Authors: Cate Dean
“How do you feel?”
Empty, fragile, worn thin. “I’ve been worse.”
He smiled. “Quite the understatement.”
“How is Zach?” She remembered the knife wounds inflicted by Diana, knew he had been burned by the elemental. It wasn’t only the physical injuries that worried her.
“Healing. He has questions for you. It seems he had an unusual experience.”
She closed her eyes. That was a conversation she planned to delay as long as possible.
“And Annie?”
“Tucked up with Eric.” He hesitated, and she looked at him. “The burns left by the elemental—I could heal the physical injury, but I fear they will need longer to recover from the psychic injuries.”
Nodding, she swallowed. “They can leave a nasty aftertaste.” She lowered her gaze to the blanket covering her. “Marcus . . . I died, didn’t I?”
Marcus took her hand, his grip so gentle she wanted to cry. “Yes, sweet.”
“I just—I felt myself slipping away.”
The anguish in his eyes scored her. “I could not keep you here. The spell—”
“Don’t you dare blame yourself. It’s your efforts that kept me here long enough for them to find the counter spell.” She softened her voice, reached for the fist clenched on the bed. “Knowing you were there, it helped me hang on as long as I did.”
“Do you remember anything?”
A smile tugged at her mouth. “Like Hell?”
“I assumed, since you acquired a soul, you would be headed in the opposite direction.”
“I’ve done too much damage in my former life to believe that.” Centuries of damage.
“And more than made up for it in this one.” He let go of her hand and cradled her face, his eyes intent. “Don’t you believe any different.”
When he kissed her she let go, felt herself slide into it. The tenderness surprised her, wrapped around her heart. He deepened the kiss, and she clutched the blanket, her head spinning. His hand slid down, around to the back of her neck, lifting her until she was pressed up against his chest.
“Claire.” He whispered against her lips, that sand rough voice sending a wave of heat through her. “I love you, sweet.” His lips trailed down the side of her throat. “Gods, I thought I lost you.” He wrapped her in his arms, lifted his head to look at her. She wanted to kiss away the pain she knew she put there. “I never felt so helpless.”
“I’ll try not to be stabbed by a knife with a death spell again, just for you.”
His laugh eased some of that pain, just as she intended. “Spending too much time with Annie, again.”
“Her friendship is good for me. It keeps me from taking pretty much everything too seriously.” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t know me before I met her. I was—let’s just say not really social.”
“And you open a retail shop.”
“Stop judging, Jinn, and kiss me.”
He obliged, sinking with her to the bed. Claire was lightheaded, and every muscle shook with the effort, but she didn’t care. This was life, celebrated. And she needed to celebrate. Even with Marcus all but cocooning her, he was still incredibly gentle, as if she’d break with the least bit of weight on her.
She decided to remedy that, and slid both arms around his back, gathering herself for a shift.
“Mom?”
They both froze.
Marcus eased back, looked into her eyes. Biting her lip, she tried not to smile. Hell, she wanted to laugh at the shock and embarrassment battling with each other on his face.
She turned her head, let the smile cross her face. Zach stood in the doorway, his face flushed. Her heart skipped when she saw the crutches. “Hi, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”
“Can I come in?”
“Of course. Marcus and I were just making out.”
“Um—okay.” He swung in, surprisingly adept with the crutches. Marcus all but leapt off her, standing on the opposite side of the bed. Claire didn’t have the heart to tell him that his shirt was unbuttoned to the waist.
Once Zach got close she saw he was as embarrassed as Marcus. “Come here and give me a hug, son of mine.”
Setting the crutches aside, he lowered himself to the bed, and launched himself at her, hugging her so tightly she had trouble breathing.
“I was so scared,” he whispered. She felt his tears on her throat, and pulled him in closer. “I felt you—dying, and I couldn’t do anything . . .”
“Hush, sweetheart.” Claire rocked him, let him vent his fear. Just holding him made her feel stronger. “We’re all safe now.” Once he settled, she eased back, brushed hair off his face. “How are you feeling?”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
“And your leg?”
“It hurts, a little.” He picked at the blanket, and Claire knew he was avoiding. “Marcus said it would take a while, because of the source.”
