Page 37 of Blood of Night (The Thorne Hill)

I hesitate, knowing how stupid going into a bar by myself like this could be. But I need to find out why this place is so familiar. Gripping the strap of my purse, I step inside behind Monica. She quickly shuts the door and I blink a few times, eyes adjusting to the dim light coming from above the bar.

Looking around, I get hit with another wave of familiarity. My eyes go to a booth in the back, and I remember sitting there not that long ago—and Abby was with me.

“You’re not who I ordered.”

I snap my attention to a hall, where another blonde woman is standing. She’s absolutely gorgeous, with her long blonde hair hanging around her face in waves. Her pink dress hugs her slim body and she takes a few steps forward, heels clicking on the floor. She reminds me of a fairy princess, and there’s a weird energy coming off of her making me think that she just might be.

“No, she’s not.” A man appears behind her and my eyes widen as I look at him, taking in his chiseled jawline, full lips, and dark blue eyes. It’s the man I’ve been getting flashes of, and now that he’s here, standing right in front of me, I have the strangest urge to fling my arms around him. Eyes set on me, he speeds forward, almost looking shocked when I don’t flinch. He leans in and inhales. “She’s a witch.”

And then it all comes crashing back. “Holy shit, I am a witch!” I blink and let out a breath. “Lucas. Oh my God, Lucas!” Tears fill my eyes and I go to him, to my husband and envelope my arms around him. His body is hard and cool, and his non-beating heart brings me instant comfort when I press my face to his chest.

And then everything goes black.

ChapterSeventeen

“Morning, babe.”

My eyes fly open and I sit straight up. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Callie? Are you still asleep and having a bad dream?”

“I’m starting to think this is all a dream.”

“What?” Easton asks with a chuckle. “Are you talking in your sleep again?”

“Maybe somewhere.” I turn and look at him, really look at him. “I just can’t figure out if you’re here with me.”

“Of course, I’m here.” Easton takes my hand. “You’re starting to freak me out, babe.”

“I hate being called babe,” I say. “And you remember that from when we dated that summer I was home from the Academy.”

“We’ve dated over lots of summers.”

“No.” I shake my head and flip Easton’s hand over. “You’re supposed to have a scar here.” I run my finger down the pulse point of his wrist. “From when a demon knocked you out, tied you to a table, and tried to drain your blood. We joked it was a good thing he didn’t know to godown the alleyand instead wentacross the streetand your stepdad was able to get to you in time. You lost a lot of blood but still kicked that demon’s ass.”

Easton snatches his hand back, looking rattled. Not because I sound like a crazy person talking about demons, but because he remembers it.

“And I would have a lot of scars,” I go on, holding my arms out in front of me. “But I’m not human. Not fully.”

“Callie,” Easton says slowly, hazel eyes widening. “What—where—what?” He closes his eyes and then grunts in pain, hand going to his head. “Ow, fuck!”

“Easton?” I ask, getting to my feet, but as soon as I feel the carpet against my toes, I get hit with the same pain. It’s happened before, and I remember knocking a glass to the floor in the apartment kitchen.

This has happened before? Oh, shit. If we’re stuck in a loop then—the pain goes away and I look up, blinking.

“That was weird.” Easton is still rubbing his forehead, brows pushed together. “I’m gonna say no more wine after nine PM for both of us.” He chuckles. “When did we become such lightweights?”

“Yeah,” I reply, brain fuzzy. We were in the middle of a serious conversation, weren’t we? It feels almost as if we were fighting and got interrupted and now I don’t know where things stand and the uncertainty of it all is making me anxious.

“You’re not too hung over to rock your presentation, I hope.”

“Nah, I’m good.” I slowly inhale and get up. The presentation. Right. It’s about a book, a book about a witch and her vampire lover and they fight demons and save the world and love each other dearly despite being forbidden to be together.

It’s my favorite book I’ve ever read. And I want to read it again and get lost in the pages because there’s something raw and real and—holy shit.

“Easton,” I say and whirl around. “Please tell me you remember.”

“Remember what?” He cocks an eyebrow. “It’s not our anniversary or anything and other than dinner with Abby tonight, I have nothing on my calendar.”

---