Page 19 of Magpie

I come to in an unfamiliar bedroom. I’m standing, staring at a wall, blinking against the dim light flickering from the sconces, casting the room in a deep orange glow.

There is a splashing sound coming from behind me, but I don’t pay attention to it.

My mind slowly swims back to me. With a sigh, the tension leaves my body.

Alister didn’t lie when he told me the first few days would be difficult, but he was wrong about it only being the first few days.

I find myself slipping in and out of awareness, blinking from one room to the next with little understanding of how I came to be there.

But I did as Alister commanded, and I let go of my life before.

At least, I’m trying to. Because every time that spiraling panic reaches up to grab me, I find myself drifting further into the hazy void.

If I shove down that fear, that rising anxiety, then I am able to stay present, fully aware of my mind.

I’m getting better at ignoring those pressing feelings, and the time between stretches of unawareness is growing longer, but I still find myself coming awake in strange surroundings.

Which is easy to do, considering how big the house is.

I have spent the last several days wandering the vast halls, climbing and descending staircases, filing in and out of the many rooms. I have not come across a single other resident in my endless hours of searching the place.

Alister has mentioned the rest of his creations many times, and I thought I surely would have run into one of them by now.

But the halls remain empty in my silent vigil.

Still, as I look around at the walls and their various shelves, I do not recognize the room I’m in. I give myself another shake, dislodging the last wispy tendrils of the fog, before I turn to find the exit.

And come face to face with a naked man.

His blood-red eyes widen as they behold me.

He’s frozen like a statue, standing with a towel pressed to his still-dripping hair.

It is not his maroon eyes that have mine lingering on his face, but rather the living shadows that roam over him, making it look like he has the markings of a skeleton tattooed across his skin.

They shift and fade, never quite staying in place, but the darkness around his eyes is always there.

I find myself taking a cautious step forward, drawn to him.

The wide-eyed look of shock slides off his face, replaced with a crooked, cocky smile as he continues to rub the towel through his hair, moving by me and heading to the dresser on the other side of the room.

All at once, I become aware of how I’m staring.

“I’m so sorry,” I squeak, bolting from the room.

“I’m not,” he calls after me, his laugh dancing down the hallway as I scurry away.

I make my way back to my room, only stopping when I have the door shut and I’m leaning against it.

Images of his hard body, his sculpted muscles, and those shifting, shadowy tattoos that give him a ghostly appearance swirl in my mind.

I touch my face, feeling my cheeks burning—the first hint of warmth I’ve felt outside of Alister’s embrace.

Letting out a puff of breath, I turn and head toward the bed, where I have a stack of old books that Alister gave me.

He told me to study them, to prepare me for something, but he won’t give me any more information than that.

Determined to get the hard body of that man out of my mind, I flop down on the bed and pull the stack of books toward me.

I’ve just read the same sentence four times in a row, images of deep red eyes and a crooked smile filling my mind and distracting me, when my door snicks open.

I stiffen, glancing up, and let out a sigh of relief when I see Alister leaning against the doorframe, observing me.

I’m reminded of the brief heat in my cheeks, the first fleeting feeling away from Alister’s touch, the thought refusing to leave my mind.

“Will I ever feel again?” I ask, flipping through the pages of the spell book in my lap. Alister said the words will make themselves known to me when I’m ready, but so far all I see is shifting ink.

“Do you want to?”

I pause, my eyes lingering on a sliding, dancing series of swoops and swirls that refuse to stay still. Do I want to feel again? It seems odd that I do not, but I can’t find any pressing desire to leave the numbness behind. Still, I find myself saying, “I don’t want to always be cold.”

“You’re never cold in my arms, Magpie,” he whispers, his velvety voice tracing down my skin, but still I frown, staring at the page and not looking up.

“But I am not always in your arms. More often than not I’m left to wander this huge, confusing house alone . Where are the other people who live here?” I blurt out, carefully not mentioning the man I ran into this afternoon. Closing the book, I stand and move to cross the room to him.

