His Ordinary Kiss (His Kiss Book 2) Read online

  I found an axe on the wall and passed it off to a boy no older than twelve. “Be careful with that,” I warned him, reaching for another. We reached for every rake, broom, and scythe tacked to the wall, and Glenda’s daughter set to work lighting torches for everyone to carry.

  Meanwhile, the thuds became louder, followed by frantic scratching at the walls and the tell-tale sound of noses sniffing the perimeter of the barn.

  Fear tasted metallic on my tongue, but for the first time ever, it was different. My fear wasn’t so much for me, or even for the other people present, but for the tiny, defenseless peanut in my belly.

  I hefted a viciously sharp spade in one hand and took a makeshift torch from the pile, lighting it off of Glenda’s. The bangs and shuffles outside had gotten louder.

  “Can they get through the wards?” I asked Glenda.

  “No.” But her tone belied her worry.

  A long moment passed of silence. No snuffles under the door. No solid thwack of dog bodies on the walls.

  And then we smelled smoke.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Thick, gray smoke billowed through the crack beneath the door, joining up with the sweet scent of our burning hay.

  “They’re smoking us out,” I said, heart thundering.

  “If we leave, we’ll drop the wards. And then they have us exactly where they want us. Shit!” Glenda took a deep breath and began to cough.

  “Maybe it’s just outside,” I reasoned. “They’re trying to fill the barn with smoke so we leave. We can open windows in the hayloft and the smoke can seep out. We’ll just lay on the floor…”

  I trailed off, because fire crackled on the door, beginning to eat through the wood.

  “It’s been dry for days here,” Glenda’s daughter snuffed her torch and reached for the twins. “This place will be an inferno in five minutes. We have to go.”

  “We will die!” Glenda argued.

  “If we stay here, we’ll die,” I cut in.

  With no choice left, we took our weapons and the children, and headed for the back door.

  Glenda threw out an arm, pausing.

  “We don’t have time!” her daughter snapped.

  “Wait. They’ll expect us to come out this way. They’re waiting for us.” Glenda spoke low and quick, her hand covering her mouth to muffle the sound. “We have to go through the fire.”

  “How?” I glanced back — the door was almost completely engulfed.

  “Axes.” Glenda snatched the axe from the young boy, handing him her scythe. “We race for the woods. There’s a creek not twenty yards in — we cross it, we’re safe. For now.”

  We rushed to the other end of the barn and began to hack at the burning wood.

  Glenda was right. Our axes melted through the burning wood like butter, and though we might have gained some burns on the way through, it was clear and empty on the other side of the door.

  I paused on the outside, waving everybody on. “To the woods! Keep going! Don’t look back!”

  The littlest ones found places on hips, but everybody else ran. I saw the sweet-faced girl still carrying the infant, her face determined as she jumped over the flames and followed the crowd to the forest.

  When the last adult leapt over the growing fire, I leaned in to make sure the barn was empty.

  Just in time to see the back door shatter.

  Wood splintered down like rain. A giant black wolf skidded across the concrete floor to a stop, his eyes on me.

  I could barely hear over the sound of my heart in my ears. I glanced over my shoulder to see the rear of the group still outside the tree line.

  I couldn’t let the wolves see them.

  I howled, thinking Hey, maybe it’ll confuse them, and then I charged back inside the barn, my spade held before me as if it could actually do damage against a wolf the size of a racehorse.

  I could have imagined it, but it did seem the wolf paused when I made my grand entrance. Or that could have been the whole “time standing still” thing that happens right before you die.

  The wolf snarled, his teeth abnormally white in his midnight face. He launched through the air, and even though I expected him to land on me, he veered around me. I knew innately he smelled the kids.

  “No way!” I yelled, leaping after him. I landed on his back, one hand wrapping in his thick fur as I brought the sharp spade down on his shoulder blades.

  The blade sunk a couple inches into his hide, and he yelped, bucking me off like a bull in a rodeo ring. I hit the ground on my back, air whooshing from my lungs. I stared at the smoky ceiling, struggling to find my breath again.

  Before I could recover, the black wolf came to stand over me. His tongue dangled from his mouth as he panted, maybe from the heat, maybe from the gaping wound in his back. A trail of spittle fell onto my bare neck, startling me. I finally sucked in a breath.

  I tried to scoot back, but the creature put a big paw on my abdomen and pressed me into the concrete.

  “No no no,” I said, shoving at his weight as it crushed me. The baby. Oh my God, the baby.

  Other large shadows loomed from the shadowy smoke; more wolves coming to circle me. I counted a dozen as I lay pinned, his paw stationary but claws cutting into my stomach. I felt like fallen prey, watching my inevitable death moving closer.

  The black wolf looked away from me, his eyes meeting the wolf closest to him. Some kind of communication seemed to happen outside the realm of my comprehension, but the second wolf shook his head and motioned to the fire now enveloping an entire wall of the barn.

  The black wolf growled.

  I had no time to react. His powerful jaws clamped into my ribcage. Teeth pierced my abdomen, hot pain lancing through my torso. He flung his powerful head, and I went with him. His sharp teeth ripped into me as I slung free of his jaws and sailed through the air.

