by Gina LaManna
Matthew gave a nod. “I’d say you have been wildly successful.”
“Which means my time has come to an end in the borough,” Willa’s mother said. “My daughter is happy now. Happy-ish, I should say. I know that my presence and illness weigh on her, and it’s time for me to stop holding her back. Did you know she had an offer to work on The Isle? She even talked about taking the training course for MAGIC, Inc. headquarters. Of course, I don’t know why anyone would want to move to Minnesota, but there you have it.” She gave an easy shrug. “I know the only reason she hasn’t gone is because of me.”
“Those are her choices to make,” Matthew said. “As you said, you raised a strong and independent woman. Don’t you think Willa can make the decision that’s best for her?”
“That’s the problem. She’s not making the decision that’s best for her. She’s making the decision that suits her well enough while I’m alive.”
“I respectfully disagree, ma’am—er, Kady,” Matthew said with a decisive shake of his head. “And I respectfully disagree that you have any business making those decisions for her. The second part of parenting, once your child has been raised, is to let them be free.”
“I know, and I am, but—”
“You’re not.” Matthew waved a hand to interrupt. “Let me tell this story another way.”
Ms. Bloomer sat back in bed, pulled the comforter high, and settled in with a difficult-to-please smile plastered on her face. “I’m listening, Captain.”
“I’ve been alive for a long, long time.”
“How long?”
“Dani would like to know that, too,” Matthew said, “though it’s nobody’s business but mine.”
Ms. Bloomer pursed her lips together in amusement. “Born before or after the 1800’s?”
“Before,” he said, in a rare burst of a smile. “That’s all you’ll get from me on the subject.”
“Carry on, then, old man.”
“My parents died many years ago. Centuries,” he said. “My mother was...she was the sweetest woman.”
Ms. Bloomer smiled as he reminisced.
“Believe it or not, I was a normal kid, a normal teen, a normal twenty-something until I was finally changed.” Matthew went on, his dark eyes gazing into some far-off past. “Times were different then, but she...some things are timeless. She read endless books to me. Walked hand in hand with me until I was too old to hold her hand. Even when my siblings were born, I always felt special. Unique. I was one of many children but always her oldest. She made each of us feel loved in our own way.”
Then Matthew’s eyes clouded, and he hesitated.
“You don’t have to go on,” Ms. Bloomer said.
“It’s been a while since I’ve talked about her,” Matthew admitted, “but I think it’s important for you to hear. When my mother took ill, I was away...working. It was a quick illness, hers, and I didn’t make it back in time to say goodbye.”
Ms. Bloomer’s eyes welled with tears that Matthew himself could not cry. When she blinked, a fat droplet slid down her cheek, leaving a salty streak of damp behind.
“I have been fortunate enough to live with that regret for centuries,” Matthew said wryly. “At the time, I felt like I couldn’t make it back. As if my work, or the world, would end if I took a break from it.” He gave a dry laugh. “Look at me now, hundreds of years older. The world hasn’t ended, and I still have a job.”
Kady tried for a watery smile and failed. “I’m sorry, Matthew, but I’m sure your mother knew how much you loved her.”
“Maybe, but I’ll always wonder, won’t I?” he said. “Times were different then. I couldn’t pick up a Comm and get in touch with her. I couldn’t tell her that I loved her from a distance, I couldn’t...”
He broke off, upset. Kady stroked his stony skin, his cool and pale hand.
“Sorry,” he said with a muffled cough of apology. “I don’t generally get emotional, but it’s been a long time since I’ve discussed this with anyone, and I’m losing track of my point.”
“I understand, Matthew.”
“You don’t understand,” he said sharply, “if you think the answer for Willa is not to be here any longer.”
“But—”
“You’re not holding her back; give your daughter more credit than that. If Willa wanted to be somewhere else, she would be there. We both know that. Willa is here because she chooses to be with you—and that’s it. To say otherwise is to diminish her character, and I won’t let you do that.”
