I count out loud so Jack knows exactly where the amulet is. “One, two up. One, two, three over.”
I grasp the edges of the rock with my fingertips and slowly start to shimmy it loose. Once Jack sees what I’m doing, he reaches over my lap and places his hands on the top and bottom of the rock. As he does this, he leans over me, and I inhale his musky male scent. He smoothly pulls the rock out and sets it on the floor before leaning back again. I reach behind the rock next to the opening, feeling around for the bag. I manage to pinch a corner of it and carefully pull it out.
“This is it!” I announce as I hold the bag up.
Jack looks at it closely, examining the front and the back. He looks at the thread, and he opens the bag and sniffs it. When he is done he hands it back to me and says, “The craftsmanship is stunning.”
I’m not a connoisseur of fine metal craft, but even I can tell that it’s magnificent. I carefully replace it and push the rock in again.
Jack seems satisfied. “That’s a good spot for it.”
Then he stands and offers his hand to help me up. I take it. When we’re both standing I lean over the half wall, place my elbows on it, and looking out over what I can see of the city. The neighborhood is shrouded in mist, shifting and gliding over buildings, gathering thick in some places and thin in others, an ever-changing kaleidoscope of misty city.
Jack stands next to me and asks, “So, how well do you know Father O’Brennen?”
This question takes me by surprise because I’d thought to ask the same question of him. “When I came of age and had to leave the orphanage, Father O’Brennen let me stay in my apartment for a few months rent-free until I got my first job.”
Jack asks, “Are you very religious?”
I laugh softly. “No. When I lived at the orphanage we would come here to church, and at every opportunity I would escape services to come up here to the bell room.”
The memories bring sadness through me that I try to swallow down. Then I face away from Jack as I stare out into the rolling mist.
“You probably remember me telling you that when I was younger,” I continue, “the kids at the orphanage thought I was an evil Witch because of my birthmark and my gift. The housemothers called Father O’Brennen in to evaluate me at one point, so at some level they must have actually believed it could be true as well.”
When I say this, I feel Jack reach out his hand and tenderly stroke my hair. I’m trying to keep my emotions in check, but his kindness makes tears spill silently from my eyes. I keep my head turned so that Jack can’t see. “He said I was perfectly normal.” Despite my efforts my voice comes out broken.
Jack holds my chin and gently turns my face toward him. He sees the tears, and I feel an overwhelming flood of emotion coming from him. It’s like he’s kept himself in constant control, and just now I am finally seeing the truth of him. He pours out empathy and kindness toward me. He gently wipes at the tears on my cheeks with his thumbs, and he pulls me to him. I willingly lean into his chest.
Jack murmurs, “Don’t cry, Blue.” And he gently kisses the tear tracks on my face in a rain of tiny kisses. His kindness is so overwhelming and his empathy so real it undoes me even further and I start crying all the more. I lean my forehead into his chest, and Jack folds me in his arms, holding my gently shaking shoulders. I feel his large, comforting hands caressing my back soothingly as he murmurs, “Don’t cry, beautiful. Don’t cry, beautiful Blue.”
I feel the warmth of his arms surrounding me and the comfort of his solid chest and consoling hands. Slowly, bit by bit, I let my old hurt and sense of betrayal flow out of me. Jack keeps his arms around me, soothing me, and my sobbing subsides. It is an old pain. I’ve never told anyone about that, not even Maud.
As I calm down I realize that my arms are about Jack’s waist. Jack gently pulls me back, and he looks at me with such a look of tenderness. He leans down and gently kisses one eyelid and then the other. Then he goes back to the first eyelid and rains tiny kisses all along my lash line from one corner to the other. His kisses are tender and as light as falling snowflakes, yet they leave a trail of warmth in their wake. He has one arm around my waist, holding me against him, and his other hand twines through my hair as he leans over me.
His lips feather over my other eye in the same manner, covering it in tiny, beautiful kisses, full of warmth and kindness. I savor the feel of his lips against my skin and his arms around me, and I ache for more. The heat of his mouth touches the tip of my nose and dips lower, until I feel his warm breath hovering over my lips.
