by Lori Sjoberg
Adam. She’d recognize his masculine scent anywhere. Her pulse sped up and her mouth went dry at the thought of seeing him tonight.
“Just a minute.” After retracting her claws, she slid back the bolt and pulled the door open.
“You didn’t check the peephole,” Adam said, a measure of accusation in his voice. He looked every bit as delicious as he had the night before. His shirt fit just a little tight across the pecs, while his jeans hugged him in all the right places. But something in his eyes seemed troubled, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it was.
“Didn’t need to.” She tapped the side of her nose. “I recognized your scent.”
His dark brows drew close together. “Oh, yeah. I hadn’t thought about that.”
Marlena opened the door wider. Obviously, something was on his mind, and she wasn’t in the mood to beat around the bush. “Is there something I can do for you tonight? I don’t remember us making plans.”
Manic energy rolled off him in waves as he stepped into the foyer. He dragged a hand through his short brown hair before scratching the back of his head. Then the confused expression dropped from his face, leaving one that appeared downright pissed off. “I had a few questions I wanted to ask you, Marlena. Or would you prefer it if I called you Magdala?”
Shit, she hadn’t seen that one coming.
The sound of her name—her real name—on his lips hit her like a punch to the gut. She hadn’t identified herself as Magdala since the day she’d been burned at the stake. She’d been Maria to the Gypsies, Maggie to the Irish, and Marlena ever since she’d immigrated to the United States in the early 1800s. Even Cassie didn’t know her true identity. She preferred to keep that part of her history buried in the past where it belonged.
How in the world did he find out? “Who told you?”
“Does it matter?”
“It does to me.”
Adam hesitated, as if internally debating whether or not to tell her. “Cassie told me about our connection, and my boss filled in the blanks.”
Oh, that little witch. It was a damn good thing Cassie wasn’t home. Old woman or not, she would have tanned her daughter’s hide on the spot. Still might. “She had no right to tell you.”
“No right?” His words came out in a growl. “How about my right to know about my own fucking past?” Eyes blazing, he slammed the door closed behind him and stepped closer, moving deep into her personal space. His pulse drummed at the base of his throat, his skin flushed with anger. “When were you planning to tell me, Magdala? A day from now? Next week? Next month? Never?”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. Warring emotions pummeled her senses faster than she could sort them out. She couldn’t think straight with him standing so close, but she couldn’t bring herself to step away.
“Why not, Magdala? That is your real name, isn’t it?”
“Not anymore.” Over time, she’d grown to hate that name and all of the bad memories that came with it. “Magdala died the day I buried what was left of your body.” For more than two years, she had no name, too consumed by guilt and sorrow to do anything more than live in the shadows of humanity and survive off their meager scraps.
Some of his anger seemed to have burned off, but his voice retained a sharp edge. “When were you going to tell me?”
She threw up her hands in a gesture of defeat. “Honestly? I don’t know. I was waiting until the time was right.” Whenever that was. With a sigh, she strode into the kitchen and opened the cabinet where Cassie kept the alcohol. She was going to need some liquid fortitude to get through everything she needed to tell him. “Do you want something to drink?” she called out.
She heard his footsteps enter the room, followed by the scrape of a chair being pulled back from the kitchen table.
“What have you got?” he asked.
“A little bit of everything. There’s beer and wine in the fridge.”
“In that case, I’ll take a beer.”
Knowing he liked his beers good and hoppy, she picked an India pale ale from the top shelf and then poured a small glass of rum for herself.
Mind racing, heart pounding, she stood with her back to the refrigerator and sipped her drink. Dark Jamaican rum warmed the back of her throat and loosened the knots in her belly. She had no idea how or where to begin, so she asked, “What do you want to know?”
Frosty silence filled the room as he took a long pull from his beer. He leaned back in his chair and the look of distrust on his face nearly broke her heart. “Let’s start with the basics. What was I like back then?”
If she closed her eyes, she could still make out Christopher’s features. That jet-black hair, those warm green eyes. The way his lips always seemed to be on the verge of smiling. Four centuries had eroded some of the finer details, but she could still recall the sound of his voice when he spoke her name. A flood of memories crowded her mind while mixed emotions clawed at her heart.
“He—you …” They were so different, it was getting harder and harder to think of them as the same person. Was that a good thing? Honestly, she had no idea. “For such a brawny man, Christopher was surprisingly gentle. He was shorter than you, but his work as a blacksmith made him a lot bigger around the chest.”
She smiled at the memory of Christopher coming home from work, tired, sweaty, and filthy. After cleaning off the grime, he’d tell her about his day over dinner, and then he’d take her by the light of the fire.
“How’d you meet him?” Adam asked before taking another drag off his beer.
“At church. My father and I sat four pews behind his family.”
He arched one eyebrow. “I didn’t peg you as the churchgoing type.”
“The entire town went to church,” she said simply. “Not attending would have invited speculation we couldn’t afford.”
