Chapter Thirty: Gabe Morelli

The Year 1515

Pee Dee Settlement, NC

Three months passed before Gabe came back.

There were now exactly sixty-four humans in the settlement, with Winfred the last remaining witch. Not that the other settlers were were aware of this. Less than a dozen humans had witnessed the witches' deaths at the Hanging Fields, Henry being one of them. As far as they were concerned, Zaif was also a witch. They were wrong, of course, but it was something he allowed them to believe. Since he wielded the powers that killed so many, he needed them to fear that he could easily kill them too, otherwise Henry would gladly put him to death.

Sorcha was believed to have been cured of her vampirism as a result of the witches' sacrifice, which was far more digestible than acknowledging that she was a human who had been wrongly accused. It was Zaif who became the bigger concern. After initially wanting him exiled, the settlers later allowed him to remain a distant member of the community for one reason only: the vampir. They were convinced that word of Zaif's powers had caused the neighbouring vampir to decamp and move farther afield, removing them as a threat. The real reason, Winifred knew, had more to do with Gabe than Zaif. He was likely back with his former vampir community.

So she was surprised when he returned as quickly as he did.

Entering her home with a small basket of vegetables that she had gathered from her allotment outside, she saw Gabe inside waiting for her.

"How long have you been here?" she asked him, putting the basket down on the table.

"A while," he replied, grinning. "I didn't want to disturb you while you were on your hands and knees."

"As I recall, that's exactly when you like to disturb me," she said, fussing unnecessarily with items on the table as she hid a smile sparked by a certain memory.

Gabe slid up behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder. "Come with me."

"Yes, I remember you saying that too," she jested.

Laughing, Gabe straightened and turned her around to face him, his hands remaining on her waist. "I mean, away from here," he said, his face then turning serious. "I heard about what happened at the Hanging Fields. I'm sorry you lost everyone."

Winifred's eyes lowered. "I both lost and gained things far greater than the witches of this community."

"What do you mean?"

Winifred sighed. This was going to be as difficult for her to say as it was for him to hear. So instead she decided to show him. She removed his hands from her waist, twisted to take a knife from the table and pressed the sharp tip into her hand, drawing blood.

Gabe snatched the knife from her. "Winnie, what are you –?"

His question lingered unfinished as he watched the cut heal itself.

"I'm now immortal, like you," she explained, taking the knife from him and placing it back on the table.

She'd been turned? Gabe's jaw tensed, his lip curled, his fists clenched. He backed away, pacing the room, trying to push back the fury that was building inside him. This was not the place to release it, not in front of her. He should have been here for her. He should have protected her. "Tell me who did this to you and I will rip them apart."

"I've not been turned," she explained. "I'm simply immortal."

Gabe stopped pacing, his anger turning into confusion. "An immortal witch? How is that possible?"

"The talisman that killed the witches contained the beginnings of a spell in which I had trapped my sins. When it was used to save Sorcha, it purged me of all those sins. One of those sins was my envy of your immortality. I loved you and I knew that even if I gave in to that love, you would live far beyond me. You would eventually forget about me."

He moved quickly towards her, looking down at her, his hand coming up to her face, caressing away the pain she must have once felt when she struggled to submit to her feelings for him. "Never," he told her firmly. "I would never forget you. I would never stop loving you, no matter how long I lived." His lips formed a slow smile. "But you wanted to be immortal and now you are. We never have to be apart."

Winifred removed his hand from her face. "My monthly bleed is back. My anger towards my infertility is another sin that was purged. I am fertile again."

Gabe tried to process what this meant to her. Her eyes showed concern but the rest of her expression was unreadable. Surely this was incredible news. She'd told him she'd stopped bleeding after having a miscarriage many years ago. It had devastated her, knowing she could never have children. It had devastated him to hear it, learning how much she wanted them and knowing she never could. So, in a moment of ignorant, unselfish happiness for her, he beamed in excitement, scooped her up by the waist and attempted to kiss her.

But she turned her head, avoiding the kiss.

It was then that Gabe realized what this meant for him. His excitement dwindled. He lowered her slowly back to her feet and stepped away, taking in her body language. Now he understood why she wasn't joining him in his joy. He couldn't give her children. He was the one stopping her from being happy during her moment of happiness. He cupped his hand over his face, sighing, his fingers pressing into the tension building there and wiping it away as he dragged his hand downwards. He wouldn't be the cause of her feeling this way. He would make this work. They would make this work.

"I understand if you feel that you cannot stay with me, but you can," he said. He walked over to the table, his hands gripping the back of a wooden chair beside it. He needed to stabilize himself for what he was about to say. "If you want children then you may lie with other men. But you will stay with me." He said the final words firmly; no mean feat after the former words broke his heart.

Winifred kept her eyes on him, but didn't react. Her breathing was heavy.

"Did you hear me, Winnie?" Was he really being forced to say the words again? Then he would say them a thousand times, a thousand slices upon his heart, just to see the smile he needed to see. "You may lie with other men."

"I already have," she whispered, her eyes lowering.

He couldn't help it. The shock of her words hit him like a thunderbolt. A roar of anguish escaped him as he picked up the wooden chair and smashed it into the floor, leaving it worthy of nothing but slivers of firewood. He threw his hands over his face and continued to scream until his lungs were left with nothing but the same pain he felt in his heart.

"I have lain with no other man!" Winifred finally shouted, her heated words evaporating the tears that were forming in his eyes. "But you see how you react to it?! You see what it does to you?! What it would do to us?! There will be no children in my future with you in it!"

