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Transcending Darkness

Page 57

by Airicka Phoenix


  “Are you okay?”

  An aura of calm had settled over him. Halos of black still clung to the edges, faint, barely there at all, but there was actual peace in the lines of his body, serenity in the curves of his face. He looked so happy that her question felt stupid.

  “Never been better.”

  Something in his calm relaxed the weight settled on her chest. She relaxed in her seat and allowed herself to finally feel the excitement and relief of starting over, of leaving all her demons behind.

  “So, any idea where we’re going?”

  Eyes never leaving the road, one hand abandoned the wheel to reach across and clasp hers. It was drawn over and a kiss was brushed against the heel.

  “I promised you Europe.”

  Epilogue

  Six years later…

  “Dinner!”

  Salty sea breeze wafted off the Mediterranean to wash her summons back in her face, dragging strands of hair with it to blind her as she squinted against the smudge of orange and red conjuring the heavens beyond the walls. Across the yard, the two figures sat unaware as the day melted into evening and their little corner of the world slowly settled. They sat in the heart of the garden they’d planted together, surrounded by an array of blossoms as the setting sun painted them in a soft, golden light. Seeing them never failed to make her heart miss a beat.

  “Want me to get them, miss?” Aniela poked her head out through the open terrace doors, her gnarled hands twisted in a dishtowel. “The food is almost finished.”

  Juliette shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ll get them. Thank you.”

  Abandoning the patio, she picked her way down the steps and along the cobblestone path. Her slippers made no sound as she broke off and padded across the grass. Killian’s low murmurs greeted her before she even reached them.

  “That’s how spring is made,” he was saying when she got close enough.

  “Trolls?” Four year old Callum peered up at his father with big and dark eyes. Locks of unruly black tumbled across his small brow, shadowing the furrow of concern knitting his eyebrows together. “Can they get under my bed?”

  “No,” Killian assured him. “That’s what the elves are there for. They make sure the trolls stay far away from the house.”

  “I don’t like trolls,” Callum confessed.

  Chuckling, Killian lowered his face and brushed a kiss to the top of their son’s head. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

  “Or Mommy?”

  “Or Mommy.”

  Satisfied, Callum slumped back against his father’s chest and stared at the bush. She knew he would have a million questions about his day later when it was time for bed. There was never any shortage of the whys and hows of the world and she cherished those moments with him.

  “Hey you two.” She stopped when her shadow had draped over the pair, capturing their attention. “It’s dinner time.”

  One eye closed against the sun, Callum tipped his head far back to peer at her. “Daddy was telling me about the trolls and the elves that live in the garden.”

  “Mm, that is a good one,” she agreed. “But you still need to wash up. Go on.”

  Callum, with his father’s assistance, got to his feet and hurried back to the house. Juliette watched him until he was safely inside before turning back to her husband.

  “How many is that today?”

  Dusting off his trousers—his new ones, she noted—Killian rose. “Only six today.”

  Juliette laughed. “Maybe you should write all your stories into a book that he can read himself.”

  Killian scoffed. “What fun is that?” He moved closer and locked his arms around her middle. She was pulled into his chest where she nuzzled happily. “How’s my girls?”

  “Exhausted,” she confessed. “I can tell she’s already going to be a spoiled princess just by how tired she makes me when I so much as lift a finger.”

  Chuckling, he kissed her lightly. His palms splayed along the side of her protruding belly, burning skin through the material of her light dress.

  “I can’t wait.”

  Her insides warmed as it always did at the joy that filled his eyes at the mention of their growing family. “You sure? You’ll probably have to tell twelve stories a day with the two of them.”

  Killian shook his head. “Don’t care. I’ve got two knees for a reason.”