“She could be anything she wants in this life! And unlike you, she doesn’t have centuries to reinvent herself. She has one life—a limited number of years, Matthew. Things are different.”
“Take me back to the time when my mother was alive,” Matthew said, his voice piercingly quiet, “and I’d trade it all. I’d give up my immortality and my career to be with her. You know, I was changed the night she died.”
Ms. Bloomer blinked. “What?”
Matthew gave a nod. “I’ll spare you the details but suffice to say the timing couldn’t have been worse. If I’d gone to see her like I should have, I may never have been changed.”
“You wouldn’t have met Dani.”
Matthew nodded. “And now that I have, I would never give her up. I would never give the life of a vampire up if it means more time with her. When her time—our time together—comes to an end, that will be all for me, as well. I have nothing left on earth to live for after such things.”
“Then you know how I feel.”
“No. You do have something to live for—you have Willa. If you ask my opinion, Willa is lucky in some ways. Because of your illness, she’s spent time with you that she might not have had otherwise. Maybe she would have gone off to MAGIC, Inc., but so what? Would it have made her happier than spending this time with you? I think if you asked her, she’d tell you the same thing I’m telling you—that she’s grateful for this time together. Things happen for a reason, Ms. Bloomer—I’ve learned that in my long existence on this earth.”
“If things happen for a reason, then why didn’t you end up home with your mother?”
“I wasn’t supposed to be there,” Matthew said vehemently. “I have to believe that. I have to believe she knew I loved her when she died. How else could I live with myself every day? I have to trust that the bond we had together—a mother and her eldest son—was strong enough to withstand the distance. The time apart. The lack of communication because in those days, it wasn’t simple. And I’ve come to terms with that, and I do believe it. I was supposed to meet Danielle. She makes me...she is the person I’ve been born to meet. The person I’ve been waiting to love my entire life.”
“Then why don’t you love her?”
“I do love her!”
“Love is a verb, Matthew King!” Ms. Bloomer’s face darkened. “You say you love her, but what are you doing to win her back? She’s hurting for you, too. You broke her heart. Don’t expect her to come crawling back to you. If you love that woman like you say you do, then you’d better be ready to fight hard to get her back. I’m not promising an easy battle, Captain, but if all you say is true—it’ll be well worth the fight.”
Matthew stood abruptly, uncomfortable with the way this conversation had turned. His chest felt tight, his body constricting with emotions. The prick of something behind his eyes that should be tears, though biologically, they couldn’t fall.
“Why did you set up an appointment with Dr. Johnston?” Matthew reverted to stiff, procedural questions because it was the only way he could handle the moment. “What did you know about him?”
“There were rumors,” Kady started in a breathy whisper, “that he had a new line of pain medication that could ease...one’s final days.”
“Assisted suicide?”
“Hardly,” she snapped. “I’m not looking to kill myself, Captain, I’m looking for relief from this horrid pain. Twenty years of doctors diagnosing and misdiagnosing—I’m sick of it. I just wa
nted to escape.”
“What did the rumors say about the doctor?”
“That he had a new line of herbal products that weren’t yet street legal, though they were working on getting them approved,” she said. “One might call them experimental.”
“And you dabbled.”
“I did,” she said, “because the risk was worth it to me. If the doctors couldn’t cure my illness, but they could provide relief from the pain, the choice seems obvious, doesn’t it?”
Matthew gave a slight nod of his head. “The catch?”
“The catch...” she hesitated. “He would only treat terminally ill people.”
“Because he knew people were dying from it.”
“I can imagine that might be the case, though it was never confirmed,” Ms. Bloomer said. “Obviously, it was illegal for him to prescribe it to me, but Mr. King, I signed up for it. I knowingly begged him for a relief from my illness.”
“Fine. But as you said, it’s illegal. And the others...”
Ms. Bloomer shook her head. “Someone must have gotten their hands on the Herbals, or the formula, and began selling them on the street. That is truly horrible.”