As it was, she’d already been enough of an outcast. With her mother gone and her father drunk most of the time, she’d never fit in with the townspeople. And when she reached the age when her shifting abilities began to manifest, her father had given her only one piece of advice: Tell no one. It was short and sweet, but served her well, because if anyone found out just how different they were, their lives would have been in grave danger.
Too bad it hadn’t stopped the Reverend Finch from accusing her and Christopher of witchcraft.
Adam set the beer between his legs and rested his hands on his thighs. Some of the tension had bled from his features, but he still didn’t seem anywhere near relaxed. “Did he know about you? I mean, what you are?”
Marlena nodded. She’d only thought it fair to let him know what he was getting himself involved with. “I told him after he proposed, but he wouldn’t believe me until I showed him.”
“What did you turn into?”
“A wolf.” At the time she didn’t know anything about leopards. Looking back, she was amazed that Christopher hadn’t shot her on the spot. “After I shifted, he ran out of the house like a scalded cat. I didn’t see him again for a week.” She chuckled at the memory. “But when he came back, he asked me to marry him again, and that time I accepted his proposal.”
His family had been scandalized by the news of their oldest son sneaking off to marry the daughter of a dirt-poor farmer. But by the time they found out, the marriage had been consummated, and they grudgingly accepted their new daughter-in-law into the family.
The year they spent together as man and wife was the happiest of her life. Every day Christopher worked at the family smithy, and every night he came home and made love to her with a passion that left her breathless and limp. She had a roof over her head, food on the table, and most important, a man who loved her for who and what she was.
“Why him?” Adam asked. “Why not marry another shifter?”
She stared at him like the answer was obvious. “Because I loved him.”
Adam’s gaze dropped as he picked at the label on his beer bottle. “So what happened to me—I mean Christopher? How did he die?”<
br />
“He was burned at the stake for witchcraft.” Inside, she cringed at the memory. She tossed back the rest of her drink and set the empty glass on the counter. “After the crops failed for two seasons straight, the local pastor got it in his thick skull that witchcraft was somehow to blame. With the town’s blessing, he hired Reverend Finch, a witch finder who claimed to have cleansed two counties in England. By the end of the first week, seventeen people were arrested, and the village broke into hysteria. The next week, thirteen more were accused. They’d already executed twenty-eight people by the time Christopher and I were taken into custody.”
Bile rose in her throat at the memory of being stripped naked in the village square and searched for the devil’s mark. Of course, they’d found one in the form of a mole on her hip, and she was convicted of consorting with the devil. In spite of the torture, she’d refused to implicate her husband, but that hadn’t stopped them from convicting poor Christopher and condemning him to burn alongside her.
Even now, she could smell the smoke and charred flesh, and she could hear the taunts of the crowd. Witch! Devil’s whore! Burn in Hell! Her stomach churned and her eyes stung. “Please don’t ask me to tell you the rest.”
Before Adam could say anything, Marlena bolted for the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Dropping to her knees in front of the toilet, she tried throwing up but nothing came out. Nauseous and trembling, she leaned her head against the wall and willed her stomach to settle.
A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened and Adam stepped inside. He didn’t speak a word, but the sympathy in his eyes spoke volumes.
“How did you get in?” She wiped the tears from her face with a swipe of her hand. “I locked the door.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips as he knelt beside her and gathered her into his arms. “I’m a reaper, remember? Breaking and entering is part of our job description.”
Try as she might, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed a man to hold her. He felt so warm, so strong. For what seemed like an eternity, he gently rocked her back and forth while stroking her hair and murmuring words too low for her to make out. It felt so damn good to be held, to be comforted, that she closed her eyes and snuggled against him like a frightened child during a storm.
When her heart no longer felt like it was about to explode, she pulled away from his embrace. Already, she missed the feel of his arms, the strength of his body, the beat of his heart against her ear. His masculine scent still surrounded her and she inhaled deeply, drawing it into her lungs.
“Thank you,” she said, suddenly feeling foolish for having a minor meltdown on the bathroom floor.
Adam reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “What for? Telling me what I wanted to know?” He stood and brushed his hands against his jeans. “I’m the one who should apologize for making you relive that.”
“It was the only way for you to know what happened.” And now that he knew, she’d never have to relive it again. Words failed to describe how much that relieved her. She took the hand he offered, and he hoisted her up from the floor as if she weighed nothing. “It’s not like there’s anyone else around to tell you.”
He didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he stared straight down at his shoes, a conflicted look on his face. “I wish you would have told me before,” he finally said. “You have no idea how much it sucked to hear it from somebody else.”
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair for you to get blindsided like that.” She reached out and gripped his hand, the simple contact soothing her nerves. “When I first sensed the mate bond, I didn’t know what to make of it. Then I realized you had Christopher’s soul, but you’re so different from him, and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t attracted to you just because of who you used to be. And once I realized my feelings for you were genuine, I didn’t know how to tell you everything without sounding like I was some kind of lunatic.”
Adam rubbed his hand across his face and let out a rough exhale. “Well, when you put it that way, I guess I can understand why you didn’t tell me. I’m still not happy about it, though.” His dark eyes lingered on her face. “No more secrets?”
