by Julie Kenner
“Hey.” His hands press against my shoulders and I look into the mirror to see him behind me, his lips brushing my hair. “You’re crying.”
It’s only when he says the words that I realize they are true.
“I’m sorry.” I draw a breath and turn to face him because this isn’t something I can say to his reflection. “I love you, Raine. Maybe it’s been fast, or maybe it’s been growing over centuries. I don’t know and I don’t care, because I am certain of how I feel.”
I watch the smile bloom on his face, only to die with my next words.
“But you’re not in love with me. You’re in love with a memory, Raine.”
He shakes his head. “No.”
I take his hand and hold it tight. “I can’t do this. I’m not Livia. Maybe a part of me was, but that was a long time ago, and I have no memory of it. Not really. Do I feel a connection to you? Do I love you? Desperately. Passionately. But I’m not going to reduce the truth of that feeling by saying it originates from another woman’s past. It doesn’t Raine. It’s me. All me.”
He watches me intently, but says nothing, and I press on, because I have to get this out.
“Maybe there is some of her in me, but it’s no more than the atoms of dinosaurs. You talked about energy, and I understand that. Everything is connected, sure. Energy can be neither created nor destroyed. I get all of that, and it’s part of why I believe that what you’ve told me is true. But I can’t be some other person simply because that’s who you lost so long ago and who you want me to be.”
“That’s not what I want.” He is speaking carefully, as if a wrong step will send me away.
But he doesn’t realize that I’m already gone. What matters now is whether he can get me back.
I take his hand. “Isn’t it? The woman you loved is dead, Raine. I’m Callie, and I do love you. God, I love you so much it terrifies me. But that isn’t enough to keep me here.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I can’t stay here. Because I can’t be somebody else, Raine. Not even for love.” I brush away a tear and draw a stuttering breath. “Not even for you.”
* * * *
Raine couldn’t sleep. He’d paced his apartment all night after Callie left, finally giving up even as the dark surrendered to the light.
He’d come down into the club an hour ago and decided that seven in the morning was a damn fine time for a drink.
Now he filled his glass yet again, then tossed back the contents, relishing the burn as the liquid flowed down his throat. He couldn’t get drunk—a side effect of his particular brand of immortality—but he could damn sure try. And maybe if he tried hard enough he could turn the buzz into an alcohol-induced haze.
And maybe if he managed that, he could forget.
Except, of course, he didn’t want to forget. On the contrary, he wanted to hold her close to his heart. Hold them. Both of the women he loved. His Livia. His Callie.
How the hell had he lost them both?
“Careful.” Mal stepped up to the bar, then leaned against it, the casualness of his stance belying the concern on his face. “Finish off the Glenfarclas and Trace will have your head. He was friends with John Grant, you know, and was there when it was distilled. Not to mention that bottle cost a fucking fortune.”
Raine managed a small smile. “Trace has wanted my head for centuries. About time I gave him an excuse.”
“Don’t do him any favors.” Mal reached over the bar and grabbed a glass of his own, then held it out. “And don’t drink alone.”
Raine lifted the bottle and poured a shot into Mal’s glass.
“She thinks that I’m in love with a memory.”
Mal took a long, slow sip. “Are you?”
Raine’s eyes shot to his friend, and his words came out cold and harsh. “Hell no. Christ, Mal, I loved Livia—I did. I do. And whatever part of her is still within Callie, I love as well. But that isn’t why I love her. God, she’s in here.” He slammed his hand against his chest. “In my heart, under my skin. There was a spark the moment I saw her, and when we made love the first time, I knew without a doubt that I’ve known her forever—and maybe I do have Livia to thank for that—but it’s not what’s in our past that grabbed my heart.”
His friend said nothing as Raine poured another shot, then finished it off. “Livia was my mate, and I loved her beyond all reason.” He had, too. But they had been mated before they crossed the void, and that relationship had a different feel, a different cadence. They’d been bound, their energies meshed. And he had been sworn to protect her, while she was sworn to serve him.
The relationship was symbiotic, and yet sterile in so many ways. And perhaps they would have grown past that in their years on earth, bound in human flesh for so long that he’d all but forgotten how it used to be. But he’d lost her the day of their arrival, and so he would never know.
With Callie, he understood what it meant to not only love, but to be in love. To feel not only passion, but playfulness.
He had loved, Livia. But with Callie it was so much more. With Callie, he was so much more.
“I loved her,” Raine repeated. “But Callie is a partner, too. A friend. Perhaps there was no room for that so many years ago, when our mission was so closely bound to every moment of our lives. But I found laughter in Callie. And life, as well. And if I have any regrets, it is my recklessness over these past years.”
He rubbed a hand over his tattooed arm, remembering each and every death that they marked. “Because now I fear that if I go into battle and fail, I may lose myself. And in losing myself, I will lose her as well.”
Still, his friend said nothing.
“Dammit, Mal, say something.”
Mal reached over and clenched his shoulder, his gray eyes sharp. “It’s not me you need to be talking to, Raine. And you damn well know it.”
