It wasn’t until she teetered toward the ground, her legs giving out, that I realized the direness of her situation. In a flash I was at her side, sliding my arm around her waist and pulling her close. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, but the pain in her eyes told me otherwise. She was far from well. She had only moments before she passed out. “Go. I’ll mentally call for Jotham once you leave, he’ll meet you in the fields. The vamps won’t follow, they can’t stand sunlight.”
“I won’t leave you!”
I wanted to shake some sense into her, but I didn’t have time. “Then we will both die and this will be for nothing!”
“Oh my God, you’re not here to get us out.” Stunned, in pain, she dropped the sword to her side. “You’re here to die.”
I released my hold and shoved her toward the door. “Just go, now.”
“Owen.” She shook her head, her lower lip quivering. “Don’t you get it? I can’t leave you.”
“Bloody hell.” I spun around just in time to hit a vampire across the face with my crossbow. But it was too late. We were surrounded. Slowly, I stepped closer to Emma, my back to her. At least twenty, if I had counted correctly…and they were all ready to feed. They’d smelled Emma’s blood and their hunger would not be denied.
Emma’s uninjured hand slid into mine, her fingers cold, trembling. It was over. I had failed…again.
“Go,” she whispered. “Just go. You can teleport out of here. There’s no reason for both of us to die.”
I looked down at her, taking in her pale, sweaty face. “I won’t leave you,” I said, repeating her words. “I promised I’d never leave you, and I won’t.”
Tears shimmered in her blue eyes, making them sparkle, probably the last thing I would see. “Owen, don’t. Please.”
I gave her a soft smile and for that brief moment it was only the two of us, and nothing else mattered. “We’re in this together, Emma.”
“Enough!” Bay roared, shoving aside two vampires to get to us.
The leader paused, his breathing heavy, the suit he wore in tatters. He might not be able to stop the twenty or so vamps out to kill us, but maybe he and his army could. The guards shoved their way to the forefront, pushing at the other vampires until they backed up a few steps.
But their attention wasn’t focused on Bay. No, they were focused on Emma. The blood was slowly draining, dripping down her arm, her hand, and pooling onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. They could smell it, and it fed the beasts. They wouldn’t be denied for long.
“We were friendly at one time,” Bay said, his gaze on me.
“We were,” I managed to respond. “Until you tried to steal my Matchmaker.”
His mouth quirked. “Fair enough. Word is that you’ve been banned from the Consulate.”
I felt Emma’s shock next to me but I didn’t respond. She wouldn’t last much longer, could barely keep standing. I tightened my hand on hers. If Bay was going to help us, I wished he’d get on with it.
“The Consulate and I have disagreed,” I explained.
He laughed. “I’ve misjudged you.”
But just as quickly as it had come, his laughter faded. He was silent for a long moment, the only sound the slight hiss coming from the surrounding vampires who were just waiting for word to attack.
Finally, he stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Go, Protector. Take your Matchmaker. I have a feeling she’s useless to us anyway.”
There was a hiss of disapproval from the other vampires who had heard; I could feel their anger and disbelief mounting. I didn’t envy Bay. We had to get out of there immediately, before they overpowered their leader and we were screwed.
Emma reached out, briefly touching Bay’s arm. “Thank you.”
Bay looked just as surprised as I felt. Really, thanking the bastard was a bit much, considering she was here because of him.
She started to pull back, only to pause. When I saw the odd look flash in her eyes, I almost groaned. I knew exactly what was happening. Slowly, painfully, she leaned forward and whispered near Bay’s ear, “University of Lyon. She teaches medieval history.”
Bay blinked at her, stunned. But I hid my surprise well. We didn’t have time for questions, and I didn’t wait around to hear his words of thanks. While the other vampires were hissing their displeasure and the guards were holding them back, I scooped Emma up into my arms and raced from the room. It was as I reached the hall that I heard the uproar behind us. Bay would only be able to hold them back for so long.
“Thank you, Owen,” Emma whispered, her breath warm across my neck.
