Samhain Resurrected: A Codex Blair Novella Page 3

  To my horror, my voice broke a little, and I realized I was on the verge of tears.

  "And now I don't even know what I want. Part of me wants to forget him entirely, but then part of me also misses him, and I wish I could get some kind of explanation from him and maybe things could go back to the way they were, but I know that's not going to happen. I don't see him giving me any explanation that could justify how he behaved. And to make things even worse, I keep dreaming about him. And then I wake up and I feel really guilty, and I catch myself thinking about him randomly during the day, and I feel even more guilty, because I shouldn't be thinking about and dreaming about someone else while I'm dating you."

  Emily waited patiently for me to finish vomiting words out like a maniac, then she scooted close and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close to her side. I leaned in to her, hiding my face in her hair and breathing in her scent, allowing it to reassure me somewhat.

  "It's all right to dream and think about him, Blair. These are things you can't control, and even if you could, it isn't something I could fault you for. He was a big part of your life for a long time, and he hurt you very badly. Of course you're going to be conflicted in your feelings about him. Of course your subconscious is going to keep pushing him into your mind. You haven't had the closure you need. That's going to leave scars for some time. It's normal, and it's nothing to beat yourself up about."

  "I don't see how you can be so understanding about all of this," I mumbled. "It's not the reaction I expected."

  "Well, I believe everything happens for a reason, and if Malphas is destined to be a part of your life, I'm not going to stand in the way of that, and I'm certainly not going to shame you for it. But I'll always do everything in my power to keep you safe, especially from a man who's hurt you once already."

  I pulled back and smiled at her, brushing at the tears that had brimmed in my eyes.

  "Thanks, Emily. I really appreciate you being so…so kind about all of this."

  She cupped my cheek. "Sweetheart, I love you. Every piece of you. And I don't want you to be ashamed about anything."

  I looked down for a minute, unable to hold her gaze when she was being so sincere and kind. I hadn't expected any of that. Then I looked up and smiled at her again.

  "I love you too, Emily," I said, and leaned forward and kissed her. Her lips were soft against mine, and she tasted like vanilla ice cream, absolutely delicious and a little addictive.

  After a moment, she broke the kiss.

  "I should get going," she said. "Not because anything you've said has upset me, but it's late and I have to work in the morning."

  "Oh, of course!" I disentangled myself from her and stood up. "Thanks for hanging back and talking with me."

  She stood up and walked to the door, and I followed her, dropping the wards so she could get out.

  "Always, Blair. I'll always be here to listen to anything you have to say," she said, smiling at me as she opened the door.

  "Be safe. Call me when you get home so I know you got home safe," I said, then gave her another quick kiss.

  "Of course. I always do," she said, laughing. "Have a good night."

  I watched her walk to her car, waving one more time as she got in and drove away. Only after she was gone did I shut the door, then leaned back against it and surveyed the room.

  I let out a little sigh.

  She was too good for me.

  Three

  I stripped out of my clothes and got dressed for bed, eyeing the bed itself suspiciously. I hoped tonight I wouldn't be visited by dreams of Malphas, not after all the talking I'd just been through.

  "I hope you had a nice evening with your friends," Weylyn said inside my mind. He appeared almost out of nowhere—he'd made himself scarce after the guys had left and Emily and I were alone together.

  "Oh, there you are," I said, responding to him aloud. "Yeah, it was a nice evening. I had a good talk with Emily afterwards."

  "That's good. She's good for you." He made a happy rumbling sound, then padded over to the bed and jumped onto it.

  It did my heart good when Weylyn gave voice to his approval of Emily. Weylyn was possibly the most important person in my life, although I wasn't sure if he counted as a person. Weylyn was my familiar, who took the form of a giant arctic wolf or a rather large husky, depending on where he was and what he had room for. I'd met him when I was going through the trials with the Order to prove I was worthy of training to be a Wizard. He was the best thing that had come out of that.

  "Thanks," I said. "It means a lot that you think so. You know I value your opinion above anyone else's."

