Warren stepped out from the shelter of the awning he’d been waiting under for half an hour. Across the street, the witch he’d been following almost every night for the last six months startled. Emerald. An odd name for a witch from the Scarlet Coven. She had helped free him from an ancient Vampire’s possession. Since that night, he’d been unable to resist tracking her all over the globe. She stared at him with her hand up, clutching her delicate throat. Afraid? If anyone would be safe around him, it would be her. He owed her.

The street lights flickered on, then off, then burned brighter than ever. He didn’t need them to see it was her, yet under their shimmering glow, her freckles were highlighted as if the clouds had moved aside to reveal the beauty of the starry sky. He had memorized each and every one. It hadn’t been by choice. Since she’d saved him, he’d been unable to get the witch out of his mind. She’d set up a barrier to hold back the memories of his possession, helping him get his shit together after being a silent bystander to Gideon’s carnage. For that, he was grateful. But ever since he’d woken, himself once again, he felt connected to her. During the night, and sometimes waking him from his day sleep, he could feel her, or, rather, her emotions. Tendrils of them, like hints of something more he craved. Fear radiated from her now, either from him being here, or from seeing him. It extinguished suddenly, as if she’d shut off the light.

He met her halfway across the street, confused by the loss of contact. She avoided his eyes by adjusting her jacket, so he wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, he cleared his throat so he could speak. “Emerald.”

“Hey, Warren.”

“I’ve been looking for you.” He’d been trying to find her alone—without her constant witch friends—since he’d come to terms with the fact that he had to talk to her. He didn’t want to, he needed to. Now, standing so close to her, he worried that what he needed might be something more than talking. The tension, a constant strain on him, eased.

“Oh?” She tucked something deeper in her jacket pocket, then hunched her shoulders and stared at him. Curiosity sparked, he tried to see whatever it was she’d stowed away, but whatever it was, she had it too hidden. “Why?”

Focusing back on her face, he noticed she again avoided eye contact. “It’s wet. You’re cold. Let’s go over there and talk.” He pointed to a coffee shop on the corner.

She glanced from him to the coffee shop, then back in confusion. Her eyes were bluer than gray. The color reminded him of jeans that had been washed until they were a slice of heaven to wear.

“Coffee. You drink it. We can go in there and out of this.” He motioned to the drizzle.

“You want to go have coffee?” She made that sound crazy. He had the uncomfortable sensation that he’d just asked her out and she was amazed he thought she’d want to go out with him. “Do you drink coffee?”

Relieved that his first thought was bullshit, he shrugged. “I drink coffee. I eat food, too.” He flashed a smile and her focus landed on his fangs. Interesting, especially when her cheeks flushed a pretty pink under the wash of freckles. She brushed her hair off her face. He couldn’t pick up anything from her. Either she wasn’t feeling anything or…she was blocking him.

Can she do that?

“I know that.” She had slender, small fingers and pretty nails with a thin strip of glitter on the rounded tips, as if she’d dipped them in a bowl of stars. “I mean, of course you eat.” He had a feeling her knowledge of Vampires was limited to what she’d seen in movies. It was odd, especially since her coven had a history of dealing with Vampires. “But… I was… I mean, I am busy.”

He considered that perhaps she was frightened of him. She was keeping a distance, and the lack of eye contact had to mean something. Possibly fear. He tried to sense her, but got nothing. Frustrated and more than a little embarrassed, he admitted, “I wasn’t myself when I woke, that last time you saw me.” The disorientation he’d experienced returned. Chaos. Fear. Anger. Panic. All those things he’d suffered rose to suffocate him. His palms grew moist. His heart raced. The choking sensation of losing control of his own body pulled him under its heavy weight.

“No, of course you weren’t,” she said, saving him. The memories vanished, replaced by the sweet warmth of the concern he could hear in her tone. “Warren? Are you okay?”