I ran down the dark hall, toward those massive double doors and freedom. “There’s no need to thank me.”
“I know.” She smiled up at me as I kicked open the doors. The brilliant sun that burst inside was almost blinding, but I welcomed the light, for it would protect us. “You were just doing your job.”
Yeah, just my job. But we both knew that wasn’t true. This wasn’t my job. No, this was…more.
“It’s okay.” I didn’t take the drive but climbed a hill of poppies, praying I wasn’t too late. “We’re almost there.”
But I knew it wasn’t okay. Her blood had already soaked my shirt, warm and wet, draining from her body and branding mine. The vampire had cut an artery. “I can’t believe you managed to get injured again.”
“Next time,” she whispered, her voice so weak I could barely hear her. “I’ll be more careful.”
I managed to reach the top of the hill and stopped, laying her upon the flowers. “Emma?”
But she didn’t answer. My chest grew heavy, the denial frozen on my lips. Slowly, her lashes lowered, her eyes closed, and she lay still upon a bed of blooms as red as her blood. As she lay there, her pale skin glowing from the rising sun, I realized I could still save her. Maybe. Just maybe.
I rested my trembling hands atop her chest. Her heart beat painfully slow, so very slow. “One more time, Emma,” I whispered. “Just once more.”
I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath, and pulled the injury from her body.
********
Emma
One moment I was drowning, sinking into a sea of dark, desperate pain. The next moment Owen was there. Owen…his energy, I recognized him, how could I not? His energy pulled me out of that pool of despair, lifting me higher…higher. The pain receded and warmth surged forward, sweeping through my body. A brilliant, wonderful warmth. The sort of sensation I’d felt before. A sensation I knew well by now.
Owen.
Startled, I jerked my eyes open, only to groan and close them again as brilliant sunlight pierced my corneas, blinding me momentarily. Frantic to understand, I shoved my hands into the bristly field grasses and sat up, surrounded by swaying red poppies. Somehow I’d made it outside that vampire lair and into the fields beyond. Slowly, I looked down at my body. Brilliant scarlet soaked my torso, making my clothing stick to my skin.
Bemused, I turned, searching for the man who had saved me yet again. “Owen?”
He sat next to me, only about ten feet away, his body silhouetted against the sun. I smiled, relieved. “Owen.” But as I crawled toward him, my smile fell. Those green eyes were hazy, unfocused, and he was still, so still as he stared at me. “Owen?”
Slowly, he slumped, his body folding as he fell onto his back, eyes closed.
“No,” I whispered. “No!”
I surged toward him, barely noticing the stiff grasses biting into my sensitive palms. He was pale. Oh God, so very pale. The sting of tears burned my eyes, as my heart denied what my mind knew was true. “Owen?”
Lightly, I slapped his left cheek. He didn’t move, didn’t even flinch and I knew…
I looked at my arm. Blood stained my skin and dress. So much blood, but there was no wound. Frantic, I pulled up my tattered sleeve, searching my arm. Nothing. I let the sleeve fall back and gripped Owen’s shoulders. “You stupid, stupid man!”
Why? Why had he done it? I gripped his a
rm and turned it over. There, across those tattooed muscles was a sharp red line. My injury. Seb had almost died because of his Protector. No, I couldn’t let Owen die. I wouldn’t. I patted his face lightly, but he didn’t stir. I wasn’t even sure if he breathed. He was pale…so pale.
I gripped his shirt, terrified. “Owen, please. Don’t leave me. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’ll probably get caught again, and you’ll most likely have to save me. Please, I can’t do this alone.”
Still he didn’t respond.
“Jotham!” I cried out, my voice echoing across the field. “Jotham, please!”
I didn’t wait, but leaned down and covered my mouth over Owen’s. I gave him two quick breaths, watching the rise and fall of his chest from the corner of my eye. Just as I was getting ready to press my hands to his sternum for compressions, I felt the slightest shiver of awareness. Hope sprang to life. Jotham’s tall, serene form shimmered into being.
