Wicked Burn (Realm Enforcers #3)(11)

The adult lifted his chin and inhaled, his nostrils flaring. “I can smell her on you. You are part witch.”

Simone had stilled. Part witch? “I’m all witch.”

“Is that what she told you?” the adult asked. “Where did you get the last name of Brightston?”

Her mother had said that she was a bright light in Viv’s life. It wasn’t uncommon for witches to use new first and last names for their offspring. “None of your business. Who are you?” Her knees began to tremble.

“I’m Roman. Has your mother ever mentioned me?”

Simone tensed to go for the knife in her right boot. “No. Sorry.”

He pulled out a green gun—one that shot lasers. Immortal weapons had always been eons ahead of human ones. “That’s all right. Though you’d think the fact that I impregnated her would’ve made her track me down.”

“What?” Simone asked, her gaze going to the barrel.

The kid’s eyes widened. “You said you wouldn’t hurt her.”

“Shut up.” Roman swung, much faster than Simone would’ve expected, and smashed the kid in the temple.

The teen dropped like a weight tossed into a river and kept going, crashing right out the window. The impact of his body hitting the ground below rolled in with the wind.

Simone gasped. “What have you done?”

“The stupid prick knows not to question me.” Roman’s broad shoulders hunched, and his eyes darkened to beyond black. “You need to come with me.”

The words took a moment to penetrate her shocked mind. The lunatic wanted to kidnap her? “My family won’t pay a ransom.” There was no way this male was her father, was there? “So leave.”

“I’m your family now.” Roman’s eyes narrowed. “Your mother obviously has done a horrendous job, considering you’re about to be mated to a demon. I saw the land deeds for the cozy little cottage.”

All right, the guy was crazy. “The demon is long gone. Get out, or I’m going to hurt you.” Her voice quavered, and she infused strength into it.

He sighed. “I don’t want to shoot you, but I will. Then you can heal at home. Your new home.”

Fire lanced down her arms, but before she could throw plasma, he pulled the trigger.

A bullet struck Simone’s chest, and pain exploded through her torso and down her shoulder. She cried out and fell to one knee, gasping for air. It wouldn’t kill her, but recuperation would take a while.

Fire danced down her arms, and she started to throw, going into a survival mode she’d only heard about. Hissing and throwing fire, she yanked her knife free of her boot and lunged at her attacker.

Something smashed hard into her face, and darkness assailed her.

Then nothing. No sights, no sounds, no feelings.

Sometime later, she came awake, her entire body hurting. Groaning, she sat up to see Roman’s lifeless corpse sprawled across her floor. The blood around where his head should’ve been had already congealed.

Bile rose in her throat.

She sucked it down and then saw his head beneath her table.





Oh God. Somehow, she’d killed him. She tried to crawl forward and reached the window, grabbing the sill to look down at the cobblestones. Blood marred the area, but the kid had disappeared; he must still be alive.

“Um, lady? I was out cold for a while.” The kid limped inside, and his eyes widened. “Oh my God. You killed him.”

Had she? She must have. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, trying to stand up.

He reached her and helped her, already strong at his young age. “As a father, he failed both of us. I’m sorry, too.” Blood matted the kid’s shaggy hair.

Dots covered her vision, and she tried to remain upright. “Was he really my father?”

“Aye. Sorry about that.” The kid shook his head. “What now?”

Simone swallowed. “Now we get help from my mother. She has a lot of questions to answer for me.”

Beauregard nodded. “I have family across the sea, and I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

“We’ll get you there, sweetie. I promise.”





Simone awoke from the dream with a heavy weight on her chest. Holding perfectly still, she opened her eyes, her senses going on full alert. She glanced down. A thickly muscled arm was thrown across the tops of her breasts.

The smell of a storm about to strike, pine-filled and wild, surrounded her.

Nicholai.

Sadness swamped her for the briefest of seconds. There was a time, not too long ago, when she’d belonged next to him. She looked toward her left. He lay on his stomach, sprawled carelessly across most of the bed, his arm over her. Broad muscles made up his back and tapered down to his trim waist. His head was turned away from her, and it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from running her fingers through his dark blond hair. He’d grown it almost to his shoulders, giving him a bit of a pirate look.

A rumbling broke through her musings, destroying the silence. “What the hell?” she whispered.

“Bear snores.” Nick turned his head, his dark eyes sleepy, lines cut into the sides of his mouth. The air around them nearly sparkled from the healing waves cascading from both of them. “How are you?”