“And it’s why we have regulations,” Matthew snapped. “So these things don’t happen to innocent people. A young woman takes some new medicine as relief from stress, or a headache, or sleepless nights, and...” Matthew waved a hand. “Soon enough, she’s dead.”
Ms. Bloomer’s tears fell fast and hard. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said, the wind deflating from his sails. “I shouldn’t have come here. Dani should have handled this.”
“No, I’m glad you came.”
“Right.” Matthew stifled a dry laugh, pausing as he reached the door. “Ms. Bloomer, I know your illness is horrible. You don’t deserve any of it. But there’s a silver lining in that you had time with your daughter than many people will never have. Take it from me. Don’t give up this fight prematurely.”
“You think I’m selfish for wanting to be free of this life.”
“No,” Matthew said. “I don’t think that at all. I’m just giving you an opinion from the other side.”
“Captain.” Ms. Bloomer held out her arms and gave a thin smile. “I’ve never gotten a hug from a vampire before.”
Matthew froze in the doorway, then turned slowly on his heel to face the shrunken woman. He made his way across the room with soundless steps and extended his arms as he neared. Kady sank into his solid embrace, clasping his firm body tight as her wet cheeks brushed against his shirt. Two sets of tears had cried there today, Matthew realized. And he couldn’t help but wonder if both were his fault.
“Don’t give up your fight, either,” she whispered in his ear. “Love will conquer all, Captain.”
He pulled back slightly. “I won’t if you won’t.”
Ms. Bloomer kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
It wasn’t exactly an agreement, but Matthew took it. He had to because that moment contained the last bit of self-control he had for the evening. Bursting through the door, he descended the stairs like lightning, finding Nurse Anita waiting in the lounge with the two women, checking on her patient.
Matthew gave them one quick glance, then looked to Dani. “Come,” he instructed her simply.
Dani stood, recognizing the wary tone in his voice. “Matthew—is everything alright?”
“Go on,” Willa said, ushering her friend out. “Thank you for everything.”
“Get,” Nurse Anita said, also recognizing Matthew’s distress. “I’ll stay as long as I’m needed tonight. Go on, Detective.”
Matthew strode out of the house without a backward glance, but as the moon hit his skin, turning him to a living statue, he paused.
Light footsteps pitter-pattered, coming to halt a short distance behind him.
Matthew whirled, his hands landing on her face—pale moonbeams under the night sky as he drew Danielle toward him. Their lips met in a ferocious kiss, a heated tangle that tore him apart from the inside out.
Dani froze for a moment, stuck in the embrace, and then melted. She responded, her hands coming to instinctively tear at Matthew’s hair. Her nails dragged over his skin, barely leaving an indention as he cupped her to his chest.
“Come,” he said again. “I’m taking you home.”
Chapter 13
I woke slowly the next morning, opening one eye at a time to find sunlight streaming through my bedroom windows. A second surprise waited for me on the other half of the bed, his naked chest a firm wall of stone, his eyes open and soft, murky in the early morning light.
The shy smile parted my lips before I knew what was happening, and it had the effect of magic on Matthew’s face. He broke into a grin, his features softening as he wrapped his arms tighter around my body and folded me against his chest. Closing my eyes, I inhaled the distinctive male musk of Matthew—clean and woodsy and sharp—an expensive Spell Splash, as he would settle for nothing less than the best.
Except for me, I realized halfheartedly as I let my body sink against his. I was full of imperfections, yet somehow, we found ourselves wrapped in one another’s embrace time after time. Even now, well after we’d broken up and gone our separate ways, we couldn’t seem to stay apart. He was my drug, my weakness, my kryptonite, and I was his. It was a beautiful, brutal combination that left me breathless, heartbroken, and desperately, madly in love.
“What does this mean for us?” I asked, trailing my fingers lightly down his chest as I allowed my eyes to open and stare at the delicate, chiseled outline of muscle. “I didn’t—ah—expect for that to happen.”