Her worry stabilized him. “Of course.” He could only remember scattered bits of waking without Gideon there, ruling his body. One thing always came to him in crystal clear detail—her sweet face. Only, when he’d fully come to, he’d feared that, once again, Gideon had called him to finish his grisly work. He had shoved her away so hard she’d hit a wall and hurt her head. “I hurt you—”

She dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “You were confused. Don’t worry about it. You didn’t hurt me. We were glad you were alive, I mean, really, truly alive. It wasn’t easy, and for a while, we thought it impossible to get you back.”

He took a deep breath, the first one he could clearly remember since waking up free of Gideon’s possession. He tried to think of what to say to explain. She’s beautiful, so alive. How did I miss how vibrant she is? “I thought I’d been called up to hurt you, or finish hurting you. That’s why I shoved you away. I know I hurt you. Your head hit that post.” She winced, but when she seemed ready to speak, he did instead. “He did that, just to make me pay for trying to get him out of my body.” For some reason, once he started explaining to Emerald, he couldn’t seem to stop. “I was afraid you were another victim. Sick that I’d hurt you, like that.”

“So, you are remembering,” she said in a musing tone. “That’s good.”

He blinked, unsure he’d heard her correctly. “Excuse me?”

“You remembering is good. You need to remember in order to heal. So, remembering things that happened is a good thing.”

Outraged, he stepped closer to her so she could be clear on this. “It sucks. It’s not good. It’s as far from good as you can fucking get. I want it fixed, better, erase all of it.”

“Oh. I see.”

At her faint reply, he froze. I just shouted at her.

She didn’t appear offended as much as drained. With a worried frown, she stared up the street. He wanted her attention back on him so badly his palms itched from keeping them off her.

“Well, I can’t do that, and really, if you stopped for a minute, you’d know messing with your mind isn’t a smart idea.”

His fear that he’d insulted her vanished. Since waking, the anger was always simmering, waiting for him to tap into it. With one sarcastic snip from the witch, all that melted away. He watched her, fascinated to the point where even he recognized it was an obsession. She continued to survey the street with a great deal more interest than the deserted road deserved. It gave him the time to take stock of the situation. I shout at her. She’s offended. I have to be calm. Stay calm.

“It’s been a long night.” It was kind of an apology, but she didn’t meet his eyes. Shit, have I blown this? Fuck! Think. “Let’s go inside. I need to explain.”

His suggestion clearly didn’t please her. But she stepped back, tilting her head to gaze up at him, at last. The shock of her gaze hit, an exciting, oh, so sweet tingle he felt shiver down his chest and angle straight down to his groin. Her cheeks were flushing an amazing pink to match her lips. He couldn’t glance away. She had so many freckles, there was even one delicate dot near her full bottom lip, like a droplet of something decadent he needed to clean off for her—with his tongue. He took a deep breath and forced his eyes off, in the pretense of scanning the street. It wouldn’t help his cause if he showed her a rampant erection. That would run her off more than his shouting.

“I can’t.”

He whipped around to face her at the two softly spoken words.

There was a tremor in her voice, a catch. “I mean I can’t have coffee.” She licked her lips, going near that enticing freckle. All the while she stood, staring at him.

Do I affect her as much as she blows my mind? The thought made an ache of longing burn his throat.

“Sorry, I mean… I’m really busy.”

Even as she spoke, he sensed her drawing away. He pushed desperately to feel her emotions, got nothing, then a sliver of fear. His hard-on waned, growing soft so fast he had to bite back a shudder. She did fear him.

“I really do have things I need to do. Things that can’t wait.”

He considered letting her go, then decided he needed her more than she needed to go do whatever witches did in their spare time.

“Ten minutes. You gotta have ten minutes. I’m wet. So are you.” If only he meant that the way he wanted. Wet, tight, around my tortured cock. “It won’t take long.” Absolute truth, baby. One glide into her paradise and he would probably go off within seconds. If I could. If I could with anyone, I’d want it to be her. He swallowed hard at his crazy thoughts. Focus! “I’ll buy.”

The offer was sincere, as was her hesitancy to join him.

