She hung her head and left me there, staring at nothing.

  UNCONTROLLABLE INSTINCT

  I had hurt her. I’d gotten undressed with Devina in the room, but only to make her suffer a little. Instead, I’d made Gemma suffer. Upstairs, my bedroom door slammed shut, snapping me out of my trance. With the eyes of all three Witches trained on me, I took the stairs three at a time to get to Gemma.

  Outside my room, I froze. I could sense she was there, leaning against the door. I rested my palms on the wood, right where I knew hers were on the other side. I could hear her breathing. “Jamie . . .” I whispered. I was so connected to her soul that I could perceive her anywhere. This time, though, there was more than just a door between us—there was a painful silence I wished I could fill. A distance that was killing me. I made a fist and materialized behind her.

  “Why did you do it?” she hissed, sensing my presence. She didn’t turn around.

  “It doesn’t—”

  “You undressed with her in the room!” She turned to face me and her hard glare turned me to ice.

  “Nothing happened!” I assured her, angry at myself. Overwhelmed, I hit the desk with my fist.

  “Getting undressed is already something. You shouldn’t have done it, Evan! You know she wants you, and you go and provoke her?”

  The shutters burst open. I went up to her and rested my fists on either side of her head. She was losing control and I had to bring her back. “Gemma, this is what Devina wants: to divide us. Don’t let her do it.” I grabbed her hands and looked her straight in the eye.

  Her irises went back to normal, driving off the darkness. I kissed her fingers, never taking my eyes off hers, and she hugged me tight. Closing my eyes, I rubbed my head against hers.

  For a few seconds I’d thought I’d lost her, and it had been terrible. The darkness was already extending its tentacles to take her from me, but I was going to hold her close.

  “Forgive me, Evan,” she murmured.

  I stroked her hair. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have provoked that Witch. But believe me, the only thing I wanted to do to her was disintegrate her.”

  “I know. I’ve never doubted you or forgotten what she did to you. I never will forget it. Maybe that’s why I lose control so easily when she’s around. Sometimes, inside me, I know what I’m doing is wrong, but I can’t control myself. I’m scared, Evan,” she confessed.

  I sighed and held her against me so she wouldn’t see the fear on my face. How could I reassure her when I was terrified myself? The proximity to her Sisters was stimulating Gemma’s powers. The Witch buried within her was awakening and we could do nothing to stop it.

  But then again, it was often Devina who provoked it, and we could at least stand up to her. I cupped Gemma’s face in my hands and looked her in the eye. “You can’t let that Witch get the better of you.”

  She nodded as I brushed a tear from her cheek with my thumb. “Do you think it was her who showed me the vision?”

  “No, it was you, but she triggered something in you that caused it—a spark that ignited your powers.”

  “Anger.”

  “Yeah. That’s what they do, isn’t it? Incite people to hatred and violence. Anger leads to more anger.”

  “I feel like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. There’s so much chaos inside me . . .”

  “You must have chaos in you to give birth to a dancing star,” I whispered.

  “Friedrich Nietzsche.”

  “I was sure you would know that.”

  Gemma smiled.

  “So what happened at school, then? In the broom closet, I also had a vision, at the same moment you did,” I said.

  “You mean it wasn’t you?” I shook my head and she seemed to lose herself in a distant memory. “It’s happened before,” she murmured.

  “When?”

  “On the veranda.” She pointed at the door. “The first time you brought me here. When you finally told me who you were. I touched your back and we saw the same thing in our minds. I projected the image into your head. I guess the same thing happened today at school.”

  “That must be what happens when a Subterranean desires a Witch—she can project into his mind what will happen if he follows his instinct.”

  “I bewitched you.”

  I smiled and stroked her ear with my nose. “You don’t need any powers to do that,” I murmured. “You do just fine all on your own.”

  Gemma laughed and held me away from her, both hands on my chest. “Be good. We need to dig deeper into what causes these visions. It was my nature that tried to seduce you, you see?”

  Kissing her neck, I held her tight. “So there are positive aspects to your nature,” I murmured, my lips on her skin.

