Page 20 of Protecting His Vampire Mate

“What I want is for this to not have happened to him,” I murmured, frowning down at Lee Chamberlain’s body. Forty-six was too young—it didn’t seem fair. He should have still had decades in front of him. Plus, he had left behind a wife and a child. He would miss so many things.

Then a thought occurred to me, and I glanced back up at Tobias, my eyes widening as I realized that magic might be able to fix this, after all. “Wait. You’re a warlock. You can do spells. Can’t you—”

“No.” Tobias actually took a small step back from me, going slightly paler. He winced. “Uh, no. Sorry. Magic isn’t super great at bringing people back from the dead.”

The way he said it made me wonder if he’d ever tried that before.

“Right,” I breathed, shaking my head. “If it could, you guys would have just brought back everyone I—”

I swallowed around the sudden burning lump in my throat, and I blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over without any warning at all. If my cheeks could have burned with embarrassment, they definitely would have. The names of the witches and warlocks I had killed echoed in my mind.

Teresa, Phoebe, Dorian, Dawn, Killian, Abigayle—

“Bryan,” Tobias said, bringing me back to reality. And I realized that I loved the way my name sounded on his lips, way more than I should have. “We can talk about it, if you want.”

Something froze solid deep inside me. I blinked away more wetness, before it could spill over. A part of me wanted nothing more than to talk to him. He was my mate and, if I was being completely honest, I knew it. I could feel how true it was. And it wasn’t like I was completely immune to that fact or anything.

But what I wanted from him—what I wanted, in general, was impossible.

I wanted him to make it so that I’d never had my will robbed from me in the first place. So that I had never been forced to take away the lives of innocent people. So that months of my life hadn’t been stolen from me. So that my head wasn’t filled with the horrible memories of the things I had done.

But what then?

Telling him would mean letting him in. It would mean letting him get close to me. And I couldn’t do that. Not just for me. But for him, too. Because, even though I was mightily annoyed with him, I knew that Tobias was good.

He deserved far, far better than me. He deserved someone who wasn’t drenched in blood. Someone who could be trusted. Someone who was still a good person. Someone like him. Not like me.

“There are no marks on the body,” I told him, pulling the sheet back over Lee Chamberlain. “And if you can’t bring him back, then we should at least make sure that he’s the last victim.”

“Right,” Tobias agreed, watching me. I knew he wanted to say more but was biting his tongue. Probably a smart move on his part. He added, “This is your show. What do you propose?”

“Well, I need my stuff back, for starters.”

His expression darkened. “You’re not going back into that house by yourself.”

Relief coursed through me. Because I had just navigated our conversation out of very, very dangerous waters. And I could deal with Tobias when he was all annoyed and protective. But I definitely couldn’t deal with him when he was soft and open and wanting to talk about our feelings.

“No one said I was going in alone,” I replied sweetly. “You’re my bodyguard now, right? So, we’re going in together. Can your magic at least shield me long enough to grab my book?”

He let out a bark of laughter. “Your book?”

I shrugged. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law. I’ll give it back eventually.”

Tobias rolled his eyes at me. “Yeah, I can cover you long enough for you to get the book back. And you’re damn right, you’re giving it back. Preferably before it gets you killed.”

*

As it turned out, getting the book back took almost no effort.

For me, at least.

Tobias and I walked into the house on Pickery Road together, with Tobias muttering a spell behind me the whole time. Everything was right where I had left it, the book completely undisturbed and still open to the passage on manifesting sigils.

The rest of the house, however, had reset itself. The ashes on the floor were gone, except inside the protective ring I had drawn. The manifesting sigils were still where I had drawn them too. But the furniture was back where it should have been. The knives were nowhere to be found. The kitchen floor looked freshly swept. Nothing looked out of place, except that the coffee table was now missing.

Goosebumps broke out on my arms.

How was this ghost so powerful?

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