“It’s not that.” She glanced back down the street then in the opposite direction. Is she meeting someone else? The thought made his fists clench. She can’t be with someone else. Not before he found a way to be with her. “I am busy. I should go.”

He grabbed her arm just as she moved to walk away. He heard her gasp and even in the confused state he was with her, he recognized that sound as aroused, not frightened. He hoped. Without listening to her protests, he began propelling her forward.

She laughed lightly, sounding shocked. “Hey, really you can’t—”

“Just ten minutes.” Relief made him lightheaded, or maybe it was her, finally so close.

She gave another half-hearted laugh, more frustrated than happy. “What are you doing? Stop it!”

Her amused outrage tingled down his spine, much as her attention had just moments earlier. His cock was as tangled up as he was, rising hard and demanding from where it’d gone flaccid just moments before.

“Just coffee, a few minutes, I’m sure you have that at least.” He inhaled deeply, trying to get his act together. Emerald’s light, flowery scent came with the influx of air. He tightened his grip on her am, unconsciously drawing her closer. If she is interested in me, I can’t blow this, can’t rush it. Calm your shit! “Ten minutes. I know you like coffee.”

“How do you know I like coffee?”

Because I’ve watched you drink it with your friends. I’ve watched you lick a drop from those rosy lips and envied them. Neither responses would cut it. “If you can erase my memories from that time, that would be best. If not, maybe you can do something else. But we can talk about it, over coffee. Inside.”

She’d stopped protesting, but her slender arm was stiff under his hand.

As soon as he had her inside, he ushered her ahead of him and a hand right above her gorgeous ass. She came to his jaw, which was the perfect height for him to rest his chin on her bright hair if he hugged her from behind. If he did, she could feel the gentleness of his embrace in contrast to his raging erection pressed to those unbelievably lush curves. For a slim woman, she had ass. No doubt he’d come just from stroking his cock to that soft butt. If I had that right—which I don’t. Who does? The thought worried him even as he scanned the nearly deserted coffee shop and listened to her renewed attempts at swaying him.

“Really, I just don’t have the time right now, and there is no possible way you are serious. Minds are not something to mess with.”

He nodded, as if he got what she was saying, when all he knew was now, with her standing beside him, he felt…right. An anxiety to heal himself, to find peace, gripped him, but even that couldn’t completely overshadow the good feeling. She’d stopped talking, but was staring around the coffee shop with a frown.

“There’s no one here. Is it closed?”

He walked them farther inside, and spotted two customers in the far back of the shop, witches, but not like Emerald. She must have spied them as well, because he felt her tension increase.

“They’re here, the place must be open, and ah, there you go. It’s open.” A black-haired, Goth shop girl came into view, her arms overflowing with big bags of coffee beans. She gave them an odd frown from under her thick bangs, but continued on to the counter. He ignored her. They were dripping water all over her clean floor.

Emerald hid her face with his arm. She doesn’t want any attention? Or she doesn’t want anyone knowing she slummed it with a Vampire? He dismissed the thought. Emerald had friends of all species, most of them, thankfully, women.

“Is there someone you want to avoid?”

“Yes.” She surprised him with the crisp response. “How about everyone?” Her sarcasm was cute, especially since she spent most of her time getting herself on missions that made him more anxious than a momma bear over her cubs. “Especially you.”

He choked on a surprised laugh, unable to contain it. “Me?” A thrill traveled over his skin. Does she know I follow her?

She gave him an adorable scowl. “You’ve been spying on me, haven’t you?” His stunned silence must have been all the answer she needed. “That’s wrong in so many ways.”

Well, if the cat was out of the bag… “If you didn’t avoid me, I wouldn’t have to.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “That makes no sense. You could have simply come up to me…” Her eyes widened and she leaned forward. He almost stepped back, but held still, fascinated with her examination of his face. “But I wasn’t alone, was I?” Smart witch. Sexy and smart. “You wanted me alone so you could badger me over this insane idea!”