  "As you should," he said, sounding rather full of himself.

  I laughed. "Yeah, you think you're all that and a bag of crisps, huh?"

  "Am I not? I thought I was rather impressive," he said, sending the mental impression of laughter.

  "Uh-huh. You're lucky you're cute," I said, but I was grinning at him. I slid under the covers, and he curled up beside me. "You're going to keep the bad dreams away, right?"

  "And what are the bad dreams?" He looked meaningfully at me. "I can't stop you from dreaming about that which is important to you."

  I frowned, rolling onto my side so he couldn't see my face. I hadn't wanted him to actually acknowledge that I dreamed about Mal, because that was embarrassing, but it was my fault for bringing it up in the first place.

  "Just don't let anything try to steal my soul while I'm sleeping. How about that?"

  "Certainly. I will keep you safe, Blair."

  "Thanks, Weylyn."

  He snuggled closer to me, then I closed my eyes, sending up a last wish that my dreams that night would be pleasant.

  The world was dark and fuzzy around me, as if it was a photograph coming into focus. I struggled to make it focus faster, scrubbing at my eyes and looking around, but for a moment I couldn't see anything. Then the world slowly filled in around me. I was sitting on the floor in a room that felt a little familiar, although I couldn't place where I'd seen it before. There was a plush carpet beneath me, and to my right was a king-size bed with what looked like silk sheets and a red comforter. The pillows were red as well, and for some reason, looking at the bed made my breathing quicken.

  Where am I?

  I tried to filter through my memories to place the room, but I couldn't.

  Then I looked from the bed back to the space in front of me, where there was a love seat, and sitting on it was Mal.

  My eyes widened and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of him. He looked like he'd dressed for bed as well: a pair of loose black pants was all he was wearing. His hair, shaggy and black, looked a little mussed, as if he'd been lying down for bed, or perhaps had been woken up.

  A dream. I'm dreaming of Mal again.

  But this was different. I'd dreamed of Mal on and off for the past two years, ever since he'd hurt me in the worst possible way and I'd cut him out of my life. Every time I dreamed about him, it was like I was an invisible observer in his life. I watched him doing a lot of random things. Sometimes he was in the middle of a party, but he never looked like he was enjoying himself. Sometimes he was talking to Lilith, and she was really giving him what-for. And sometimes he was alone, drinking, and he looked so broken that I almost forgot what he'd done and wanted to hold him and make it all OK.

  This wasn't like that at all. This was me, sitting in a room with him, and he looked rather surprised as well.

  "What's going on?" I asked, shifting so I was sitting cross-legged on the floor.

  "Isn't it obvious?" He quirked an eyebrow, and the sound of his voice made my belly flip over. "It's a dream."

  "Why would a dream point out that it's a dream?" I narrowed my eyes.

  "Because you're an intelligent woman with advanced skill in magic. You're quite capable of controlling your dreams. And even if I hadn't told you it was a dream, you'd already figured that out, and if you wanted to leave, you could at any moment. Telling you that I'm
a dream doesn't risk anything for me, because the risk was already present."

  I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest as I thought about that. He had a point. I had already decided this was a dream, so it wasn't like he was telling me anything I didn't already know. And if it was a dream, he was part of my subconscious, so he would know I knew it was a dream.

  Well, now, things were getting a little confusing.

  "I didn't want to dream about you," I said. "I keep dreaming about you, and I don't want to."

  He made a small sound and pressed a hand to his bare chest, drawing my attention to the muscular plane of his chest and abdomen, and my mouth went dry.

  "That hurts me, Blair, that you don't want to see me. I've wanted to see you," he said.

  "You shouldn't. You made it quite clear that you didn't want anything more to do with me the last time we spoke."

  His eyes softened. "And you should know by now that I was full of shit. I miss you. Come here."

  He opened his arms to me, and for a moment, the voice of reason in my head won out.

  Don't do it! Wake up now and try to fall asleep again, to dream of something else. This is bad. Wake up!

