. . . head rush.” I clutch my head, stumbling from side to side.
He wraps his arm around my back then lifts me into his arms. God, it feels so good to be here with him touching me, looking at me with desire in his eyes, just like he did in the dream.
“Did Laylen do this to you?” he asks, his voice cracking as he stares into my eyes.
I nod, unable to look away from him. Want and desire blazes inside my body to the point that I actually start to sweat.
“He couldn’t help it, though. He’s marked.”
He turns pale. “By the Mark of Malefiscus, I’m guessing,” he says and I nod. “How did he get marked?” Then, without warning, he sets me down on the bed and reels for the door, his knuckles tightening as he raises his knife. “Wait. Is he still here? And where the hell are Aislin and Aleesa?”
I sigh heavily as I lower my feet to the floor, wanting to go to him, to hug him, run my fingers through his messy brown hair, kiss his soft lips, do all sorts of things to his lean, muscular body that I haven’t done in weeks except in my dreams.
“They all have the mark.”
He shakes his head, a deep growl rumbling in his chest. “How the hell did that happen? I thought Stephan had to put the mark on them. And if he was here, I’m sure you wouldn’t be.”
“I really don’t know.” I offer him an apologetic look. “One minute, the house was totally quiet, and the next”—I flick my wrist, gesturing at my neck—“Laylen freaked out and bit me.”
His jaw tautens as he stares at the bite marks on my neck. “So, you don’t know if he’s still here?”
I shake my head. “The last thing I remember is that they tied me up.”
A loud crash from downstairs sends me leaping toward him and desperately grabbing his arm. He looks down at my fingers delving into his skin, and desire flashes in his eyes again, sending a spiral of heat coiling in my stomach.
My stomach.
Suddenly, I remember there’s so much more I need to tell him.
Before I can get the words out, Alex takes my hand, and holding the knife out in front of him, he heads for the stairs, keeping me close.
“Stay here,” he whispers when we reach the top of the stairway.
“No way,” I hiss. “You don’t just get to show up and take over. I’m going down with you.” I march past him and down the stairs, cupping my hand over my neck, hyperaware of the heartbeat inside me.
Alex chases after me, taking the stairs by two. He beats me to the bottom and flashes me a cocky grin, so I stick my tongue out at him, making him chuckle.
For a moment, it feels like we’re just two normal people playing around and flirting. Then I hear the other heart beat as another bang rips from the house. We tense and Alex spins around, positioning me behind him.
“Stay behind me,” he says. “I’m being serious, Gemma. I need you safe.”
There are a thousand things I want to say to him, yet it doesn’t seem like the right time for any of it. So instead, I settle on a, “Yes, boss,” which causes him to look over his shoulder, his green eyes darkening as he quickly drinks me in from head to toe. Then he tears his gaze off me, and we tiptoe for the living room, the floor creaking under from our footsteps.
As we head farther into the darkness of the house, I find myself wishing we hadn’t put praesidium everywhere. Sure, it keeps the Foreseers out, but it also traps me in.
As we step through the doorway, I stop when I see a woman lounging on the sofa, eating one of the leftover grilled cheese sandwiches.
“Who the hell are you?” I ask then stop when I notice the crescent moon mark and realize it’s not just a woman, but a witch.
Instinctively, I shift my weight and lift my leg, ready to fight, but Alex’s arm shoots out, holding me back.
“Easy, tiger.” He bites back a smile. “I brought her here with me.”
My eyebrows knit as I gape at Alex. “You brought a witch into the house?”
“Amelia’s helping me with something,” he says, being evasive.
“Is she the witch?” Amelia asks, gawking at my eyes.
I shake my head and cross my arms. “No.”
“Then what are you?” Her eyes light up as she wolfs the