  “I need to learn how to control this desire effect,” she said, deep in thought. “Let’s try it again! Maybe I can project another image into your mind,” she exclaimed, sounding determined.

  But I was even more determined than she was. Following my urge, I lifted her up and sat her down on the desk. “I’d rather do it my way.” I kissed her, pressing my hips against hers.

  She bit my lip and squeezed her legs around my body to hold me tighter. “I’m afraid I’m not going to stop you,” she moaned, giving in.

  I pulled off her sweatshirt and undershirt at the same time, blinded by desire. Gemma pulled off my shirt, unbuttoned my jeans, and lowered them slightly. My hands made their way under her skirt, unable to resist as my desire pressed impetuously against her.

  Just then her phone rang, vibrating inside the sweatshirt on the floor. “I should get that,” Gemma said softly.

  I clasped my hand around her bottom and pulled her tightly against me while caressing her back with the other. “It’ll stop.” I grabbed the back of her head and pressed my lips to her neck, making her moan. With a few tugs I got her out of her skirt. I couldn’t stand to be separated from her by the stupid fabric any more. I wanted to touch her skin. I wanted to feel her against me.

  The phone insisted, distracting her again. “It might be important,” she mumbled.

  I didn’t stop. “I don’t care.”

  “It might be my parents!” she exclaimed, jumping down and wriggling free from my grasp. I rested my hands on the desk, frustrated. “It’s Faith,” she told me.

  I turned around and the sight of her left me breathless. God, she was beautiful. Why did she have that effect on me every time? I’d never experienced anything like it. My body, my senses, all of me felt overpowered by her. Her pearl-colored lingerie stood out against her golden skin: a lace bra and underwear that shouldn’t have been legal. Gemma certainly knew how to drive me wild.

  She’d taken the phone from her uniform on the floor and stood there in the middle of the room, focused on the message she was reading while I died with longing for her.

  “She says they’ll be here in half an hour.” Gemma looked up. “I’m afraid we’ll have to take a raincheck on our little chat. Hey, why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?” I moved closer, one eyebrow raised.

  She stepped back, smiling. “Like someone who wants to eat me.”

  I trapped her against the wall and sniffed her neck. “Maybe because it’s true. You’re driving me wild—what can I do?” I whispered against her skin. I nibbled her shoulder and she trembled.

  “Hey, you’re not playing fair.” Gemma rested her hands on my shoulders to calm me and smiled, her eyes still closed. “If we go to the Ice Castle in this state we’ll be in danger of melting it all down.”

  “Then let’s not go.” I continued to kiss her. I loved to tease Gemma, to slowly drive her as wild as she drove me, kissing her everywhere, following the shivers I sent through her body. “Still want me to stop?”

  “No,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to . . . But there’s no time.” She slipped away, pulling on her skirt and looking at me, a grin on her face. “Are you getting dressed or are you going like that?” She pointed at my bare chest. Gemma liked teasing me too. She couldn’t even imagine what it triggered in me, the feelings I would have to overcome to manage to stay away from her. Quickly tying her hair up, she planted a kiss on my lips. “We’ve only got half an hour. I’m going to run and take a shower!” She left the room, carrying her clothes in a bundle.

  I sighed, staring at the door that had just closed behind her. A sudden smile curved my lips. Did she really think she could slip away from me like that? I pricked my ears and heard the shower being turned on in the other room, the sound of the glass door closing, the melody she was humming to herself.

  I took off my shoes, then my jeans, with the concentration of a wolf watching its prey from afar. The instant my boxers fell to the floor I disappeared and materialized behind her. Her eyes were closed and steam was billowing through the room, carrying with it the sound of that delicious melody. I would have liked to stand there watching her a little longer, but my hand moved on its own and rested on her back, slowly ascending.

  She tensed slightly but immediately realized it was me and only turned her head. I moved closer behind her and took her hand. She half closed her eyes when I stroked her cheek with my nose.

