The Blood Stone was lowered until it was almost completely immersed beneath the waves. Then the crane let go and it sank out of sight.
Rory bent over the railing, trying to trace the white shape as it dropped deeper and deeper.
“The trench is nearly seven miles deep here, did you know?” Dante asked, leaning against the railing so his arm brushed hers.
“And the pressure is a thousand times more than it is here at the surface. I don’t think anyone in even my lifetime will figure out a way to get the Stone back.”
“You’ve been doing your homework.”
“Geek, remember?” she said lightly.
They fell silent, contemplating the choppy water. The waves were huge, yet the crew of the Victory had seemed to think it was a calm day. The stone could no longer been seen. It was just water.
“Well, it’s done,” Dante said quietly.
Rory nodded. She was suddenly afraid to move. To look at Dante. To even blink.
Dante turned and put his back against the railing and crossed his arms. She didn’t have to see to know he was looking at her. Her heart shifted. The ache that had sat in the middle of her chest for the last two weeks turned molten and swelled, making everything hurt.
“Figure he’s watching this?” Dante said softly.
Rory closed her eyes. Dante didn’t even need to say Sasha’s name. He knew they were both thinking of him.
“Of course he’s watching.” She fought to keep her voice normal. Neutral. “Everyone is.”
“Rory…”
She stood up with a jerk. “Don’t,” she begged.
Dante’s eyes were steady. The dark irises hid everything from her. “You’ve put off talking about it for weeks,” he said patiently.
“Rory! Dante!” Winter hurried over to them, smiling. “Isn’t this such a great day?” She hugged both of them without asking, squeezing hard. “There’s a party in the mess hall. Everyone is invited.”
“We’ll be there,” Rory told her. “In just a minute.”
Winter’s smile slipped a little as her gaze moved between them. “Well…when you’re ready.” She smiled and headed for the door that lead into the human sections of the ship, her red hair bright and burnished in the sunlight.
“We should go,” Rory said.
Dante caught her arm. She looked down at his fingers and he let it go.
“You can’t keep running away from this,” he said quietly.
“I’m not. I just…” She pressed her lips together. “I haven’t had time to think, Dante. To adjust.”
“Adjust to what? I’ve always been here for you. Always.”
Rory shook her head. “You know what I mean.”
“The only thing that has changed is the sex and you like sex. So that’s not it.” His eyes weren’t hiding anything now. “I’ve always loved you. That hasn’t changed. That just leaves you.”
Rory shook her head. “I miss Sasha. Okay?”
“I miss him too. Only, we’re not joined at the hip. Just because Sasha went back home, it doesn’t mean you can’t have me.”
“Maybe I don’t want you without him.”
Dante flinched. “You’re doing it again. You’re trying to drive me away.” He stood up and dropped his arms. “Sometimes I wish I could time travel. I would go back to that fucking duke you married and wring his neck the year before his balls descended. Twelve hundred years and you’re still afraid to take what you want.”
“He was a prince,” Rory said.
“Whatever.”
“I’m not afraid to take what I want. What scares me is what I have to give up if I do.”
“You should be terrified about what you’ll lose if you don’t.” His voice was low, harsh with control. He stepped around her and strode away.
Rory watched him go, her heart doing unhappy little flips and squeezes. She felt sick. It was impossible for her to actually be nauseous, yet she felt as though she could vomit with only a little more pressure.
She whirled and clutched the railing, letting the stiff wind that never seemed to cease bathe her face.
“Hey, Rory.”
Rory made her face shift back to pleasant neutrality and looked over her shoulder.
Kate was standing a few paces away. Farther behind her, Garret and Roman were waiting. Lini was holding Garrett’s hand.
“Kate,” Rory acknowledged stiffly.
“Are you coming to the party?”
“In a while.”
Kate leaned on the rail next to her. “I was surprised when Sasha went back to Russia.”
Rory sighed. “Kate, really, I know you mean well, but right now is probably the worst time to talk about this.”
“There never is a good time, for you.” Kate gave her a small smile. “You’ll push happiness away with both hands and all your strength because you’re afraid of it.”
“I didn’t push Sasha away.”
“He didn’t have reason to stay. You could have changed his mind and you know that. You just chose not to.”
Rory kept her eyes on the waves and the sunlight glittering on them.
“Dante and Sasha are perfect for you,” Kate said lightly. Gently. “Dante is all deep emotions and Sasha is fire and passion. You’re the thinker. Science is your religion. You all balance each other.”
Rory didn’t want to listen. She didn’t want to talk. Doing either would open up the can of worms. It would force her to figure this out. Yet Kate was making sense. “All three of us balance, while just two shifts the balance and makes it unworkable.”
“Something like that,” Kate said. “I was thinking that you and I are the same. We’re rowing our own boat in industries that don’t appreciate women rowing at all. They’d rather we sit at the stern and look pretty.”
Rory looked at her, startled. “So how do you justify being at the beck and call of two men? Garret and Roman are both strong. They’re leaders. Fighters. They’re old, too. They were human when women were chattel, when men were the only ones with any freedom.”
