by Gina LaManna
“What about everything else?” I asked. “The reasons we broke up?”
“I’ve regretted breaking up with you every second.”
“You are the one who told me it was too dangerous.”
“I can control myself. I had my doubts, but I’ve thought for many long nights, and I’ve come to an agreement with myself: I will never feed from you again, I swear it.”
“You know I’m not worried about that. You’re the only one who worries about it.”
“It’s foolish to not worry about my nature.”
“I trust you.” I rested a hand against his chest. “You said you’d never hurt me.”
“And then I did,” Matthew said. “I’m not sure that’s a promise I can make to you again.”
“It’s a promise I can make for you,” I whispered. “I know you won’t hurt me—not physically, but I’m concerned now. I’m concerned that this will happen again in who knows how long? One year, five, ten, or twenty—it doesn’t matter. What happens if you lose control again and you can’t get past it, and then you decide to leave me after a lifetime together?”
“Dani—”
“That’s why we can’t be together,” I told him. “I love you, Matthew, but you can’t break my heart again. It’s—I would die. If you left me again, I would rather you took all my blood and killed me yourself.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“I’ve been through enough,” I told him. “These are my decisions to make alone. For now.”
“Tell me there’s a chance.” Matthew breathed into my hair as he cradled me, his words desperate. “I just need hope.”
I swallowed, my heart beating quickly. “I don’t know. I can’t promise anything.”
“Why’d you go to bed with me if we were nothing?”
“We’re not nothing! We’re something. If anything, we’re too much of everything!” I flung back the covers, surprising Matthew. I launched to my feet in a burst of manic energy, standing naked in front of him. I wasn’t embarrassed, wasn’t self-conscious, and even Matthew’s eyes didn’t waver from my face. “God, Matthew, I love you! That kiss last night, it brought back everything.”
Tears pricked my eyes, and I hated the sign of weakness. But with love and relationships came a level of vulnerability more painful than the worst of tortures. No enemy could hurt me half as bad as Matthew—the power rested in his hands. Hands of stone, hands of gentleness, hands that could guard my heart or crack it in two.
“I want to be with you, but I don’t think this is our time,” I said, my very soul weakening with the effort of the words. “You should take that as hope, Matthew. Our story is not over, but this is our intermission.”
“Why wait?” Matthew sat in bed, a god in his naked splendor. He looked gorgeous, unshakeable, save for the fear in his eyes. “We both want to be together.”
“Because it’s too soon. I’m reeling still, and I’m not...” My voice broke, a sob seeping out from my deepest depths. “I’m not myself yet. It would be unfair to you if I agreed to a relationship. I am not whole, Matthew. I am not there yet, and I need to get there alone.”
“I’ll help you. I’ll give you time, space, nurse you to health or let you find your way,” he pleaded. “Whatever you want.”
“I want to be alone for a while longer,” I said, and the words lodged deep in my chest. I could see they struck Matthew just as hard as they speared me, and for that I was sorry. “Please don’t give up on me.”
“Dani...” Through the pain, his figure softened, conformed to a more human-looking, gorgeous specimen. “Come here, now.”
I listened, climbing onto the bed and collapsing into a puddle, my head resting on the pile of blankets over his lap. As Matthew stroked my hair, the tears fell.
Matthew leaned over, kissed my forehead. He wiped my tears with the sweetest brush of a finger and held me against him. “You’re the reason I’m here,” he murmured against me. “My whole life, I’ve waited for you. I will never give up on us.”
“You don’t mean that.” I sniffed. “You’ve been alive since...well, since Napoleon Bonaparte, if not before.”
He smiled, mysterious as usual when it came to his age. “At least,” he agreed good-naturedly. “And all of it has built up to you. If you choose to be with me again—even if it’s with your last breath of life, it will all have been worth it.”
My shoulders shuddered with a shrug. “I don’t deserve you, Matthew. It’s easiest if I’m alone.”