Even before he fully appeared, I cried out, “Do something!”
His startled gaze found Owen’s lifeless form. But Jotham didn’t react, merely shook his head mournfully. “There isn’t much I can do. His powers are weakened. He’s dying.”
“No, please, Jotham,” I whispered, resting my hands on Owen’s chest. If I could feel his heartbeat, if I could touch him, then somehow, maybe I could keep him alive. “I’m begging you…do something.”
For one long moment he was silent. Not even the birds chirped. Finally he sighed, those narrow shoulders slumping. “There is a way, one way that might work.”
“Whatever it is, do it.”
He nodded, seeming determined now. When he knelt beside us and held out his hand, I didn’t hesitate and wrapped my fingers around his. “You’ll come with me.”
He rested his free hand on Owen’s shoulder. Suddenly everything went black. I didn’t have time to panic, didn’t even have time to question his motives. When the light burst to life, we were standing in a small bedroom. White wallpaper with tiny roses covered the walls, while a four-poster bed took up much of the area. But it was Owen, lying upon that bed so still and quiet, who caught my attention.
“Where are we?”
“Your aunt’s cottage, now yours.”
Nothing had changed, only our location. Owen was still pale, still near death. Anger and confusion combined. “Why are we here?”
“Here, you can hide in peace. Here, no one will find you, for your aunt had the good sense to use a fairy protection spell to hide the place. And here he can mend.”
Hope welled within, giving me reason to breathe. I rested on the edge of the bed, taking Owen’s cold hand in mine. “Can you heal him?”
“No.”
I jerked my gaze toward him, confused, desperate. “But—”
“But I can place him in a type of coma.”
I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but I’d take it. “How will it help?”
Jotham settled in the only chair. “He will remain suspended between life and death, and hopefully he will heal while he’s under.”
I nodded. Okay, a plan, we had a plan. I could survive with a plan. “And when will he wake up?”
“Tomorrow. A month from now.” He paused for a long, terrible moment. “Never. I don’t know.”
The hot sting of tears burned my eyes. I couldn’t stop them from coming, and one by one they trailed down my cheeks, dripping softly to the duvet. “Never?”
“It depends upon how much magic he has left. If his body can heal or not.”
We sat in silence, both of us watching Owen…waiting, as if we expected him to wake up at any moment. He looked so peaceful, so strong, so normal. But he was merely frozen between death and life, and it was my fault. I knew it. Jotham knew it. My fault. Why hadn’t I been more vigilant? Matchmakers were expendable; Protectors weren’t. Yet, here I was.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed, it could have been mere minutes or hours when Jotham finally stood. “I must go.” He rested his hand atop my head, his mournful gaze upon Owen. “They will be looking for me.”
I’d be alone with Owen. I didn’t know what to do with him, how to help. I tightened my hold on Owen’s hand, resisting the urge to beg the old man to stay. “Will they come for us?”
“I will not tell them what happened, and because of the spell they shouldn’t be able to find you.”
At least for now. I glanced back at Owen. I knew we couldn’t hide here forever. But I also knew that he would wake up; I had to believe that. Owen was strong, stronger than anyone I knew. He would survive, and so we would wait here until he came back to me.
“I have called for Sebastian.” Jotham moved toward the door. “He should be arriving soon. If you need anything, he will help you.”
Before I had time to thank him, Jotham was gone.
Alone, I was alone with Owen and I had no idea what to do. I trailed my fingers down the hard planes of his face. So beautiful, so strong. Careful, I climbed onto the bed, lying beside him. The sun moved slowly across the sky, the hours passing, and still I didn’t move.
How many times had he saved me? Too many to count. I rested my hand on his heart, the beat slow but steady, thank God.
It was time I saved him. And I would. Somehow, someway, I would figure out how to bring Owen back from the dead.
Epilogue
Two Months Later
Emma
I snapped the last rose of the season from its thorny branch and brought it close, breathing in deeply the sweet scent. It calmed me, like this garden always did. Blue skies, crisp morning air, perfect French cottage, all within a bubble of safety. Here, I didn’t have to worry. Here, the world stood still.
