“I aim to please, Agnes.” I edged around her and took my first bite of chicken. Her bitchiness had no effect on me. I was all about comfort food. She sat there, watching me as I reached for the bowl of potatoes to dip my chicken into. “Agnes, what’s your problem?”

“You don’t get something for nothing, Celia.” She motioned to my empty pocket. “Just remember that.”

I took a biscuit and popped it on my plate when Agnes left. Shah appeared on the table the minute she slammed the door behind her. I smiled. “Believe it or not, she’s the nicest of the good Catholics.”

—
Over the next several days, I spoke to Aric briefly, and my sisters even less. The nightmares brought on by Tura had begun to plague them, despite the damn protection necklaces the witches had fashioned. It was as if he’d take his turn pushing us to our breaking point, dangling us over the cliff of no return before releasing us and forcing us to cling to whatever remained of our sanity.

“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” I admitted to Aric. It was morning, and I’d spent yet another night awake.

“There has to be something we’re missing—or something obvious he’s blinding us from seeing.”

I wiped my eyes. I was so tired from lack of sleep they burned. “When you figure it out, be sure to tell me.”

“Celia…”

I hadn’t shared my nightmares or Tura’s mind screws. They were too disturbing to relive. But I couldn’t deny what was happening to me. “I think I’m losing it, wolf.”

Aric swore. He could hear the desperation in my voice, just like I could hear the worry in his. “You have to stay strong, sweetness. We’re working tirelessly to figure this mess out. From what Dan has gathered in his research, if Tura doesn’t have a host, he won’t be able to survive—no matter how much strength he’s leached from me. That alone should be enough to kill him.”

But for now, he had his choice of hosts, bouncing among the countless weres in Aric’s Pack when he wasn’t busy invading our dreams. Bastard.

“The witches have developed a spell that could stun Tura if he attempts to claim another body,” he added. “The problem is, given Tura’s power, the spell isn’t strong enough to bring him down, nor does it last long enough to corral him. Genevieve thinks she may have something more potent, but such magic takes time to perfect and solidify.”

“Time I don’t think my sisters and I have, Aric.”

“I know, sweetness. But we’re getting closer. Hang in there. For me, please.”

“I’m trying.” I didn’t mean to be so negative, but there was a reason sleep deprivation was an effective form of torture. Tura was breaking me, and I didn’t know how to salvage the pieces. “Given your power, and the amount he’s taken, I don’t know how the coven’s magic will be enough.”

“He may have fed from me and taken his share, but he can’t hold on to me—not like before. I can force him out with the strength of my beast, just like Koda and Gemini did when Tura invaded their bodies earlier in the week.”

The problem was, for as lethal as Koda and Gemini were, they didn’t have the strength to force Tura out fast enough. Emme called me crying after helping to heal a cluster of students they had mauled before they had finally forced Tura out.

“Seek out your beast for comfort, Celia,” he said when I grew quiet. “She’s strong and will help you through this.”

“Aric, my tigress is completely gone. I can’t find her anywhere within me.”

“It’s not possible,” he insisted.

“I couldn’t even open a can of spaghetti today, wolf. It’s as if my strength has completely vanished.”

He swore and seemed to be pacing. “Let me come over. Maybe I can help you find her or draw her out from where she’s hiding.”

“It’s not a good idea, love. After Tura invaded those weres from your Pack yesterday and sent them after me, Misha has ordered his vamps to kill any that enter his compound.” It had taken everything I had in me to convince Misha not to rip their heads off.

“It shouldn’t be like this.”

“I know, but for now it is. Try to find a way out of this soon, okay?”

“I will,” Aric answered, although I could hear the concern in his voice.

I disconnected after I told him I loved him and rolled onto my side. I placed Shah back on the throw pillow and stroked the top of his smooth surface. The gesture for some reason made me smile. I couldn’t help thinking that maybe he liked the attention. “Let me know if anything scary shows up hell-bent on killing me—or if the Catholic schoolgirls knock on the door wanting to play BDSM Twister, again.” It wasn’t a joke. When Edith showed up yesterday, I could barely understand her through her ball gag.

Shah didn’t respond, of course, but I had the feeling he was laughing.

I rolled onto my back again. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I only meant to rest. But as I stared at the ceiling, wishing like hell I could be with Aric, my body surrendered and I couldn’t fight the exhaustion any longer.

I woke in the bedroom Aric and I shared, wearing a lacey pink nightie with rosettes on the trim that Aric had given me a few weeks back. From my iPad, “Wherever You Will Go” played over the sounds of the filling bathtub. There was a splash followed by Aric’s satisfied moan. He beckoned me in a gruff voice. “Are you coming, sweetness?”

I stopped trying to make the bed. The sheets were a mess following a night of passion. I hugged the pillow in my hands and took a whiff, relishing our combined scent.

The aroma accelerated the aching need filling my body. “Yes, love,” I whispered. “I’m coming.”

Our bathroom was constructed in alternating shades of brown and rust porcelain tile. The sinks and whirlpool tub were white and all the fixtures brushed nickel. Two overhead skylights and a large frosted picture window allowed natural light to filter in. It was typically a bright room.

But it wasn’t then.

You’re not alone, the voices said.

I charged in the moment the metallic scent of blood struck my nose, screaming at what I found. Bright crimson liquid pooled everywhere, saturating the thick white bath mat lying beside the tub. The faucet continued to run, spilling more of Aric’s blood onto the floor.