“If it’s so easy for you to be alone, then why is it so hard to be apart?”
I wiped my own tears and sat up in bed, my shoulders falling into a slump. “I wish I had the answers for you.”
“I won’t pressure you for an answer now. Not ever. If you come to me with your love, I want it given willingly and without condition.”
I managed a nod. “The same goes for you.”
“Danielle, you’ve never stopped having it. My heart—whatever’s left of it—will always be yours.”
I leaned in, drained of emotion, exhausted despite a few hours of perfectly sound sleep in Matthew’s arms. “I’m a mess,” I said with a watery grin. “I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for this when you came over last night.”
“You’re right,” he deadpanned. “I came hoping for a roll in the sack and no strings attached.”
I laughed because the thought was entirely ridiculous. “Thank you for understanding.”
Matthew merely raised a hand, brushed it across my chin. It was enough.
“I’m going to get dressed,” I said, “and then we have a big day ahead of us.”
After the threat of waterworks had passed, Matthew allowed his eyes to trail down my body as I stood and let the sheet fall to the floor. I found myself smiling under his gaze. Never had a man appreciated the sight of me in such a way, as if I were a piece of art. Which was quite alarming actually, considering Matthew had probably watched Michelangelo himself paint the Sistine Chapel.
“You’re insanely gorgeous,” he said, inhaling a breath. “I know you said you wanted space, but it’s difficult to have restraint. I should go.”
“Matthew,” I hesitated. “This is probably a bad idea, but...I do need a shower. And there’s this difficult to reach place on my back, and maybe...”
It was all the invitation he needed. I hardly had time to blink before he’d crossed the room, pulled me into his arms and swooped me across his chest. We were hot and heavy under the steaming burst of water moments later.
“This is a bad idea,” I murmured, as Matthew’s mouth pressed hard against my neck, the slightest brush of his fang giving an erotic thrill down my spine. “A very bad idea.”
“I just so happen to like bad ideas,” Matthew said with a dangerous grin as he studied me. “Now relax. You’re thinking too much.”
In his eyes, I saw my own irises flash violet, and a sense of satisfaction settle over him at the change in color.
“I love you,” he murmured, as he picked me up and my legs circled around his waist. “You love me. The rest will find its way in time.”
FEELING MIGHTY PEPPY, I climbed out of the shower alone and dressed in the privacy of my bedroom. Matthew had slid out of the bathroom first and given me time to myself, as had been our routine for two years.
I couldn’t help but grin as I heard Matthew reacquainting himself with my furniture through the bedroom door. Once upon a time, an old witch had cursed my kitchen and living room furniture with the ability to talk—mostly to mock me, and we’d had an on and off again relationship as a whole.
Then Carl, my couch, and my flapper-esque coatrack name Marla, along with a slew of other appliances and kitchen accessories, had helped me defeat a murderer who’d attacked me in my own living room. I’d decided I owed them a bit of gratitude. I was already regretting my decision.
“I really think you do wonderful things for the detective,” Marla was explaining as I peeked my head out of the bedroom. Her voice oozed with a sm
oky, flirtatious lilt. “The woman is wound tighter than anyone I’ve ever seen, and she needed to let loose. A night of passion was just what the doctor ordered, Matthew—and you’re her remedy. Last night—”
“Enough!” I flung my bedroom door open, unable to listen to a word more. “We’ve talked about this! You are not to comment on my private life. My personal business behind closed doors is just that—personal.”
“Not when you keep us up all night, dearie,” Marla said. “Come on, hon. Loosen up. We’re happy for you lovebirds.”
“Shut up,” I said. “Tammy, can I get a piece of toast?”
Matthew, to my surprise, moved to the counter faster than I could utter the word please and returned before I blinked. “Here,” he said, “is this...okay? It’s been a while since I’ve partaken in breakfast.”
