The wall clock indicated it was nearly two in the morning.

After I had sufficiently vomited my repulsion, I slipped off my blood-soaked and torn dress and washed it  as much as I could in the tub. It was still stained and ripped after I wrung the water out and hung it over a towel rail. Then I took a long, hot bath, standing still under the streaming water as I replayed every memory I had of tonight that I knew was going to be engraved in my mind forever.

They seemed like scenes from an exhilarating thriller movie I just watched—emotionally-involving yet still seemingly removed from my typical reality.

I finally stepped out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror, examining my injuries.

I was surprised to not feel any broken bones but my right cheek was bright red from having been smacked there and a long patch of red ran from my right shoulder down to my hip. My knees were blistered and tender as well from the long crawl through the tunnel. An angry red line was drawn across my ribcage from the nearly falling off of the basement trap door. I had scrapes and small cuts on my arms, legs and face from rolling around the field and running through the weeds and grass. My muscles were tender and my joints ached—they would be unforgiving tomorrow.

Tears lined my eyes but I stubbornly brushed them away.

I was alive—I at least had to be grateful about that. The battle scars were merely reminders that survival hadn’t come easy.

With all my underwear hanging dry along with the dress, I grabbed a fluffy, white terry-cloth robe and wrapped it around my naked body. It had the silvery blue monogram of a scripted M on the chest pocket and it came with matching slippers.

I let my damp hair hang dry on my back as I paced back and forth in the room, anxious to find out what else had happened but I kept telling myself to do exactly as Tristan told me.

I decided to busy myself with cellphone and I was surprised to find a text message from Jesse that said: Another tummy ache? This one felt a little worse than the last one. Hope things are okay.

I briefly wondered why he didn’t call if he was worried about me. Then I realized he knew I became okay because although I wasn’t sure if this was true about all twins, Jesse and I would know if the other died, the same way, I assume, we instinctively know that the other is alive and well.

I typed up my reply to him—just a brief reassurance that things were fine. 

I felt guilty at the whites lies I had gotten comfortable whipping out to people whenever necessary but I felt that I could only do them worse by telling them the truth. After tonight, I decided that no one else was going to get dragged down this dangerous road.

It was too late for me to turn around now and run back—I have seen, heard, learned and done too much. I was fully initiated and walking away was going to be impossible. I couldn’t go on in life pretending none of this ever happened.

Tristan happened, I thought with a long, weary sigh as I stood by the window that overlooked the vast fields on this side the house. There was nothing but darkness all the way to the horizon where a deep indigo sky started its sweep of glittering stars.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door.

I turned just as Tristan stepped in, freshly showered and wearing a pair of jeans and a white shirt. His hair was wet and slicked back, his face clean except for a thin cut just right above his left brow.

“Hey,” I said softly, not sure what there was to say after all that had just happened.

“Hey,” he replied as he slowly closed the door behind him and jammed his hands into his front pockets. He seemed uncertain himself.

After an awkward moment of silence, I stepped forward. “So I take it that they’re gone? All of them?”

He shrugged. “We tried to keep a couple of them alive so we could interrogate them. We think Houdin was primarily hired to spy on me but it became personal for him when we started killing off his little army.”

I frowned. “Did you get any information on who might have sent him? Did his minions tell you anything?”

He shook his head and exhaled sharply. “They’re as useless as rabid dogs without their maker. They’re incapable of staying coherent. Even the Stellars had trouble. We had to put them down.”

My gaze lowered as I nodded in understanding. “Like rabid dogs.”

“Ollie,” he said in a pained voice and I looked up at him again. His voice matched his expression. “I know you’ve probably never laid a hand on anybody in your entire life but I don’t want you beating yourself up after tonight. We live in a world where fighting back could be your only chance of survival. They came to us. We did what we had to do.”

The image of Houdin’s head being ripped off flashed in my mind again and I bit my lower lip before it could tremble.

“I’ve never seen so much violence,” I admitted, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I looked up to him. “Did we lose anybody?”