He steps inside and shuts the door. “Would you like to meet them?” he asks, holding a hand out to me. There is a devilish glint in his eyes, a wicked curl of a smile. The sight is entirely wild, untamed. My mouth is hanging open from my unspoken words, and I snap it shut, my mind whirling.

Do I want to meet them?

I’m not sure I’m ready to greet the midnight creatures that call this place their home, his many creations.

Yet…he tells me we have forever together, so do I really want to spend it alone with only brief flashes of him?

Part of me says yes, thrilled at the idea of spending eternity in his enticing embrace, but the other part of me…

the one that can’t stop thinking about that man, about his body …

“You say you wish to feel again? They can make you feel. They can light you ablaze with it.”

My eyes go wide at his declaration, at the tempting promise held within.

“Choose your answer carefully, Magpie. My creations are not things of the living world. They are born of the wicked, the low, and the desperate. They were denied their true nature for too long, so in return for their service, I deny them nothing in this house. That includes you.”

“You’ll give me to them?” I balk, taking a step back from him, betrayal clear in my voice.

He smiles, crossing the room to envelop me in his arms. “I will never willingly give you away. You are mine, and mine alone,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the tension leaving my shoulders as warmth follows his touch.

“But if they want to taste you, and if you wish to sample them in return…that will only fuel me. Fuel this house.”

His voice is seduction incarnate, sending tingling shivers tracing down my skin as he trails the tips of his fingers down my arms. His words do not make sense, but I am used to that after my time spent drifting from one hazy dream to the next.

His lips find my neck, searing it with his icy touch, and I feel heat building in me, but before that heat can grow to a fever pitch, he pulls back.

“Save it for them, Magpie,” he whispers, gripping my hands and kissing the backs of them.

I stifle the urge to let out a growl of resentment when, with a flourish, he twirls me, like we are in some intricate dance.

Feeling my simple black nightgown growing heavy, I look down to find I am draped in a slinky black dress, the bottom half covered in white feathers that tickle my thighs.

He admires me, a sensual look in his dark eyes as he takes my hand and draws me to him.

“Come. They are waiting.”

He pulls me from the room, and I can’t help the rapid beating of my heart.

It is nothing like the gripping panic that I am getting better and better at ignoring.

This is the heady thrill of anticipation, the excitement of the unknown.

We walk silently through the shadowy hallways, and I find myself relaxed in the darkness, eager to meet the other creatures who call the night their home.

“This house, the home that I’ve created for you, takes immense power to maintain,” Alister says, and a shiver crawls down my spine at the idea of the almighty creature holding me.

“Everything comes with a price, especially power. Magic takes a toll, demanding more and more with each drop of it I use. I am not an endless well. I need to be fueled like any other being.”

“Fear…” I whisper. One of the few books with words that do not drift from my eye explained the exchange of energy required for great feats of magic. Every living thing gives off energy, attached to acts or emotions. And the emotion that produces the most energy…

I pull away from Alister, stopping in the middle of an ornate sitting room. He takes a few more steps before he realizes I am not at his side, and turns to regard me.

“Fear is what fuels you. This home…Alister, where are you taking me?”

He does not hold his hand out for me, does not wait for me to cross the distance to greet him.

Instead, he strides quickly across the room, and I retreat hastily from his looming form.

I trip over a side table, sending a lamp crashing to the ground before I slam into a wall behind me.

Alister is on me in a moment. His arms cage me in, his face so close to mine I can see the feverish gleam in his eyes.

He leans down, nuzzling my neck, inhaling deeply the fear that rolls off me in waves.

“Yes, Magpie, fear is powerful.” He chuckles as I quiver, his lips pressing icy kisses to my neck, traveling up to my jaw, until they hover over my mouth. “But so is desire.”

He pulls away from me so suddenly I am left reeling, my mind having little time to catch up to his words.

His heated gaze roams over my bare shoulders, the plunging neckline of my dress, the feathery hem that barely covers my ass.

He grins at me. “I told you that if you stayed with me, I would give you every desire of your heart. I make good on my promises, Magpie.”