I looked down at three perfectly cooked eggs, two strips of bacon, and two pieces of toast. “Wow,” I said. “This is—did I even have this food in the fridge?”
“Nope.” Fred popped open to show me some newly stocked shelves. “Your boyfriend went out and about this morning and finally fed me. Thank heavens.”
“How’s the toast? How is it?” Tammy, the over-excited toaster, chirped wildly. “Just slightly golden how you like. It’s fresh, isn’t it? Do you like it?”
“It’s delicious, Tammy,” I said, taking a crispy bite to show her just how much I loved it. “Thank you all very much. Matthew, you didn’t have to do this.”
“I had time to kill,” he said, though by my calculations he’d had all of ten minutes to run to the store, buy food, return and cook it. The perks of dating a vampire. “I hope you enjoy it. I figured we could discuss the case load while you ate.”
He was quite obviously frazzled by the furniture, a fact that I found amusing. However, after all the work he’d gone through to make me comfortable, I refrained from mentioning it. “Sure, have a seat.”
He sat opposite me at the table, then slid a few pieces of paper across. “I mapped out our day. Thoughts?”
I studied the itinerary, reading the familiar old-fashioned font. “We’re doing this together?”
He nodded.
“I have an addition to your plan,” I said. “How about we pay a visit to the farmer Lucia was investigating. From there, we swing around to chat with Sienna.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to visit Sienna yet.”
“There are reports of necromancer magic throughout Wicked, and we know she lied to us,” I said. “It’s inevitable that we have to ask her a few hard questions.”
“We don’t know any of that for a fact.”
“You doubt my ability to see Residuals?” I raised my eyebrows. “Since when?”
“I don’t doubt what you saw, but I wonder if there isn’t a reasonable explanation for it.”
“Then let’s ask her,” I said, and barreled on before he could argue. “We can go pressure Felix afterward for results, and then hit up Dr. Johnston.”
“Fine.”
“That was easy,” I said. “You just agreed with me?”
“When you make intelligent plans, I have no argument,” he said with a grin. “Now, when we visit Sienna, there will be no accusations. We can’t alienate her—you know how touchy necromancers can be with false claims.”
“Fine,” I said. “But I do know what I saw, and I’m not shying away from it. In my experience, Residuals don’t lie.”
“Maybe not, but they don’t tell you the full story, either,” Matthew said. “So, let’s talk to her.”
We rose after I scarfed down the last of the breakfast. “Wait—” I said, stopping Matthew as he moved toward the door. “Last order of business.”
“Which is?”
“The Hex Files.”
“I warned you,” Matthew said. “I warned you not to look at those. I don’t want to discuss what you found—it’s trash.”
“It’s not trash. It reads like some sort of prophecy.”
“Too much blood has been spilled over those files and nothing has come to fruition.”
“Because the files are missing something,” I said, and Matthew closed his eyes in response. “I’m telling you—they’re not complete. It’s dangerous to have half the information—you just said it yourself. Residuals are half the story, and so are The Hex Files.”
“Dani—”
I interrupted with the chant, and he fell silent. There was a magical sizzle to the words, an element of supernatural impossible to deny by anyone with paranormal tendencies.
“One will lead the way by heart—
A second seeks bright in deepest dark.
The third lives in shadow and searches light—
A fourth will break from desperate plight.
The last meets death for their greatest lie—
As the unbreakable enchantment brings future nigh.”
When I finished, Matthew’s eyes remained closed, his body perfectly still.
“You can hear it, too,” I said. “You feel it. There’s some sort of spell involved, or a prophecy, or something.”
“Forget what you read,” he said, opening his eyes. “I will not discuss it.”
“Am I one of them?” I pressed, moving closer to him. “I could be. Hell, I could be just about any of them. I’m broken Matthew. Living in shadow, seeking the light. One will see death...”
Matthew reached out, his hands clasping firmly onto my shoulders. “Forget what you’ve read, Dani. My promise to you was to deliver the files and nothing more. I will not entertain discussion on it.”