“That’s why they won’t ever fall into the mistake of thinking of me as theirs.” Kate grinned. “I won’t let them.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Because you’re too afraid to let yourself understand,” Kate said. She looked over her shoulder to where Roman and Garrett were talking together, apparently content to wait until she was ready to go. Kate’s smile warmed. “Commitment is a positive decision, Rory. It’s not selling out. The right men enhance your life. They don’t contain it.”
“I can’t make that demand of them. Love me, but let me live my life?” Rory shook her head. “They would never consider it.”
“Weak men would be threatened by such a demand. Dante and Sasha are not weak.” Kate smiled. “Don’t tell Dante, but I was one of his biggest fans when he was still playing. When he moved to the 49ers, I gave up on the Rams and traded over, too.”
Rory couldn’t help her smile. “He loves your movies.”
“Come to the party, Rory. Come and celebrate.”
“I will,” Rory promised, as Kate went back to the men she loved.
* * * * *
“The problem with these ‘istoric buildings is in the valuation, you see,” the little gray insurance man explained to Rick. “It’s a bit dodgy trying to pin down ‘istoric value because even the experts can’t agree.” He pushed at charred timber with his highly polished shoe and ash flew up into the air at the movement.
Rick looked over the blackened ruins of what had been a five hundred year old cottage. “As I didn’t have an evaluation made of the house, I fail to see how that factors in at all,” he said, fighting for politeness.
“There, that’s the sticking point,” the insurance man said. “We can’t replace the ‘ouse if we don’t know the true value.”
“You can’t rebuild history, anyway,” Rick pointed out. He scowled at the wreckage.
“We just want to do right by you,” the gray man said. “Yo
u being a fallen ‘ero and all.”
Rick sighed.
“Friends of yours?” the gray man asked.
A Vauxhall rental car was pulling up in the cramped parking space next to Rick’s car and the insurance man’s compact sedan. Marcus and Ilaria got out. Neither of them were smiling and neither moved away from the car.
Rick sighed again. “Yes, they’re friends,” he said.
“Then I’ll be on me way. I’m thinking the local ‘istorical society might be an ‘elp. I’m going to ring them.”
“Thanks,” Ricks said heavily. He walked the man back to his car and stood and watched him back out with slow caution, then the little car purred back down the lane toward the village.
Rick went over to the Vauxhall.
Marcus came forward. A slow, cautious step. “I get it,” he said. “We fussed too much and drove you crazy.”
“You did.”
“Only, you have to understand,” Ilaria said, speaking over the bonnet of the car. “You died.”
Rick lifted his hand and let it drop, at a loss for an answer. He remembered dying. He remembered the Summanus. Everyone did. The Serene Ones had put the world back in order, while not tampering with their memories. The Serene Ones could have just wound back the clock and reset everything that way, although that would have been a worse crime than their unintended meddling, in his estimation. “I’m back,” he said at last. “Everyone is.”
“Perhaps you did the right thing, running off to England. It gave us both time to adjust to that,” Marcus said.
“To everything,” Ilaria added.
Rick grimaced. “The insurance man just called me a fallen hero.”
Marcus laughed. “What offends you most about that? That you’re in the ‘fallen’ category, or that they know who you are, now?”
“Both,” Rick said flatly.
“I can’t freelance anymore,” Ilaria said. “Everyone knows who I am, too.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Rick said honestly.
“And I’m out of the spy business for real, this time. A well-known spy is an oxymoron.” Marcus shrugged.
“What are you going to do?” Rick asked. The tension in his chest was easing. This back and forth banter, the intimacy…it was a reminder of the best times. Perhaps they really had got over their shock and insane paranoia that he might disappear again if they didn’t watch him or touch him every second that passed.
Ilaria smiled. “The Italian military want me to train their snipers. Civilian advisor.”
Marcus snorted. “The Swedes are offering twice as much.”
“Take both,” Rick suggested. “Sweden in summer, Italy in winter. I have no objection to sunning myself on a beach in Naples.”
Both of them froze, staring at him.
Rick held out his arms. “Come here.”
Ilaria gave a little soft exclamation and threw herself into his arms. Marcus wrapped himself around both of them and kissed him. Hard.
When Rick could draw breath, he stroked Marcus’ neck and resettled Ilaria against him so all of her was in contact. “I was thinking, Marcus. How would you feel about going back to the laboratory?”
Marcus paled. “I’d rather cut off both hands and eat through a straw.”
“I’ll fund your work,” Rick told him. “So long as you follow my paradigms. I want to find a defense against Pyrrhus and other chemical weapons. All of them, every evil thing man has ever invented inside a test tube. Work for me, Marcus. Work for peace.”
Marcus let out a breath. He nodded. “Pay back,” he murmured. “That, I can do. Happily.”
* * * * *
Kate put both hands on the small of her back and stretched hard as she walked from the dining room to the big living room. There, she halted, astonished.
Roman lifted his finger to his lips. He was slouched in one of the armchairs, his feet on one of the ottomans. Lini was lying against him, deeply asleep.
Garrett got up from the sofa and came toward her. “She wouldn’t settle,” he explained.
“It’s full moon. Elah don’t sleep well when the moon is full,” Kate murmured. “I’m more astonished that it’s Roman she’s sleeping on. I thought she wouldn’t sleep for anyone but me.”
