In The Dark

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In The Dark Page 13

by Sarah K. Jensen


  She looked shy as she stared down at her feet. “I’d like to one day have children to fill this home, but…” she trailed off, not looking at him.

  He stiffened. She wanted kids, that he got, but it didn’t sound like she was too concerned about who the husband would be.

  “But you need someone to help you along and you figure, why not the lawyer?” Bryson asked with an edge to his voice.

  Alannah’s head jerked up and she turned red, fury burning in those mocha eyes. “Okay, let’s get this out in the open right now. My grandfather is Born Elk. I am a Guardian.”

  At his dropped jaw, she smirked, “Yep, that’s right, Mr. Lawyer, I fight the Night Shadows, same as you. I have the same restrictions you have as far as physical relationships go, so in order for me to have children, I have to have a husband, and I’d prefer one who knows about the life I live. I am twenty-eight years old, and I would like to one day have a family, but I’m not going to settle for just any man, I want my soulmate.”

  Well, okay. She’d told him. And he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Bryson reached out to take her hand, but she slapped it out of the away.

  When she went on, there wasn’t as much heat, “I bought this house to work on it in my spare time, hoping that God wouldn’t make me wait until I was too old to have children before He led me to the man I’d marry. I figured if this house was ready, maybe the man would want to live here with me, but if not, it shouldn’t be too difficult to sell, with all the work I’ve done.”

  “May I apologize now?” Bryson asked, more subdued than he felt. His heart was hammering a fast tattoo in his chest and he knew, just knew, that she was the woman for him. She’d be the mother of his children. But first, he had to get to know her a little better and figure out how to ask. Of course, she wouldn’t have brought up marriage and children if she weren’t thinking he might be her soulmate, would she?

  She looked at him expectantly.

  Oh, yeah. He was supposed to apologize. “Sorry. I guess we’re both a little uneasy about whatever is going on between us.”

  Alannah turned, busying herself making coffee in a sleek, new Keurig one-cup-at-a-time coffeemaker. “Do you want sugar or milk?” she asked instead of answering his apology attempt.

  Okay, so maybe she brought up children with every man she dated just to see if they’d take off first thing out of the gate. Maybe that was her way of weeding out the non-contenders. And maybe he’d just blown it big time. Well, if she wanted to act as if nothing had happened, he could do that. “No. Just black,” he said.

  She didn’t move, she just stood there, her head bent as if in prayer. When he touched her shoulder, she tensed, but still, she didn’t say anything. He moved in front of her and saw a tear drip from the end of her nose.

  “Awe, crap. Come here,” he said, almost desperately, pulling her into him. When he lifted her chin with his large hand, she closed her eyes.

  “Shhh.” He didn’t do well with tears, something his two youngest sisters had used against him often over the years. Bryson pulled her closer and stroked her back. Her scent, as airy as the place she lived, soaked into his soul, found a home there and made him want. Not thinking past the moment, he raised her chin, lowered his mouth to hers, and drank from her lips.

  It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Lights swirled, every color of the rainbow, and his past played out before his eyes. Every fault, every joy, every pain. Every mistake. And as soon as the scenes played out, he saw Alannah’s life displayed in the same way.

  As a child, she was stringy, all arms and legs, but beautiful just the same. She loved her family outrageously, her friends the same way. She never drank, never smoked. In her twenty-eight years, she had kissed three men, and none of those kisses were anywhere near inappropriate.

  She was embarrassed that she was so attracted to him and already thinking about marriage and babies. She knew she was moving too fast but couldn’t seem to help herself. And with that knowledge, he soared.

  But just for a second. Because, besides loneliness, pain, and heartache, she’d lived pretty much a perfect life, and Bryson was more ashamed of his past than he’d ever been before.

  The kiss continued, though he wanted to end it. Wanted to run from her. With that thought, he felt her fear that he would do just that. Suddenly, he didn’t like one bit that he could feel her thoughts because he knew that meant she could hear and see him, the same way he’d seen into her past and present.

  When he was finally able to end the kiss, he did, turning his face from her in the process. The coffee was done, at least one cup, and she sat it to the side, and unplugged the machine. Then Alannah sank to the floor and cried.

  Bryson didn’t know what to do. He stood there, looking at her, scared out of his mind.

  “You. Don’t. Want. Me,” she said between sobs and hiccups.

  He dropped to his haunches and tried to pry her hands off her face, to no avail. “How can you think that?” he asked, dumbfounded. He had been pretty sure she’d asked him to leave and never come back after what she’d just witnessed.

  “You. Want. To. Run. A. Way.”

  A laugh burst out; he couldn’t help it. He had, but not for the reasons she seemed to think.

  “Alannah.” He tried to move her hands again, but she shook her head, so he just sat on the floor beside her, slipping his arm around her, pulling her closer. “You saw my life, didn’t you?”

  She nodded. Hiccupped.

  “Honey,” he whispered. “I want you. I’m embarrassed. Ashamed. I want to say I was young when I…” He cleared his throat, not wanting to talk about the woman he’d slept with. “When I was with Becky...” Heavens, this was hard. He tried to clear his throat again. “It didn’t mean anything.” Could he sound anymore cliché?

