Anathema (Causal Enchantment #1)(33)
Author: K.A. Tucker

Caden looked down at me. “What do you think? She’s the biggest threat to you.”

I glanced at Rachel’s motionless body. “We could wait until we’re sure. We can always get rid of her later.” As the callous words left my mouth, a wave of revulsion hit me. I could be like Viggo. A monster.

“Okay. Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I definitely can’t spend another second looking at her,” Bishop muttered, grabbing her feet and unceremoniously dragging her down a tunnel like an awkward piece of garbage, out of our sight.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” I mumbled, the rush of adrenaline fading to allow bitter nausea. I almost fell onto a bench.

“No, that shade of green isn’t flattering,” Fiona mumbled, coming over to rub my back. I turned to see Caden staring at me, an unreadable expression on his face.

Bishop strolled back in then, dusting his hands off as if they were covered in dirt. “Try not to attract anymore lunatics, okay?” he directed at Caden before winking at me.

Caden’s eyes didn’t even flicker from my face as he gave Bishop the finger.

“So that is a universal gesture,” I noted, earning a laugh from Bishop. Not even a twitch from Caden.

“All this excitement! I need to go hunt,” Amelie exclaimed. “Something feisty … Oh, I don’t know, a wild cat, maybe?” She grinned. “You guys in?” her question was directed at Bishop and Fiona, her eyebrow raised suggestively.

“See you two later,” Bishop called as they vanished out the cave entrance.

“One obstacle down,” I said lightly. “See? Not so hard.” Except for the bound, sedated, psychotic vampire hidden somewhere in the tunnels, I reminded myself, glancing warily down the tunnel Bishop had dragged Rachel into.

Caden took a seat beside me on the bench. “You could have been killed, Evangeline,” he admonished me.

“Well, it’s not like I had much choice,” I retorted.

He exhaled noisily. “Yes, you did. You could have just shown it to her and let us handle it.”

“I like my solution better.”

“Your solution almost got you killed!”

“Okay, I’m sorry!” I cried, a tear escaping. “But it didn’t and now we don’t have to worry about her. Now we can focus on getting you home with me.”

Caden squeezed his eyes shut. “The sooner we leave here with you, the sooner I become a danger to you; the sooner I likely can’t be in the same room as you,” he said miserably. “You and I are still impossible.”

“No. We are not,” I growled impatiently. “Maybe a tad complex for the moment, but not impossible.”

Finally a flicker of something like amusement crossed Caden’s face. “When did you become so stubborn?” He sighed. “It seems like that right here, right now, but in your world … impossible,” he countered, sadness in his voice.

I gazed upon that intoxicatingly beautiful face that I was so wildly in love with and my jaw set with determination. I wouldn’t give up on us and I certainly wouldn’t let him. An irrepressible urge suddenly gripped me. Sliding closer, I reached over to gently cup his cheek and pull his face toward me. His eyes remained closed. “Well, then I guess we better not waste anymore of this valuable time,” I murmured brazenly, reaching up with my other hand to touch his chest, the ripple of his muscles under my fingertips making me tremble.

I didn’t think it would work, my novice attempt at seducing him. I assumed he’d push my hand aside, listing—yet again—all the reasons why we were impossible. Maybe he’d even laugh at my ridiculousness. But when he opened his eyes, when I saw the intensity burning within them, I knew I was far off in my assumption. I heard the low, feral groan in his throat and he closed the distance between us, responding whole–heartedly.

I had no idea what time it was and I didn’t care. I only cared that I would have to leave Caden at some point and I dreaded that reality.

We had spent all night on that blow–up mattress. Things had gone out of control shockingly fast and I hadn’t minded one bit, abandoning all my anxiety and self–consciousness the second his lips touched mine. But, with clothing torn off and bodies tangled, Caden must have realized where we were headed because he stealthily bound me up within the sleeping bag.

“To keep us out of too much trouble” Caden had whispered.

“No. I want trouble,” I’d pleaded shyly.

“I don’t,” he responded resolutely, his jaw set. “No, no, you don’t understand,” he quickly added when he saw my wounded expression. “No, that’s not it. I’m … afraid.”

“What? Like virgin–afraid? Same here!” My eyes widened, relief flooding me at the revelation that I wasn’t the only one.

He chuckled. “No …”

Drat. My face flushed.

“But later, if … when you bring us to your planet, you’re going to see what I turn into.” Something like shame flitted across his face. “I don’t want you to have regrets,” he added in a whisper.

“There’s no way I’ll regret any of—”

He stifled my argument with an intensely passionate kiss and I forgot what I wanted to say. I may have forgotten how to speak altogether.

The sleeping bag remained a frustrating but effective barrier between us for the rest of the night. I tried to wriggle out countless times but he kept me pinned tightly underneath it until I was too exhausted to fight him.

At some point in the wee hours of the morning, when I could see the faint arrival of early dawn outside, I dozed off. It wasn’t something I had planned, but with my face nestled euphorically against Caden’s chest, enveloped within his strong arms, his hand therapeutically drawing circles over my back, sleep was inevitable.

“Aren’t you hungry? Or thirsty? Or whatever it is you call it,” I asked, peering at Caden.

“I’m okay until you leave.” He nuzzled his cool nose against my neck, causing another stirring deep within me.

I slid over to rest my head on his chest, my hand creeping to glide down the ripples of his stomach muscles.

“They’ll be back soon.” Caden’s hand clamped over mine, holding it in place.

