by Lauren Smith
She turned and rested her cheek on his chest.
“Before… I wanted to be a photographer. I was good at art, loved to sketch, but what I really loved was taking pictures. I was enrolled in photography classes. After the accident, I had to drop out of art school and sell the house. There were so many expenses. Eventually I even had to pawn my camera…”
Her words died as emotions began to clog her throat. Selling that camera had been like the last bell tolling in a cemetery, reminding her she had to give up her dreams. It was all dead now, every hope she had for that future. She jerked away and started to sit up. Ian rolled, pinning her beneath him on the bed.
“No, lass, you can’t shut us out.”
“Too late for that,” Connor added.
She rubbed at her eyes, wiping away fresh tears. She looked away from them around the room, noticing the lovely pictures on the walls.
“When I first woke up here, I thought I was dead. The room was filled with pictures of places I’ve never been.”
“Ian took those. He likes to snap a picture every now and then. He even set up the camera on timers to get shots during the day that he couldn’t manage in person. It’s a bit of a passion for him too. We’ll take you with us, when we travel next,” Connor promised.
Zoey wanted to cry even harder. He made it sound so natural, so normal that she’d be with them. But this wasn’t going to last forever. How could it?
Ian slid off her so that she was nestled between their bodies. “Er…Zoey. We’d like to talk to you about something.”
She forced herself to smile, but it was brittle. She feared the worst. “Yes?”
“What would you say if Connor and I asked you to stay past Christmas? We’ve grown quite fond of you, and neither of us wishes for you to leave. Now—” He pressed a finger against her lips before she could protest. “We know you’ve got your pride, and this has nothing to do with charity.”
Connor echoed the tender look Ian gave her with a slow caress, rubbing her stomach and tracing the spot where she’d been stabbed. How did he know where to touch her? The scars were all but gone, and had been mere hours after she’d woken up in their home.
It was madness to even consider their offer, but she couldn’t resist. She was hopelessly in love with them. Any excuse to stay was worth considering. “I have to support myself, if I stay…”
“What if,” Ian said slowly as though trying to carefully convince her of his words. “You return to your classes, get your degree and open a studio? We could be investors. Right?”
“We could,” Connor agreed instantly and sat up next to her in bed. “Investments are how we get by these days. We want you to stay.”
That surprised her and filled her with a sense of hope. It scared the hell out of her. They wanted her to stay. She wanted to stay. But she had to be sure it was the right thing to do.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good.” Ian kissed her and soon both men were tucking her beneath the covers as sleep took over. No nightmares could take away the sense of peace and safety these two had given her in that moment.
Chapter Ten
The cathedral was beautiful. The massive stained glass windows glowed with candlelight from within. Multicolored shadows splashed over the snow below the glass like a frozen kaleidoscope. The gothic spires of the old edifice rose up into the clear midnight sky, majestic and mysterious. A pair of ten-foot tall archangels guarded the entrance, their wings curved around their shoulders, heads bowed as though in mourning.
Zoey held her breath, taking in the old world splendor from across the street.
The last week had passed quickly, too quickly for her. Wrapped up in her new intimate life with Ian and Connor, she’d lost all track of time. Like staring into a snow globe and imagining herself far away from the cares of the world in a tiny house, flakes of snow swirling around her. The past few days had been an endless dream full of delight and wonder. Between the erotic nights spent in the arms of her men and exploring the city without a care, she’d found herself. They’d helped her live again, not just exist.
The church doors opened. Light spilled across the icy walkway, painting the frozen water a rich gold, like the midmorning sun striking a river’s surface. Goosebumps rose on Zoey’s forearms, and she rubbed them through her thick winter coat. The sight before her humbled and moved her in a way she hadn’t felt since before her parents died.
The building was filled with life as the parishioners inside began to sing. The night breeze pulled the notes out into the air around her like an unseen choir of angels. The sounds of elation and love were wondrous. She felt like a child again, as if hearing music for the first time. Then the feeling of something greater stirred inside her bones, demanding to be recognized.
Faith. It had been so long since she’d believed in anything. She’d lost her faith and faith in herself…but no longer. A gasp of joy escaped her in a foggy puff of breath and she laughed.
It was nearly midnight and mass would start soon. She saw Connor and Ian at the back of the parking lot, still talking by the car. They’d join her soon, but it wouldn’t hurt to run inside and grab some seats. She checked the street and stepped off the curb to cross. She slipped a few times as she reached the middle. The road was covered in black ice, and she knew full well how dangerous it was. Her clutch purse slipped from her hands, and Zoey knelt to pick it up.
A car turned onto the street, tires whining as it tried to right itself. The driver accelerated and the headlights flashed onto Zoey a second too late. She scrambled awkwardly, trying to gain traction. The driver hit the brakes and the car fishtailed out of control.
The purse fell from her hands as the car struck her.
As though she were in a dream, everything that followed seemed not to be happening to her, but to some other poor soul. She could only stand by and watch.
Bones shattered, organs were crushed, her breath was stolen as she flew fifteen feet away. She slid over the ice like a broken ragdoll and then stopped. Everything went numb except her face. One cheek was pressed against the freezing ice and it burned like fire.
