by Kate Martin
“I’m a realist. Side effect of being raised as a Hunter.”
I pocketed the ring, safely back inside its cloth bag. “Which I was not. I feel you gearing up to ask me to reconsider again, but I won’t. I have enough to deal with.”
“Don’t hate me if I drop by from time to time, just to double check.”
“Free country.”
“For now.”
“For now,” I conceded. Who knew what the future would hold. “I really should be getting back.”
“Sure. Just—one last thing.”
“It’s always one last thing with you.”
“This is really the last thing. I promise.”
“Well, what is it? Because you’re really starting to wear on my ner—”
His lips were on mine, one hand at my lower back, the other on my cheek. He kissed me with an urgency, as if he knew he had only moments before my brain caught up and I pushed him away. But the softness of his lips surprised me, as did the gentle feel of his hand at my back, and he broke the kiss before I could even finish processing what had happened.
Solo winked at me, then began walking away. “See ya around, Kass.” He called for his dog to follow.
Finally my brain snapped back into gear. “I didn’t give you permission to kiss me!” I yelled after him.
Solo’s laughter filled the otherwise quiet street. “Not in this life, maybe, but previously.”
“New lives, new rules! Each life is a do-over, a fresh start. You need permission!”
He continued walking away, Buddy at his side, the dog’s tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. “Always wanted to be a thief. I think this is a good start.”
“Arg! I hate you!”
“No, you don’t.” Solo disappeared around the next corner, and in a matter of moments, his scent dissipated as well.
Ass.
Thankfully, I made it home with no further interruptions.
Two steps inside the door, however . . .
“Kassandra!”
“Hi, Millie,” I said as she swept down the stairs, her arms overflowing with bolts of fabric. Ever since she had Brody had started planning their wedding she’d been nothing but smiles, calendars, and impossible to keep up with energy. At least she was happy. Her smile nearly erased the scar that now cut across her face.
She skipped the last three steps, immediately draping one of the fabrics over my shoulder and arranging my hair so it fell over the bright cobalt blue. “Hmm . . . yes, this one might work.”
“What are you doing?”
Her blonde hair bobbed as she dropped the first color and picked up a second. This one deep purple. “Picking fabric for the bridesmaids.”
“Aren’t you just going to go with whatever Madge wants?” The purple fabric was quickly exchanged for a pink. “I mean, I’ll wear whatever you want, but I’m sure Madge will have a fairly stubborn opinion on the matter.”
“She will. But it’s my wedding.”
“Good luck to you, then.”
“I like the blue best. What do you think?”
“Blue works for me.”
Millie nodded, muttering a few things that were clearly not meant for anyone but herself. Mental notes, I assumed.
“Have you seen Rhys?” I asked as she gathered up her armful once more.
“I believe he went out back, to get some fresh air.”
“Thanks.” I headed off in that direction. Millie had already forgotten about me, calling through the house for her sister, who responded with an equally shrill response.
At least some things had returned to normal.
The back door opened just as it came into sight, and Olivia stepped inside, the sunlight spilling around her, making her look like some sort of mystical creature.
Too bad I knew the truth.
She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder, her right hand busy wrapping her left wrist with a clean bandage. “Hello, Kassandra.”
God, her voice just dripped smugness. I said hello back only so I couldn’t be accused of being a bitch later. Otherwise, I was just going to practice saying nothing when I had nothing nice to say in return. Life would be easier that way. Maybe. Maybe one of these days I would snap, and forget that I had a policy against biting and killing people. Maybe.
I stepped out into the back porch, still dressed for the autumn chill, but I unwound my scarf and set it aside, slipped off my jacket. I didn’t need them, and I wanted so little to be between us in the coming moments. I’d had enough of space and bars and wardens between us lately.
Rhys stood in the yard, his back to me, his head tilted back slightly, like a flower seeking the sun. His eyes were closed, his hands at his sides, and he was breathing steadily, making him look so very alive. Sure I made enough sound as I approached—not all his senses were quite back to normal yet—I glided my hands around his waist, tucking my fingers under his shirt to feel the hard planes of his stomach as I set my head between his shoulder blades. His chest rose with my touch and he lifted an arm to cover mine, moving as though coming awake.
“How’s Sara?” he asked, weaving his fingers with mine.
“Good. The same, really. Not afraid of me, which is all I really want.”
“I told you she’d come around.”