Erasing his memory wasn’t insane. It was brilliant. The more he thought about it, the better it sounded.

“How about over here?” He gave her a slight push forward. The coffee shop was an ‘L’ shape, so he thought a table by a window with a curtain, far from the two witches in the back and the nosey counter girl, would be ideal. There was even bookshelf behind them, creating a small alcove.

“Here?” Of course Emerald didn’t seem to agree. Nothing, it appeared was going to go as planned. “I can’t—”

“Just sit. I’ll get the coffee.” He didn’t wait, but headed to the counter. She didn’t stop him, so he knew he had her. He ordered her favorite drink, and one for himself. His stomach was hard as a knot, but he’d drink whatever he had to in order to have this time with her.

He glanced over his shoulder, unable to stop himself. She was so different than his fantasies. More alive, for one. More… He caught her peeking at him before she ducked back behind the bookshelf. Nervous? Scared? He couldn’t say. There was so much he didn’t know about her. Why is she so reluctant to have coffee with me? He was practically salivating—hell he was salivating over being near her at last.

“Here you go, two mochas, extra chocolate.” He took both cups, catching the girl’s too-interested glance. He bet on her making up a reason to come check them out closer. She probably thought they were a couple. The thought pleased him so much, warmth spread from his chest, easing that knot of tension in his abdomen. If Emerald erases my memories, there’s nothing stopping us. I’ll be me again, normal again. Fuck-able again. Last night he’d watched her until she’d disappeared, going wherever it was that he couldn’t find. He’d gone to his home and tried to jack off. Every fantasy had centered around her riding him with that lush ass bouncing against his palms as she sank down on his cock. He hadn’t reached orgasm. But that was nothing new. He hadn’t in over six months. Even rock-hard, his body couldn’t work because his brain was too full of the memories. He’d lain there afterward, his cock stiff and stinging from his desperate, fierce stroking, but his mind had circled around how to get Emerald in his arms. He’d actually fallen asleep, dreaming of her, sleeping in his embrace.

If she can fix me, I might have that. First, he had to persuade her to help him. Then he could see if she returned what he felt—even a small slice of the obsession would be enough for him. But first, convince her.

He stalked back over. Emerald huddled in her seat, biting her full bottom lip. He sat and handed her the cup of mocha latte, wondering what she was thinking about. The whisper of her fingers as he handed over the drink stole the worry right out of his head. He saw her startle then try to hide it.

“So, explain what you think I should do, since erasing my mind isn’t advisable.”

Instead of answering, she pushed her hood off her bright hair. Strawberry blonde silk spilled down her back. He tightened his hand on his cup of coffee and shifted his ass. His jeans pulled painfully on his confused cock. Gods, she was stunning. Like some Faye princess. He could just picture her walking out of an ancient forest, with nothing more than her long hair and a mysterious smile…

He blinked and attempted to get his brain functioning. Emerald seemed oblivious to her impact. She leaned over so she could see around the shelf. Toward the witches, he noticed, then she quickly shifted the curtain to study the street before focusing on him.

I’m excited to sit with her and she’s making sure no one sees us.

“Are you waiting for someone?”

She sat straighter. “Me? No.” He wasn’t sure she was being honest. She dug her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, glanced at him then away. Her hair was even more tousled then when he’d first met her, but she didn’t worry over it. Considering how beautiful she was, he doubted she needed to. It must hang down to the top of her butt, he realized. He swallowed hard, experiencing another cold rush of arousal at the thought of sliding his hands through it as she rode him. Immediately he was too hot.

He removed his jacket and gave her time to do the same. She didn’t.

“So? What sage advice do you have for me?” He leaned on the table and drew in a deep breath. Her scent reminded him of flowers in springtime when they’d just bloomed and were sweet and fresh from the morning dew. Mixed with the mocha, it was mouthwatering.

She slouched farther down in her chair. “I don’t think I’m the best person to give you advice, one way or the other. I’m just saying it’s your mind. You shouldn’t let someone else mess with it.”