  I hit the wall of the barn, my vision going black before I hit the floor.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I suffered a lot at the hands of my father.

  Most little girls grow up liberally throwing around the word “Daddy” and riding on their father’s shoulders as they skipped through Disneyland or some shit.

  I learned early to stay out of my daddy’s way, or I’d have something else to hide from Mom.

  Twenty scars all over my body. Mostly in places clothes would cover afterward. Never my face or my hands. He never physically hurt Cole, though his damage was still great after years of emotional beat downs.

  Daddy was thorough in his torment, driven by the alcohol but egged on by his sociopathic need to inflict pain.

  “I’m not proud.”

  I opened my eyes, blinking into a dark room.

  I sat straight up, recoiling from the figure beside the bed.

  My father, as he’d looked when he was still alive, before he drank himself into a half-coma three months after we left him and wrapped his pickup around a telephone pole.

  “I was a fuck up,” he went on, shaking his head. He sat forward in the chair, his head hanging and his hands clasped between his spread knees. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt, his brown hair too shaggy. “Man, Vespers. There was seriously something fucked up in me.”

  I scooted to the wall, trying to put as much distance between him and me as I could. I recognized the room — it was my old bedroom. The disconnect was that I’d never sat in this bed my current age. Mom, Cole, and I fled that house when I was ten and never looked back.

  “You gotta believe me, baby.” He sat up, wiping his palms on his jeans. “I- I was broken. Felt like I lived outside my own damn skin, most the time.”

  “You’re dead,” I told him, tugging the Barbie comforter higher, like a shield between us.

  “Fucking miracle, that is.” He nodded. “I deserved to die.”

  “If you know you’re dead, and I know you’re dead, then what the hell is happening right now?”

  “You’re in the hospital, baby girl. That wolf got you good. You’re down for the
count.”

  I put a hand on my side, remembering the vicious tearing of teeth as I flew through the air. I hit the wall hard.

  “I wanna do something for you. Something to make up for all those times I let you down.”

  I stared at him, at a loss for words.

  “When you die, there ain’t no heaven or hell, baby. Just one big world on the other side that you gotta figure out for yourself, just like life. I can heal you here, in this place. It’s like an ‘in between.’” He chuckled. “Never thought I’d be talking dead people and the after life with you. Never thought I’d see you again. Be able to say I’m sorry.”

  “What can you do?” I ask.

  “I can lay my hands on your head and send you back. Heal your mind. I can’t fix the wound in your side, but I can try to knit the damage inside.”

  “Will it save my daughter?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t promise that. But that baby ain’t gonna survive if her momma doesn’t.”

  I cringed as he stood, cowering away from him on instinct.

  “I need you to trust me.” His voice was the softest I’d ever heard it. “Can you trust me? Just right here, right now. Let me make things right.”

  The tears pooling in his eyes convinced me. In all the years he’d tormented me and Cole, I’d never seen him show emotion.

  I pushed away the Barbie comforter and lay down. I kept my eyes open, waiting for the tables to turn, but nothing happened. He spread his big hands over my head and closed his eyes.

  I felt warmth from his palms. Not just the regular warmth of another person’s skin, but raw power, as if he were transferring heavy energy into me. It made me lightheaded.

  He moved lower, the heat flowing over my stomach. As he stepped further away from me, I noticed his form had become translucent.

  “Dad?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re… fading.”

  He nodded. “I know. Hush now.”

  Within moments, he’d nearly disappeared. His palms moved away and he knelt by my head. “Your ba gnoi is a great lady, Ves, but she’s loonier than a tune. That baby in there is a boy.”

  “I can’t see you anymore.”

  “You won’t again. I’m giving you the second chance I never had. I love you. I’m sorry for everything.” His lips fluttered by my temple like a butterfly’s wings, and then he was gone.

  I drifted away.

  * * *

  I LEFT BEHIND THE WARM darkness of my subconscious for the hard, cold daylight of a hospital room.

  I blinked several times, willing my vision to clear.

  Trevor slept in a chair beside my bed, his blue jean jacket draped over his shoulders. Dark circles had taken up residence beneath his eyes, and his five o’clock shadow had ventured into three-day territory.

  A heart monitor beeped gently beside my bed. I lifted my hand, studying the various clamps and needles connecting me to the machine and IV fluids. I’d never been in the hospital before.

  I cupped my belly, heartbeat quickening.

  “She’s still in there.” Trevor’s molasses voice wrapped around me, warming me from the inside out.

  “He,” I said, turning to catch his gray eyes.

  “He?”

  I nodded and opened my arms.

  Trevor discarded his jacket on the back of the chair and crawled into bed beside me — on the left side, away from the stinging pain of my wound. He kissed me, just the tips of his fingers on my chin.

  “Did you win?” I asked.

  He nodded. “At a cost. We lost a lot of good wolves.”

  “Did the kids make it?”

  “Thanks to you.”

  “Not just me.”

  He snuggled closer and kissed my neck. “You scared me.”

  “How do you think I felt?” I chuckled, but stopped when I realized it hurt like hell.

  “I’m sorry I dragged you into it.”