“Neither did I,” he said, stroking my hair with gentle touches that lulled me into a dreamlike state. “May I point out that I’m glad it did? Strictly for the record, of course.”
I laughed, nuzzling against him. After his fiery kiss the previous evening, Matthew and I had found ourselves storming into my place in a whirl of heat and flames and pent up emotions. My heart had broken all over again at the thought of Willa losing her mother, and something in me had been drawn toward Matthew. He was like cool water to a burn, a soothing, healing presence that promised protection and safety and love. And he had delivered in a very big way.
He’d relished, cherished, and savored every second, as had I, and he’d only let me drift off after a wordless night together when the sun burst its first fingers of light over the horizon. Only then had I gently chided him to remind him that unlike vampires, this witch needed sleep. He’d grudgingly pulled me to his chest and, I suspected, held me through the rest of the night and into morning as I drifted into dreams.
He’d always liked to watch me sleep. A fact I’d found quite creepy when we first started dating, but one I had grown to find endearing. He took such joy in the small action that I gave up fighting him on it, especially after he explained why. He missed not having to sleep—not being able to drift off side by side with the woman he loved. So, I found it impossible to ask him to leave.
“I’m not sad it happened either,” I admitted, finding my cheeks blushing with the admission. “If anything, I would say that has...ah, improved with time.”
Matthew’s low, throaty chuckle sent heat skittering through me as he raised my chin until our gazes met. “I love you, Danielle. I want to be with you. Last night—this morning—everything about it was incredible. You’re incredible, and I...well, you know how I feel.”
“Matthew...” I trailed off with a shake of my head. “We can’t fall into bed one night in a flurry of emotions and think that makes everything okay. We have years of history.”
“History, yes. I know you almost as well as you know yourself,” he said. “I love you, Danielle—I would never let anything hurt you.”
“This isn’t about something hurting me, it’s about us being together. It’s a delicate thing, Matthew—we’re sort of working together right now, and this was just one night.” At the flicker in Matthew’s eye, I pressed a
finger gently to his lips and gave a shake of my head. “I’m not arguing that it was real. That every moment was precious and amazing. But sex doesn’t make for a relationship.”
“You’re not—” Matthew cleared his throat with some difficulty—“otherwise attached, are you?”
“No, of course not! What made you think that?”
“Yesterday, you smelled like him.”
“Grey? Yes, we spent some time together. As friends, Matthew—take a breath and don’t hyperventilate.”
“I don’t even need to breathe, Dani. I’m not hyperventilating.”
I gave him a playful scowl. “You know what I mean. Don’t go making a big deal out of this. Look—we’re fighting already.”
“This isn’t a fight.” Matthew’s eyes narrowed. “You’d know it if I wanted to fight, Dani. This isn’t it.”
“I know.” I heaved a sigh. “But that’s another barrier between us. You get so possessive. I love you, Matthew. That’s not news—I always have, and a part of me will always love you. We had—have, I don’t know—something special. But you are not in control of me—my friends, my work, my decisions. I’m a single woman, remember? You broke up with me.”
“I remember clearly.”
“Good,” I said. “Don’t forget it.”
“If we reunite,” Matthew said, “there will be compromises.”
“Of course,” I acknowledged. “If we are together. This...” I gestured to our naked, intertwined bodies. “Is not together.”
Matthew let out a rare, cheeky smile. “I’d call this about as together as man and woman may get.”
More of the flush, this time up the back of my neck. “Fine, but you know what I’m saying. We’re adults and we can choose to do this without a relationship if we want.”
“I don’t have any interest in sex without a relationship when it comes to you.” Matthew pressed his lips to mine, not yet kissing me, just speaking his promise. “I want all of you. I want everything. I’m selfish when it comes to you, Detective.”
I wriggled closer to him, unable to push back from the warmth. The comfort, the ease with which we could be together. The greatness we could achieve as one. Even at our very worst, we’d never stopped loving one another. If it hadn’t been for the element of danger that’d seeped into our relationship, we likely would’ve never broken apart.