Kiss the Stars (Falling Stars #1)(53)

“No, Mia, I’d call you kind.” He edged in closer. The overwhelming force of his presence covered me whole.

Cloves and whiskey and hot, wicked sex.

His hand came out, the pad of his index finger scraping down my cheek and across my bottom lip. “Which is the reason I would gladly hurl myself over a wall to face the unknown. Why I would gladly rip apart any monster who would seek to do you wrong. Which is exactly why I stay away because the last thing I want to do is more harm. I will destroy you, Mia, just like I destroy every good thing I ever have.”

“What if I don’t let you get that close?”

He moved in, his lips an inch from mine. “Don’t kid yourself, Angel. I’m already there. You and I both know it.”

Flames licked. Danced and jumped and burned in the naked space between us.

“How is it possible you already made it there?” I whispered.

“Maybe some things are meant to be, written before time, but when you get there? You’ve already fucked it up so bad that it’s not yours anymore, and it gets lumped in with the things you can’t have but feel like you can’t live without. They become a piece that will forever go missing.”

“And what if you’re only meant to work harder for it?”

“That is nothing but a dangerous fantasy.”

“Is that what you are, a dangerous fantasy?”

He leaned forward, his touch searing through me when he set his palm on my cheek. “No, baby, you’re mine.”





Seventeen





Leif





Dread whirred. A cyclone. A tornado.

A typhoon that twisted and blew and raged.

I raced through the middle of it, wind whipping at all sides, exhaustion weighting my feet as I struggled to break through the crush of the crowd that surrounded me like an army that had been sent to wall me in.

Arms like tendrils that curled and bound and struggled to hold me back.

Pain everywhere.

Body afire.

Soul consumed.

I broke through the mob, a roar rushing up my burning throat, eyes searching through the blinding rays of sunlight that streaked from the sky.

Blazing hot whips that scored my back.

Time ticked.

Another minute passed.

Running out of time.

I could fix it. Stop it. End it.

Offer myself. I burst through the door. Hands fought to hold me back.

“Maddie!” I screamed. “Maddie!”

I screamed and I screamed.

“Maddie!”



“Maddie!” I shot upright in bed as the name left my mouth, the shout of agony bouncing off the walls and echoing back.

Perpetual.

Eternal.

Gaining speed with each pass.

Sweat drenched my skin, heart hammering at my ribs, so hard something was bound to crack.

Sickness squeezed my insides to liquid, nausea climbing my throat and threatening to spill out onto the floor.

I gasped and choked, blinking frantically, trying to orient myself from the dream.

To bring myself back from the nightmare that would haunt me for all my days. The ghosts getting closer, demanding vindication. Screaming for retribution.

They howled and moaned in my mind, my soul at their mercy.

This.

This was the debt I owed. I needed to remember that.

With the barest hints of dawn seeping through the windows of the bedroom, I tossed the covers from my body, and I pushed from the bed and walked straight into the attached bathroom. I shoved my underwear to the floor and turned on the showerhead to as hot as it would go. As soon as it began to steam, I stepped under the scorching spray. Praying for a second of reprieve.

I heaved out a sigh as I glanced down to my abdomen. At the scars. The only thing physical that remained.

If only they would have taken me.

But that would have been too easy. Not close to being cruel enough.

The wicked thirsted for blood.

And this morning, I could taste the fruition of it on my tongue.





*



“Shit.” I banged around the little kitchen in the guest house, slamming the cabinet doors after rummaging through the contents and coming up empty.

No fucking coffee.

Now that was just cruel and unjust.

I blew out a heavy sigh, grabbing a tee that I’d tossed to the couch and pulling it over my head before I stepped out into the coolness of the breaking day.

For a minute, the humidity was held. A moment’s sanctuary from the Savannah summer heat.

Barefoot, I tiptoed through the stilled hush of the morning, birds chirping through the light rustle of the trees that billowed from above.

If you listened closely enough, you could almost believe in peace.

I made it to the glass wood-framed doors at the back entrance of the main house, and I tapped in the code. The lock gave, and I quietly pushed open the door a fraction so I could slip into the sleeping house without being noticed.

I eased it shut behind me. Eyes on my feet, I roughed a hand through my still damp hair as I headed for the kitchen.

Two steps in, I froze when I realized I wasn’t alone. “Penny. You scared me.”

Somehow, I managed to keep the curse from ripping off my tongue.

The young girl stilled in surprise where she was turning on a burner on the stovetop.