family bonding.

Roman sits at the head
of a gorgeously carved wooden desk and then continues to stare at me. “So, you
sought me out for something. What was it?”

“Don’t you even want to
know my name first?” I ask.

He closes his eyes and
a grin touches his perfect mouth. “Tegan Stolle. Now I know your name. Talk.”

“Aren’t you just full
of surprises,” I mutter and a silence ensues.

Finally, I exhale and
proceed to detail the predicament in Tribane with Theodore’s barrier keeping
everyone shut out from the rest of the world, and how the people all know about
supernaturals because of the vampire attacks that Whitfield incited. I finish
up by requesting that he help me in undoing the barrier and somehow making it
so that the humans forget about the supernatural world they have uncovered. Oh,
and I also sneak in that I would very much like to make my friend Rita better
again.

“Sounds like a tricky
situation. I actually remember Theodore from my youth. He had already become a
sorcerer at that point but he wasn’t as powerful back then as he is now.” A
look of nostalgia crosses his features.

“Oh yeah, and when exactly
were those days of youth?” I ask curiously.

“I turned fourteen in
the year 1578, if I recall correctly. My memory is not what it once was,” he
jokes and I can tell it’s just that, a joke. I have a feeling this is a man who
forgets nothing.

“Say what?” I exclaim.
“1578. That means you’re like, four hundred and something years old.” It also
means that Theodore is even older. A shiver runs down my spine.

“That’s correct,” he
preens as though my amazement is a compliment.

“I’ll be twenty-four in
a couple of weeks,” I say.

His eyes grow intense
as he appraises me. “And you wear your twenty-four years exquisitely.”

I roll my eyes at his
flirting and this seems to excite him. “I bet Emilia just loves you,” he says
with a note of sarcasm.

I chuckle. “Yeah, she
thinks I’m a real prize.”

“I remember her well.
She was never fond of girls like you. She thought women should act as ladies.”

“That’s a laugh. She
wasn’t acting like much of a lady when she was spreading her legs for you with
a husband at home none the wiser.”

“Touché.”

I smirk and try to
direct the conversation back to business. “So, can you help me?”

He stands from his desk
and walks to the chair I’m sitting in, perching himself on the armrest. His
long, cleanly manicured fingers trail from the top of my head down my hair and
along my spine slowly. I bristle at his touch but suffer through it, not
wanting to offend him and his granddaughter loving ways. (Even if they do creep
me the eff out.)

“I will look into it,”
he tells me in a silky voice.

“And when will I hear
from you again?”

“I will come to you
when the time is right. You have my word. Sleep well, Tegan.”

And with that I fall
from this dream and into another one. When I wake up the next morning, Ethan’s
hard body is wrapped around mine. I remember the conversation I had with my
grandfather vividly. All I can do is hope that he holds true to his word.

Believers

Finn

It’s three in the morning by the time I
get back to the hotel. I undress and climb into bed beside a sleeping Allora,
close my eyes and it’s lights out. When I wake up Allora’s gone but I can hear
her moving around inside the bathroom.

I get up and walk to
the door before knocking on it. “Hey Goldy, you okay in there?” I call.

“Um, yes,” she answers
hesitantly. “I’m just getting dressed.”

I let my voice drop a
note when I ask huskily, “Need any help?”

I think I hear her let
out a little nervous giggle. Damn, I like that sound. “Nope. I’ve got it under
control.”

“Call if you need me.
I’m going to make a start on packing up all of our stuff.”

She’s only worn one
outfit from the clothes I bought her. I stuff the rest of them into a bag and
gather the remainder of my things. Somewhere along the way the bathroom door
opens and the clean smell of the soap she was using streams out. I inhale it
deeply and then continue what I’m doing.

“We’re going back to
mine today. I’ll make up a room for you and you can stay as long as you want,”
I say not turning around.

“You don’t have to do
that if you don’t have the space for me,” she says and I turn to give her a
look that says,
you’ve got your shit in bucketfuls if you think I’m going to
leave you on your own.

“I’ve got the space,” I
tell her firmly, thinking of Tegan’s vacant room. Something hollow stirs in my
gut. She belongs to Cristescu now. I can see it in the way he looks at her, all
reverent and possessive like he wants to make her his queen or something.

I get dressed quickly
and go to let the others know we’ll be leaving soon. After I left Cristescu’s
place last night, I hightailed it back to the DOH compound where I’d deserted the
van I stocked up with weapons and ammo. I found it in the exact place I’d left
it and drove straight back to the hotel. The girl vamp who’d been lying on the
ground with half her head blown off was gone. The only evidence of her presence
was a circle of black blood on the ground and a smeared line of it where she
presumably crawled away.

Once everybody’s loaded
up into the van I drive out of the hotel and back onto the motorway. I
certainly won’t miss the place. In my head I’m figuring out where everyone’s
going to sleep. Delilah’s going back to vamp territory sometime today, so that
leaves me with one less person to cater for. Alvie and Gabe can have the RV
since Rita’s gone. Ira can stay in Gabriel’s old room, I’ll stay in mine and
Allora can stay in Tegan’s. It’s a small comfort to know I’ll be able to sleep
in my own bed again.

“So, when are you
heading to your bro’s place?” I ask Delilah on the drive.

She shrugs. “I’m
actually thinking of staying in the house across from yours. Ira can sleep
there, too.”

I bet he can. I give
her a smirk through my overhead mirror before focusing back on the road.

“You sure Cristescu’s
going to be okay with that? He seemed eager to have you back under his roof
when I spoke to him.”

Earlier today I briefly
filled them all in on my vamp encounter last night and my subsequent meeting
with Tegan and her beau.

Delilah lets out a
humph-like noise of annoyance. “He’s not getting me back in that house again.
The whole time Whitfield was in power he hardly let me go anywhere by myself
because there was too much hostility towards dhamphirs. I’m keeping hold of my
freedom this time around.”