Page 99 of Samhain Savior
“She’s got a beating human heart in her chest,” Mex argued, thrusting the acorn in my direction. “She’ll need some of that blood it’s pumping to get us in the gates.
“Not a fucking chance,” Archer cut in, stepping in front of me. “No harm will come to my mate.”
“How sweet,” Mex deadpanned, rolling her eyes. “I’m not talking about slitting her throat, Archer. Just a few drops splashed on the acorn to consecrate it and then present the offering. Once the spirits decide if they approve, the gates will open and we can stroll right in.”
“Archer,” I said, cutting him off with a hand on his arm. He turned, his dark eyes burning with what looked like concern, and my very human heart warmed. “I’ve got it under control.” When he didn’t look convinced, I went on. “I can do this, Archer. I want to do this.”
More than that, I felt like Ineededto do it. Since the beginning—since the night Heidi had sacrificed herself for my escape—I had felt like I was floating from problem to problem. Never really doing anything, but somehow always finding myself in the way. I was tired of just coasting, relying on Archer and the guys to solve all the problems as they came up. I wanted todosomething. To contribute to the team and have them look at me as more than just a damsel in distress.
“Consecration rituals are literally the only witchy thing I was ever good at,” I teased, resting a hand on his chest and internally begging him to understand. Unsure of what I was doing, I attempted to send my sense of need through the bond, reaching for that tight guitar string feeling in my chest and plucking it in a way I hoped conveyed how desperately I wanted to be helpful for a change.
Archer stared at me, one arm coming around my waist as he debated. I didn’t think he had it in him to back down, though, so I took it one step further.
“Do you have a better plan? Because I’m not certain bulldozing your way in there with brute strength will gain you any favors with the residents.”
“Don’t push me, little witch,” he growled, but I could see his resolve weakening. “I’ll allow—I mean,” he paused, reconsidering, and I pursed my lips to hide the smile that threatened. “I’ll go with you, at least as far as I can, so I’ll be near while you preform the ritual.”
“Thank you,” I said, meaning it. The resulting pulse of pleasure I felt from him was adorable.
Turning back to Mex, I held out my hand, ignoring the curious stare she was tossing at Archer.
“Do you have everything else you’ll need?” she asked, and I nodded, patting my trusty satchel, smiling at having it’s comfortable weight back on my body. “Well, then. Go do witch things,cher.”
With that, she dumped the acorn into my palm and then sent me on my way.
“You don’t have to do this,” Archer said, his voice low as we made our way across the deserted street and toward the gates of the cemetery. The wall was better maintained near the gate, the brick sporting a fresh coat of bright white paint. Peeking between the bars of the iron gate, I could see dozens of standing mausoleums, some barely the size of a household refrigerators, others looking like miniaturemansions, designed to house generations of family members. Each one was beautiful in its own haunting, macabre way, leaving me curious about the people who lay within them.
“Yes, I do,” I said simply, stepping up on to the sidewalk and approaching the gate. I could feel the power of the place, the oldest cemetery in New Orleans giving off intense waves of energy. The hair on my arms stood on end and I could almost taste the ozone.
My own magic responded, crackling to life within me in a way that it never had before. At my chest, Pandora stirred, her own magic waking up for the first time in ages.
What would we find beyond these gates?
“Stubborn witch,” Archer muttered, standing a few steps behind me. “I cannot approach beyond this point without permission,” he growled, his teeth clenched. “If there’s trouble, I won’t be able to help you.” He sounded worried, and that squishy piece of my heart fluttered in response.
“Archer,” I said, turning back to him where he waited on the street. I could see his strain, the way he was fighting against an unseen barrier, pushing and straining to reach me. In my chest, I could feel his panic, the fear that was racing through him, practically choking him. The collar atmy throat responded in kind, vibrating against my skin like an anxious chihuahua.
Taking a breath, I tried to quell his worry, to pull it from his side of the bond and stuff it down inside me. When I could feel he had calmed, I moved back toward him, meeting him at the curb. From my position on the sidewalk I stood a few inches taller, my eyes still nowhere near level with his, but closer. “I can feel you, here.” Lifting my hand, I rested it on his chest, right over the space where my mark sat beneath his clothes. “And I know there are still so many things we need to discuss, but right now, in this moment, all we need is trust. I need you to trust that I can do this, just as I trust you to save me if I can’t.”
He stared down at me, his eyes showing everything he wanted to say, every argument he wanted to make, but to his credit, he made none of them.
Instead, he reached up, placed his hand over mine, and squeezed. The small gesture said so much, and this time I couldn’t stop the smile that broke across my face.
I didn’t even try.
“Thank you,” I said, rising onto my toes to press a kiss to his lips. Surprised, he froze, but only for a moment, before he deepened the kiss, taking everything I had to offer in that fiercely aggressive way of his.
Breaking the kiss, he pulled back, gently trailing his knuckles down my cheek.
“Always.”
Chapter forty-six
Archer
I hated it.
Being so close to my mate and yet so fucking far at the same time was unbearable. The demon inside me wanted to rage and thrash, to tear every obstacle before me with fang and claw until there was nothing preventing me from getting to my witch.