  Six years and still Juliette never once regretted her decision to leave Juliette Romero behind in a brilliant inferno. Six years of being with the man she couldn’t live without, living in a home they had created together, and raising a family neither of them ever expected they’d have. Just watching him with Callum tightened her resolve that she’d made the right choice leaving that day. She would do it again in a heartbeat given the chance. He’d given her so much more than just a new name in a new postal code. He’d given her a future with him and with their children. He’d given her safety and security and the kind of happiness written about only in books. It didn’t seem to matter how many years passed, she only seemed to fall more in love with him with every passing day.

  “What are you thinking about?” A finger hooked a strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear.

  “I can’t tell you. It’ll go to your head.”

  A dark eyebrow lifted. “And you say I’m the tease.”

  Laughing, Juliette took his hand and tugged him towards the house. Along the way, he released her fingers to slide his hand around her waist. He fit her into his side as they climbed the steps together. Their hips and shoulders bumped in that familiar way she was so used to from years of being tucked into that place of comfort.

  “I got a postcard from Vi this morning,” she remembered. “She’s loving the museums in Paris and the art classes she’s taking are coming along great.”

  Killian pressed a kiss to the side of her head before moving ahead of her to help a struggling Callum shut the faucet off. He grabbed a towel and lightly patted the boy’s hands dry before scooping him off the stool and moving back to her.

  “That’s good. How’s her French coming along? Any better?”

  Juliette grinned as she pulled Callum’s chair out. “Well, it’s apparently good enough to land her a date with some smoking hot French guy. Her words, not mine.”

  Shaking his head in amusement, Killian set Callum into his booster and scooted his chair under the table. “Does this mean she’s not with that British guy with the spiky hair?”

  “I guess not.”

  Grinning, Killian turned to her. He opened his mouth when a cry ripped through the house. Aniela, her face was as white as her apron, tore into the room calling for Killian in frantic squeaks.

  “Sir, there’s a man at the door and he’s trying to get in—”

  “Get Callum.” Killian didn’t even wait for the maid to finish. He snatched a knife off the table. “Now, Juliette.”

  Heart hammering, she dragged the boy’s chair back and scooped him into her arms.

  “Mommy?”

  “It’s okay, baby.” She clutched him tight. Her panicked gaze went to Killian’s.

  “Go,” he told her, already circling the table towards the front door.

  Not waiting to be told a second time, she took Callum and ran from the room. The place was designed for that exact situation. It was how they’d built it, with ways to get in and out that only they knew about. Juliette cut through the dining room and into the library. Her fingers trembled as she dragged the third bookcase open on its hinges and set Callum inside.

  “Remember what we talked about?” she whispered, her voice rushed and urgent.

  Callum nodded, his little face white beneath his freckles.

  “I love you.” She kissed him. “So much.”

  “Mommy…?” Dark eyes brimmed, breaking her heart.

  “It’s okay. I promise. It’s okay. Just be very quiet until Mommy comes back, okay?”

  His bottom lip quivered. A tear slid down his cheek, followed b
y a sob that she quickly shushed.

  “Shhh, baby. It’s okay.”

  With a last kiss, she shut the door. Then ran to the bronze lamp perched on an antique table. She tore the shade off, spun it around and hefted it against her shoulder. Her heart thundered in her throat, sounding ridiculously loud between her ears. It muffled the world around her, irritating her as she pushed her back against the bookcase and waited.

  The wait wasn’t long. She spotted the shadow before the footsteps. Her limbs trembled as she waited, breath held, counting every second.

  “Juliette—”

  With a scream, she swung. The figure lurched back just in time to keep from getting their brain splattered by the jagged base of the lamp. The metal rebounded off the wall, chipping paint and creating a hole.

  “Juliette!” Killian grabbed her arms.

  The lamp dropped from her grasp with a deafening thud. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest as she stared into her husband’s face.

  “Killian…?”

  “Jesus, you’re supposed to be in there with him!” But he hauled her into his arms, crushing her close as she trembled against him. His hands smoothed over her hair and down her back. “It’s all right,” he promised softly.