  Tears still fell down her face when she finally looked at him. “I know that. I saw your pain from it.” Swiping her face with the back of her hand, she smeared dark tear stains across her cheek, making him love her at that moment. “I won’t lie and say it doesn’t bother me, but that’s not what hurts so bad.”

  The sense of relief was overwhelming. Still, he had to know, “Then why are you crying?”

  She sighed, rested her head on her drawn-up knees, and whimpered, “Because you’d rather run away than try with me. You don’t even want to give us a chance. You think I’ve lived some perfect life, that because loneliness seemed to be my only flaw, you didn’t want to give me a try.”

  He just stared at her. Was that how she saw his thought pattern? Sure, he’d wanted to run after knowing that the worst she’d ever done was fight with her siblings or back-talk her parents. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to love her if she’d have him.

  Bryson took her small, cold hands into his two big ones, and rubbed gently, warming them. “I didn’t think you’d want me. I wanted to run because I was scared of how you’d react. You’re so much better than I am.”

  Alannah sighed, hiccupped, and settled her head on his shoulder. “Not better. Just made different mistakes. You’ve been forgiven by God, so it’s easy enough for me to do the same. Besides, while you seemed to be focusing on the bad stuff, I was seeing all the strength, goodness, kindness in you. I was seeing your loyalty, the love of your family, the way you long for justice in life. You will be an easy man for me to love and spend my life with. If you’ll have me, that is.”

  His mouth felt carved out of wood. Wouldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. There was so much he wanted to say at that moment, but he couldn’t get anything out.

  She glanced at him, then lowered her eyes. “If not, then just let me know now, so I can try and get over you.”

  “Don’t,” Bryson said. “Don’t get over me.” He sounded stupid. Swallowed. “I mean, I want you. I want to marry you. Spend the rest of my life loving you.”

  The smile that lit her face seemed to make her glow like the angel she was. “How soon can we get married?”

 
As if the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders, Bryson laughed, almost giddy. “As soon as we get a license and call all our family. How long do you need?”

  “How’s a week from Saturday?” Alannah asked, then turning shy, whispered, “We only met earlier tonight. People are going to think we’re crazy if we get married in a little less than two weeks.”

  Bryson realized how true that was. Though most of their family was sure to understand. Still, he didn’t want any regrets from her. “If you would rather wait, not tell anyone yet, we can keep it to ourselves for a while, though I don’t think we should wait too long.”

  Because he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in life, and he was dying to make love with her as husband and wife.

  “I don’t want to wait.” She smiled, pushed herself off the floor, and extended her hand to him. “But I think you should go home before we get ourselves into trouble, because, I don’t know about you, but knowing my large bed is just down the hall….”

  Alannah laughed when he just sat there with his mouth hanging open. He took her hand, let her help pull him up, and took a step away from her when all he wanted was to take her in his arms and kiss her again.

  She shook her head.

  “Nope. We’ll get into trouble. I know it. Go home. Call me tomorrow.”

  She opened a drawer, grabbed a notepad and pen, and scribbled her phone numbers on it. “I work until one-ish. I’m thinking maybe we can meet up around two, get a license, and go tell our families. I’d like us to tell them together. You know, make the rounds. And you can meet my parents and my two brothers who live around here night after tomorrow if that’s good?”

  She stopped, stared at him for a long moment, and then squared her shoulders. “You know about Gabe’s attacks against me, but he’s been clean for a while, has a new wife and a baby on the way. Please don’t act stupid when you meet him.”

  Bryson did know the pain Gabriel Begay had caused Alannah over the years. Her twin. He’d seen the attacks through her loving eyes, and even though he’d been too focused on his own shortcomings during that awful/amazing kiss, all the scenes played back in his head now.

  How he’d slapped and punched his sister, and how, when she’d been on the floor, his hand with long nails dripping with Demon poison had sliced through her, scaring her. He’d also seen as Gabe had broken down years later and asked for forgiveness. Still, he shuddered at the thought of her pain.

  “I’ll be okay by then,” he promised. “It might take me a while before I like the man, but I won’t hit him, no matter how much I may want to.”

  Alannah smiled, brushed his cheek with the back of her hand. “I’ll take that. But you’ll love him as I do. Now that he’s sober again, he’s a different man. The brother I’ve always loved. Besides the fact that he’ll be posturing, trying to intimidate you, he’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

  Bryson tried again to pull her into his arms, but she moved out of his reach and shook her head. “Good night, Mr. Craig. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Somewhat deflated, but at the same time on top of the world, Bryson nodded. “I love you.”

  Tears sprung up in her eyes. “I love you too.”

  Without touching her again, Bryson walked out of her house and into a world that looked much brighter, even in the dark of night.

  Laif sank into the soft, black leather seat of his Audi TT Coupe. He’d spent the last four hours or so chasing down, and sending back to Hell, twelve Oíche Scáthanna.

  He’d gone through all the white sand he had and should be flying high. He wasn’t. He was mad. And hurt. But mad felt better than hurt, so he focused on that. And to add insult to injury, he missed Memphis so much he thought for sure his heart would break if he didn’t see her soon.

