Could I be with him even with his immortality and my own secrets standing between us?
“Look at me,” he said in a firm-but-gentle tone. I lifted my gaze, and his eyes burned with a familiar intensity that heated me from my core. “I know you are worried about what will become of us, but you need to trust things will work out.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because,” he said. “Because I have never allowed myself to get involved before, but with you I am unable to deny the connection. Things have to work out.” He tucked a loose curling strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re my life now, Sophia. That will remain so. Always.”
“Am I?” I whispered. I grazed his forearm with my fingertips. His skin was warm, smooth, and buzzing with energy. Touching him . . . it was how I imagined it would be to touch light. Not the heat, but the very essence.
“I’ve stopped protecting my heart from you,” he said. “I’ve stopped fighting the way I feel, stopped fighting the natural draw I feel toward you. Now you need to do the same.”
My throat tightened, and I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting to disappear from the moment.
“Stop fighting it,” he murmured. “You can’t treat everyone in your life the same. You can’t treat us all as though we’ve hurt you.”
I shook my head slowly, opening my eyes. “I don’t.”
He grinned, lifting my hand and grazing his lips over my knuckles. “Don’t you?”
Shit. He was right. “It’s not that easy,” I said, finally. “It’s not even about that.”
“Everything has to make sense with you.” Charles’ voice edged on frustration. “It all has to add up, to be perfect, neat, in your control. You make your decisions based on fears of how others might judge you. How can you live like that?”
I eased my hand away from his grasp and sat up. “Wow,” I said, unable to contain my defensive tone. “Don’t hold back for my sake.”
He sat up and grasped my hand again. “I wouldn’t want you to hold back for mine.”
“I’m not holding back,” I lied.
“Do you think, after three centuries, I can’t read a person? Auras or not?”
As much as I hated the way he challenged me, it was also the very reason I knew he was my perfect match. He inspired me toward growth. Now I worried what I was about to say would ruin the one thing he appreciated about me: that I’d accepted him for who he was when the rest of his world, and probably my own as well, would not.
“Fine. You want me to tell you what’s bothering me?”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s exactly what I want.”
I searched his face. Should I tell him what Adrian’s books had said? How would he react to the idea of sacrificing his Cruor side? His immortality, at the very least, would remain so long as he continued to shift. I wasn’t asking for a commitment, only the promise of possibility.
He caressed his thumb across my bottom lip and along my jaw. “Thinking again?”
I inhaled deeply, repressing a sigh. “I read something in one of Adrian’s books about your . . . you know . . . problem?”
I hated calling it a problem. Being a dual-breed wouldn’t have really been a problem if the Maltorim hadn’t made it one. But his immortality—admittedly, that did bother me.
His easy smile slipped. “Is this in regards to the Ankou?”
I straightened, trying to contain the fluttering in my stomach. “I know you’re skeptical,” I said, “but this sounds promising.”
“They do have a special form of magic—especially where transformations are concerned—but they aren’t going to help unless something’s in it for them.” His hand dropped back to his side. He was all discussion now; clearly, this wasn’t what he expected me to bring up.
“It’s worth a try,” I said quietly. “I have a feeling this might work.”
“First tell me what the book said.”
I spun the beads on the bracelet he’d given me. He wasn’t going to like my answer.
“We kill the part we want gone?” I said, my uncertainty strong enough to turn my statement into a question. “They performed the same procedure at the start of the genocide, but the recent success rates have been nearly flawless.”
“Genocide?” Charles repeated. “Nearly flawless?”
“The Maltorim killing people who aren’t ‘pure’.”
“Not exactly a genocide. Go back to what you were saying: I have to die first? What kind of theory is that?”
“How is it not like genocide?”
“They didn’t kill off all of one kind. Only those who were dual-natured.”
“The dual-natured are a kind of people.” Sadness tugged at my heart. He’d grown up in a world where his mixed nature wasn’t accepted, and this had become his ‘truth’. “I’ll stop looking into this if you aren’t interested.”
His expression sagged. “I don’t trust the Ankou. They might do a lot of good, some of them, but they aren’t any better than any other supernatural race. There’s a good chance they’ll turn us in to the Maltorim, and the Maltorim gave up their efforts for purification long ago. If they find out about my nature, I’m dead. My family’s dead. You’re dead. That’s all there is to it, Sophia.”
“The Ankou have been helping save other dual-natureds from being killed,” I persisted.
“Even if this were true—and we have no way to know for certain—you must understand my position. I’m trapped between worlds. You are mortal, and my parents are not. I refuse to let go of either of you. There has to be another way.”
“What other way?” I asked.
He exhaled quietly, setting his gaze on mine. “Please try to understand what it’s like for me. There is no in-between. There will never be any sense of death coming. It’s not something that will creep up on me as the years pass. When I die, it will be at the hands of someone else—someone who knows how to kill my kind. It’s not as though I asked for this life. I wouldn’t wish immortality on my worst enemy.”
