Page 36 of Eternal Devotion

Saliva pooled in my mouth, and I wanted to lean in and lick the throbbing artery, feel it thrum under my tongue, and taste the essence of his life as it flowed through his body into mine.

I didn’t move, didn’t trust myself not to sink my teeth into that tender, vulnerable spot and drink from him. The mind-bending pleasure would only be amplified if we were joined—or so I had been led to understand. I’d never yearned for both at once. One was pleasurable. The other was a necessity I tended to dislike and avoid for as long as possible.

So why did this desire rage to the surface now?

The blended temptations had never been a weakness of mine. Not like it was for others.

Why was Ensley so hard to resist?

As I tore my gaze from his trembling pulse, a glimmer of metal peeking from the collar of his T-shirt caught my eye. The incidents in the Jeep came back to me. The jolt of pain when I’d moved my hand over his pec toward the center of his chest, like I’d touch the element on a stove or put my hand in fire. The second burst of pain when I’d gone to kiss his neck.

“Your necklace. What is it?”

Although I had my suspicions, when Ensley plucked the chain from under his T-shirt and displayed the pendant, I retreated a few inches on instinct. My skin crawled.

“It’s a St. Christopher medallion. For protection.” He rolled it between a thumb and finger. “My mother gave it to me after my father died. I wear it for her, but I’m not sure I believe in its power.”

An invisible aura surrounded the pendant, triggering repulsion, fear, and extreme discomfort. Oh, it was powerful all right. The religious symbol was influential enough to cause pain when I touched it, and my skin pulled taut in its presence, itching and burning.

It wasn’t as dynamic as a cross, holy water, or communion wafers, but it was enough to disrupt energy. Enough to make me draw away during our encounter in the Jeep.

If Ensley had a cross on the chain, I doubted I would have been able to kiss him at all.

Regardless, when he tucked it away, a quiet fear remained. It was deeply ingrained in the curse. The irresistible urges that had taken me hostage a moment ago simmered. I still wanted Ensley with an urgency I couldn’t describe, but the medallion was a mental and physical barrier I couldn’t ignore.

Just don’t touch it, I told myself. It was an avoidable obstacle. An annoyance, nothing more.

As I struggled to shed the disquieting thoughts, Ensley touched my face, drawing me from my stupor. His skin was so warm against mine. I leaned into the touch, sighing and longing for something I would never get back.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “You got lost in your head for a second.”

“I’m marvelous.”

His smile was a thing of beauty.

“‘Marvelous,’” he mocked, using my accent. “May I kiss you, Mordecai?”

“There’s nothing I want more.” But, I didn’t say. But, but, but…

His lips touched mine, a tentative caress that had the power to stop my heart a second time had it been beating. Pendant momentarily forgotten, I melted against his mouth, seeking the hot brush of his tongue. His sweet flavor was all the nourishment I wanted. Something told me that his blood would carry a potency unlike any I’d tasted previously, and that was dangerous. Severing the connection when my task was over would not be as easy as it had been for the multitude of centuries before.

Was it worth the sacrifice? Who would erase my memories? Because I doubted this man would be easily forgotten. A thousand years from now, he would be dust, and I would still remember.

I closed my eyes and drifted on a timeless current, away from a reality where humans were mortals and desires like this were unsustainable.

For a fleeting moment, as he untucked my shirt, released the buttons one at a time, and guided me to lie on the settee, I could almost pretend I was human again, born in a time when secret rendezvous were unnecessary. Where men held hands in the open and went on dates to restaurants. Where they loved freely.

But when Ensley shed his tee and bent to kiss a tender path over my bare chest, a searing pain made me cry out and buck him off. He tumbled to the floor, hands splayed, terror in his hazel eyes. His hair had fallen from its bun and framed his face in wispy strands.

“Whoa. What did I do?”

I clutched the area over my sternum where his pendant had momentarily rested. I knew without looking that the skin would be marked. Floundering, I stammered, “It… it was… indigestion.”

I swung my legs to the ground and sat, keeping my palm flat against my chest as my senses realigned.

Ensley cautiously stood, snagging his shirt off the ground, a wary look of disbelief haunting his gaze. He didn’t believe me, and I couldn’t come up with a better excuse. So, for the second time that night, I broke my rules and reached out, calming his mind and stealing his apprehension.

Blurring the memory.