In the Beginning... (15 page)

“Thank the Goddess.” Theo’s words were
filled with the reverence with which he always spoke of his
Goddess. His relief was just as strong as Mickey’s. “When can they
see their cousin? I know they want to.”

The healer shook her blonde
head. “Not tonight, I’m afraid. Both Jocelyn and Cormac need to
rest. Perhaps tomorrow. Aodhan, Theo, take your own
Rajnis
back to your suites
and see that
they
rest, as well. They have been through a physical ordeal of
their own recently. I expected better of you!”

Theo held her close and Mickey let him,
needing his comfort. “Come, Michaela. You heard the healer, you can
do no more now. We will return to our suite.”

She nodded, not resisting when he led her
down the corridor to the Sebastos family wing.

***

She was quiet for the rest of the evening,
though she stayed close to his side. It hurt him, to feel her
sadness, worry. Fear.

The Lupoiux attack cemented his resolve. Had
proven to him that she was far better off as far from the
Dardaptoan world as possible. “As soon as your cousin is recovered,
I will take you to your brother. You will return home then.”

She was quiet for a few moments. “I see.”

Nothing else was said until she stood. “I...I
am going to bed now. Wake me if you hear anything else about
Josey.”

“I will. Good night, Michaela. And once
again, I am sorry for what I have done. I had no right.”

***

He’d had no right?
Was that how he summed up the upheaval he had
caused in her life? As something he could apologize
away?

Did he think by sending her away he would
make everything all right again?

It angered her, and she
could admit that to herself. Once again he was making the
choice
for
her
without considering—or even
asking—
her what she wanted. She jerked
the blanket back, then stripped the tunic over her head. She balled
it up and tossed it toward the now closed bedroom door. It was so
out of place in the pristine room that she sighed and started to
pick it up.

The book tucked in the pocket of the pants
poked her when she bent down. Mickey slowly stood and pulled the
journal free.

As she stared at the gold inlayed on the
spine, she remembered the conversation she’d had with Emily minutes
before the werewolves had attacked.

It wasn’t going to be that easy for him.

Mickey slipped the top back over her head and
slipped the book back into her pocket, determination filling her
more full than it ever had. She grabbed the velvet jewelry bag out
of the nightstand drawer and fastened the necklace inside around
her neck. It belonged there, and she knew it.

It was now or never. She needed answers.

And there was only one man in the world who
could give them to her.

Would his world look as bleak as it felt if
he could only see it? Theo didn’t doubt it. Would the pain of
losing her ever leave him completely? She wasn’t even gone yet and
his soul already bled for her.

He stepped outside onto the balcony, smelling
the flowers from the gardens below. The gardens where her cousin
could have so easily died. What if it had been his Michaela? He
thought about going back inside but decided against it. He couldn’t
be in the suite with her, not without falling to his knees and
begging her to stay.

He wiped a lone tear away. He had been strong
for six hundred years, he could make it through a few more days.
Nothing said he couldn’t keep tabs on her from afar. Just to ensure
she was safe, and happy.

That was his duty as her mate, after all.

He heard the balcony door
open, and he knew it was his
Rajni
.

“Theo.”

He turned toward her. “Michaela.”

“I’m not going.” Her words were strong,
determined, and not for the first time, he wished he could see.
Wished he could read her face.

“You’re not?”

“No. I’m not saying I
believe you. Not about being a destined mate, or a
Rajni
, or whatever you
call it. But I know that I am not ready to leave. I’m not sure if I
will ever be.”

He closed his eyes as a mix of confusion and
elation filled him. “What are you saying, Michaela? That you want
to stay...with me?”

“I don’t know.”

“I need more than that, my dearest little
love.” He kept himself still, forced himself not to cross the
balcony and pull her into his arms. That was all he wanted in the
world. “I need you to tell me what it is you need in order to be
happy.”

“I need to know if what I
read in this book is the truth. And if it was written for me.” Her
footsteps were determined as she crossed to him. She stopped inches
from his position. He could smell the shampoo Haneam made
specifically for members of the Sebastos House mingling with the
essence that was his
Rajni
. The smell was sweeter to him
than all of the gardens below them. Would any woman ever smell
quite as beautiful to him? He doubted it.

It took a moment for her words to settle in
his mind. “Book? What book?”

“I found this on your shelf that first day.
I’ve finally finished it. You wrote it. Starting in the year 1621,
I think the first entry said. I need to know who you wrote it for.”
A small feminine hand wrapped around his wrist. He turned his arm,
so that his palm faced up.

She placed a book in his hand and he wrapped
his fingers around it. “I remember this. It was the first journal I
kept in English. I am not even sure why I chose that language. A
part of me must have known...” “So?”

“Why is this book so important to you? It was
just a journal of my thoughts.”

“Addressed to a woman. A woman that you
obviously loved, even though you’d never met her. I need to know
who that woman was.”

“
Is
. I have never denied that the book
was written for one woman. And we both know that woman is
you.
Tell me, Michaela,
what you want me to do. The choice is yours.”

“I want you to let me learn
to trust you. To learn what this
Rajni
thing means. I told Emily I
thought I loved you, but the rational part of me is saying that’s
crazy.”

“But what does your heart tell you?”

“That this is where I
belong. That this is where I
want
to be. It doesn’t make any sense, not to me. I
know you accept it, but you’ve...”

“Had more than six hundred years to get used
to the idea. I understand that.” Dare he even begin to hope? He
tightened his grip on the book.

She tightened her grip on him. “So this book
is mine?”