“Yes, yes, you’re very smart.” I placed a kiss at the base of his neck. “How about you?” He was warm, which was to be expected, after feeding. He was warm most of the time now, feeding far more regularly while we waited for everything to heal.
“Better every day.” It was the same answer he always gave me. I knew the slow recovery drove him mad, but I didn’t care how long it took, just so long as I had him back.
He lifted his left arm, intending to wrap it around me and switch our position, but his shoulder hitched at the last second, and he had to put it down again. “Dammit,” he swore, then swore further in his first language when the pain didn’t recede right away.
I slipped around him, placing us face to face as he had wanted, and gently rubbed the thoroughly abused joint. I didn’t remind him that he was supposed to be careful. Cade had been forced to re-reattach the arm after we arrived back home. Apparently Rhys and I hadn’t done a very good job the first time. Instead, I kissed it. To make it all better.
“I guess I should just be happy to have an arm,” Rhys said. “Even if it doesn’t work right.”
“You’re in too much of a hurry. Cade, the General, Aurelia, they all say it will heal just fine. In time.”
That little line appeared just above his brow. I realized I’d missed it. “Wasted time,” he said.
“Not really.” Stretching up on my toes, I kissed him. “You don’t need to be able to lift your arm over your head to do that. Or this.” I brushed my lips against his jaw, then kissed him again.
My distraction successful, he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me against him and taking some of the strain off my toes. I threw both arms around his neck. “That is true,” he said. “Of course, there are other things that two arms are good for.”
Oh really? Well, then. “I have two arms. I’ve got you covered.”
He traced the line along the very edge of my jaw where the vampire I had killed had pressed my own dagger against my face. “It will take some getting used to. Knowing you can take care of yourself.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“A very good thing, but still something that will threaten to shatter my nerves for years to come, I suspect.”
Those blue eyes of his always said so much more than any words he uttered. He’d watched so many of my lives, and none of them had been long, or safe. I remembered being human, being breakable. Now, I knew I could stand up to his world. I could do this. For him, I could be strong, and alive. “We’ll go hunting together,” I said. “You can see me in action. It will put you at ease. Maybe I’ll even save you a time or two.”
“You already have.”
“True. I forget how awesome I am. It’s kinda new.�
�� Kassandra, the capable and ninja-like vampire who could—if she needed to—rip the hearts from her enemies. Honestly, I was beginning to be okay with that.
Rhys laughed, and the sound was so warm, so musical, that I could have stood there listening to it all day. Laughter from him was so rare. Too rare. I wanted to fix that.
“Hey, Rhys, I want to ask you something.”
“Anything.”
He had so many new scars. They rose beneath my fingers as I ran my hands over the back of his neck, his shoulders. I could even feel them through his shirt. The dark circles were gone from beneath his eyes, but he still looked tired. He had spent so many lifetimes protecting me. It was my turn to return the favor. “What would you say if I asked you to run away with me? Not forever,” I added, silencing his initial protest with my fingers over his lips, “just for a little while. Some time for ourselves. Some time for both of us to rest. Everything is about to get ten times crazier, and—”
He kissed me. Uninhibited, without any holding back. I pulled him closer, grabbing hold of whatever my hands could find, his shirt, his hair, his belt loops. It had been days since we had rescued him from Infragilis, but for the first time I felt like I really had him back. There was strength in his body again, and life in the way he moved, in the way his hands wrapped around my waist, my hips. He kissed my mouth, my throat, my collarbones, and my mouth once again. My fangs had come out, and so had his, and I tasted sweet blood. I swore something right then and there: I would never let him be alone again. As I kissed him I remember the light rain of an Irish summer, the bleat of sheep and jangle of bells around their throats. I could smell the pavement and hear the hooves of horses pulling carriages. I seemed to wear skirts and petticoats and jeans all at once. I remembered kissing him in Ireland, and in New York, and here in my backyard.
My heart gave a thump in my chest, and beneath my hand his beat in return
Kate Martin
Kate Martin is an adjunct professor by day, a dance teacher by night, and a writer every minute in between. Growing up on the side of a Connecticut mountain in the middle of nowhere wasn’t much good for afterschool shenanigans with friends, but it was spectacular for building an over-active imagination. After getting her B.A. in Elementary Education, with a minor in Psychology, she found Seton Hill University’s Writing Popular Fiction Program, graduating with her M.F.A. in June ’13. You can visit her website at www.kate-martin.com.
The Eternal Shadows Series
Eternal Shadows
Darkest Whispers