It was his mother as she’d appeared in the pictures his aunt had shown him, only the beauty she'd possessed in life was half rotted in death. Jack fought the urge to turn away.

"Jack," his mother crooned, reaching out for him with dirt-encrusted, moldy hands. "Let me have Mira. I'll take good care of her, Jack. Jack —”

"Jack!”

Someone gripped his shoulders and shook him. Jack came awake with a jerk. He shuddered, disoriented, his eyes unfocused as reality settled over him.

It had been a dream. All the Gods and Goddesses, only a dream.

Mira rocked back on her heels. The moonlight streaming in through the window painted her in pale silver hues. One of the spaghetti straps of her nightgown had fallen down over the curve of her silky shoulder. Her long, loose dark hair shadowed half her face, but he could tell she wore a concerned expression.

"You were yelling in your sleep," she said. "A nightmare?”

He took a deep breath and pushed a hand through his hair. Gods, the dream had made him sweat. The nightmare still held him in its clutches, and he didn't trust himself to form words yet.

He could still see Mira's mother in the circle, her face morphing into her daughter's. The cloying scent of the cemetery still clung to his nostrils and his own mother's voice echoed in his mind.

"Do you want some water? I'll go get you some." Mira moved to climb off the bed, and he was on her in a moment.

He caught her up and rolled her beneath his body, needing to feel her warm and alive, needing to feel the beat of her heart.

TEN

NINE

She yelped in surprise and fought him for a moment, but when his mouth came down on her throat to feel the flutter of her pulse under his lips, she let out a little sigh and relaxed. Her hands brushed uncertainly over his biceps before her arms closed around him.

He inhaled the scent of her skin and hair, the light rose perfume mingling with the clean smell of her soap, and closed his eyes. The impulse to touch her had been sudden and uncontrollable, and now the situation had become dangerous.

Jack dragged his lips over her throat, up her jawline to her mouth. He hovered there, not quite kissing her, simply enjoying the sensation of her hot breath on his lips. He dropped his head a degree to kiss her and groaned. Beneath his mouth, her lips felt like warm silk. When he flicked his tongue, she opened for him and he slipped inside sweet, hot heaven.

His magick pulsed in his chest, sensing the physical contact of an air witch. Their magicks rose, brushed each other, and then settled down. It was a sign that her constant proximity was dulling the reaction of his magick to hers and vice versa. They were finding their balance.