* * * *
It’s nine in the morning and I’m on my fifth cup of coffee. I didn’t sleep last night, though I’d curled up on the couch in my father’s hospital room and hoped that the beeps and chirps of the machinery would sing me to sleep. I’d wanted to find my father in dreams, but it hadn’t happened, and now I feel bereft, as if I’d lost both my father and the man I loved.
I’d left with the sun, walking back to the store as the city awoke, and as soon as the clock struck nine, I’d called my office in Texas.
Now I’m on hold because I’d foolishly forgotten about the time change, and the receptionist told me to wait while she calls down to the gym to see if my boss is there, going through his usual early-morning workout.
I’d considered simply calling back later, but I want to do this now. I want to let him know that I’ll be back to work bright and early Monday morning, and I want him to officially put me back on the docket as soon as possible.
I force myself not to think about the reason. About why it even matters to me. Because I do not want to even entertain the possibility of staying in New York. How can I when everything about this city reminds me of Raine?
And all I do is remind him of Livia.
Frustrated, I wipe away a tear that has escaped my cheek.
He didn’t stop me.
I told him what I needed to hear, and he said nothing. He let me walk out and keep on walking. And now it’s the next day and he hasn’t come, and dammit I can’t help the stupid tears because my heart is broken. And I’m cursing my own stupidity for falling in love in the first place, and I’m wishing there is a way that I can just get him out of my head, because whenever I think about him—
Fuck.
“Dammit, Claire, get back to the phone.” I tap my foot, then start pacing. I’ve reached the end of the store when two things happen. The front door opens and Raine steps in, and Claire comes back on the line.
“Just another minute,” she says. “He’s on his way up.”
“Thanks. I can wait.” I look up at Raine as the hold music begins again. I clutch my fingers tighter around my
phone, as if that alone can give me the strength not to run to him. “My boss. I need to take this.”
“Later. We need to talk.”
I shake my head. “We don’t.”
“Yes.” He moves closer, then takes the phone from my hand and disconnects the call. “We do. Because I love you. You. Callie Sinclair. Not a memory. A woman.”
“It’s been hours,” I say because, yes, I am hurting. “You let me leave. You let me just walk away.”
“I needed to get my head around how much I feel for you. Because it’s so much more than I’ve ever felt before. For Livia. For anyone.”
I look at him, wary, because I want so much to believe, but I don’t know if I should.
On the desk, my phone starts to ring. I know it’s Claire, wondering what the hell happened.
“No,” he says. “Give me this chance to tell you that I love Callie Sinclair. That I want nothing more than to touch her. To make memories with her. I want to laugh with her and I want to watch her cry out in passion. I love you, Callie. Your humor, your heart. Everything that makes up the woman standing in front of me.”
He pauses only long enough to draw a breath.
“Is Livia’s essence within you? Of course. Did I love her? I did. But that was a long time ago, and now her essence is only the string that drew me to you. Strings can be cut. But you could sever that string and I would never leave you. Never,” he adds fiercely. “You are everything to me, angel. Don’t you see? For centuries, I’ve craved death. Sought it out. Wanted to find that goddamn amulet so that I could go back home, even though that world no longer is mine. I don’t want that anymore.”
He takes my hands. “I want to stay. I want you.”
I swallow and blink, trying to hold back tears because his words have filled me to overflowing.
“I love you, Callie. And I’m sorry if I’m saying it wrong, but I need you to believe me. Because you hold the power to destroy me. Please, angel.” His voice is gentle. Pleading. “I need you.”
“I believe you,” I say, and I don’t think I’ve ever spoken truer words. “And I love you, too.”
Chapter 11
“I love you,” I say again, because it is real and huge and I want to say it as many times as he wants to hear it.
He pulls me close and kisses me hard. “I was so afraid I’d lost you forever, and—”
I close my mouth over his again, silencing him. I don’t want to hear about being apart now that we are together. That, to me, is the wrong kind of fantasy.
“Make love to me.” I’m breathing hard, my heart pounding. His is too, and as he pulls me close I can feel it pound through me as if our two hearts are united as one. As if we are blurring the line between where I end and he begins.
His hands go to my shirt even as mine attack his jeans. “The windows,” I gasp, though right then I truly don’t care. He can slam me up against the glass and fuck me blind if he wants. I just want to feel him against me.
In one motion, he scoops me up. “Where?”
“The studio. Upstairs.” I nod to the back of the store and the simple door that leads the way to the living quarters. He goes, carrying me easily, and I cling tight, reveling in the feel of his body pressed against mine. Of being carried. Tended to. It feels right, this moment.
It feels like coming home.
I tense, realizing something.
“Callie?”
I make a frantic motion with my hand. “Wait. Wait. Let me think.”
He continues up the stairs, his expression wary, but I say nothing. There’s something important, and though it’s flitting around in my mind, I can’t quite grasp it no matter how much I—
And then I remember.
“My playhouse,” I say, twisting my hand into his shirt collar as if that will make him understand what I’m talking about. “I think Daddy hid the amulet in my playhouse.”
His brow creases. “What does that have to do with me? The journal said, With him, what is hidden will be revealed. I don’t even know what your playhouse is.”