  His ringing phone was almost a relief. He reached into the passenger seat and snatched it up. Paulina Winthrop. What was she doing calling him in the middle of the night? Granted, it was probably mid-morning in Paris or Tuscany, or wherever she was right now, but still. She had to know what time it was in Texas, so why was she calling? Could it possibly be important?

  He doubted it.

  Nothing was ever truly important when it came to Paulina. At least not in his opinion. She, on the other hand, thought if she chipped a nail or had split ends it was vital everyone knew her pain. She was one of the shallowest people he knew. Why he’d dated her off and on for the past, what, seventeen years or so, was beyond him.

  At first, he’d been her boyfriend because at thirteen she’d threatened to beat him up if he didn’t kiss her. He could face Night Shadows, but the tall, very pretty blonde scared the bejessers out of him.

  He’d discovered that he greatly enjoyed kissing and even though they’d only “gone out” for a few months that first time, he’d always gone back to her between breakups with other girls. They’d dated most of their senior year in high school and all of his freshman year at the University of Texas, then they broke up and he moved to Boston to attend Harvard. He’d never been in love with her, even though he’d told her he loved her many times in the early years.

  Maybe, at least probably in her mind, they were sort of currently dating. They’d gone out publicly to two black-tie affairs during the spring before she’d left for a summer in Europe. She was due back sometime in the next few weeks, and he knew he should talk to her, but he had no desire whatsoever to speak with her now.

  Truthfully, he never wanted to talk to her again. How long could he put her off? Maybe a couple more weeks. He should probably tell her that they wouldn’t date anymore in person and not over the phone. He doubted she’d like to hear that the man she claimed to love had found his soulmate.

  He needed to see Memphis.

  Ignoring his phone, he started the car. Would Memphis be awake? Would she want to see him? Did it matter? Because, at the moment, if he didn’t see her—touch her—he’d go crazy. He slammed the car into drive and headed back to her.

  Once inside the hospital, he moved down the dim-lit halls at almost a jog. He didn’t like what it said about him that he couldn’t stand being away from Memphis for more than a few hours. Few hours? Man, he’d ached as soon as he’d left her side. Memphis had the power to destroy him and had unquestionably hurt him tonight.

  Outside Memphis’s door, Laif laid his hand on his Dad’s shoulder. Regan smiled up at his son.

  “She’s doing fine,” he said. “But she doesn’t seem able to sleep. Your mom offered to give her something, but she didn’t want it, said it gave her nightmares. She just asked to be left alone, but she did want to know if we thought you’d come back tonight. She was really upset after you left.”

  Regan stood. “Son, she is scared half to death. You can’t just make demands on her without talking things through. She’s a grown woman and needs to feel in control of her life. Suddenly, she’s had her world spin on its axis and you playing dictator won’t help.”

  “I know, Dad. I’m gonna talk to her. I’ll make it okay.”

  “Good. Then I’m going to wake your mother and take her home.”

  Laif rubbed his face with both hands and tried to smile. “Thanks for watching her.”

  “She’s a good lass. Try not to drive the both of you crazy by being overprotective.”

  Laif didn’t answer. He’d like to think he was smart enough to not act like some caveman, but his record with her to date wasn’t very impressive.

  The small light above the sink was on in her room, and he inched his way inside and softly closed the door. Huge green eyes looked up at him and her sigh filled the room.

  “I can’t sleep without you here,” she whispered. Laif could see tears glistening in her eyes and he thought the confession had to have been hard for her. “It scares me that I need you beside me even to drift off. I don’t want any more meds. What am I supposed to do?”

  She feared what was between them. Laif understood that feeling well. Without a word, he walked to the side of the bed and kicked off h
is shoes. After unbuttoning his shirt, he took it off and draped it across the chair. As he settled in beside her, Memphis snuggled up to his side and sighed again. He took her hand, lacing their fingers together.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Bringing their joint hands to his mouth, he placed a soft kiss on her wrist. “Me too.”

  “I don’t sleep with men I don’t know.” Her voice cracked a little and he felt her cringe.

  He wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, did she sleep with men she did know? Was she sleeping with Callan? Had she found a way to be with men and still fight Night Shadows?

  “But for some reason, waking up with you here this morning, I felt safe. I’ve just laid here the last couple of hours and wondered about where you’d gone. If you were safe. I hated that you were so mad at me when you left. I’m so confused.”

  He felt the tremble in her body, heard the slight sob. This was just as hard on her as it was on him. Maybe harder. “Don’t cry. I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to take over.”

  “But you are.”

  Laif rose on his elbow to see her face. She looked up at him with a swarm of emotions brimming in her eyes. He couldn’t pick out any particular one but thought maybe he saw something similar to caring there. He wanted to see love in her eyes.

  Something primal in him wanted her to love him right now. To want him, and only him. Whatever else it was he felt, he needed her, and refused to let her go. The first time he’d touched her, it had been like a punch to the gut. He’d felt the jolt to his system the same as if he’d been hit by lightning. It demanded him to make her his. Nothing was stronger than the desire to have her belong to him. To have her love him. Except for his need to protect her. To take care of her.

 

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