He spoke with such conviction that chills pricked my arms.
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” I said.
“I’ve lived to see a lot of people die,” he said solemnly, “and I have to spend eternity carrying those losses. If I lose my parents, I would be alone in my grief forever. I would be giving them the same if they lost me. You must understand: immortality is not an escape from death. It’s an accumulation of loss. I risk too much by exposing myself on some whim my Cruor side can be removed.”
“I would never ask you to give up your parents,” I said, hoping to impart my sincerity. “And I hope you know that if immortality weren’t an issue, there’s nothing I would change about you.”
“I know, Sophia,” he said warily. “I wish I had answers for you. For us.”
“I just don’t know how to be with you completely when there’s no possibility of a future for us.”
“Being the world’s biggest pessimist isn’t everything,” he said. “Maybe if you show a little faith, things will work out.”
“How?”
“Faith, Sophia. Life isn’t always going to give you the answers to the questions you’re asking. Sometimes you have to make do with the answers you get.”
If only he knew that was exactly what I was doing. “Thanks, Yoda.”
“Like it you do, when I tell you these things.”
“You’re hilarious. Really. But what are you going to do? Fetch my walker when I’m eighty?” As I spoke the last sentence, a bit of my deeper hurt jabbed into my voice, and I swallowed, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “I’m just trying to be reasonable.”
“That’s your problem. Your head keeps getting in the way.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re asking me to kill part of who I am, and yet you won’t even open up to me. What is plaguing you, Sophia? You toss and turn all night, you’re never fully there when I’m talking to you. Something is bothering you. I might be able to help if you would talk to me.”
&n
bsp; I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
“Give and take, Sophia. It needs to go both ways.”
I stared at my hands, wishing more than anything I could just disappear entirely.
“Let me tell you something, Miss Reasonable. We definitely can’t be together if you’re dead, and you might as well be signing a death wish if you plan to seek out the Ankou under these circumstances. They aren’t called ‘the elemental grim reapers’ for no reason. If something happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”
“All I wanted to know is if you would be willing to grow old with me, if things ever developed between us that way.”
“What do you think all this is about?” he asked, spreading his hands. “This is about wanting to be with you. But it’s also about what being with you means.”
THE NEXT DAY, Charles and I cuddled in the bedroom with our favorite movie—Red Violin. Charles rested back against his pillow, eyes closed. I couldn’t see past his youthful face—couldn’t see him as a man who’d lived through centuries.
“How much of your life can you remember?” I asked.
“Remember?” He opened his eyes, his expression soft and curious. “I don’t. Everything blurs together, to the point most major life events carry about as much weight as tying shoelaces. But there’s always a new adventure. Always something new.”
“Like me?”
He pulled me on top of him, so that I straddled his hips. “You are more than an adventure, Sophia.”
I crossed my arms behind his neck, and his heartbeat quickened against the inside of my forearms. He planted several soft kisses along my jaw, his fingers playing across my collarbone. Anticipation robbed me of my breath, and my heart leapt to my throat.
He tipped his forehead to mine, his face too close now to make out anything more than his teal eyes and dark, tangled lashes. My heart went wild in my chest. I quickly realized I was holding my breath, and it took a conscious effort to release it slowly.
“Charles?” I whispered, my lips brushing his as I spoke.
His mouth closed over mine, and I kissed him, tasting him with a hunger that belied my outward calm. He wound his hand in my hair, his lips pressed firmly on my own. A wave of heat traveled over my skin as desire pulsed through my body like wildfire on a hot Colorado day, consuming me the way those fires consumed whole stretches of forest.
Charles’ warm hands untangled from my hair and slid down my back, his fingertips tracing small circles across my skin, just under my shirt. Swimming through the haze, I fought to control the swirl of emotions and relax away my doubts as his hands slowly moved up to caress my breasts through the lace of my bra. His thumbs grazed my nipples through the material, and my breath quickened.
“Sophia,” he said softly, pulling away. “We should stop.”
But when I kissed him again, he didn’t resist. Our breathing shifted into deeper, heady breaths, the air surrounding us growing thicker and effused with passion. A growl rumbled in his chest as I slid my arms around him. I leaned back on the bed, pulling him on top of me, his body flush with mine, his mouth moving to my neck, dropping kisses across my chest, down to where the plunging neckline of my blouse came to a halt.
His body shifted between my knees, his interest pressing the inside of my thigh as his lips returned to mine and his hand caressed over my hips, up toward my navel. His fingers played along the waistline of my jeans, skimming the skin beneath the top of my underwear, and I sighed. He paused, kissed me once more gently, then flopped back on the bed to stare at the ceiling.
Moonlight shone through the window and gleamed off his fangs. My heart sped, but desire replaced my usual fear. I didn’t care about his fangs. I only wanted to give in to the steady pool of warmth in my stomach.
I sat up and cupped my hands around his face, strands of his hair feathering against the pillow. “We can’t stop every time.”