His eyes were somber but he stayed where he was. “One vampire named Allen and an old demon friend Ulrick.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, unable to comprehend what it must feel like to be fighting side by side your friends and lose some of them. “This is all my fault.”

“And why would you say that?” 

“I told you about Duds Packett’s death and got you looking for who was responsible,” I answered. “Then they came to attack me so you had to kill them. Then they just kept coming after that.”

I slowed down my talking as hysterical tears threatened. 

I swallowed them back and took a deep breath.

“If you’re done taking parts of the blame, let me talk.” His voice was curt. “Everything started because I moved here in Willow. I have enemies, Ollie. Having you in the picture wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“Why do you have enemies, Tristan?” I asked, daring to look him in the eye. “What did you do?”

He regarded me with a hard stare. “It’s easy to make enemies in my world, Ollie. You could make many by choosing not to have any. It’s complicated but the less you know about it, the better off you’ll be.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You told me either I know nothing or everything. You either keep me entirely in the dark or be out with it.”

His eyes darkened. “After the stunt you pulled tonight, I decided that the less you know, the less likely you are to be able to do anything about it.”

“I said I was sorry!” I snapped, getting up and marching up to him. “I know I’m only a helpless, little human who gets in the way but not knowing was worse than getting thrown around.”

“What you did to Houdin didn’t seem like something a helpless, little human was capable of,” he remarked meaningfully. “None of us can figure it out. The best theory Arabella could come up with was that the poison not only let them access your mind as a sounding board, it also let you access their minds which means access to Houdin’s mind since he controls all of them. How did you make him crouch down in pain like that?”

I shrugged. “I really don’t know. I just knew I didn’t want him to stab you. Every part of me rebelled against it but I don’t know what happened next. The voices and the pain in my head disappeared and were replaced by this acute awareness of everything around me. I could hear practically every heart beat from within a two-mile radius.”

I looked up to him warily. “What do you think I did, Tristan? What have I turned into?”

He studied me for a moment before shrugging. “It’s probably just the poison. It was Houdin’s ace and axe. It should wear off after a few days.”

I nodded acceptingly. “What will happen to all the human guests who came and left?”

“They’ll be back late tomorrow morning,” he answered. “I’m throwing a big brunch.”

My eyes widened. “After your entire front lawn got trashed and had dozens of dead were-demons bleeding everywhere?”

He smiled. “Ah, you still underestimate the power of magic, Ollie. We’ve been cleaning up after ourselves for centuries. Nothing gets business down—not even a were-demon invasion.”

His humor lightened me up and I managed a small smile. “I’m glad your business isn’t going to suffer for it. God knows that’s going to piss you off.”

“No. What’s going to piss me off is if I find you gambling with your life again like that,” he bristled, his agitation finally showing. “I swear, Ollie. Next to Houdin, I wanted to kill you for your stupidity. Your stubbornness  is insufferable.”

I opened my mouth to automatically defend myself but I watched his face—the weariness in his eyes and the anxious line his mouth formed—and decided to drop it.

I took a step closer to him and tentatively put a hand on his chest.

“I’m sorry, Tristan.”

He put his own hand over mine and used his other hand to tilt my chin up.

“That’s going to bruise,” he said, gently brushing the back of his hand against my swollen cheek.

“Any other injuries?” he inquired, his eyes gazing into mine so deeply I could see the emotions flicker behind his fiery blue gaze.

I bit my lip and shook my head. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie, Ollie,” he said with an effort at patience. “Show me.”

I lowered my head and loosened the belt of the robe. I slowly pushed at the right sleeve, dropping it below my shoulder.

“It’s nothing,” I said as he touched the tender skin, drawing a quick gasp from me. “It’ll fade in a few days.”

I tugged at the sleeve to pull it back up but in a quick motion, he pulled that part of the robe loose, exposing my right breast completely. But he paid no attention to it. He gently turned me to the side and slid the sleeve off of that arm to further look at my back.

I heard his strained intake of breath and I nibbled at my lower lip worriedly.

“It could’ve been much worse,” I heard him say as he slipped an arm behind my waist and pulled me closer, his chin tucking just above my right ear. “It could’ve been much worse.”