  She pulled out of his arms and rushed to the bookcase. Callum peered up at them. His face tearstained and blotchy. His little arms flung up and she pulled him to her.

  “I was quiet, Mommy,” he croaked into her shoulder.

  “You were,” she whispered, her own voice wavering. “You were such a good boy.” Her filmy eyes went to her husband. “Who … who was it?” she stammered, fighting like crazy to keep from throwing up.

  Rather than answer, Killian went to them and pulled them both into his arms. He kissed the side of Callum’s head, then Juliette’s lips before drawing back.

  “Are you okay?” His palm settled on her stomach.

  She nodded. “Just tell me who was at the door.”

  Pausing long enough to search her eyes, Killian took Callum from her, perched him on his hip and took her hand.

  “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”

  He was right. She wouldn’t have believed him, not unless she’d seen it with her own two eyes and even then…

  “Maraveet?”

  The woman hadn’t changed a freckle since they saw her all those years ago. Her hair was shorter, but her eyes were still that cat green Juliette envied. She wore tight jeans tucked into soft, leather boots and a flowy top that complimented her full chest. In her hands was a purse she dropped unceremoniously when she spotted Juliette.

  “Surprise!”

  That was an understatement. They hadn’t seen the woman in six years. Occasionally, Killian would get a text on the untraceable phone Maraveet had given him the night they blow up his manor and set off into the sunrise. It never made any sense to Juliette, but he would tell her Maraveet was in China or Prague or Canada. It was always somewhere new. She knew Killian had told Maraveet where they were in that weird cryptic message of theirs, but Maraveet had never, not once dropped by.

  “What are you doing here?” Juliette asked, still not fully steady from the scare Maraveet had given them. “And what the hell are you doing trying to break in? You scared the hell out of us.”

  Maraveet had the decency to grimace. “Just testing your reflexes.”

  Heart refusing to slow, Juliette could only glower at the woman.

  “It wasn’t funny,” Killian said for her. He shifted Callum higher on his hip. His hand rested carefully against the boy’s back. “You know that.”

  Maraveet was no longer listening. Her eyes had fixed on Callum with wide fascination. “Who is this?”

  “This is Callum.” Killian turned his body so she could catch a glimps of the face Callum had squished into Killian’s neck. “Callum, this is your Aunt Maraveet.”

  Callum refused to move. His thin arms tightened around his father and he remained stubbornly hidden.

  “He’s shaken,” Killian stated, looking hard at his sister. “Someone decided to break into his house.”

  “Well, how was I supposed to know he was here?” Maraveet demanded, still watching Callum like he were a unicorn. “I didn’t know he existed.” Her gaze went to Juliette’s stomach. “Either of them.” One corner of her mouth twisted. “Jesus, I’m an aunt! I’m an aunt twice!” With a giddy laugh, she turned to the man standing at her shoulder, tall and quiet “I’m an aunt!”

  The man chuckled. It was a nice sound, a kind sound that matched his handsome face. He had the flawless tan of a European with thick, glossy black hair and golden brown eyes set in a movie star chiseled face. Juliette didn’t recognize him, but the way he stuck to Maraveet’s side, the way he had his hand settled on the small of her spine, she had a feeling they would be seeing a lot of him in the future.

  “Here I thought I would be surprising you guys.”

  “I’m surprised,” Killian said, chuckling. “So, who’s your friend?”

  That caught Maraveet’s attention. Her cheeks flushed pink as she turned so they could see the seven foot man towering drastically over her.

  “This is Pedro. We met in Spain.”

  Killian raised an eyebrow. “Is there a reason you brought Pedro from Spain or have you upped your business from things to people?”

  The color on Maraveet’s face darkened. “He and I might have gotten married.”

  “Married?” Killian’s mouth opened and closed a few times before the rest of his exclamation poured out. “How? When?”

  “Well, it’s a bit of a story.” Maraveet grimaced. “But basically, he was trying to arrest me and I seduced him.”