  But there was another voice in my head, the voice of my own weakness, and it was a hell of a lot stronger once it started speaking up. It told me this was what I wanted, deep down. I wanted to be with him the way we'd been before, and maybe even more than we'd been before.

  Slowly, I stood up, at first not aware of what I was doing. And then, all of a sudden, I was going to him, about to sit down on the love seat. I hesitated then, and he knew it.

  With a devious smirk, he reached out and took hold of my hips, lifted me as if I were nothing more than a child's toy, and pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him.

  "There you are. That's where you belong," he murmured, his voice husky and his eyelids lowering halfway. There was a hungry look in his eyes.

  "That's not true," I protested, but it sounded weak even to my own ears, and it was completely at odds with the way I settled against him, pressing close to his chest, aching to touch him. My hands roamed over his body, starting at his shoulders and then brushing down to his chest.

  "That's it, baby," he said. "Whatever you want, whatever you need, take it from me."

  I shook my head. "I shouldn't be doing any of this."

  One of his hands drifted up my back to capture the nape of my neck, and he pulled me forward so that his lips were even with my ear.

  "It's just a dream, Blair. There's no harm in giving in to what you crave," he whispered, and a delicious shiver went down my spine.

  The next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, and his hand tightened and held me against him as if he was afraid I might leave. I gasped, surprised, and he thrust his tongue into my mouth as soon as the opportunity arose.

  I moaned at the taste of him, cinnamon and whisky, absolutely intoxicating and leaving me wanting more. The feeling of his lips against mine, his hands on my body, was all I wanted in that moment, and it wasn't enough at the same time.

  There was a hollow feeling inside my body, then I felt heat rush down below, and I whimpered against his lips.

  He groaned, thrusting up against me, giving me the friction I needed so badly.

  "God, Blair, I missed you," he said.

  "Missed you too," I breathed against his lips. "Missed you so much. Need you. Please."

  "As you wish," he whispered. His hands abandoned my back, slid under the oversized t-shirt I had worn to bed, and he cupped my breasts, flicking his fingers over my nipples.

  I moaned at the sharp rush of pleasure. It was as if there was a direct line from my nipples to my pussy, and when he touched them, there was an answering surge of heat and need from below. I arched my back, thrusting my breasts into his hands, begging for more.

  He gave what I needed without question, teasing my nipples while he kissed me senseless. I was lost in the pleasure of his touch, in what I'd been craving for so long.

  I'd wanted him from the first moment I saw him, and though he'd given me every opportunity possible, I'd always denied him. It was wrong, I'd told myself, to consort with a Fallen. It would only lead to pain and heartbreak, and hadn't I been right about that?

  But damn it, I hadn't even gotten to have the fun part before it got bad, and didn't that mean I could take what I wanted now, when it didn't really count? It wasn't like it would hurt anything. It was only a dream, after all.

  I ground myself shamelessly against him, rocking my hips in time to the rhythm he created as he thrust his hips against mine. The friction was delicious, sending bolts of pleasure through me every time we came together, but it wasn't enough. I needed more from him.

  "Mal," I gasped, breaking the kiss. "More. I need more."

  "Take what you need, cher," he said, with blatant lust in his eyes. "Take from me what you need."

  I whimpered. His words turned me on even more, and I reached for him…

  I came awake with a jolt, my back arching not from pleasure but from pain, and a tortured sound escaped my lips. For a moment, I didn't remember the dream I'd been having, I was lost in the sensation of something pulling at my soul and the pain it caused.

  Weylyn was losing it, barking and growling like crazy, and he was completely on top of me now, pinning me down.

  "Weylyn!" I gasped, my voice barely audible. "Weylyn, what's happening?"

  "Something's taking you! Fight it, Blair!"

  "I don't know how!" I sobbed, shaking my head. "Weylyn, I'm scared!"

  I looked down at my body and saw myself start to shimmer. The panic really took hold at that point.