My whole body stills in anticipation with every nerve singing, focused on the warmth of his lips over mine. Slowly, he lowers his mouth, kissing one tiny corner and then the other with kisses as light as a butterfly. He brushes both of his lips over my upper lip, gently, tracing its outline. He moves to my lower lip, brushing it so softly with his in the same manner, setting off a wild tingling sensation and cascade of warmth that leaves my breast heaving for air.
Jack pauses with my lower lip lightly snagged between his, and I dare to open my eyes. I see bottomless, vivid, green, swirling eyes looking into mine intently. He opens his mouth and slowly, deliberately draws my lower lip into his mouth, sucking gently, watching my eyes all the while.
I feel a rush of heat and liquid fire deep and low in my core. Jack inhales roughly and groans. Somehow the realization comes through the fog of my mind that he can smell that he is making me wet with wanting, and he likes it. A low and unbidden moan escapes at that thought, and I reach for Jack’s shoulder as my knees go weak. Jack pulls me against him, and I can feel the hard length of him pushed up against my belly. I relish this evidence of his arousal and the thought that I am causing it. Jack’s lips and tongue tease at the seam of my mouth, and I willingly open up to him. His tongue immediately claims my mouth, explores it, delving gently into every crevice, caressing me from inside out.
I am filled not only with Jack’s tongue and am surrounded not only by his hands and his body, but his desire also fills up the space around me with an overwhelming force and soaks through me. I can feel his desire and his pleasure at my touch just as I feel my own pleasure, and it makes me desperate for more. Crazy for more.
I run my hands rapidly down Jack’s back and over his buttocks. I can feel the steely hardness of his limbs under the fine fabric of his trousers, but I’m frantic to feel his skin. Jack pulls me to the side and presses me against the stone pier between the arches. His lips break from kissing my mouth and start a fiery trail of kisses down my jawline and my neck while holding my hips against him. I desperately glide my fingers up his chest, searching for an opening in his shirt. My untrained hands feel his chest, and my right hand runs across his nipple. Jack gasps in response, and I hone in and do it all the more, drinking in the feel of his desire, feeling it escalate with every stroke of my fingers. But I lose all thought as Jack slips his hands under my shirt and deftly finds my nipples.
“Oh my God,” I moan as he rolls them between his fingers and flicks them with his thumb.
Then he pulls my shirt completely off me and his mouth is on the curve of my breast. I want, I want, I want so much. He slowly pulls a bra strap down, running his finger under the edge of the cup, lowering it. He takes my nipple fully into his mouth and gently suckles it. Oh my God. Liquid heat rushes between my legs. I try to reach out for Jack’s shoulders, but my arm is trapped by my bra strap. Jack pulls the other strap down, trapping my other arm, and suckles my left nipple.
I vaguely realize I am moaning incoherently, what I don’t even know. I have no knowledge of where I am or how I’m even standing. There is only a disembodied me, and all of my focus is anchored on Jack. I must touch him; I must get closer to him. I press my hips against his hard shaft, and I vaguely hear him groaning and cursing. I rub myself against him and beg, “I need more, Jack.”
Jack lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around him. He presses his manhood into me in an undulating rhythm, rocking into me, pressing into me, so glorio
usly, but somehow it is not enough. I reach up and kiss his mouth with hunger, with an open-mouthed starvation.
Then out of the blue I hear a great fluttering sound inches away from head. Somehow it penetrates though the whirl of my senses, and I turn and open my eyes just in time to see a black crow flying away.
I suddenly feel Jack clamp down on his emotions again and become perfectly still. It is like I was in the midst of a lush forest and have been transported to a barren desert where I’m left parched and thirsty. The air is so vacant and forlorn without his emotions filling it, and the emptiness sucks the joy out of me as though I’ve entered the Abyss. The rest of the world comes back to me in a painful rush. Jack still holds me, and my legs are still wrapped around him, and my body still throbs and weeps for him, but he does not move. He pulls his mouth away from mine, and I look at him. His eyes are still molten green, but they are now behind shuttered eyelids, and the realization causes my heart to twist.