I groaned in frustration but stayed my hand. “They’ve been gone awhile,” I suddenly realized. “How many animals can they possibly kill in one night?”

“It’s the hunt as much as the kill,” Caden answered, chuckling. “As a human, Amelie condemned flyswatters as cruel. Once, when she was seventeen, she was driving along the road when a chipmunk darted in front of her. She swerved to avoid it, slamming into a giant oak.”

I gasped, but he shook his head dismissively. “Oh, she was fine, surprisingly. Only a couple bumps and bruises … She was driving one of the big pickups that we used to transport horses. The truck and the tree were goners, though.”

“Was the chipmunk okay?” I heard myself ask with grave concern.

Caden laughed, the deep vibrations tickling my eardrum. “Yes, I believe he made it. Amelie swore the rodent waved at her from a tree.”

I giggled. “I don’t doubt she did.”

“She explained it all to my parents later. I thought my dad was going to wring her neck.” He chuckled again.

I raised my head and propped myself up on my elbows so I could see Caden’s face. “Do you still miss them after all these years?”

The seconds ticked by before he had an answer. “Being what we are, it’s easy to lose yourself in the moment, in your immediate desires, as overpowering as they become. But there’s always downtime, when that hunger is satiated and you have time to think. Maybe minutes, maybe hours. Or years. And in that time, your memories—which are never–fading and vivid enough that you could relive them just by closing your eyes—can overpower you. If you let them.” He rolled over to press his lips against my folded hands. “I wish I could get that last image of my father out of my head. But every time I think of him, that one shows up. Like a parasite attached to my brain.” He began playing with my fingertips.

“Well, hopefully we can fill your head with lots of new memories—ones without wars and jungles and mountains.”

He turned to look at me with a grim expression. “There are so many things that can go wrong with this—with us. I want you to understand them all before this goes any further.”

“Like what?” I asked warily, though inside, my heart was doing a full acrobatics show because he said “with us.” It sounded positive, as if he was finally coming around, as if he might stop using the word “impossible.”

“Like, if we figure out how to get back to your world with you and if none of us attack you—those are already two massive obstacles—I’ll be focused with fighting the urge to feed off humans, regardless of whether it’s what I want. We all will be.”

“That’s okay,” I murmured.

He snorted, shaking his head. “No, you don’t understand what that means. We won’t be the same, Evangeline. This isn’t a minor inconvenience, a slight discomfort. It could take years—decades, even—before you see Amelie waving her pom–poms around. Fighting that lust, that urge—it’s all–consuming. It takes all of our energy and focus. You could be ninety years old before we resemble who we are today. You could be dead.”

That image of the wrinkled old lady in the string bikini burned in my head again. I shook my head, frantically trying to drive it out.

Caden propped himself up on one elbow. “And none of that will be an issue if one of us kills you the second we smell your blood.” His face contorted with horror. “I will throw myself into a flaming pit if that happens.”

“Well, maybe …” I grasped for some hope as the picture Caden painted turned grimmer by the second “… maybe Sofie can do something to extend the power of this necklace?”

Caden’s eyes dropped to the pendant dangling from my neck. “Maybe … Otherwise, you and I can’t be anywhere near each other. It was hard enough not killing every human that crossed my path for the first fifty years after I was converted. But you—the feelings I have for you make the urge that much more impossible to resist. Hugging you could turn deadly.”

Those giant bat butterflies began thumping around in my stomach again. I took a deep breath. “You’re focusing on worst–case scenarios. I’d prefer taking a page out of Amelie’s book of optimism. It’s much more pleasant.”

“Amelie also killed her boyfriend, whom she was madly in love with,” he reminded me in a flat voice.

“Good point,” I muttered, sighing noisily and rolling onto my back.

Caden took that as his cue to sit up. He reached for his pants, lying in a tangled heap next to everything else I had ripped off him. “I’m more concerned about you not lasting long enough for us to find this portal.” He stood up to dress himself.

“That makes two of us.” I averted my eyes, heat creeping up my neck. Would this be my last trip here? Was hope for solving this curse’s riddle fading as I lay here, enjoying Caden’s company, oblivious to how close the end was? How could Sofie ask me to just sit around and wait for the portal to grace us with its presence?

I couldn’t.

Scrabbling for my clothes, I dressed in record time—crossing my fingers that Caden wasn’t watching me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he called, an amused look on his face as I headed toward the cave entrance.

“Oh, right!” I ran back and grabbed one of the mountain bag straps. I yanked as hard as I could, with little result. “Help me!” I cried.

“Okay, okay,” Caden said calmly, grabbing both bags and slinging them over his shoulder. They were so big that, as strong as he was, they were awkward to carry. “Can you tell me where we’re going, at least?”

“To find this damn portal!” I announced, running out the cave entrance.

A torrential downpour greeted me, soaking my clothes in seconds.

“You can’t go out in this, Evangeline,” Caden said softly, placing his hand on my shoulder and pulling me back to cover.

“But I have to! We have to find this thing, and now!” Tears mingled with the rain on my cheeks as I sobbed freely. “I don’t want to go back there without you.”

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

“Are we allowed to come back now?” Bishop called as he appeared out of nowhere, his hair and clothing drenched. Fiona and Amelie were behind him, watching me with worried expressions.

I nodded and offered a small, reassuring smile but otherwise said nothing. The five of us stood in silence, looking out over the storm.