After so many years alone, it seemed as natural as breathing to press herself closer and take comfort in his nearness.
She wasn’t alone any longer.
Neither of them was.
He nuzzled her neck then sank his fangs into her. Kelsey shivered as heat danced through her veins. She could feel his mouth drawing against her flesh, feel his cool body warm. The tension in the air grew thick, hot, wrapping around them.
When he pulled away, she groaned, instinctively trying to draw him back to her, but it was too late. He licked the small wounds at her neck and she felt the faint tingle as her body healed it. Lifting her head, she stared up at him and trailed her fingers across his mouth. She needed him. She needed the strength of him, the warmth of their love. The comfort they could offer each other.
“Take me to bed,” she murmured softly.
Malachi’s dark, midnight eyes glowed. He lifted a long-fingered hand and cupped her cheek. “You have students and teachers awaiting you, pet.”
She reached between them, stroking him through his jeans. “I don’t care.”
“Well, then.” A smile curled his lips and he lifted her into his arms.
B ECAUSE she knew she’d come too close to death, Nessa didn’t leave the school the minute she had the strength to climb out of her bed.
She should have felt at home here. After all, she’d taught in this school for many, many years . . . back in that other life. That other life. She smiled without humor. She could break her life into two parts now . . . no, three.
Life with Elias. Life after Elias. And now . . . life after death.
Nessa didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to be around another soul—not a friend, not a student. Nobody. She couldn’t risk it. Another loss would destroy her.
Where’s your strength now, you stupid old bitch?
The sly, insulting whisper of Morgan’s voice stirred something inside her, the first embers of anger, selfdisgust. Something. But she couldn’t very well get angry, now could she?
After all, the girl wasn’t wrong.
Nessa’s strength was gone. She couldn’t find that strength again, and she didn’t want to.
She just wanted oblivion and if she couldn’t have that, then she wanted peace and solitude.
If she was alone, then she wouldn’t come to care about anybody again and if she didn’t come to care, she wouldn’t be shattered by another loss.
“Too many losses,” she murmured to herself. Far too many.
As her strength slowly returned, so did lucidity. Clear thoughts weren’t particularly welcome, but she had to face the facts. She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. Even if she didn’t particularly want to live, she didn’t want her friends to pay the price, and sooner or later, that would happen if she kept to this road.
Kelsey visited often, using books, movies and bribes of French chocolate and plum wine to draw Nessa out of her shell. As fond as Nessa was of her shell, though, she let her friend coax her outside.
As little as she cared for her own neck, for her own life, she did still care for her friends and she was tired of making them worry.
Within a week, her energy was back.
Thanks to the food they’d been pushing on her, she’d put on a few pounds.
And her mind was all too clear. That was the bothersome part about taking care of herself. It was harder to avoid thinking about things.
Memories taunted her, and the ever-present Morgan renewed her assault with glee.
She was tempted—for the first time since she’d realized that the bitch had taken to haunting her—to tell somebody else about her hitchhiker, see if anybody might have a clue how to get rid of the annoying ghost.
But she didn’t. If she seriously put her mind to it, she could probably think of a way to rid herself of Morgan.
It’s a sad thing in life when one hesitates to rid oneself of an enemy. But if nothing else, Morgan was a constant in Nessa’s life.
“How low I’ve sunk,” she whispered, staring off into
She wasn’t alone any longer.
Neither of them was.
He nuzzled her neck then sank his fangs into her. Kelsey shivered as heat danced through her veins. She could feel his mouth drawing against her flesh, feel his cool body warm. The tension in the air grew thick, hot, wrapping around them.
When he pulled away, she groaned, instinctively trying to draw him back to her, but it was too late. He licked the small wounds at her neck and she felt the faint tingle as her body healed it. Lifting her head, she stared up at him and trailed her fingers across his mouth. She needed him. She needed the strength of him, the warmth of their love. The comfort they could offer each other.
“Take me to bed,” she murmured softly.
Malachi’s dark, midnight eyes glowed. He lifted a long-fingered hand and cupped her cheek. “You have students and teachers awaiting you, pet.”
She reached between them, stroking him through his jeans. “I don’t care.”
“Well, then.” A smile curled his lips and he lifted her into his arms.
B ECAUSE she knew she’d come too close to death, Nessa didn’t leave the school the minute she had the strength to climb out of her bed.
She should have felt at home here. After all, she’d taught in this school for many, many years . . . back in that other life. That other life. She smiled without humor. She could break her life into two parts now . . . no, three.
Life with Elias. Life after Elias. And now . . . life after death.
Nessa didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to be around another soul—not a friend, not a student. Nobody. She couldn’t risk it. Another loss would destroy her.
Where’s your strength now, you stupid old bitch?
The sly, insulting whisper of Morgan’s voice stirred something inside her, the first embers of anger, selfdisgust. Something. But she couldn’t very well get angry, now could she?
After all, the girl wasn’t wrong.
Nessa’s strength was gone. She couldn’t find that strength again, and she didn’t want to.
She just wanted oblivion and if she couldn’t have that, then she wanted peace and solitude.
If she was alone, then she wouldn’t come to care about anybody again and if she didn’t come to care, she wouldn’t be shattered by another loss.
“Too many losses,” she murmured to herself. Far too many.
As her strength slowly returned, so did lucidity. Clear thoughts weren’t particularly welcome, but she had to face the facts. She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. Even if she didn’t particularly want to live, she didn’t want her friends to pay the price, and sooner or later, that would happen if she kept to this road.
Kelsey visited often, using books, movies and bribes of French chocolate and plum wine to draw Nessa out of her shell. As fond as Nessa was of her shell, though, she let her friend coax her outside.
As little as she cared for her own neck, for her own life, she did still care for her friends and she was tired of making them worry.
Within a week, her energy was back.
Thanks to the food they’d been pushing on her, she’d put on a few pounds.
And her mind was all too clear. That was the bothersome part about taking care of herself. It was harder to avoid thinking about things.
Memories taunted her, and the ever-present Morgan renewed her assault with glee.
She was tempted—for the first time since she’d realized that the bitch had taken to haunting her—to tell somebody else about her hitchhiker, see if anybody might have a clue how to get rid of the annoying ghost.
But she didn’t. If she seriously put her mind to it, she could probably think of a way to rid herself of Morgan.
It’s a sad thing in life when one hesitates to rid oneself of an enemy. But if nothing else, Morgan was a constant in Nessa’s life.
“How low I’ve sunk,” she whispered, staring off into
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