He pointed toward the movie. “Look. Your favorite part.”
“Your fangs bother you that much?” When he didn’t answer, I straddled over him, blocking his view of the television. I leaned forward, my hair spilling over my shoulder onto the pillow beside him, and pressed a kiss against his neck and another along his jaw. I ran my hands over his shoulders and whispered in his ear, “They don’t bother me.”
Charles grabbed my wrists, and, in one swift movement, pinned me to the mattress. He didn’t need his strength to hold me there—the suddenness of his actions were enough to leave me frozen. Heat radiated from his body, warming against my thighs, stomach, and breasts. His scent of vanilla and sandalwood and his close proximity sent my body into a state of arousal, and my nipples hardened beneath my bra. I peered up at him, unsure what to make of the situation. His body suggested passion, but his eyes were cold and hard.
“You are the most aggravating woman I’ve ever met,” he said. The muscle in his jaw twitched. “You expect far more self-control from me than any man could have.”
“I’m not asking for your self-control,” I said firmly.
He released my wrists and climbed off me. “You’re not ready for this.”
“I am.”
“You’ve never done it before,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking to the wall across the room.
I swallowed past the tight lump in my throat. “You don’t know that.”
He turned, raising an eyebrow. “Tell me otherwise.”
I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze, and I pressed my lips together, for once unable to conjure a lie.
“That’s what I thought,” he said. “There may be many things I cannot give you, Sophia, but I can give you the time to learn yourself. To be certain—”
“I am certain.”
“—of our future,” he finished.
How could either of us be certain of that? “I’m not asking for any promises. I understand why you can’t—won’t—change, and I’ve decided to accept that.”
“You decide a lot of things.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You allow your mind to silence your heart.”
“What do you want?” I asked, both defeated and determined to figure him out. “You don’t want to be with me, but you don’t want me to leave. You don’t want to grow old with me, but you don’t want me to be with you so long as you’re immortal. Tell me, what is it I’m missing here?”
“You should expect more.”
“You don’t want me to!”
“I do want you to. I may not be able to give you these things, but they are things you should want. They are things I want, too,” he said, his voice tight and his words strained. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You can’t. Your fangs . . . well, only a pure Cruor can turn a human, right?”
Charles climbed off the bed. “It’s not about that.” He walked over to the bedroom window before turning back, his face a marble effigy of contempt. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice with a raw edge. “We’re going to get through this. But I don’t know if I can promise you what you want.”
He returned his gaze to whatever was outside the window, and I watched him in silence from the bed, wondering how the world looked through his eyes.
LATER THAT NIGHT, the spirit lady watched me through the kitchen window while Charles cooked dinner. Her eyes were bleeding.
I never panicked when I saw her anymore. She was as constant as the rising sun—with me wherever I went for the past few months, her figure drawing ever nearer.
“It’s not terrible I’m immortal,” Charles said, glancing away from the grilled cheese he was making on the stove. “For you, I mean.”
I froze. His sentiment came out of nowhere, and I wasn’t sure how to respond.
“No?” I asked.
He stared stonily back. “I can protect you. If you understood the potential dangers—”
“I understand fine,” I said. “And I can protect myself once I figure out how to
tap into my ancestor’s powers.”
“You’re still upset I won’t seek out the Ankou,” he said.
“You have your reasons,” I said, even though he was right.
“The Ankou should be focused on why they are here,” Charles said, engaging in the argument I was trying not to have on the surface. “It’s beyond me how they find time to do these things when they are supposed to be moving the spirits of deceased immortals to the afterlife.”
Moving spirits? That’s what the Ankou did? The revelation panged through my chest, and lungs constricted. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe.
Of all things, this revelation was the one that would shatter my resolve. It meant I wasn’t safe from Charles’ world, not if the spirit following me had anything to do with elementals.
Charles dropped the spatula for the grilled cheese and turned to hold me against his chest. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.
I shook my head. “Charles, there is a spirit following me.”
{sixteen}
“A SPIRIT IS FOLLOWING YOU?” he repeated, the lines across his brow deepening. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
I gave an insignificant shake of my head. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
He arched his eyebrows. Yeah, I sounded crazy.
“Look, where I come from, they exorcise people, so seeing things that other people can’t isn’t exactly something I want to broadcast. I didn’t think it had anything to do with elementals.”
“We still can’t go to the Ankou,” he said firmly.
“Why not?”
“First of all, the most helpful of them are in Brazil, and secondly, I don’t think it’s wise to approach them. There’s no telling how they might respond.”
Defeat settled heavily on my shoulders. “So there’s nothing we can do?”
“Sophia, there is something you must always remember about my world. You cannot count on running or hiding forever. Whatever you do, fight. Always, always fight, until your dying breath. That is your only chance at survival.”
“Until I die? Stop being so morbid!”
“You can’t be passive about this. Morts don’t follow people for the fun of it.”
When Darkness Falls - Six Paranormal Novels in One Boxed Set Page 69