Page 35 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Five

Episode Eighty-Three

FROSTBITE

The relief is immediate.

I take in a deep breath as Bran wraps his cool hand around the back of my neck driving the sticky sweat from my skin.

The collar is off. I can relax and?—

“Hurry with the unbinding,” Bran says.

“Maybe give her a minute,” Baspin suggests.

“No.” Bran’s fingers press harder at my skin. “We have no time to coddle her. We do this now.”

“Bran. I can’t.” I sob, body trembling as I hunch forward on my knees, arms wrapped around my chest. “Not yet.”

“We can’t wait, Mouse.” He looks over at Rita. “Do it now.”

With a frown, she swivels on her heels and digs into her bag again, producing the jar with my pendant inside. The same one Mom gave me all those years ago.

“Bran. Please.” Tears spill over my lids.

Even though this is what I’ve wanted all along, ever since I learned that Rita bound my powers at my mother’s request, I can’t think beyond the pain.

“You said not to stop, Mouse,” he reminds me. “So we don’t stop. Okay? You have more to give.”

“I can channel some of the pain.” Baspin crouches in front of me. “Give me your hand, Your Highness.”

I don’t balk at the title. I don’t care what he calls me if he can help.

With one hand in Bran’s grip, I give the other to Baspin. His hand is still bleeding, and his hold is hot and slippery, but as soon as our skin touches, warmth floods through me and the pain fades out.

I sway, leaning my weight into Bran’s side.

The relief is sudden and damn near intoxicating, almost like a drug.

“Better, princess?” Baspin asks.

I nod. “Thank you.”

“Go on,” Bran says to Rita.

She sets the jar in front of me and pops off the top. The smell of the magic immediately permeates the air. This magic is different than the magic of the collar. It’s crisper, cleaner, like a sharp winter breeze.

The scent of it stirs something old and forgotten inside of me.

Rita whispers a few foreign words and the nighttime breeze shifts across the garden, rattling the big leaves of an evergreen shrub behind me.

Next, Rita drops the pendant back into the jar, lights a match she pulls from a small box from her pocket, and drops that in too. The jar’s interior ignites with a WHUMP as if it was full of gas. Blue flame licks along the glass, dancing over the rim.

Tingling starts in my fingers like my nerves have fallen asleep. The tingling spreads up my arms, then across my shoulders, down my chest.

Rita slams the jar’s lid closed, hoists it over her head, then brings it down swiftly, smashing it into a thousand pieces on the cobblestone patio.

My body jerks back as if I have no control over it.

Bran locks his arms around me and Baspin grips my hand tighter.