  “I wasn’t trying,” the man muttered with a dry little frown that was contradicted by the laughter in his eyes. “I did arrest you.”

  His rich, Hispanic purr was almost as delicious as Killian’s Irish one. It rumbled flawlessly over the kitchen, tangling with the spicy scent of cooked meat.

  “You’re a cop?” Juliette blurted. “You married a cop?”

  “I don’t think what we did with those handcuffs can be construed as arresting,” Maraveet said to her husband before turning her attention to Juliette. “Not anymore. I’ve converted him to the dark side…” she broke off when Pedro raised an eyebrow. “We might have converted each other. No more arresting for him, no more … borrowing for me.”

  Killian glanced from one to the other, his expression bright with hope. “Does this mean…?”

  Maraveet shrugged with a teasing grin. “I might have hung up my hat. Kind of had to…” With a bite of her lip, she touched her flat belly and Juliette squealed.

  “Really?”

  Giggling, Maraveet nodded. “Only just found out last month. Pedro and I decided it was time to get a house and a fence and maybe a dog, but a big one with lots of teeth.”

  “I think I need a drink.” Killian blew out a breath.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?” Juliette asked. “Supper’s already on the table and I want to hear more about how you guys got together.” She turned her attention away from the pair to the baffled maid huddled just inside the doorway between the kitchen and the hallway. “Aniela, can you please set room for two more?”

  Bobbing her head, Aniela peeled herself away from the doorframe and hurried to do as she was asked.

  Maraveet glanced at Pedro. “We can stay a little bit, yes?”

  Tawny eyes settled on her face with the absolute devotions of a man head over heels in love. “If you like.”

  Beaming, Maraveet took his hand, but looked to Juliette. “We’ll stay.”

  Dinner was filled with talks of Maraveet’s adventures, of Pedro’s chase to capture the thief stealing art pieces all over Spain and him finally capturing her, only to fall captive himself. It was filled with laughter and all the things that Juliette had always wanted filling her home, love, friendship, and happiness. But also the promise of a tomorrow. She only wished Vi had been there. The table just wasn’t complete
without her.

  Maraveet and Pedro stayed the night. Killian showed them to the guestroom as Juliette put Callum to bed. The boy had said very little since the incident. While he was normally a reasonably quiet child, she knew he would have had a million questions. They had told him of his Aunt Maraveet, had told him she was far away and it had taken them a week to answer all his questions. For him to be so sullen meant something was wrong and Juliette knew exactly what it was and it broke her heart that he had to go through it at all.

  “Hey, want a story?” she asked as she drew the sheets around his tiny chest.

  He shook his head.

  Juliette sighed and perched on the mattress next to him. “Want to talk about what’s making you sad?”

  Dark eyes lifted and it always amazed her how much they reminded her of Killian’s; they both had such open, expressive eyes.

  “I didn’t like the bookshelf,” he whispered. “I don’t want to go in there again.”

  With her pregnancy hormones, it was a task not to burst into tears at the solemn declaration. She stalled having to answer by brushing strands of hair off his brow.

  “Mommy and Daddy will always protect you,” was all she could promise. “We will never let anything hurt you or your sister.”

  “Will she have to go in the bookshelf?”

  “Not if we can help it.” Killian stepped into the room, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

  “I don’t want her going in there.” His small mouth pursed in determination. “She won’t like it and I won’t let her.”

  Juliette rose off the bed, her emotions overwhelming her as tears started a steady trickle down her cheeks. She quickly kissed Callum on the forehead, whispered she loved him before hurrying from the room.

  She was standing by the terrace in the room she shared with Killian when he joined her. He shut the door and crossed over to stand behind her. His arms slipped around her middle and he drew her back against his chest.

  “I hated that,” she croaked.

  “I know. Me too.”

  Her back shuddered with a quiet sob. “I never … ever wanted to do that.”

 

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