Garrett drew her over to the armchair. Kate bent over and resisted the temptation to caress Lini’s pale cheek, in case it woke her. Instead, she watched her breathing.
“Roman and I were talking,” Garrett said, speaking softly. “I think I can make a legal adoption go through.”
“You want to adopt Lini?” Delight filled her.
“Both of us, Kate,” Roman said, just as softly.
Kate sank down onto the ottoman next to his feet. “Really?”
“Really.” Roman grimaced. “I’ve spent my life flaking out on people.” His gaze flickered toward Garrett, who stared back, his eyes warm. “It’s time I made up for that,” he finished.
Garrett nodded. “That works for me. I’ll suck it up and live off the two of you until I get my fortune back.”
“Wouldn’t you rather just make another one?” Kate asked curiously. “Then you could be yourself, with no apologies.”
Garrett’s lips parted. Then he closed his mouth with a snap. “There was a reason I fell in love with you. I just remembered it.”
“My steel trap mind?”
“You know me.”
Kate nodded. “I do. Both of you.”
“Feels good,” Roman said.
“Very good,” Kate agreed. “Except…there’s just one thing.”
They looked at her expectantly.
“I want my friggin’ house back! Those dining chairs are killing my back and we’ve pushed Patrick’s hospitality and patience to the edge of the crevasse. Lini needs a room of her own and I want to build a production studio….” Kate trailed off. “Why are you both looking like that?”
Garrett picked up the tablet sitting on the arm of the sofa and handed it to her.
She turned it on. Blueprints spread out across the screen. Bedroom suites, a big kitchen, an even bigger attached editing studio, viewing room and a meeting room.
“I was an architect, once,” Garrett said.
“It’s marvelous,” she breathed. “How on earth are we going to pay for it?”
“We’ll figure it out,” Garrett said. “All of us.”
* * * * *
There were only six people in the big living room. No one was speaking.
Dominic sat at the piano, Blythe next to him, listening as he played Beethoven’s Für Elise, with flourishes of his own.
In the middle of the room, Jake was sprawled on the rug with a book in front of him, while the twins were at either end of the sofa, homework on their knees.
Patrick looked up from the script he was memorizing, to glance around the room. Since everyone had moved out of the house into their own accommodations, he had become reacquainted with solitude and silence, although this musical quiet was something he could easily become addicted to.
Francesca came into the room from the kitchen. Patrick was astonished at the change in her. She had looked like a used, middle-aged woman when she had first arrived from Chile. Now she looked much younger. The skirts and shirts had gone. She was wearing jeans which showed off trim hips and a top that clung softly to her curves. Her curly hair swung freely around her shoulders.
Dominic stopped playing. “You’re all dressed up, Francesca.”
“Hardly.” She rolled her eyes. “I have a date.”
“With Azarel?”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes again.
Dominic opened his mouth and Blythe pushed it closed with her fingers under his chin. “Shut up,” she said firmly.
Patrick put the script to one side. “How’s his study going?” He was curious, for he had paid Azarel’s tuition for a degree in psychology.
“He has a three point nine GPA,” Francesca said proudly. “The professors like his outsider perspective in discussions, too.�
��
“I bet they do,” Dominic said darkly.
Blythe glared at him.
“Oh, there is a young man at the door. I meant to say.” Francesca’s eyes twinkled. “He asked to see Simone.”
Simone bounced to her feet, her file tumbling to the floor. “Kiati!” She hurried toward the kitchen.
“Hey, sweetie,” Dominic said.
Simone looked at him.
“Think of Rory. Think of your mother. Don’t let him be mean to you. Not even once.”
Blythe bumped his shoulder. “If he is mean,” she told Simone, “you tell me about it. I’ll beat him into next week.”
“Mom!”
“Or me,” Dominic added.
“Or me,” Patrick said.
Simone rolled her eyes. “Great. That’s just what I need. Two super famous dads breathing down his neck, making him nervous.”
“That’s the plan,” Dominic said happily.
She stuck her tongue out at him and went into the kitchen. Francesca followed her.
Blythe sighed.
“She’ll be fine,” Patrick told her. “She’s her mother’s daughter.”
Blythe nodded. “I know. It’s just hard to watch them go through all the crap.”
“That’s life,” Dominic said. He let his fingers drift over the keys, which gave out a musical arc. When Patrick did that, the keys jangled. “It hands out crap and it hands out joy. You have to get through the crap first. That’s how you know you deserve the joy.” He kissed Blythe while Eloise made retching noises. Jake just grinned.
After a moment Dominic played again.
Patrick picked up the script again.
He’d waded through his own mountain of crap to get to this moment. He still didn’t feel as though he really deserved the joy, but he’d take it with both hands and hang onto it for dear life.
Yeah, he could get very used to this.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Herr William Aust opened the door to reveal a small office with a tiny desk. The desk took up most of the space and Rory could see she would have to navigate around the corners of it carefully. “Your office,” he announced.
Rory peeped in over his shoulder. “Thank you.”
Blood Ascendant (Blood Stone Book 5) Page 33