  “Did you really think I’d let you leave?” I whispered into her ear. I reached out and rested my hands on the wall in front of her, trapping her.

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t,” she confessed. I kissed her earlobe, pressing my desire against her. Gemma turned and joined her lips to mine in a slow, hot kiss full of promises as her hand slid down my chest, lower and lower, and our tongues touched in a sensual, hypnotic dance.

  A groan escaped me when Gemma stroked my erection. I felt like I was losing my mind. Gemma triggered unfamiliar instincts inside me. I was a Soldier of Death, but when she was around all that remained was a man.

  I stepped across the shower and pressed her against the wall, my hands on the verge of pulverizing the rock from the emotions racing through me. I rested my forehead against hers, breaking off our kiss to try to regain control. Her big dark eyes probed mine and I swallowed, completely at the mercy of her power. I scooped up some lather and began to caress her, very slowly, running my hand up her back, over her shoulder, and then up her neck as she moved her head slowly, surrendering to my caresses. I followed the curve of her jaw and my thumb lingered on her lower lip. My hand descended to her collarbone, her breast, her waist . . . before slipping between her legs. Gemma reacted with a moan, sinking her nails into my biceps and pulling me closer. I felt undone by the sensations; the knot in my stomach her gaze provoked, the dizziness the touch of her hands on me triggered, the burning deep in my chest that begged me to meld with her.

  I caressed her bottom and slid my hand down her thigh, which I lifted to make room for me between her legs. Gemma cried out my name but I almost didn’t hear her, my mind clouded with passion as I entered her. I gripped her bottom, holding her tightly as I moved inside her. With my mouth I explored her neck, thirsty for her, her skin, her scent. I slowly sucked her earlobe as she moaned and twisted to mold her body to mine, to fuse with me, feeding off my own need. A fiery storm raged inside me. I grunted and clung to her, losing myself in her as I thrust harder and harder. Gemma’s breathing grew more ragged. She again cried out my name and the storm exploded inside me. I sank my hand into her hair and kissed her chin as I climaxed inside her, slowing my movements.

  I sucked Gemma’s neck and she sank her nails into my back, groaning with pleasure, clinging to me, keeping me inside her. My hand slid between us, clasped her breast, and then went down to her belly, between her legs . . . I stroked Gemma’s desire with my thumb and she cried out with pleasure, her muscles contracting and shivers running across her skin.

  Gemma raised her eyes to mine, her breathing still uneven as the fog in her head lifted. I took her hand and raised it, holding it against the wall. I smiled at her and she squeezed it tightly. We’d just been to heaven and hell together, emerging from our own ashes. The fire that had enveloped us was so all-consuming it still burned in my chest.

  “I don’t want to lose you, Evan,” she whispered unexpectedly.

  “It’s gratifying to hear that at moments like this,” I said, grinning. I stroked her thumb and she turned to look at our joined hands. Resting my forehead against her temple, I kissed her cheekbone. “I won’t let it happen,” I whispered.

  Gemma took a deep breath, her heart still racing. Her gaze was lost on the rings of our tattoos that together formed the infinity symbol, renewing our vow each time we joined hands.

  Stay together. Fight together.

  BLOCKS OF ICE

  I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around me, my cheeks aching from the huge smile that refused to leave my face. I let my hair down and opened the window a crack. The steam soon cleared and the mirror reflected my image. I ran a hand over my face, still grinning like a moron. It was bright red! Why did Evan inevitably have that effect on me?