“But you’re with me, aren’t you?”
He cocks his head. “And you think your dad knew that we would be together?”
“If Livia is in him, too, then yes. I think maybe he knew—maybe she knew—that in the end, we would make this work.”
We’ve reached the landing at the top of the stairs and he pauses outside the door to the studio, then puts me down.
“What?” I ask because he is looking at me with such intensity.
“I just love you.” His voice is gentle but firm, as if he has just stated some immutable law of the universe. And when he kisses me, threads of fire spread through me, filling and warming me, making me feel safe. And, yes, loved.
I have no idea what I said to prompt this, but I do know that I like it.
“So if it’s in the playhouse, where is the playhouse?”
I reach for the door to the studio and open it. It’s a typical loft apartment with no isolated rooms. My father put up a bookshelf to separate my area from his when I got older, but before that it was just open.
The back wall is made up of windows in front of a wooden bench. It’s not a window seat, and that had disappointed me as a child. Until my dad decided to take pity on me.
I signal for Raine to come over, and he does. Then I kneel in front of the bench. I run my finger along the bottom until I find the hidden latch. I flip it, then lift the wooden panel. It rises on the hinges hidden just under the top to reveal a cavity just barely big enough for a little girl to use as a playhouse. Inside, I find my stuffed animals, a blanket, three flashlights, a pillow, a copy of Alice in Wonderland. And a cardboard box that I do not recognize.
I tug it out, then glance at Raine, who nods.
I pull off the lid, then suck in a breath, awed by the magnificent fire of the opal that makes up the center of the amulet. “It’s stunning,” I say. “Hang on. Let me get my dad’s jeweler’s loupe. The fire in this stone is incredible.”
I clutch the box in my hand, intending to just run down the stairs and get my dad’s loupe out of his desk, but I don’t get that far.
The moment I step outside the door, I hear a sharp crack. For a moment, I just stand there, confused. Then I hear Raine scream my name. I try to turn, but I seem glued to the spot. And, strangely, when I look down I see blood on my shirt.
My blood.
I fall backward, realizing as I do that someone has leapt from the stairs to the landing. He’s grabbed the box, and he’s racing away.
I try to focus on why that matters, but everything just seems so fuzzy. Even Raine, who is at my side now, his hand tight around mine.
“Hang on!” he cries. “Dammit, Callie, you hang on.”
But I’m not sure how he expects me to do that, because everything is so slippery, and I’m sliding away faster and faster.
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare leave me.”
I focus on his words. On their meaning. And as I do, I realize what’s happening.
Dying.
“Raine? I think I’ve been shot. I think I’m dying.”
I see the tears flood his eyes and the way his jaw clenches with determination, and I know that I am right.
I try to shake my head, but I’m not sure I’m managing it. But when I shift sideways, I can scoot just a little bit closer to him. I can’t stand to be away from him. I can’t stand to lose him now that I’ve just found him.
“Raine?” My voice is so thin I can barely hear it. “I don’t think I can hold on. I love you.”
I think I am hallucinating now because I see a wild flash of colors. Then I realize it’s not a hallucination. It’s the blade of a fire sword.
“You said I could watch you forge it.”
“This is Mal’s. I also said I never go out without one. Listen to me. Listen to me.”
I force myself to focus. To not let the gray take me.
“They have…the amulet,” I say.
“Right
now, I don’t give a damn about anything but you. I need you to move. I won’t be able to do it for you once I slice my throat, and the fire will throw me across the room if I die too close to you. It won’t risk accidentally taking a mortal. One foot, Callie. Can you crawl one foot into the flames?”
His words are coming at me fast, and I can barely process them. But I have heard enough, and it is the surge of adrenaline that gives me more strength because I have to make him stop. “Die? The flame? What are you talking about?”
“Come into the flame with me. If my mate enters, she will become immortal, too. Come into the flame, Callie, and live with me forever.”
“No. Raine, no. You said you didn’t have many burns left. This could destroy you.”
The words, ripped from me in fear, have exhausted me, and I let my head fall back as I gasp, trying to draw in air.
“I can’t bear to lose you,” he says. “And if the price of your life is my sanity, then I will pay it to know that you are safe and whole.”
I open my mouth to protest once more, but it is too late. He holds the base of the fire sword and with one flick of his wrist, the blade extends, slicing across his throat and spilling his blood.
I hear a scream and realize that it is my own.
He falls to the floor, and for a moment nothing happens.
“Raine… Raine…” I try to scream his name, but I do not have the strength.
He is facing me, and I see the light dimming in his eyes. And then his lips move. Just one word.
Now.
The word still hangs in the air as the flames start to rise around him. And I know that I must go now. The flame will not last forever, only until he is reborn.
I either try or I die.
And I cannot bear the thought of losing him. And so I struggle toward him, using all my strength. Pushing with my feet. Pulling with my arms. Until I am so close I can feel the fire cooking my skin, and I do not know how I can do this. How I can go into the flame and suffer that pain?
Except I know that I can endure it because Raine has, time and again. And twice now for me.