I wanted to assure him that I knew that but I hesitated. He sounded like he was telling himself and not me.

“Tristan,” I whispered, lifting my head to look at his face. “It’s okay. We’re fine. Stop worrying about me.”

“You could’ve died,” he whispered back, his hand sliding up to the side of my face as he pressed his forehead against mine. “I could’ve lost you. Dammit, Ollie. What are you doing to me?”

I opened my mouth to try and answer but he took that opportunity to kiss me.

His mouth was urgent yet sensual—coaxing, probing and promising more.

My eyes fluttered close as I dropped my arms to my side, letting him untie the belt completely and slip the robe down until it dropped to my feet.

I shivered at my nakedness but Tristan’s arms quickly wrapped around me.

My bruised muscles protested at the pressure but I didn’t mind them. The ardent kiss was sending sensations that were electrifying every nerve ending in my body.

I tugged at his shirt, sliding my hands under the thin cotton fabric to trace the ridges of his sculpted chest and stomach.

With a quick break in the kiss, he pulled his shirt off and quickly carried me to the bed.

He stood and watched me for a torturous moment as his eyes grazed every naked inch of me, darkening with undisguised desire.

I groaned inwardly. Of all days to be scrutinized by a beautiful man like Tristan, it had to be the day I was bruised and battered and scraped all over.

But I was quickly distracted from my misery as Tristan unzipped his jeans and slid them off along with what I spied was some kind of underwear under it.

I watched as he stood there stark naked—perfectly formed and perfectly hard—like a god basked in the soft glow of the lamps around the room. His shoulders were broad, his arms long and muscled, his chest powerful and prominent, his stomach rippling with hard muscles that tapered to narrow hips, his legs long and strong.

I shivered at the sight of the most distinguishable part of his anatomy at that moment—it was more than proportionate to a man of his size.

He climbed up the bed, the mattress sinking at his weight a bit, and I pushed myself to meet his hungry mouth.

It was a frenzy of sensations as his hands and mouth moved to explore my body—touching, kissing, nibbling, sucking, tasting—and it culminated in a moment of shocked pleasure when he found his way between my legs.

I had never been this intimate with anyone before and I’d never felt such wildfire licking me below there in incredible synchrony with Tristan’s tongue and fingers.

My eyes squeezed shut at the pure agony of the pleasure.

I gasped in protest when his mouth and fingers left all of a sudden and when I opened my eyes, I saw him right on top of me, braced to take more.

I trembled as he gently encouraged my thighs further apart, my feet tucking behind his legs.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Ollie,” he whispered as he traced his tongue around my ear and guided the tip of him to where I was ready and aching. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

And then he thrust forward.

He wasn’t all the way in but the size of him overwhelmed me that I cried out in pain as I felt myself tear and I curled up and dug my fingernails on his shoulder.

His eyes were wide with shock as he looked at me and glanced below our entwined bodies, the slight wetness betraying my secret.

“Ollie, no. You didn’t tell me you’re—”

“Ssh, it’s okay,” I smothered his words away with a kiss, clutching his arms so he couldn’t move away. “It was just for a second. I’ll be alright.”

He hesitated. “Ollie...”

“Please, Tristan.”

I couldn’t believe I just heard myself beg a man to make love to me but I couldn’t stop—not now. I couldn’t give him up even if all the reason in the world told me I should. I already came too close to losing him.

He lowered me back down on the bed and kissed me tenderly as he lifted his hips and introduced more of himself deeper into me, slowly and carefully, inch by inch, second after second.

By the time he was fully and completely inside me, I nearly wept with joy.

The pain was a fading memory as he slowly moved inside me, testing my limits, watching me watching him. 

I smiled and raised my hips tentatively to meet his rhythm and it wasn’t long until I was being carried away in waves of pleasure. His movements picked up momentum and he was quickly losing his own control.

My heartbeat flooded my ears as I arched back and gripped the sheets, the dizzying explosion of sensations pulsating through every inch of my body.