“None, I promise.” It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and for a moment, it left her feeling giddy. “Is there anything else you want to know?”
Tilting his head, Adam smiled down at her. “I’ve got about ten thousand questions burning through my brain, but we’ve covered enough ground for one night. Tomorrow I’ll hit you with more. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough.” Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss against his cheek.
His gaze met hers, and an unmistakable flare of desire pulsed between them. After so many years of feeling empty inside, it felt foreign to want a man so badly. She licked her lips, and his eyes darkened with an intensity that bordered on savage. But when she tried to slip her hand around his neck, he caught her wrist and held it against his chest.
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “Not tonight. I want you, but not while you’re thinking of him.” Lifting her hand to his mouth, he pressed a lingering kiss against the backs of her knuckles before letting go. “Get some rest, Marlena. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
Chapter 18
Marlena sat on the couch with her feet tucked beneath her, a pillow hugged to her chest.
An action movie played on the television, but she paid no mind to the exploding vehicles and ridiculously choreographed fight scenes. Instead, her mind kept obsessing over what had happened a few hours ago with Adam.
On the bright side, everything was out in the open. No more secrets, no more lies of omission. No more having to tiptoe around the mate bond and their prior life together. Only now she had to deal with the aftermath. Once he had time to digest everything, would he embrace their connection or reject it? The possibility of him denying the bond was enough to rip a hole in her chest.
And then there was Cassie to contend with. Try as she might, she couldn’t understand why her daughter had betrayed her. Not only did it sting, but it also pissed her off. How dare the little witch jeopardize her future by sharing such sensitive secrets?
The sound of the front door opening caught Marlena’s attention. It was Cassie, home from her shopping expedition. She waved to her friends outside before closing the door, her arms weighed down with bags. She acted as if she didn’t have a care in the world, and her cheerful attitude made Marlena even angrier.
“Have fun?” she asked when Cassie breezed into the living room.
“Oh, yes.” If the witch noticed the sarcastic tone in her voice, she didn’t let it show. Cassie shooed the cat off the coffee table to make room for the spoils of her shopping. She flashed Marlena a saccharine smile as she dug into one of the bags. “I found the cutest outfit for you at Kohl’s. If you don’t like it, I can always bring it back, but I just—”
“That’s not what I meant, and you damn well know it,” Marlena snapped, her control on her temper slipping.
Cassie had the nerve to look genuinely puzzled. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, really?” Teeth clenched, Marlena rose from the couch. She stalked toward her daughter until she was close enough to see the pulse beating at her throat. “After what you pulled, you’ve got a lot of gall to play dumb. How dare you tell him?”
In an instant, Cassie’s expression went from surprised to defiant. As a teen, she’d reacted the exact same way when Marlena caught her smoking behind the roller-skating rink with her friends. “Tell him what? About his past? I only did what needed to be done.”
“It wasn’t your place to tell him.”
Cassie cocked one hand on her hip. “Somebody had to do it, and it didn’t seem like you were going to get around to it any time soon.”
For a second, Marlena’s vision flashed red. She dug her fingers into her palms as she struggled to keep her anger in check. “I was waiting for the right time
.”
“Oh, and when exactly would that be?” Judging by the tone of her voice, she didn’t think much of Marlena’s plans. “What’s done is done, and now that he knows, the two of you can move forward. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“That’s not the point. I should have been the one to tell him.”
“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it now, so you might as well get over it.”
It took everything Marlena had not to scream. “Don’t you get it? He’s never going to trust me again.” The thought left her cold inside. How could they build a future together without a foundation of trust and respect?
Emotionally spent, she plopped down on the couch and buried her face in her hands.
Cassie sat down beside her and placed a hand on her back. “Just give him a little time to work things out in his head. It’s a lot for a man to digest. Once he does, he’ll be back. You’ll see.”
“I hope you’re right.” Living four centuries without the love of her mate had been difficult enough. To find him again, only to lose him, was unthinkable.
The next morning, Adam was still trying to wrap his brain around everything he’d learned about his past. He’d already moved past denial and anger, and was in the middle of trying to figure out what it all meant.
It didn’t help that he’d barely slept the night before. Every two hours, he’d dragged his ass out of bed to make sure Samuel drank Cassie’s potion. Thankfully, the boss hadn’t bitched too much, only grumbling from time to time about the liquid tasting worse than death. When Adam left the house earlier that morning, there was still enough potion left in the jug for two, maybe three doses. Once it was all gone, it was up to Dmitri to ensure Samuel bathed in the herbs and powders according to Cassie’s instructions. He shuddered to think of what might happen if Samuel gave the former reaper an attitude.
Adam yawned, wishing he had time for a nap. Unfortunately, he didn’t, so he finished his coffee and signaled the waitress for another refill. At the rate he was going, he’d have enough caffeine in his system to give a rhino the shakes. With the breakfast rush over, the diner wasn’t crowded, and the waitresses didn’t seem to mind if he and Martin burned time there before their next appointments.