“The elemental.” He bobbed his head. “Zach, how did you know I was dying?” His shoulders hunched. “Look at me, now. I want to know.”
He obeyed, after a long hesitation. One hand crept up to the amethyst at his throat. “I could—feel your heartbeat.”
She glanced over at Marcus, who looked just as surprised. It seemed her connection to the pendant wasn’t burned out by Zach when he fell.
“Why don’t you stay in here with me tonight, sweetheart? There are two beds, and I’d feel better, having you close by.” That he didn’t even make a token argument told her he was still shaky. “Marcus, can you get some sweats for him?”
He left without a word. Claire knew he wasn’t happy about it.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“No thanks necessary. Are you hungry?”
For the first time a smile crossed his face. “Duh.”
She laughed, hugging him again. Her boy, her son. She had no idea, when she accepted him into her life on that cold October night, that he would change everything. Now she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
“All right, smart mouth—grab the room service menu. I haven’t eaten since—Lord, I don’t remember. We are going to order a feast.”
She pushed herself to her feet, still weak, but determined to start moving around on her own. Zach’s whoop had her heart jumping in her throat.
“What—”
“They’ve got roast beef sandwiches, Mom. Can I order one?”
She clutched the footboard, waited for her heart to settle back in her chest. “They won’t be the caliber of Lily’s.”
“I know—but roast beef. I’ll hold in my disappointment.”
“Zach, my love, you can order whatever your stomach desires.”
*
“
I
’m so sorry, Eric.”
“Stop apologizing.” He tightened his grip on Annie, shifting his left leg until his ankle rested on the pillow again. “It was for a good cause. It was just a ring, blondie.”
“Just a gorgeous ring. Just my focus.” Annie knew she sounded like a spoiled little girl. She didn’t care. “Just the ring you gave me.”
“I’d rather have you. Alive and—mostly whole.” He brushed his fingers over the long white scars on her arm. Marcus healed them, fading the narrow burn on her cheek to almost nothing, but every touch still made fire lick under her skin. It would take time, he said. He didn’t have to feel like an open furnace. “Claire’s going to be fine, and so is Zach. It was a win for us.”
“This time. I know you’re thinking it, so don’t deny.” She sat up, slid out of bed and stepped to the window. Moonlight danced over the water in the harbour, the movement of the low waves soothing. “I thought being thousands of miles from home would mean leaving trouble behind. It’s me, Eric.” She leaned her scarred cheek against the window, the night cold glass a balm on skin that wouldn’t cool. “I’m the trouble.”
“Stop, Annie. Damn it—” She turned around, found him trying to stand. “Come here.”
“I don’t want to—”
“Shut up and get over here.” Surprised by his rude tone, she obeyed. “Sit.” He laid one hand on her cheek, and she sucked in her breath when he laid the other on her stomach. “I love you, both of you. The whole package. I accepted the trouble part of it the moment I knew I wanted to be a permanent part of your life. The ring that saved your life was a symbol. I’ll miss it, but I will always be grateful you had it to throw at the elemental.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” He startled a laugh out of her. “That’s better. Now that we got that out of the way, I am going to say this only once: you put our baby in danger again, and I will lock you in the bedroom and hide the key.”
“Threat received.” With a sigh, she laid her head on his shoulder. “We’re going to have to put the wedding on hold.”
“What?” He pulled away, studied her. “No—oh, no. You’re not getting out of it so easy.”
“Eric—I’m not trying to get out of it. Claire and Zach both need to recover, I need to put what happened in that castle behind me,” she stopped him before he could protest. “And you need to be able to stand upright at our wedding. Which means we have to wait until you recover.”
“Quite a few needs going on there.” This time he stopped her protest. “Let’s do this—let’s sleep on it. We don’t have to make a decision tonight.”
“Fine. It will give you time to see I’m right.”
He grinned at her. “Of course it will.”
“Oh, stop.” Laughing, she climbed on to the bed, watched Eric carefully slide up, flinching. “I thought Marcus took care of that.”
“It was a bad break, Annie. And he came after it started healing. He told me that can hinder his ability.”
“Great excuse. I’ll stop,” she said, hunching her shoulders at his disappointed look. “I’m just feeling—off.”
“It’s called hormones, blondie. You’d better get used to it.”