His own passion rumbled in his chest as he thrust deeper into me. He straightened up and tensed and I watched his muscles strain and flex with the force that was coursing through him as he reached his release.

Spent, he collapsed on top of me and I whimpered at the pressure his weight was heaving on my bruised muscles.

“Sorry,” he murmured against my hair, rolling over to his side and shifting me on top of him.

He brushed the hair away from my face and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. “Are you okay?”

I attempted the best nod I could manage. “More than okay. I’ll probably feel like I’ve been run over by a truck tomorrow but it’ll be worth it.”

He smiled. “That was pretty darn amazing.”

I grinned sleepily as I leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. “If I say so myself.”

He turned me over to his left so that I laid on my uninjured side, his left leg sliding over my own legs.

I rested my head on his arm and traced my fingertips on the planes of his smooth chest.

“You’re really beautiful, Ollie,” he said, catching a lock of my hair with his fingers. 

I smirked. “Minus the scrapes and bruises.”

“Ah, but they only highlight what there is to you beyond the exquisite face,” he said in amusement. “I don’t want to see them on you but they do remind me of how exasperatingly stubborn and painfully brave you can be.”

I looked into his eyes. “Thank for getting all the innocents out of here earlier. And for saving my neck—again.”

He smiled. “It’s a beautiful neck. It would’ve been a shame if I didn’t.”

My cheeks flushed. “You know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” he said with a new rawness in his voice as his hand travelled down to my naked breasts before continuing further south.

I glanced down at his large hand resting between my legs and then met his eyes. His intentions were clear.

And for the second time that early morning, he made love to me again, lifting me on top of him this time and letting me take the reins.

It was quite a different experience being on top, watching what we were doing, pacing the movements however I liked, feeling like I had all the power in the world to make a man like Tristan Black cry out in lustful bliss.

We folded into each other at the end of it, worn and still trembling with the aftershocks of sex.

I held his gaze for as long as I could but my entire body was shutting down in sated exhaustion.

I fell asleep. 

Despite tonight’s events, I was gloriously happy.

***

I knew it was late in the morning by the time I stirred.

I could feel it in the heat of the sunshine seeping into the room. 

I pushed the covers off of me, lifting my head up only to stare a sea of crisp white fabric that reflected most of the sunlight. I looked around and Tristan was nowhere in sight. 

I started to feel disappointed but as I pulled his pillow under my chin, I found the note he’d scribbled on on the Mansion’s official stationery next to a single daisy with dark pink petals and a bright yellow center. 

I’m sorry to leave your side but brunch is on its way. Take the potion Arabella left for you so you heal quickly. There are clothes and shoes by the armchair. Come down when you’re ready. -Tristan

I smiled and picked up the flower, brushing the soft petals against my nose.

Then I got off the bed, swiping the robe I dropped on the floor last night and the small bottle of Arabella’s magic which had been left on the night stand.

I walked to the bathroom, stopping by the armchair to inspect the dress he draped over the wicker armchair. It was sunny yellow and cotton with thin straps, a tapered waist and a full skirt that skimmed that would skim just a couple of inches above my knees. There was a white knit cardigan with it and a pair of white, slingback wedge sandals. I briefly wondered how he expected me to hide all of my injuries from last night in these clothes and how in the world he supplied himself with clothes and shoes that fit me perfectly.

“Magic, he would say,” I mused out loud as I walked into the bathroom to inspect myself on the mirror.

I froze.

There was not a single nick or discoloring on me.

I glanced at the bottle of Arabella’s potion and slowly set it down on the counter. It was still full to the brim. I didn’t take anything last night to speed up my healing. In fact, I had every certainty I was going to feel like hell today but I felt surprisingly well-rested, the pain on my muscles and joints gone.

“What is happening to me?” I asked in the silence of the room, studying my reflection. I turned around and looked over my shoulder and saw that my side and back looked perfectly normal. I shook my head in disbelief.

