Still of Night (Thorne Hill 4)

“This!” I hold up my left hand, ring flashing in the dim light. “I spent a lot of money on a dress today and we’re picking dates like everything is okay, but it’s not okay. Not at all. We’re not supposed to be together.”

More tears fall and everything that I’ve bottled up comes bubbling to the surface. Lucas speeds down an exit and pulls over and the side of the road.

“And I just can’t help but feel like I’m setting myself up for disappointment. I want to marry you, Lucas. I love you so, so much but I feel like everything is against us.”

My eyes fall shut in an attempt to dam up the tears, but they keep falling like rain, marring my t-shirt with little drops. I’ve never wanted anything more than to be with Lucas. To marry the one person on this earth that I love more than life itself.

“Angels, demons, and witch hunters aside, if the Grand Coven finds out we got married and Tabatha knew—” my voice hitches. “They’ll strip her of her title as High Priestess at least and then…and then…I don’t know.”

“Callie,” Lucas says, deep voice calm and soothing. “It’s going to be okay.”

“But is it?” I suck in a shaky breath. “I just want to marry you, that’s all.” I move my head back and forth. “And it’s not fair for them to say it’s wrong for us to be together. It’s not, not at all. You love me and I love you and we’re not hurting anyone by loving each other.”

“Callie,” Lucas repeats, just as gently as the first time. He cups my face in his large hands and tips my chin up. He kisses me, and some of the stress and anxiety melt away. “We will figure it out.”

“How can you be so sure? I want this so bad, Lucas, so bad it scares me that it’s not going to happen.”

“I want to marry you. You want to marry me. Together, Callie, we make a rather powerful couple. If anyone wants to tell us we’re wrong to be together, we’ll make them rethink it.”

I bring my hands up to his, taking solace in the way his cool skin feels against my hands.

“I guess I just wish I could have my cake and eat it too.” I blink away more tears. “Because the only way I can see this all happening is if I leave the coven for good.”

Lucas’s brow furrows. “You shouldn’t have to do that. The coven is your family.”

“You’re my family too. You’ll be my husband.”

“I want to marry you, Callie, but not at the expense of taking you away from your coven.” He takes my hands in his and fingers the big diamond on my finger. “We don’t need titles. Don’t need rings or white dresses.”

My heart speeds up in my chest. Is he un-proposing? It’s not because he doesn’t love me, but because he does.

“No,” I say firmly. “We don’t need them, but I want them. Call me selfish, but I want to walk down the aisle and kiss you in front of those who mean the most to me.”

“Then that is what we will do.”

My eyes, swollen from crying, beg to be closed. We’re about half an hour from Thorne Hill, and Lucas hasn’t let go of my hand the whole drive into town. I’ve faced a lot of bad shit the last few months. Been in a lot of situations that I didn’t think I’d get out of alive.

Yet there was always some shred of hope. Some unlikely way I’d find a way out. Lucas’s cool fingers laced through mine are giving me that hope once again.

I rest my head back against the seat and let my eyes fall closed. Anxiety rushes through me as soon as I start to drift off.

Angels want to kill me.

Demons want to use me.

Scott tried to kill me.

The fact that I’m certain it’s him who hired the Order isn’t what upsets me. He’s hated me since the day I first showed signs of powers, and I actually thought he’d tried to end me sooner than later, especially after I turned him into a cat. But what bothers me the most is that he’d risk Abby, Phil, or Penny.

The Martins are hardened pieces of shit, but they care about each other, if only for selfish reasons. Risking Abby is a new low, even for Scott.

Nancy probably called him crying, telling him how I embarrassed her in front of her friends by telling them that I’m marrying a vampire. Scott, being the noble son he likes to pretend he is, promised to handle it.

How he had contacts for the Order, I’ll never know. Though if these hunters are killing supernaturals for a price, it’s not surprising they’d approach someone like Scott or my former father.

They’d pay premium to have anyone remotely different than them murdered in cold blood.

I think about it as I drift to sleep, and my dream takes on a familiar form. In my dream, I’m sitting on my front porch, looking out at the side of the yard where the hellhound is. For some reason, I’m not afraid of it anymore.

“Hello again, Callie.”