Gabe knew then that she had tested him, and he had failed. She was right. He would never be able to handle seeing her knowing she had allowed another man to touch her. The clash of love and pain would explode out of him in a wave of destruction. But he couldn't let her go, even for her own happiness, he was too selfish to let that happen. He strode up to her in determination, forcing her to back herself into a wall, unsure how he was going to react once he reached her.

He kissed her. He kissed her like it was the last time he was ever going to kiss her, and she reacted just as passionately, closing in on each other before their own fears could.

"Gabe," she panted breathlessly as his mouth made his way across her jaw and finally to her neck. "My final sin that was purged. It was my lust for you."

He brought his face up to hers, cupping her breast in his hand, his palm grazing over her erect nipple through her thin, white smock. "You think magic has rid you of your lust for me?" A hungry grin spread across his face. "The way your body reacts to me proves otherwise."

She was already arching her chest into him, pressing his palm deeper into her breast, her nipples painfully hard, craving his bare skin against her. She wanted him, of course she wanted him. She had once thought she felt shame in her lust for him, but that was never the case. She knew that now. The spell had known that. She had felt ashamed that she had fallen in love with him. That had been her sin. "Except it didn't rid me of my lust for you, Gabe. It rid me of my love for you."

Gabe slammed his hand flat against the wall beside her head so hard it startled her. Those words did not leave her mouth, he would not believe it. "You will not stop loving me until I permit you to stop loving me," he snapped, his face threateningly close to hers. "And if you do, you had best hope that I am dead first."

Her hand cupped his face. "I still care deeply for you –"

He shook his head at the words. They weren't enough. "No..."

"I still ache for you –"

"Winnie, please don't." The tears were building in his eyes. It couldn't be true.

"But as much as I want to feel that way again... I'm not in love with you anymore, Gabe."

"No!" he snapped, taking her by the chin, tilting her face up at him, pressing his fingers far too tightly into her skin. "You listen to me. I have never felt a love like yours. I have never loved anyone like I love you. Those feelings were real. We are real. If you are forcing me to spend an eternity without you, then I'm glad you are joining me in that eternity, because I will be on your mind every step of the way, and one day you will realize that this ache you feel is our love that's never left you." He released her, taking a few steps backwards. "Just as it will never leave me."

"Gabe –" she said.

There was too much sympathy in her tone for Gabe's liking. He held his hand up, stopping her. He would not leave here with her feeling sympathy for him.

Then, to his own surprise, Gabe began to chuckle. "Do you know when I fell in love with you? It was the moment I first saw you by the river. You were washing your clothes, wearing the same smock you're probably wearing now, shamelessly filthy with dirt, nothing over it, looking so vulnerable. But you weren't vulnerable, were you? The instant I laid my hands on you, you crushed my strength with your powers, you flooded my mind and body with pain, and yet there was only one thing I could think of in that moment. I thought you were the strongest, most incredibly beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life."

Winifred held her breath as he closed the distance between them, pressing up against her until she could feel his racing heartbeat against her own.

"So here we are again. The strongest, most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. Crushing me with your power. Flooding my mind and body with pain." He ran his eyes across her face, committing every speck of her to memory. "And I'm about to put my hands on you." He waited for her response as he started creeping his fingers along the skirt of her smock, gathering up the fabric in his fists. Seeing her breath quicken, her chest rising and falling, his eyes darkened. "What are you going to do about it this time?"

There could be no other response. Her lips crashed onto his, tongues immediately intertwining, her hands reaching behind his head, pulling him into her. He dared not separate his mouth from hers even to remove her clothing. He ripped at the smock with all his strength, tearing it through the middle, and continuing to tear until there wasn't a slip of material keeping his hands from her naked body. His hands caressed everywhere, committing every part of her to memory as he ached from knowing this could be the final time he touched her.

He worked his way down her body, his hands sliding over every curve and crevice, squeezing with his palm, stroking with the back of his hand, grazing her warm brown skin with the tips of his fingers. He stopped at her breasts, feeling her hardened nipples run between his fingers, and he was throbbing to be inside her. But that was not going to happen. He'd already decided that his final time with her was not going to be after she'd stopped loving him. Instead he touched her thinking of the last time he was inside her, when she was breathlessly gasping I love you, I love you, I love you, knowing that was exactly what sent him over the edge. He would never hear those words again.

She'd already parted herself for him as his hands slid between her legs, two fingers entering her, thrusting in her, curling inside her, while the other hand massaged her wetness against her most sensitive spot. She was right: she had never felt ashamed about this. She brazenly enjoyed everything he had to give her, and he would torture himself to give it to her again right now.

She broke from their kiss as she threw her head back, gasping for breath, moans between uncontrollable bursts of screaming, and he kissed along her neck, taking in every unique sound of her increasing pleasure, his stiffness becoming unbearable. She brought her leg upwards, curling it around his backside, as she took his fingers deeper, soaking them with her juices.

When her hand went down to his waistband, he closed the distance between them, his clothes pressing against the back of his hand that continued rubbing her. "Tell me you love me first," he breathed into her neck. "Please, just tell me you love me."

Her hand withdrawing was his only answer. But he never removed his hands from her. He continued rubbing and thrusting, giving her the one thing that she couldn't give him. "I love you, Winnie. I will always love you in life and in death." He felt her tense, knowing his words brought her closer to the edge. A tear ran down her cheek; her pain at being unable to return his love. So he asked only one final thing from her. One thing he knew she could give him. "Scream my name for me, Winnie."

And she did.