Deciding to dwell on it later when I could find somebody with answers, I washed up without getting my hair wet and found my underwear fully dried and clean. I hopped into them and put my strapless bra on before pulling the dress over my head and zipping its side close. I didn’t have any make up with me except my compact  and lipstick still in the clutch. The powder inside had been shattered from last night’s adventures but I was still able to dab the sponge on it and patted it around my face. I dabbed some lipstick on my cheeks and lips to get some color back. My hair was a bit unruly so I braided it loosely on the side and hung it over one shoulder.

I found a text message Mary Anne had sent earlier that morning saying they were going to open the bakeshop much later in the day because everyone was going to the brunch and that she would and Patrick would see me there. She probably thought I had spent the night with Tristan—which I did—and didn’t want to call and disturb me.

I left the room and found my way down the staircase, towards the sounds of conversation and smell of food outside of the mansion. 

The brunch was out on the stone patio and the gardens where several tables were spread around the area with a few, large buffet tables in place. 

I stopped by the doorway, watching the excited, happy crowd enjoying the clear blue skies and sunshine. It was unbelievable that there was not a trace of last night’s attack. Guests were enjoying their food, the restaurant staff was busy making rounds and even the housekeeping crew was back as I picked them out walking back and forth in their blue and white uniforms.

“Miss Ollie!”

I turned and saw Stigger walking up to me with a big smile on his tanned face. He was in dark jeans and a blue and white plaid shirt. “Are you feeling better? Looks like Arabella’s magic worked on you again. You look nothing like you did last night.”

I smiled back at him as he escorted me out to the festivities. “Yeah, I’m feeling much better. I’m amazed at how you all turned this whole thing around.”

Stigger scratched his head and laughed. “Miss Veronica is an expert at this. It’s not the first time she had to fix up a situation for us. That’s why Tristan calls her for these things all the time even if she charges a fortune.”

I glanced up at him. “Aren’t you worried about having regular guests check in here with all these things just below the surface?”

He shook his head. “Nah, we’ve been doing this for too long. Tristan owns hundreds of hotels and resorts, did he tell you that? He’s had a lot of time to acquire them and perfect the dual-purpose system. The man’s a genius at this.”

My eyes widened. “I had no idea. He doesn’t talk about himself a lot.”

Stigger nodded in understanding. “Tristan is a complicated man. Give him time. He will open up. He cares about you, you know? He’s not always good at showing it but this is one of the few things he hasn’t had a lot of practice on.”

I stared at Stigger. His expression was open and honest and almost imploring. Tristan was both his friend and boss and his loyalty was unwavering. 

I smiled at him and patted his arm. “He’s very lucky to have you for friends. You always have his back.”

“Well, he’s got ours so it’s natural.” He nodded towards one of the tables. “He’s over there. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks, Stigger,” I told him before I walked towards the table where Tristan was standing by, talking and laughing with the guests who were all seated there.

“Ollie! Hi!” 

I recognized Mary Anne and her son Kyle and Patrick and Will sitting on that same table with a bunch of other familiar people.

“Where have you been? Tristan here has been telling us about the circus performer he once had as a guest in his resort in Costa Rica,” she said, beaming at me as I fell on a step next to Tristan who looked handsome and unscathed, clad in jeans and a light blue, buttoned-up shirt with casually rolled up sleeves.

I grinned at them, offering no explanation as Tristan put an arm around me and pressed a quick kiss on my hair.

Patrick winked at me and they all listened to Tristan finish the story. Apparently, that performer seemed to have supernatural abilities bending different parts of his body into different positions and with Tristan telling the story, it probably was literally true—those abilities must’ve been supernatural.

We bid them a quick goodbye as I felt my stomach rumble for food. We walked to one of the tables where I loaded on pancakes being made right there on a hot griddle by one of the kitchen staff and some bacon strips, scrambled egg and fresh fruits.

“Want some coffee?” Tristan asked as he poured me a cup and looked around at the flavor offerings that went beyond sugar, milk and cream. 

“Maybe a little bit of hazelnut flavor and half and half,” I told him and waited as he stirred the concoction into the steaming mug. He lifted it carefully to my lips and I took a quick sip. I nodded in approval.