  And the next thing I knew, I was falling to the ground.

  Ground? What?

  I looked around, disoriented and confused, and saw a shrine directly behind me and a crowd of people in front of me. My eyes went wide, and a new sense of terror took hold.

  Where the fuck was I?

  "She's here! Our hero has come!" one of them shouted, and they all started cheering, losing their minds about their hero having come to save the, praising the names of gods I didn't know.

  I stared at them, half-certain they were crazy, and wholly certain I was in a hell of a lot of danger.

  Four

  As one, the villagers rushed around me, and panic took hold of me for a second.

  "Get back!" I snapped, jumping to my feet. "Don't touch me."

  The ones closest to me halted, a look of confusion on their faces, and the ones behind them had to stop as well to avoid trampling their friends.

  "All right, that's good. Let's all just keep a nice amount of distance between us," I said, holding up my hands, feeling slightly better. Having a mob rush at you seconds after being yanked from your bed and dropped on the ground isn't exactly a reassuring situation to find yourself in. "Now, what the hell is going on?"

  A murmur went through the crowd, and there was a shifting in it as some of them moved out of the way to allow a particular person to come through. I assumed this was their leader, because he was an old man who was dressed rather nicely, and he had a wise look about him.

  Good. Probably someone I could reason with and get some answers as to what was going on and why I'd been brought here.

  "You're the man in charge?" I asked.

  "Indeed I am," he said, bowing his head to me.

  "All right, well, who yanked me out of bed?" I asked. "A little forewarning so I could get dressed would have been nice."

  Because I was wearing an oversized t-shirt that went down to my thighs, and panties; that was it. And let me tell you, that does not make a person feel very confident.

  "I am terribly sorry for the intrusion, lady," he said, sounding truly apologetic. "But the Shrine called to you. You see, it was prophesied that a woman of winter with hair as white as snow and eyes like ice would save us from the Slaugh. And here you are! Just as the prophecy said."

  Damn it, my hair had never gotten me into trouble before, but now I wi
shed I'd died the damned mop black.

  "Listen, that's cool and all, but you've got the wrong person. I don't even know what the Slaugh are."

  "The Slaugh are spirits of Samhain. They are the evil so terrible that no afterworld would take them, no gods would touch them, and for the past century we have been blessed in that they have been kept at bay by the Shrine of Moira. Moira was a powerful priestess of our people who gave her life so that her soul would be contained within the Shrine to protect us from the Slaugh. She lives on within the Shrine to this day. But now, the spirits have been resurrected, we know not how. They have attempted several times to come at us, but they are still weak. Though they have freedom of movement, their power is still limited, and they cannot battle the Shrine on their own. We have reason to believe that they have corrupted a Dullahan to kill the Shrine and set them fully free. If they are freed, they will take the souls of the weak and innocent to be tortured until the end of time. Please, my lady, you must save us."

  "Whoa, now," I said, shaking my head. "That's a hell of a lot to take in, but let's assume I got all of that. Only, what in the world is a Dullahan, and why is it so bad that they got one of them?"

  It wasn't even close to the craziest thing I'd heard that a bunch of evil spirits were descending on a town and were going to kill all of its inhabitants; that was a regular Tuesday for me. But it sounded like the Dullahan part of it was bad, and was potentially a deal-breaker.

  My question appeared to make some of the villagers anxious, because another murmur went through the crowd, and they started turning to one another with disbelieving looks on their faces.

  "How can she truly be the one, Jameson? She doesn't know of the evils that plague us."

  "She is wrong, Jameson, wrong in some way. She isn't the one to save us. We're doomed!"

  "We're all going to die!"

  "Hey," I snapped, hands on my hips. "I didn't say I wouldn't help you. I just need some info if I'm going to do that."

  "Be at ease," Jameson said, turning to the crowd and holding his hands up placatingly. "Just because she has not come prepared with knowledge doesn't mean she is not the one to save us. We need only to give her what she needs. She will have the other tools to do the job."