I jerk my head up and see him walking toward me. My blood runs cold and I want to go into my house. He’s dressed in a black suit with a blood-red button-up shirt showing under his jacket. He throws out a hand and holds me rooted to the spot.

“Don’t,” he says, and when he blinks, his dark eyes glow blue for a split second. “I just want to talk.”

“What do you want?” I ask, voice shaky as I stare down Lucifer. “It doesn’t matter. This is just a dream.”

“Is it?” He tips his head and holds out his hand, snapping his fingers. All at once, he’s next to me on the porch. “You don’t really think it’s just a dream, do you?”

“I’m asleep, so what else would it be?”

Lucifer laughs, and the sound of bells and drums echo behind his laughter. “That’s a nasty cut you have there.” He reaches for the bandage on my shoulder.

“Don’t.” I jerk back and Lucifer holds up his hands.

“Fine. Heal at your annoyingly slow rate then.” He puts his hands in his jacket pockets. “You ran into Nancy Martin today.”

There’s a question in his statement, but I don’t know what to say.

“How’d that make you feel?” he asks, leaning back against the porch railing. “Angry, didn’t it?”

“Of course. How else would I feel to see the woman who just stood by and let me get sold to a research lab?”

Lucifer clicks his tongue. “They’re terrible people. I’ll make sure to save them a special seat in Hell, as you humans like to say. Anything for my one and only niece.” He claps his hands together. “Want to take your revenge now? I can help with it. Torture is kind of my thing.”

“No,” I say quickly.

“You want to, though, don’t you? It would feel good. Just think of all those years of pain. All those years of suffering. How long have you thought about getting revenge? Of letting the truth be known so the world can finally see what pieces of absolute shit the Martins are?”

“I do.” I’ve thought about it before. Many times. Of going on camera and spilling the beans on everything. Though it’s not that simple. Saying I was sold to a research lab because I have supernatural powers will make me sound crazy. That’s what the media will focus on, not the fact that William Martin is a complete and total twat-waffle.

“Then do it! You’re a witch! Get creative.”

My throat starts to feel tight. “No.”

“No? Why not? The world is your oyster, kid! You’ve got more power in your little finger than most humans can even comprehend. Blow shit up. Take control. Act on your desires.”

“Hurting the Martins will hurt my sister, and I don’t want to do that.”

“You love her more than you hate them?” He pushes off the railing and looks at me incredulously.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Interesting. Almost disappointing, but interesting. Tell me. What do you get out of this relationship with the girl who’s not really your sister?”

“I…I…it’s not about getting something out of it,” I finally stammer. “I love her and she loves me. We take care of each other.”

A hand lands on my shoulder and I jerk awak

e. “We’re home, Callie,” Lucas says. I blink several times, feeling out of it from falling asleep.

It was just a dream. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Though even I know that’s not true.

11

“Can I help with anything?” Lucas comes up behind me, slipping his cool hands under my t-shirt. I’m standing at my small island in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. It’s Sunday, and my friends are coming over tonight so I can tell them about Julian.

We’ve spent the last few days hyper-focusing on the house. Lucas did it for my sake, I know, though we both know that shit is about to hit the fan, and if Scott sent witch hunters after me once, he’s going to do it again. I’m not sure how hitmen work, but I assume they don’t get their full payment until the job is done. We’ve both been on edge the last few days, though the only place safer than my house is the Covenstead.

I’ve upped the warding on the house even more than before, and my familiars have been constantly patrolling the woods. I cloaked Binx when we went to the hardware store again, and I made sure to go out of my way to say hello to Officer Maxwell, whose wife frequents the bookstore. The things you do when hired killers are after you…

But no one will protect me like Lucas, and he was more than ready to rip out throats and pull beating hearts right out of the chests of my enemies.

All in all, no one tried to kill me, and Lucas didn’t kill anyone. But we did pick out a stain for the refinished hardwood, finalize paint colors, and ordered a new runner for the grand staircase. I’m still debating on my lighting choices, and while the house will take months if not a good year to fully restore in detail, we should be able to move in sooner than we thought. All I really need is a functional kitchen, a working bathroom, and heat and electricity. We can live there while the finishing touches are being put on, or we could just stay here in my little farmhouse.

It makes more sense to stay here, but I’m getting impatient to move in with Lucas. I’ll miss this house, that’s for sure, but moving in together feels like a fresh start in some way.