He led me to a large, half-empty, rectangular table where three teenage girls were eating on one end of it. I recognized them to be the same twits—Abbie or Allie and her minions—who had been pestering me at the bakeshop about Tristan and they were now looking at me critically.

As juvenile as it may sound, I smiled at them and leaned forward to kiss Tristan lightly on the lips but he captured my face in his hands and kissed me a little more deeply, a soft sigh escaping my lips.

“I’m glad Ara’s potion worked so well and so quickly on you,” he murmured against my ear, his thumb brushing the part of my cheek that was bruised and swollen last night. “I wish you had the same self-healing capability as some of us but you look as perfect as you always have been so I’m not complaining.”

I caught his hand in mine and bit my lip. “Um, about that. I didn’t take Ara’s potion, Tristan. I was hoping you could tell me why I woke up without a single scratch.”

His eyes widened but he kept his face angled towards me alone. “You did?”

I nodded. “I don’t know if it’s the poison but that’s the only explanation I could think of. It’s handy because I feel brand new but it’s starting to worry me that it might manifest further into other things.”

He squeezed my hand. “We’ll have to look into it. Were-demon poisons can be deadly if not healed and eventually your system just gets rid of it. But Houdin’s done too many experiments with himself that it’s hard to know. Don’t worry about it right now. But if anything else feels different, tell me right away.”

“I will,” I promised him, taking a sip of my coffee.

“Tristan, can we talk?” 

We looked up and found Devon standing there with Diana, both radiant beauties under the sunlight. 

“How are you doing, Ollie?” Devon asked, inclining his head slightly. “Feeling better?”

I nodded. “Yes. I feel great actually. How are you both doing?”

“We’re doing great, thank you,” Devon answered with a smile but his manner was formal and I could feel a bit of edginess from him. “Do you mind if I borrow Tristan for a few minutes? We’ll be in his office. Diana can keep you company for the meantime.”

I exchanged glances with Tristan whose expression had become guarded. He stood up and leaned to press a quick kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

I watched the two of the them walk away, nearly identical figures from a distance with Tristan being a few inches taller and his blond hair darker. I didn’t take my eyes off of them until they disappeared into the house.

“Don’t worry, Ollie. They’re just going to talk,” Diana assured me as she took Tristan’s seat. She was a very pretty girl with long, pale blond hair and hazel eyes and she looked especially sweeter in her pale pink peasant blouse and faded jeans. 

“What’s there to talk about?” I asked warily as I speared a slice of bacon with my fork. I glanced at the teenage girls who were getting up and picking up their plates.

“A lot of things,” Diana answered. “After last night, Devon has to remind Tristan of the rules. No innocents should be involved in dangerous otherworldly business. You nearly got killed last night.”

I frowned. “That was my own doing. Tristan tried to keep me safe. I went looking for trouble myself.”

Diana eyed me meaningfully. “Because you’re too attached to him. Devon worries that it will get you into more trouble. Last night isn’t going to be last time something like this will happen. There’s a lot of unrest in the underworld, Ollie. A war is brewing and Tristan is smack right in the middle of it.”

My brows raised in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Diana pressed her lips together. “I’m not in a position to tell you a lot of things, Ollie. All I can tell you is to look after yourself. Tristan’s usually a pretty good guy but he’s in a difficult situation. They’re going to keep coming after him and how you’ve been close to him lately makes you an easy and likely target. As romantic and noble as it may seem in movies and books, Devon’s not going to let you die for love. Not even for his...”

Diana’s voice caught and her words trailed off but she quickly recomposed herself. “Not even for Tristan. Just be careful, Ollie. Please.”

And before I could ask her any more questions, Diana got up and rushed off, leaving me agape and staring at my breakfast, quickly losing interest in it.

Apparently, just like any sordid reality, my happiness was going to be short-lived. 

If there was a war looming in the future, I was intent on fighting it by Tristan’s side.

As I glanced over my shoulder and saw that neither he nor Devon have yet emerged, I felt a tiny seed of doubt burrow itself in my heart. 

The bigger question is, will Tristan let me?