She was facing the church and the bells in the tower above her began to sway. They tolled loud and clear as the midnight hour struck and Christmas Eve turned to Christmas Day. The screams of the people nearby were drowned out beneath the merry clamor of bells. They were all she could hear and she clung to that sound, fighting to stay conscious.
Zoey sought to make sense of the shapes and movement before her. Most were blurry silhouettes against the pale light from the church’s entrance. The stone angel on the right was the only thing she could truly see. Everything else was too confusing, too dark. The angel’s head was bowed, its gown rippling around its legs, pulled by an ancient wind strong enough to move stone.
Then the massive feathered wings, once shrouded in grief around its body, suddenly flung wide. Diamonds glittered on the wing tips as the stone cracked and splintered. White fire shot through the fracturing stone. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The angel shivered, and the stone dust covering it blew away. The explosion of light that followed, bathed Zoey in its fiery heat, and she let go.
* * *
“Do you think she’ll like it?” Ian asked Connor as they stood by the car. People passed them on the way to mass, laughing and filled with holiday cheer. It used to make him sad to see such joy, but now he was full of happiness as well and the mood of these people was an added blessing.
“You’re sure it’s the one she pawned?” Connor studied the camera Ian had handed him that they’d hidden in a new camera bag in the back of the car.
“I saw the shop’s name when we bonded, and this camera. It’s either hers or one just like it.” Ian tucked the delicate piece of equipment back into the bag and set it in the backseat, next to the other presents they’d purchased that evening.
Ian hadn’t told Zoey yet about the bridge between their minds. It was something he planned to tell her soon. From the moment he touched her a week ago, he’d known she was his true mate, and Connor’s. She belonged to him and Connor just as Lara had. It made one wonder if there was in fact such a thing as reincarnation. They were fortunate to have been given a second chance at finding someone who would bring them close to being human again.
He wasn’t sure if she’d been aware of the subtle changes: their human appetites, their warmer skin, the occasional need to breathe. It had been happening to both him and Connor, just as they remembered what it had been like with Lara. A wondrous sense of life. Zoey was the woman he wished to build his future on. She was his salvation.
“She’ll love it.” Connor gave a boyish grin as he turned toward the church. “We’d best get inside before mass starts.”
“Try not to vamp out this time. It always causes a panic.” Ian shook his head, laughing.
Connor smirked. “You do that one time for a laugh and get branded for life. I thought the good Father would have enjoyed a livening up of the Christmas mass.” He’d flashed a bit of fang and fiery eye just for fun back in the 1840s. It had not been well received by the presiding priest.
“We almost were branded. And staked.”
“Come on. Father Callahan was the most boring priest in Irish history. We saved those people from dying of boredom.”
“And had to move to America as a result.”
The sound of screeching tires interrupted their conversation.
Ian’s instincts died. He was rooted to the spot, watching helplessly as a car spun out of control and hit someone standing in the middle of the street. A woman. He heard the impact crush her body and the shocked, pained exhalation as she fell to the ground.
A last breath, one he’d heard so often in his nightmares of late. A sound that would follow him forever into the shadows of the valley of death.
“Zoey!” Connor’s voice was distant, as though it were underwater.
Zoey? That couldn’t be Zoey, not her. Not her.
They ran to the body. The body. She was barely more than that. Her soul was leeching away. Blood dripped from her lips onto the icy road. Her eyes were half-closed. Life still glimmered in their luminous depths, gazing at something he couldn’t see. He followed her line of sight and saw only a large stone angel in the churchyard, flakes of snow swirling around its bowed head and wings.
Connor was on his knees, checking her injuries. The crowd around them were calling for help and dialing 911. When Connor raised his head and met Ian’s eyes, they spoke without words.
She’s nearly gone. Not long now.
It had happened once before, watching the life leave the woman they’d loved. They’d been unable to stop it then. Lara had slipped away. There one minute and gone in the next, final breath. Life was such a delicate thing, so many ways it could end. Each breath, each beat of a human heart was a gift, one so often taken for granted.
Connor’s voice broke. “Ian, I cannot do this again.”
Ian’s chest seized as he saw Connor’s face. He was fully human in that instant. They both were. Grief, loss and love were not for immortal hearts, or so he’d believed. After eighty years, he’d thought he’d never be able to feel this way again. Zoey had changed them, brought them back their humanity. Ian would be damned if he let her slip away.
“Grab Zoey. Let’s get her home!” Ian shouted.
They had no time, not if they were going to save her. Connor picked Zoey up in his arms and headed straight for home, moving like lightning, leaving a bewildered crowd behind him.
* * *
Connor burst into his room and laid Zoey on his bed, barely breathing. She looked so beautiful, even as she lingered so close to death. Ian appeared in the doorway a moment later, face pale.
“We’ll turn her.” It was not a question.
Connor nodded. At first he’d meant to protest, but looking at her now he was in total agreement with Ian. They had to save her. They bit their wrists and took turns giving her their blood.