  “You didn’t know what was going on.”

  “No, but maybe I should have told you the truth about me before we got here. Before we got serious.”

  “There wasn’t a whole lot of time in between being friends and not-just-friends,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, guess you’re right.”

  “I like your family, but I think I’m ready to go home now. Before I get bit again.”

  Trevor chuckled, kissing my cheek with a loud smack. “Slow your roll, princess. You are home.”

  As if to punctuate his confusing statement, the door opened and Boston bustled inside carrying a purple vase of wildflowers and magazines. Ian trailed behind her with a bouquet of colored balloons.

  “You’re awake!” Boston gasped, nearly dropping the flowers. She deposited her goods haphazardly on the windowsill and came to give me a hug, sobbing. Happy tears, I hoped.

  “You had us worried,” Ian told me, tying the balloons to the back of a chair.

  I gestured to my best friend having a wet, tearful moment on my neck. “Obviously.”

  For the rest of the day, my hospital room had a revolving door. Cole dropped by with normal food for me. Mom showed up with the lawyer on her arm — so they were on again. Gladys and her husband Bernie brought sweets from the shop, and she sternly reminded me I needed to get better so I could get back to work. She missed me. Anna stopped in on her way to the airport for her big Irish vacation.

  By the time the sun sank over the horizon, Trevor and I were alone, cuddled in bed with the television on silent above us.

  He shifted, reaching into his back pocket. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

  “I’m too ornery to die,” I joked. I hadn’t told him about my dream where Dad had saved me. I would. But not yet. It seemed too precious, like my father’s only gift to me.

  Trevor held up a little blue velvet box. He flipped the lid open to expose the delicate silver ring inside.

  I wasn’t scared this time. I had no desire to run from him or the ring, even if I’d been in a position where I could. The only desire I had was to see that diamond on my finger STAT.

  “What do you say?” Trevor asked. “Be my wife.”

  “It’s awful pretty in the box, but that’s not where it belongs.” I held out my hand and grinned as he fumbled to get the ring out of the box and on my finger.

  He kissed my fingers. “I love you. More than anything. Thank you can handle being married to a werewolf?”

  “Ask me again when we’ve been married thirteen years, and I’m dealing with a pre-pubescent wolf child.”

  “What do you think about living with our pre-pubescent wolf child somewhere other than Tory?”

  “Like Germany?” I asked, my heart skipping a beat.

  “Yeah. Like Germany. Or France. Or Spain. I don’t care. As long as we’re together.”

  I leaned in to kiss him, pausing as our lips touched. “Nothing will ever be ordinary about our life together, will it?”

  He grinned wolfishly. “No, ma’am.”

  “Good.” I closed the gap and gave him a toe-curling, soul-searing kiss to seal the deal.

  Did you enjoy HIS ORDINARY KISS? Tell the world! Please consider leaving a review where you bought it, even if it’s only an informal line or two about why you did/did not like the book. Reviews are absolutely crucial to an author’s success in this digital world, so your support and generosity would be MUCH appreciated!

  The next book in the His Kiss series, His Magical Kiss, is coming soon!

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  If You Liked HIS ORDINARY KISS…

  Check out STALKED BY NIGHT!

  She put an ocean between herself and her mysterious past, but that clearly wasn’t enough to keep it from catching up to her.

  Vale Avari trades the humid American south for the rainy English countryside, hoping it’ll be a nice change of pace for a girl who can bend steel with her mind. But instead of peace and tranquility, she hear
s unearthly sounds in the night and whispered rumors of the Wild Hunt preying on her new neighbors.

  When the disappearances hit too close to home, Vale must discover if a supernatural myth is really responsible, or if the culprits are all too human. Plagued by a brute with a violent history and lusting after a dark-eyed man with a secret, Vale must turn the tables and hunt the hunters before time runs out.

  Because it looks like Vale is next.

  Fans of Kim Harrison’s The Hollows or Ilona Andrews’ Kate Daniels series will love Vale’s snark and strength, in this series reviewers call an “effortless blend of romance, fantasy, and the darker shades of the supernatural.”

  Snag your copy of STALKED BY NIGHT today, and step into Vale Avari’s world, where the extraordinary is ordinary and myth comes to life.

  Find it at Amazon.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  HEATHER MARIE ADKINS writes too much but still too little. She also has too many cats, not enough tequila, and a love affair with procrastination that burns with the passion of a thousand fiery suns.

  She is the USA Today bestselling author of more novels than she can remember: Stalked by Night (Vale Avari, Book One); Abigail (Witch Faery, Book One); Wiccan Wars (Wiccan Wars Trilogy, Book One); Mother of All (Hedgewitch Mysteries, Book One); and Heaven Below (Goddess of Ptalonia, Book One).

  Heather resides in north-central Kentucky with a sarcastic cop who is entirely too dependent on puns. When she’s not plotting her next story or herding felines, she works at the library.

  For more information on Heather and her books, visit her website at heathermarieadkins.com.

  Heather loves to hear from readers! She can be found daily (mostly) at her blog, heather.bishoffs.com, so visit and leave a comment!

  You can email her at [email protected]

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