“You did.”

“I did because otherwise we were afraid you’d…” She glanced at him quickly, then back down. “Do something to yourself.”

He snorted. He’d tried that—several times. He sipped his latte. She tested hers with a small sip. He had to glance away. His response to her was so visceral it should’ve no longer shocked him, but damn, it was inappropriate to sit here with her for the first time ever with a raging cock. It started to piss him off. He got himself under control and studied her again. “Is that possible?”

Her gaze slammed into his. Whatever she saw made her eyes turn to pools of liquid blue sympathy before she studied her cup again. “I’m sure anything is possible.”

“Then you erasing the memories is possible.”

“Except that,” she muttered with ire in her tone. “And before you go on, which I’m beginning to see will happen, erasing your memories is something I won’t do.”

He set his coffee down, feeling the familiar anger rising. He tamped it. If there was one person in this godforsaken world he didn’t want to direct the rage at, it was the beautiful woman sitting so quietly across from him.

“Think about what you’re saying.” The sharpness in her tone surprised him. She sounded angry with him. The idea stunned him silent. “I get that fucked-up shit happened to you.” Her language shivered down his back. She appeared so fragile, so small. The coarse words thrilled him. They were uttered with surety and strength. They said here was someone who wouldn’t walk carefully around him for fear of his response. “I do. Believe me, I do. But we’ve all been through hell. I still wouldn’t let anyone mess with my head.” In a quieter voice, she added, “I truly don’t think you shouldn’t, either.”

Of course she would think this way. Her worst nightmares couldn’t compare to Gideon. He considered the wisdom of answering but really, unless he did, she would stay firm on this. “That’s because you haven’t lived with a lunatic controlling your body, using you to torture and murder innocents.” He kept his voice down by sheer willpower. “You haven’t woken with blood soaking your arms up to your elbows and dead bodies next to you covered in your release.” Or been brought to awareness, right at the point of climax, realizing that the person you should be sharing passion with was dying in the most horrific way possible.

Emerald’s gaze didn’t leave his, but her blue eyes went wide with what must’ve been horror. He turned away, unable to see for sure if his guess was right. He watched a newspaper float along the road, growing slower as the rain weighed it down until it was halted by a lamp post.

After a silence that lasted too long, he began to realize that maybe, even without shouting, he’d said too much. He couldn’t take the words back. For some insane reason, he felt lighter, as if saying them aloud had removed a stone’s worth of weight from his chest.

He cleared his throat. Apologizing wasn’t in his nature, but neither was losing a fight. Without those memories, he could begin to get his life back together. “All I’m saying—”

“I know what you’re saying,” she whispered in a rough voice. He met her gaze, startled by the emotions swimming there. She wasn’t disgusted. She…was battling tears. She understood. Sitting forward, she covered his clenched fist with her cold, smooth hand. Shocked, he stared at her earnest expression. “I’m sorry. I am. I saw what you endured, I saw it all when I put the barrier—”

“What?” He jerked his hand from under hers and sat back in shock. She knew? She knows. Rage had him in a stranglehold. “Then you know why I want this!” He was so angry he couldn’t keep his voice down. He slammed his fist on the table. She saw! She saw…everything. He stared over at her, humiliation warring with the rage. “Fuck! Do you know how fucked-up that is?” he lashed out at her. “This is why you’re frightened of me—”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I just told you I saw—”

“Ridiculous?” he hissed, irritated enough to need to shake her. “You are afraid of me—”

“I am not afraid of you.” She smacked the tabletop. Her drink sloshed over the side of her cup and he reached for his. He stared down at pools of mocha latte gathered around the circle he’d left from his cup.

“I wasn’t aware your ego was that inflated, Vampire.” She sneered the title with enough disdain to jerk his gaze to hers.

“Ego?” He leaned forward, catching her quick intake of breath. “Don’t lie to me, witch! You are afraid of me. It shows—”

“I could fry you where you sit. Easily, too.” She wasn’t boasting. He could feel the magic in her. It was bottomless. Still…

“You might be able to fry me, Emerald, but you are afraid. If not of me, then—”

“You know, Warren, the world does not revolve around you.”

