Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 144404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
It wasn’t true. I wouldn’t let myself feel anything for Casey. Dean was wrong. There was nothing inside me that was capable of true emotion, but he didn’t have to know that.
He didn’t have to know how it thrummed under the surface, taunting me because there was an essential piece of me that was gone, that I’d given away.
Also, it had been a while for me. I told myself that it was because none of the wizards in the Coven House moved me.
I didn’t admit that they didn’t move me because they were not Casey.
“And I have no reason to believe you.” His mouth hovered over mine, and the years between us suddenly didn’t seem so long. I could still remember the first time he’d kissed me, though our first real intimacy had been long before that day.
I remembered the first time I’d fed him. It had been after a battle, and he’d lost a lot of blood. We’d been in the back of Gray’s truck, and there was no one else to help him. I remembered how winter had been all around us, and I was so cold. I’d had to stroke his hair and bring him to my neck because Casey wasn’t the vampire who would fall on his prey. I don’t think Casey thought of the women who fed him as prey at all. Stupid academics. They had to have control always. They had to make you beg for it—even to save them.
“I love you, Olivia,” he whispered, one big palm coming up to cup my neck. “That’s why you should believe me. Kelsey loves you. Hell, deep down the kids still love the Liv they remember.”
A memory hit me. It was odd when I thought of those twelve years Kelsey was gone because I lived in the present. From the moment I’d realized I must take my place with my true family—the witches—I had floated through my days, letting the past completely go. When I would remember too much there were spells to help with that. Myrddin helped me to focus on the present.
It wasn’t that I didn’t remember. I could if I wanted to, but those days didn’t haunt me. I still felt a vague residual longing for certain times in my past, but I didn’t obsess about them. With the singular exception of my dreams, and those were always about what happened to me in the Wyoming wilderness. I didn’t dream about Casey kissing me or sitting around my apartment with Kelsey watching foolish entertainments.
But standing here with Casey so close to me, with his words tickling at places in my brain I thought I’d cut out, a memory flashed through me.
I’m standing in the middle of the penthouse with early afternoon light streaming in, and Albert is beside me in the kitchen. We talk about silly things, though he sounds serious even as he expresses his admiration for last night’s Survivor episode. Sometimes I would join him, and the big demon and I would pop some corn and drink Coke from real bottles and argue over how an immunity idol should be used. The sun is warm on my skin and I can hear the kids giggling in the other room and smell the scent of cinnamon from the French toast I’m making. It’s a lot because Kelsey will be back soon, and she’s been out investigating something with Marcus and she’ll eat and eat and eat. Marcus loves my French toast. He begs her to put more syrup on. I flip over a piece and wonder what it would be like to have a vampire adore me so much he could taste the food I ate, the wine on my tongue. Rhys runs in, and he's so heartbreakingly adorable I can’t help but grin. Miss Liv. Miss Liv, come dance with us. It’s our song. Florence and the Machine. It’s a joyous song, and Albert chuckles and takes over for me because Rhys has his hand in mine and he’s pulling me in. The playroom is a mess, but I don’t care because Lee has the music too loud and Mia is dancing with Zack’s little girl, Courtney. They all light up when I start dancing and I feel…I feel…I FEEL…
I pushed him away, shoving as much at that memory as I was him.
I didn’t want to feel. Not like that. I didn’t want to remember how I’d loved to dance and feel the sun on my skin and flirt with Casey and have Albert teach me how to cook. I didn’t want to remember how my parents had cuddled me and loved me and they would be so…
“Fuck off, Casey.” I forced the words out of my mouth.
“I’ve been wrong this whole time, haven’t I? I keep snapping at you, but that’s the wrong way to deal with you. That’s what you want.” If he was angry I’d pushed him, I couldn’t tell. His gorgeous face looked almost sad as he stared at me.