Page 32 of Blood of Night (The Thorne Hill)

Turning around, I let out a breath. “This is my life, Easton. I’m happy. I know it’s unconventional, but so am I. And not because I’m a witch.” We start walking again. “I thought I’d grow up, eventually find a nice warlock to settle down with and live anormallife hunting lower-level demons on the weekends and attending coven gatherings and celebrating Yule by keeping a log burning all night so spirits don’t come and knock down my Christmas tree. That’s normal to me.”

“My normal isn’t so far off, either.”

“Then you should get it. It’s not fun hiding who you are, and it’s not fun worrying your friends are going to get hurt because of you. My powers are a little unpredictable and Lucas can handle that.”

“I suppose you have a point. You’re not a normal witch and—” He cuts off and looks around. “Weren’t we on a path?”

There isn’t a real path, not yet at least, but there is a worn trail through the weeds from me walking back and forth from the Covenstead to home.

“And since when does Thorne Hill have trees like that?” He points to something that looks similar to a pine tree but is sparse and has funky looking pinecones. “Is that—no, no fucking way.” He pushes forward, reaching out for something that’s hanging off a low branch.

“Easton, no!” I yell and throw out my hand, but it’s too late. He picks up the ugly gold ring, green gemstone glinting in the sunlight. Dizziness crashes down on me and I stumble back, tripping over a twisted tree root sticking out of the ground. My eyes fall shut and I crash to the earth, ears ringing.

The next thing I know, I’m being shaken awake.

“Morning, babe,” the person waking me says.

What the fuck? Slowly, I sit up, but instead of being on the forest floor, I’m in a bed and I’m blinking from bright sunlight that filters through large, floor to ceiling windows, offering a breath-taking view of Chicago and Lake Michigan.

And Easton is shirtless in bed next to me.

ChapterFifteen

Squeezing my eyes shut, I shake my head and then open them again. I’m still in bed. Still next to Easton. The fuck?

“What’s going on?” I ask, throwing the blankets back. “Where the fuck are my pants?”

“You okay, babe?” Easton asks with a laugh. “I think you’re still half asleep.”

“No, we were just…just…” I blink a few times again, trying to think back. Where were we? Something is wrong, I can feel it in my bones, but what?

“I told you that second glass of merlot before bed might not be the best idea.” He gets out of bed, dressed only in boxers. I watch him go over to the window, stretching his arms over his head. He’s tall and muscular, and my eyes go to his left shoulder blade, looking for a scar that isn’t there. I get a flash of it before my eyes and remember reaching out and touching it.

“You were clawed. In the back. By…by…something big.” I shake my head and the memory is gone.

“Your dream was bad then?” He picks up his phone, tapping the screen, and then comes over to the bed.

“I, um…I don’t remember. Something is wrong.”

“Babe, it’s fine.” He pushes my hair back and goes to kiss me, but I turn my head and hold up a hand. “No. I can feel it.”

“You’re just nervous about the presentation but you have nothing to worry about.”

“What presentation?” I stand up and look down at myself. “Why aren’t I wearing pants?”

Easton laughs. “I’d be more concerned if you were wearing pants.” The humor leaves his face when he sees how rattled I am. “Hey, Cal, come here.” He holds out his hand and for some reason, I reach out and take it.

Because I’m supposed to. I want to.

“Are you feeling okay?” He tugs me forward, pulling me into his lap. The feel of his warm skin against me is wrong.

This whole thing is wrong.

But I have no idea why. Easton is right. I’m nervous about today because I have a lot on the line. I’m presenting what I think could be the next break-out best seller to the lead editor and know I have my work cut out for me because the author is unpublished. But the story is so good and I just know everyone is going to want to read about the heroic witch who saves the world from demons by day and goes home to her sexy, brooding vampire-lover at night.

“Yeah. You’re right. Two glasses of wine are way too much for me.” The words feel funny coming out of my mouth. “And as much as I love the story, you know I don’t do well with horror. Freaks me out.”

“Happens to the best of us.” Easton wraps his arms around me and lays down, moving over top of me. I’m supposed to want him, it’s supposed to feel good when he runs his hand down my thigh. Yet something inside of me is recoiling, and I turn my head, closing my eyes when his mouth goes to my neck.

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