“Are you one of those mentioned in the Files?”
Matthew turned on a heel and stalked out the door. “I have a job to do.” He paused in the hallway and called behind him. “Are you joining me?”
Chapter 14
Downstairs, Matthew and I passed Jack in the kitchen. I paused to thank him profusely for his help and offered to pay him double for all he’d been doing lately.
“I’d stay behind to help, but I’m working this case, and...” I hesitated. “It’s urgent.”
“It’s always urgent.” Jack gave a knowing sort of grin. Whatever he was about to say next got interrupted by the opening of the door behind me. “Hey, there she is!”
I stared an extra moment at my brother, watching as his eyes lit up at the sight of the newcomer. Jack was many things: handsome, stubborn, cocky on a bad day, kind on a good one, but one thing he wasn’t was soft. Yet he melted like butter as he watched Willa enter the shop and wave enthusiastically at the three of us.
“Howdy,” she said, and her eyes flicked to each of us in turn, landing on Jack for just a second longer than usual. “Sorry—didn’t mean to break up the party!”
“Not at all,” Jack said in a rush. “I was just telling Dani that I don’t mind helping her out. She was threatening to hire more help.”
Willa waved a hand. “No need! I love working here, and Jimmy should be back today, too. Plus, Dougie helped yesterday. It really is turning into a family run business, don’t you think?”
“Sure, for everyone but me!” I moaned. “And it was my dream.”
“Your distraction,” Jack said. “Go on, save the world while we feed it, slice by slice.”
Willa giggled, and I suddenly understood why neither party minded the long hours spent working together. If I didn’t watch out, there’d be more cooking in the kitchen than marinara and mozzarella.
I pulled Jack aside and gestured for Matthew to go on ahead. “You be careful,” I told him in hushed tones. “Willa’s mother is ill, and she’s fragile.”
Jack’s eyes darkened. “She’s not fragile.”
“You didn’t see her yesterday!”
“You haven’t spent twelve hours a day with her for the past week,” Jack snapped. “She’s an adult. Let her make her own decisions.”
“I’m just warning you—if you hurt her, if you build her up and break her down, I will hunt you, Jack. I don’t care that you’re my broth
er—I’ll throw you to the wolves.”
Jack’s cheeks cracked into a grin. “I thought you were more creative than that. If you’re going to get rid of me, don’t throw me to the wolves. That’s just disrespectful.”
“Yeah, well,” I snipped. “Be careful with Willa. You might not think she’s sensitive, but she is.”
“You might not think I’m smart, but I’m not stupid,” Jack said. “I know Willa’s different, and I’m trying my best not to screw things up with her. Your vote of confidence in me is so heartwarming.”
“That’s what sisters are for.” I crooked an eyebrow at him. “Maybe if you hadn’t ‘dated’ my best friend when you were eight and then sent her crying to her mother, I’d have better hopes for you.”
“We held hands once.”
“Then there was Betty when you were thirteen, Linda on the night of my seventeenth birthday—that was a doozy. What about Mathilda just a few years back?” I crossed my arms, turned on my heel, and walked away. “There’s my vote of confidence, little brother.”
“I’m going to prove you wrong!” Jack shouted at my back. “Watch and see!”
“I’ll watch alright,” I yelled back. “Prove me right and you’re dead.”
The last of my threat was heard in the main dining area where Matthew and Willa stood in uncomfortable silence.
“Aren’t their family dynamics charming?” Matthew asked lightly.
“Utterly,” Willa said. “You were a part of this for two years?”
“There are some things I don’t miss,” Matthew said with a grin, and Willa laughed.
“I understand,” she said, and then elbowed him. “But seriously, you loved it.”
“Let’s go,” I said, sparing Matthew an answer but pinning him with a deadly stare. “I’m running low on patience. Not for you—Willa,” I said, pausing. “If you would rather be with your mother, I would understand.”