“Terrific.” She flopped back on the pillow. “Who knows how much disaster
that
will rain on my power.”
Eric lowered himself to the pillow, tucked hair behind her ear. “And we will deal with it. Together.”
“Damn.” She kissed him, brushing her fingers along his jaw, and smiled at the low hum in his throat. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m glad I did it.”
“Stop talking, and show me.”
Her smile widened. “With pleasure.”
*
A
knock on her door had Annie rushing to button her shirt. “Coming, Claire! I’m running a little late. As usual,” she muttered, heading for the door. Two weeks of forced rest and she was ready to climb the walls. The suggestion from Claire to look for a wedding dress had her feeling relieved, and terrified at the same time. Grabbing her purse, she swung the door open. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t keep you . . .”
The purse slipped out of her hand. She stared up into the face of the last person she expected to see.
Simon smiled, amusement clear in the green eyes. “Hello, Annie.”
“I—you came.” She touched his arm. Real. Her brain finally began to work again. “So, did Hell freeze over?”
The smiled wavered. “Not that I know of. But then, I have the ear of the other side.” He ran one hand over his hair. A sure sign of nerves.
Annie needed to sit down. She found the nearest chair, watched Simon come in, closing the door behind him. “And you’re here,” she said, letting the anger that burst through her leak into her voice. “After tossing us out of your life like so much garbage, you come waltzing back, expecting us to—”
“I expect nothing, Annie.” He kept eye contact, and she gave him points for that. “I had time to think after Claire’s visit. And more time, when I arrived here two weeks ago.” She raised her eyebrows. “Yes, you can add that to your list of grievances. Too much time, too much thinking. Once I knew you were all right, I retreated, like a coward. I ran my mind in damn circles, trying to figure out what I already knew.”
The door opened behind him. Claire froze, pain and hope flaring in her blue eyes. It tore at Annie. His fists clenched, Simon closed his eyes briefly, and turned around.
“Hello, Claire.”
“Simon. What are you—”
He moved forward and caught her in a hug, nearly lifting her off her feet. “I missed you, Claire. God help me, I missed all of you.”
After an endless second, she slid her arms around his waist. Annie saw his muscles unclench when she returned his hug, and realized he was scared of rejection. He had every reason to be.
Claire touched his face. “How did you know—”
“Annie called me, asking for help finding Zach.” Tears filled Claire’s eyes. She’d been emotional since her resurrection, especially with anything concerning Zach. Or the baby. Or Annie. Oh, hell—she was weepy about everything, and it was completely freaking Annie. “When you came to see me, it cracked the wall I’d built, the wall I needed to keep myself from hurting every day.”
“I didn’t mean to turn your life upside down.”
“And I never expected to see you standing in my church, and understand you had every right to be there. I was wrong, Claire. And I am sorry for what I put you through because of my stubbornness.”
Holding his hand, Claire turned to Annie. And she knew what was coming. “You called him.”
Okay, that wasn’t what she braced herself for. “I was desperate. He’d understand what I needed without having to explain.” She turned on Simon. “That doesn’t mean I’m even close to forgiving you. And I didn’t invite you to my wedding.”
“Annie.” Claire looked shocked. And once the words were out of her mouth, she felt like the heel in the room. “I thought you missed him as well.”
“I did. Damn it—I’m not going to forgive you just because you flew a few thousand miles and apologized. Stop looking at me like that, Claire. I don’t have your generous heart.”
“Annie—”
“I need time, Simon. Stay, because I won’t ruin what you and Claire have gotten back. But don’t hang around with those sad eyes, expecting me to . . . damn.” Hormones had tears stinging her eyes now.
She turned away, trying to compose herself, and froze when warm hands closed over her shoulders.
“Claire told me about the baby. Congratulations, Annie. You will make a fine mother.” He leaned in, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “And your heart is bigger than you think.”
“Damn you, Simon.” With a sob, she turned around, straight into his arms. And made a fool of herself by crying like an emotional idiot.
Claire rubbed her arm, and she knew whatever stupid thing she said had been forgiven. It only made her cry harder. By the time she came up for air, Simon was sitting with her on the bed, Claire on her other side, holding her hand. She smiled at Annie.