He blinked, confused for a moment. “I’m aware—”

“And, more importantly, I’m not afraid of you. A Vampire, even if you are a bit, well, old, isn’t a real threat to a witch.”

His head spun. A little old. Did she think him too old for her?

“So, yeah, your temper is forgivable, but only up to a point. I get you’re upset.”

“Upset?” he spluttered. Who is this woman? He’d thought her small, shy, constantly on the go, but not tough as nails. Not a smart-mouthed fairy princess he wanted to scoop up and fall back into the forest to make love to until she cried his name. He shook his head, clearing the fantasies that kept overflowing. “I’m pissed to the point of shaking you until—”

“See? That temper isn’t rational.” In a mutter, she added, “Lack of sleep, probably.” She sighed as if she were dealing with a dimwit. “But really? Raging at me isn’t going to make me quiver in fear. If a house full of Death Stalkers doesn’t make me wet myself, you certainly can’t.”

The wet comment tensed his already hard cock. He ignored it. “If you don’t stop interrupting me, you might want to be afraid!”

She sat back, eyes wide. Then suddenly she grinned, and giggled behind her hands. He was about to set her down again when the serving girl came over to clean up the mess. He snatched his cup out of the way, and watched Emerald do the same, still laughing quietly. At him. He got an odd glance from the black-haired witch, but his gaze was pinned on the one confusing the hell out of him.

“There, all better.” Emerald hid her amusement behind her coffee cup, but her blue eyes still mocked him.

“You didn’t want to come in here. You can’t look me in the eye—”

“I hate to interrupt you again but I’m looking at you right now.” She was, so he let her go on. “I know this might be hard to consider, but there is more in my life right now than your issues.” In a softer tone, she continued, “What Gideon did was horrific. Monstrous. But you didn’t do those things. Gideon did. He’s gone. Absolutely one hundred percent gone. You don’t have to worry about him. You fought him. I saw how hard—”

“You saw it all?”

She bit her lip, clearly not wanting to respond but the silence alone was answer.

“Do you know how fucked up that is?” Heat filled his chest, climbing up his neck and onto his face, making it hard for him to sit still. Once again, his cock was flaccid. The ups and downs were a constant frustration. He rubbed his hands over his thighs, trying to pull himself together. How can she sit across from me if she saw it all?

“Why is that fucked up?” She leaned forward, invading his personal space. “I’d think if I were in your situation, I’d want one person in the world to understand and know what I went through. You struggled to free yourself. What Gideon did to people was…brutal. What he did to you was just as sickening. But he’s gone and you aren’t!” She spoke so passionately she surprised him. “You have to recall how you fought him, so you can move on. There is the distinction. He did those things. You did not. You fought him from within. You need to let it go, try to move on.”

He snorted in disgust. “Let it go? Says a girl who is barely out of high school.”

“Uh, I never attended mortal schools. I’ve been casting spells since I was two. But none of that matters. I was in your mind. Don’t you think I vetted you, before we let you free?”

Stunned again, he was surprised he managed to keep his mouth from falling open. He’d considered it, but to have her speak so openly…

“Didn’t consider that we might not want to free you so easily?”

The little brat. He sat back and contemplated her smug smile. She had perfect lips. So soft and pink they reminded him of silken pillows. Plump and kissable, even more so with the little tease in the curves. “I considered it.”

“Oh, I see. So that thunderous expression is because I wasn’t supposed to speak on it?”

He considered that he might have misjudged her. She just seemed so young. Her skin was ultra-smooth. Her freckles and heart-shaped face were captivating. The freckles made her appear innocent. She looks like a fairy-tale princess dressed in a hoodie and jeans, not an intelligent, powerful witch.

She’s perfect. He’d never felt so strong, so right, before. He settled his determination on the goal.

Get my head straight. With her help.