  Sweeping my hair to one side, I suddenly froze and leaned closer to my reflection, my hand on my neck. My eyes widened at the hickey Evan had left on me. Part of me was turned on by the sight of it—it reminded me of the electrifying moment when I’d felt his lips on me—yet I suspected a little part of him had done it because we were about to go out with Peter. By that point Evan should have realized he didn’t need to leave his mark on me to know I was his. I still had butterflies in my stomach, thinking back to a few minutes earlier, to what had happened in the shower and how passionately he had desired me. I closed my eyes. I could still feel his hands on me, caressing my wet skin as the water slid down our bodies and the steam enveloped us. It was as though he possessed the code to activate all the sensors in my body. I saw myself stroking the tattoo on his arm. At my touch, a shiver had spread across his forearm, tracing the intricate design, his muscles flexing every time he thrust himself into me. I’d always been drawn by his mark. It aroused me and frightened me at the same time. Part of me wondered if it was because of what I was going to become—a Witch on the hunt for her Subterranean—but whenever that happened I reassured myself with a reminder that I’d never felt a similar attraction to the marks of other Subterraneans. My connection to Evan went beyond our roles, and love would overcome the dark power inside me. I would defeat the powers of evil—I wouldn’t let them obliterate me. Though Evan was determined to find a solution that would prevent me from becoming a Witch, I was well aware that the darkness was inside me and only I could defeat it.

  I’d already experienced what it meant to lose Evan and I wasn’t willing to accept it again. I would respect the pact but would remain on Earth. I was more and more convinced I wouldn’t change. It wasn’t possible to erase the memories I’d built together with Evan. He couldn’t be eradicated from my heart.

  I ran my fingers over the hickey, remembering his mouth’s fiery touch. Raising my eyes to the mirror, I found I was still smiling. Deep down, it warmed my heart that Evan felt the need to leave his mark on me, the need to make me his. He’d never stopped romancing me. We’d been through so much together, our relationship had evolved and our bond had strengthened, yet he was still the enamored and slightly crazy guy I’d always known. Even if I’d realized in time that he was giving me a hickey, I knew I would have let him do it, just like when he’d snuck into the shower even though the others were about to arrive. He was impulsive and stubborn—maybe even more than I was. After making love, we’d started fooling around again, and it had taken every ounce of my self-control to resist him and kick him out of the shower.

  Downstairs, the front door closed and murmurs filled the living room. “Oh, shit,” I murmured. They’d arrived. I dressed in a hurry, knowing I had to get downstairs, and fast, before Evan and Peter got into a fistfight in the living room. I hopped into the hallway, tugging my snow boots on, but something stopped me.

  A sensation.

  Slowly, I turned around as a shiver ran down my spine. The hallway was dark, illuminated only by a faint glow from one of the bedrooms. I felt a sudden gust of wind. Evan must have left his window open. I walked toward his room to close it, but my heart leapt in my chest from fright. Someone was staring at me through the crack in the door.

  Blinking, I advanced cautiously, but the eyes were still there. It looked like a little boy. The door swung shut, closed by a puff of air, but I threw it open. Evan’s sweatshirt swung back and forth on the doorknob. I heaved a sigh of relief. The room was empty and the window was, in fact, open, letting in the cold. I shivered, partly because of the draft and partly because of that nasty sensation.

  “Hey, Gemma.”

  I jumped, my heart beating like crazy. “Simon,” I said, still stunned.

  “What are you doing here? Your friends are already downstairs. If I were you, I wouldn’t leave Evan alone with Peter.”

  “Actually, you’re right.” I smiled at him. “Aren’t you coming with us to the Ice Castle?”

  “I’ll catch up with you in a bit. First I’m going downstairs to make sure everything’s under control.”

  “You mean the prisoners?”

  “I mean the prisoners’ guards. Better not to trust them too much.”

  I nodded. “Be careful,” I warned him, serious.

  He smiled and tousled my hair. “No need to worry. Everything’s under control. Go have fun with your friends.” I returned his smile and headed for the stairs. Casting a last glance at Evan’s sweatshirt, I shook my head. I was getting paranoid.

  “Here she is, finally!” Faith exclaimed as Jake pulled her against him, making her protest.

  “Hey!” I said as I hurried down the stairs.

  Peter was sprawled on the couch with Brandon, while Evan was drying his still-damp hair with a towel. I sighed with relief: no blood on the carpet. Peter had a strange look on his face. He seemed worried, or maybe confused—I couldn’t tell. Irony had hopped into his lap, but Peter was focused on something else. When he saw me, though, his agitation vanished and he looked calm again.