“Overheard the baker in town saying fall would be here early this year,” Lizzie said, seated at the small iron table near the fading climbing roses. Her books were open and spread before her, although I had a feeling she wasn’t really studying. She’d started homeschooling since moving to France. Only another year and she’d be done. And then maybe we could all go somewhere new. Leave our bubble.
“How’s your French coming?”
“Très bon!”
I couldn’t help but smile. Lizzie always made me feel better, and I was so thankful she was here. I glanced around the garden. My aunt had obviously liked flowers, and being here made me understand her in some way. At the same time I felt sort of sorry for her…being trapped.
“Mom called last night,” Lizzie said. “Was asking after you. She’s got a new boyfriend.”
I tuned her out, having no interest in Mom’s newest man. In truth, the safety was a facade. After all, we couldn’t stay here forever. I couldn’t help but feel like something was going to happen the moment we stepped outside the boundaries of the spell. As terrifying as the thought of leaving had become, there was still a part of me that hungered to escape.
Lizzie started humming some pop song she’d heard in the nearest village. We didn’t have a television or even a radio, as they interfered with the spell around the place. But Lizzie left at times, heading into town with Seb as escort, even to Paris twice. Although I didn’t dare leave, I couldn’t expect her to stay in this prison with me.
“You’re okay here…right, Liz?”
“Yeah! Are you kidding?” She grinned. “It’s awesome.”
I sighed, knowing that Lizzie wouldn’t complain, even under torture. She took the idea of staying positive to a whole new level. “Okay.” If she was happy, I’d take her word for it. I started toward the door, twirling the rose between my fingers.
“Em?”
I paused on the threshold and glanced back. “Yeah?”
“I like being at the cottage…seriously. But…” She took her lower lip between her teeth, a sure indication she was worried about something. “How long do you plan on staying here?”
I knew what she meant. How long before I gave up hope. “As long as it takes.”
She nodded slowly and gave me a tight smile. She thought I
was insane. But that was okay. Heck, maybe I was. I stepped into the cottage, the scent of freshly baked apple pie surrounding me like a warm sweater. Since moving in, Lizzie had decided to become a chef. Fine with me, if it meant I didn’t have to cook.
I’d grown comfortable here, comfortable with the French country shabby chic decor, comfortable with the scent of flowers that wafted into the cottage through the open windows, the chirp of birds that woke me every morning. Yes, I’d grown comfortable, but I knew that becoming content was dangerous. It wouldn’t last.
I moved through the living room and into the bedroom.
“Morning, Owen.” I placed the rose in a vase on the bedside table. “It’s nice outside.” A soft breeze swept in through the open windows and fluttered the white curtains. “You smell that? Almost autumn.”
I moved around the bed and pulled the curtains wider, allowing the sun to enter the room. For a brief moment while looking out onto the rolling green hills that surrounded the cottage, I could pretend. But then I turned to face Owen, and all pretense was gone. He looked so perfect. Too perfect, and that was the problem. He hadn’t lost weight; he hadn’t lost muscle. No, he just lay there like he was sleeping…frozen in time. I swallowed the thick lump of emotion that clogged my throat. It was still hard to look at him…even months later.
I felt a shimmer of awareness right before Seb appeared. He’d been here so often that I knew his energy now. I’d actually grown to rely on his bringing information from the outside world, and keeping us informed on the Consulate. It was a relief knowing we had someone to rely on. And I thanked God that my aunt had allowed a few trusted people through the fairy spell.
“Bonjour, ma chérie.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Anything?”
Seb appeared every day, and every day it was the same question. I shook my head. “Nothing.”
And every day he had the same response. “Soon. I can feel it.”
I smiled tightly and nodded. But every day it was becoming more difficult to agree. I reached out, brushing a lock of hair from Owen’s forehead. The soft hum of Lizzie singing swept in through the open windows. Seb’s gaze went to the garden; he was drawn to her sweet voice.