He says, “It was just a crow.”
I let my legs relax, and Jack slowly lowers me to the floor, still holding me close. He steps back a bit, taking his hips away from me, and I feel utter desolation in their absence. My only consolation is the tightening of his arms around me, holding me still against his chest.
As my mind returns to this world, I hear my breath coming in heavy gasps. Jack carefully pulls my bra straps back up, one at a time, slowly and tenderly but dispassionately. He hands me my gray t-shirt. With his low voice cracking he says, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Somehow I steady my breath and nod while grasping my shirt to my chest. I’m grateful he still holds me because my knees are still weak and unsteady. After a few moments, I feel the strength return to my legs. I pull back, and Jack slowly, almost reluctantly, releases me.
I pull my t-shirt on quickly, embarrassed, and take a few steps over to the half wall, leaning on it again with my elbows. I say, “Jack. I felt your emotions so strongly, and then I felt you close down. I’ve never felt anyone do that before. It’s different with you. I can only feel your emotions when they’re strong.”
Jack says quietly, “It’s part of my training. When I was a young Vampire I spent some time training in China at a Mahayana Buddhist Temple in martial arts. We were trained to control our minds and emotions as well as our bodies. My whole life is about control.”
I accept this and look out into the mist. With what little dignity I can muster I whisper, “I’m sorry I broke down like that. I shouldn’t have burdened you with my sob story.”
Jack remains silent, and I feel the slightest brush of his fingers against my hair and nothing more. After a few more minutes Jack says, “We should head back.”
I turn, and Jack descends the ladder ahead of me and helps me down. In the stairwell he lifts me easily in his arms, and while I thrill to feel his arms around me again, he carries me down the stairs like a man carries a little girl, not a woman. He gently sets me on my feet at the bottom of the stairs, and he and Varg push through the door as I follow behind.
We quietly exit the church, and Jack locks the door behind us. We trek up the three flights to my apartment without speaking. When we arrive, Jack and Varg do a perimeter check again while I pull down some sheets for the sofa, figuring Jack doesn’t need much.
Jack says, “I’ll do the sofa. Why don’t you get ready for bed.”
I nod at him and hand him the pile of linens. Selecting my most modest nightgown, I head to the bathroom and jump in the shower. As the warm water runs down my body, I remember the way it felt when Jack touched me. I soap up my hands and wash my face and arms. When my soapy hands travel over my breasts, I think it is so odd that with my hands I feel nothing, but with Jack’s hands I feel the world. The memory of his hands on me is raw and powerful, but then so is the pain of his cool demeanor. I finish my shower with my body still trilling from the feel of him.
When I exit the bathroom with my robe pulled tightly around me, Jack is reclining on the sofa. He looks up at me, and I think his eyes flare brighter for an instant, but he doesn’t get up. His eyes flick over me, but his face stays expressionless. His deep voice, scratchy now, asks coolly, “Shall I turn off the light?”
I say, “Sure. I’m ready for bed now.”
Jack gets up and turns off the light. “Goodnight, Blue.”
“Goodnight, Jack.”
I slip behind the sheer curtain that makes up my bedroom, and in a few seconds I am securely under the covers. Varg butts his head between the curtains and comes in to take his usual position by my bedside.
I’m pillowless tonight, so I pull the corner of the comforter up to cushion my head and try to wrap the rest around me. When my toes peek out I curl my knees to my stomach and sigh. I can feel Jack’s presence in the other room, and I like the way it feels. Confused, lonely, and filled with longing still, I surprise myself by falling asleep quickly.
Chapter 33
Beautiful Vigil
Jack Tanner: May 29, 2022, Red Ages
I lie in perfect stillness and listen to the sound of Blue’s breathing evening out, then slow to a deep slumber. Her presence, just a few feet away, tantalizes me in a bittersweet irony. The one who I should not have is the one woman I want the most. Her scent permeates the entire space, and I can smell the core of it coming from her body in bed. By scent alone I know where she is, both from her fragrant skin and the rich aroma of her sweet blood. I see the soft, bluish white glow of her aura lighting up her bedroom. I can’t take a breath without being filled with her scent. I don’t actually need to breathe to survive, so I stop to ease the torment. But it leaves me feeling hollow. I take a deep breath in and savor it this time, accepting the sweet agony.