If they succeeded she might hate them, but they had to take that chance. So long as Zoey was alive, or at least as alive as one of their kind could ever be, he could never regret the decision. Maybe someday she’d forgive them. After several long minutes, they stopped and waited. Her body shuddered, one last breath released so softly that Connor barely heard it.
“Zoey…” Pain flooded from his breaking heart.
“Were we too late?” Shock carved lines in Ian’s face as he knelt by the bed.
“We can’t be… She can’t… not again. She can’t go now.”
Even as much as he wanted to believe he could deny fate, Connor knew that mysterious forces in the vast universe sometimes took control. Perhaps the angels had wanted Zoey, and they’d come to claim her. How could he, an immortal cursed to live on blood, argue his right to keep her? He didn’t deserve her, and neither did Ian. Maybe they were monsters after all. Monsters didn’t get happy endings.
Ian dropped his head into his hands, shaking with silent sobs. They’d failed. Connor sat down next to the still body. His chest quaked as he struggled to draw breath, as though he was dying along with her. Of all the times he’d longed for death, had stared into the obsidian waters of the river night, it was nothing compared to now, except perhaps when he’d seen Seamus standing over Lara’s dead body. It had happened again, the thing that made his dead heart stir to life in his chest was gone.
“Oh lass, you always were too good for the likes of us.” Connor stroked her hair back from her face, his eyes burning with tears he couldn’t shed.
His eyes closed and she was still there, haunting him. He could see her brilliant smile, the one that lit her face with a strange and wondrous magic. Connor’s hands clenched. He could almost feel her small hand in his, his fingers lacing with hers as though she’d been made for him. The memory was strong, and it broke his heart all over again. Without Zoey he was nothing…
Just one more moment, holding her in his arms, if he could only have her back. Long enough to tell her everything in his heart.
* * *
The house was quiet. Zoey’s parents were cuddled up on the couch, the TV screen showing It’s a Wonderful Life. Zoey sat by the fire, a blanket around her as she watched her parents talk softly to each other. Her father smiled and her mother laughed, whispering something in his ear.
Her father turned, confusion crossed his face as he saw her.
“Zoey, what are you doing here?”
“It’s Christmas,” she replied with a bright smile and got up.
Her mother’s eyes shone with a bittersweet shimmer. “Go back, Zoey.”
The words stung. She belonged here, didn’t she? With them. Something pulled at her stomach, a cramping pain that made her double over.
She raised her head. “Dad…I want to stay with you…”
Her father shook his head sadly. They were her family, her life, why did they not want her here?
“We are always with you, sweetheart. Never forget that. But you can’t stay. Your place is back there, with them.”
Them? “No…Dad please…” Tears sparked in her eyes, and she rubbed her fists against them.
“Zoey, you’ve lived so long with your suffering. It’s time to accept the joy of the life you’ve been given. Our chapter is ended. That book is on the shelf. But you still have a story to live, one all your own.”
Her parents came over, kneeling on either side of her and hugged her tight. That feeling of closeness burned into her heart and mind, like the last kiss given by a lover, or the final wave from a departing friend. Sorrow and grief shared space in her heart with the memories of better, brighter days. Her mother stroked the hair back from her face.
“We love you, wherever you go, whatever you do. We are with you. Now go.
Live the life destiny has given you.”
The sharp pain struck her stomach again, and her parents faded into a gentle mist that rose up from the ground.
* * *
A spark skittered through Connor’s fingers where they’d touched Zoey’s cheek. His eyes flew open as the spark whipped through his hand where it had contact with her skin. It was a spark he recognized. Of life, after a fashion.
“Zoey?” Hope fluttered within him like a dove with newly mended wings. The pulsing of Zoey’s flesh grew sharper and stronger as that immortal spark took hold of her.
They’d done it.
“Christ, Ian, she’s going to make it!” Connor nearly whooped with joy. Ian lifted his tear strained face and reached for Zoey’s limp hand by the edge of the bed.
“We did it!”
Everything would be all right now. As long as she could forgive them…
“We did it.”
* * *
“Zoey…” The voice she heard was raw with pain. She knew that voice, yet she didn’t know it.
“Zoey, we love you. You cannot leave us. Do you hear me, woman?” Another voice growled.
“Find your way back, I can’t lose you,” the first voice whispered.
Cool fingers stroked her flesh and the sensation was startling, amazing, like an electric surge to her system. A flash of violent pain shuddered through her and she let out a cry. Her body seized. She couldn’t stop the rolling waves of pain. Bones snapped into place, flesh, tissue seemed to pull back together. Every second was pure agony and she couldn’t do anything but shout and writhe. Tears and sobs came without control.
“Zoey, let it go. Let it all out.”
She surrendered, letting the emotions and the physical pain spiral through her. After several seconds it faded and she was still—utterly still except for an occasional tremble. Her eyes fluttered open as she took in the scene around her.
She was lying in Connor’s bed. Connor. She knew him, loved him. And Ian. She loved him too. Her two great loves sat on either side of her, their eyes wide with worry, tension stretching their mouths into tight lines.