“Yes.” What
had
he written in that
tome? What was in that book that had convinced her that their bond
was so real? It had been so long he could not remember. “Why does
it matter so?”

“Because the man who wrote
this journal is one
I
want to know. Are you the same man?”

“I do not know. Much time has passed since I
wrote that. I have filled at least four other journals, since.”

“I would like to read them.
If you don’t mind. You said something in this journal that has
stayed with me. Among other things.
The
moon above me mocks all the love I have for you. I can hear his
cruel, cold words, echoing the beating of mine heart. Were only he
as dark as the pain that fills my soul.
Did
you mean this? And are you sure it was about me?”

Theo brought his other hand up to cover hers
where it rested on his wrist. The words struck on a memory. For a
moment it felt as if his heart stopped beating as remembered pain
filled him. “I meant every word, every line. Six hundred years I
was without you. It was never easy. Only the faith I had in my
Goddess and my family kept me sane. Gave me my strength.”

“I see. I’ve felt the same. The same
loneliness, even with my family around me. I don’t want to feel
that any longer.”

“Perhaps together we will not.” Theo brushed
his fingers against her face, against the soft strands of the red
gold hair he could not see. “Perhaps we should just try, take each
day as it comes. Together.”

“I would like that.”

His heart began beating
again when she stretched up and brushed her lips against his. She
pulled away before he could react. “I want to be the woman in this
journal.
I
want to
be your strength. Will you let me?”

Theo released the book and it thudded to the
balcony. His hands slipped around her waist and he pulled her up
and closer. His lips were more insistent on hers. Her arms wrapped
around his neck and she leaned into him.

He kissed her for several long moments, then
pulled away. “If we do not stop now, my dearest little love, I will
not be stopping this night. Is that what you want?”

“Yes. You will be the first.” She laughed
when he lifted her into his arms, the sound soft and breathless.
And infinitely precious to him.

“And the last.” He carried
her into his suite and closed the balcony door behind them.
“Goddess give me strength, I
will
be the last.”

*****************

LIVE OR DIE

Copyright © 2012

Her hand trailed through the warm water,
stirring the raspberry bath beads in until they foamed. Raspberry
was her favorite smell, tart and tangy and strong. And she liked
her bath water a bit on the hot side. A hot, fragrant bath was what
she needed after the day she’d had, after what she had
discovered—her grandfather was a thief. He’d stolen thousands upon
thousands of dollars from the company he’d created and funneled the
money to some laboratory in the middle of Colorado. He’d stolen
from the family—all her relatives but one worked for the company.
And now the funding for her research was in serious jeopardy.

Her cousin Emily was now CEO of the company,
her cousin Mallory held an MBA in accounting, but she spent most of
her time helping Emily with various things. Mickey, the lawyer, was
pitching in to help them all figure out just what Grandfather had
done, and what was legal and what wasn’t.

It was
her
job as a physician to review
Grandfather’s research to determine what about the lab in Boulder
was so vital that he’d funneled sixteen billion dollars there over
a period of twenty years.

A furry head nudged her hand and Josey rubbed
the silky black and white fur. Free sensed her unease. The Border
collie always did. Her fingers sank into the thick coat and Josey
murmured reassuring words to the dog that she herself couldn’t
hear. The dog made a noise against her hand, a whine Josey felt
rather than heard. What would it be like to hear the sound of a dog
barking again? She thought she remembered what it was like, but
she’d lost ninety-five percent of her hearing at the age of six.
There were so many sounds she’d forgotten.

That was one reason why she felt other
sensations so strongly. Sensations like hot, raspberry-scented
bathwater soaking into her skin. Such things provided her solace on
nights like this one. She felt the thunder as it shook the small
two-bedroom bungalow she shared with her younger sister on the
north edge of her grandfather’s property. They all lived there on
his land somewhere—her, her sister, her cousins, aunts and uncles.
And Josey enjoyed it, though the family tended to be a bit
smothering where she was concerned.

Steam rose from the bath and Josey closed her
eyes as she inhaled. She released the zipper on the trousers she
wore and dropped them to the rug beside the tub. The blouse took
seconds to remove. She dropped it next to the trousers; she’d pick
them up when she was done. Now she just needed to relax and forget
things for a while.

****

Cormac Jareth watched the
woman for several long moments as she soaked in the tub, eyes
closed and head thrown back from his place in the shadows. Despite
her ancestry, despite them being of different species, his body had
reacted quickly to her striptease, to the sight of platinum blonde
hair and a delicate feminine body. She was average for a human
woman, but still short for his Kind. Her curves were smaller than
he normally preferred, but her breasts looked sweet. Her ass was
just rounded enough to say
female
. Her hair was completely
straight and long, but she’d pulled it up off her neck before
sinking into the water.

He’d never envied water before, but this
sweet-smelling bath got to touch her everywhere.

It was almost a pity he’d come to kidnap her.
To take her back with him and kill her. He would far rather take
the time to savor this little human morsel. He'd put good money
down that she was as sweet as she looked. Pity. He smiled as he
stepped from the shadows and spoke. “Hello, little one. Pity I
cannot join you in that tub.”

He expected a scream, a rush to cover herself
with a towel. Even demands to know who he was and what he
wanted.

He got nothing. He’d taken easy control of
the canine in the corner. The small dog sat watching him with a
glazed, if unworried, expression. It was an ability he’d held for
nearly six hundred years—the capturing of creatures’ minds—and he
did so effortlessly. He tried speaking again. “Ignoring me will not
make me leave you be. I am taking you with me. Then we shall feast
together.”