During the middle of the night, when I can stand it no longer, I quietly enter her bedroom and stand at the foot of her bed. Mesmerized by this beautiful, forbidden treasure of mine, all concept of time flies away. Her aura softly illuminates her skin and every curve. In sleep, her eyes are so peaceful, the eyes that I adore. Even now I want to brush my lips against her eyelids. I love the fall of her long, dark lashes against her cheeks. Her limbs are scattered and limp, the same limbs that wrapped around me with all the passion of a burgeoning young woman. I can’t possibly deserve something so lovely and so filled with good.
I recall her stories of the orphanage, and it rips me apart because I brought her there. Any hardships she endured are no one’s fault more than mine. How could I have just abandoned a young child with a group of strangers without knowing what it was like for her on a daily basis? I should have watched over her more closely. I should not have let that happen.
I wrestle myself away from her side and return to the sofa. I lie down and close my eyes, letting the visions of her in my arms flow through my mind like a slow-moving picture. When dawn comes and Varg starts to move about, I knock on the wall outside Blue’s bedroom.
Blue opens her eyes and sleepily says, “Jack?”
“Blue, I’m headed into the office now. I’d like to get an early start.”
“Okay,” Blue says with a yawn. “I’ll be there before noon.”
“You need to lock the door behind me. The ward specialist should be here soon.”
Blue opens her bleary eyes and reaches for her robe. She throws the covers back, and her long, white limbs poke out from her nightgown as she sets her feet on the bedroom rug. She stands, pulls on her robe, and follows me to the door. I shut it behind me and stand outside until I hear the lock click. For a moment I lean my shoulder on the green doorframe, reluctant to leave her. Then I steel myself and head to the office.
Chapter 34
The Alley
Bluebell Kildare: May 30, 2022, Red Ages
I impatiently fiddle with the handle of my second cup of tea as I watch the ward specialist finish up. He’s been chanting and casting wards for over an hour. I’m totally unfamiliar with ward art, so I just let him do his business. He’s a short, stocky man with glyphs and tribal designs tattoo
ed all over his arms and face. He sparkles from nose and eyebrow piercings, and his short, spiky hair tops off his look. He looks fierce, and I’m not sure I would want to cross his ward uninvited. But he seems skilled and good-natured.
When Michael Radskif finishes a particularly complex set of movements and chants, he brings his arms down and turns toward me. “I’m all finished here.”
I look around and ask him, “Is there anything I need to know?”
Michael smiles and says, “This ward has a very simple entry requirement: you have to want the person to enter. No magic word or special chant will get someone in. No one can enter without you. Let me be clear about that—no one can portal in or occupy a single inch of space unless your heart desires them to be there with you.”
“That’s it? I just have to want them here? What if I want someone in, then they do something while they’re here, and I don’t want them in any longer?”
Michael shrugs. “It doesn’t count. You already granted them entrance by wanting them in. When they leave, you get to decide if you want them in again. But once they’re in, they’re in.”
So I’d best be sure about someone before I let them in.
Michael packs up his things, then he pauses and asks, “Do you happen to know where a good herbal shop is around here?”
I smile. “I sure do. My neighbor owns one, and she’s very good at her craft.” I think about how to tell him to get there, and then decide it’s easiest to show him. “Why don’t I walk you out and show you where it is? Where are you parked?”
Michael says, “Oh, I got dropped off. How far is the shop?”
I grab my jacket. “Not far.”
Michael and I start to leave, and as I close the door, Varg tries to join us. I block him and say, “Varg, stay. I’ll be right back.”
Michael frowns at that and says, “You know, you don’t need him to guard the place.”
“I know, but I’m just going a block with you. I don’t want to bother with the leash.”
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