Eternal Hearts (20 page)

Tears welled in her eyes as Clint gently stroked her hair. This was familiar. This was what she’d searched for in over a hundred other cities but couldn’t find…

This was home.

Clint had always been like a father to her. He was the only older member of her lineage who’d ever taken the time to talk to her. And because of him, she knew Thug was the Fledgling slur for her lineage. He was the one who’d taught her to take pride in knowing they were referred to as Warriors by any vampire over fifty years old. He was the one who’d helped her understand the new world she’d been thrust into, even when Alexander was too busy to make time for her.

All at once, the wave of emotions Toni had tried so hard to control rushed past her lips as a sob. But Clint didn’t ask what was wrong; he just cradled her head against his shoulder and held her even tighter.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered. “So much…” She trailed off as she closed her eyes and tried to remember everything 8-Ball had told her about the days after she’d been exiled.

According to him, Clint had stormed into Christian’s office after hearing the news and demanded she be allowed to come back. They’d yelled back and forth at each other for hours while he tried to make Christian understand the kind of power anger had over the new blood in her body. But Christian wouldn’t hear it. To him, her age was no excuse for her actions.

Clint alone had taken care of, and paid for, the arrangements to lay her family to rest peacefully. He’d stood at the graves on her behalf while Jacob performed the ceremony to send them on their journey to God.

8-Ball said it was the first time he’d ever seen an Ancient cry. And later, when he’d finally worked up the nerve to ask why, apparently Clint had said it was never easy to bury a family. And no matter how many times he’d done it, it never got any easier. He said his tears were just as much for her as they were her family, because Christian wouldn’t let her back into the city for their funeral.

Another round of tears broke loose as Toni recalled just how many times Clint had tried to contact her over the years. Each time they talked, she’d end up crying as she tried to tell him how much she missed him and her family. And every single time he’d offer to leave and go to her, she’d get angry and tell him that if he left everything he’d worked so hard to gain in the city, she’d never ever talk to him again.

Of course, she never meant a word of it. But her heart broke all over again every time she heard his voice. It hurt so much whenever she saw his number come across the screen on her cell phone, eventually she just stopped looking at it.

Toni tightened her arms around Clint and tried once more to hold the tears back, but again she failed miserably. She knew she’d missed this city, but only now did she realize she’d missed the people in it even more.

She barely heard the chimes when the front doors opened. Having completely blocked out the rest of the world, Toni held onto Clint with everything she had.

Drake cast Clint a questioning look when he glanced up at the sound of the door chimes. He hoped this hadn’t been a bad idea, but when he saw the glimmer of tears in the Ancient Warrior’s eyes, he took it as a hint to just give them a few minutes.

He nodded at Jacob then made his way towards the owner and proprietor of Grey’s, who stood in his rightful place behind the counter. He rested his elbows on the black and white marbled countertop and smiled. “Mr. Martin Grey, how
do
you
do
?”

Martin slid a small cup across the counter. “Your usual, Sir.”

Drake stared down at his delicious triple espresso. “You always know how to make me smile, Martin. Sometimes I wish you were a woman so I could show my appreciation for your coffee making talents properly.”

Martin let out a deep chuckle. “Thanks…I think.”

Drake picked up his espresso, took a sip, and then happily groaned. There was nothing quite like having a triple coffee orgasm when you really needed one. But his revelry was short lived when the tortured sound of Toni’s sobs cut through him like a razor sharp blade.

He focused on her and Clint when Martin moved to retrieve the ringing phone. Listening to her cry practically killed him, but he was happy she’d found some sort of comfort in Clint’s arms. He could sense the intense love radiating from the two of them, but didn’t know what it was like to actually
feel
that particular emotion anymore. He preferred humor over emotion anyway.

Humor, much like Odin, was never complicated.

Drake turned his thoughts back to his coffee and stared down into the rich brown liquid. He absently smiled at it. The color reminded him of Toni’s eyes.

Oh, stop gushing over her.
Drake rolled his eyes. He had to be the only supernatural creature alive whose inner voice had mastered sarcasm. So what? He liked the woman. Was he not allowed to like women now?

You can like all the women you want. You’re just not allowed to like her.
Drake shook his head, hoping instinct, right or wrong, would just fall out and die on the floor next to his boots.

But when it didn’t, he chose instead to shut it out. Yes, he had a contract on Toni. But right now he wished he didn’t, because then he wouldn’t have to keep suppressing the urge to touch her. Not that he was succeeding anyway. And obviously the conversation he’d had with himself about his enemies less than ten minutes ago didn’t seem to be sticking either.

He wanted to touch Toni, but he wanted to know her even more. And really, that was what shocked him the most. For years he hadn’t been interested in knowing anything about anyone he came into contact with, especially female vampires. And although he’d already thought it a good ten times since he’d met her, he just couldn’t ignore the fact that she wasn’t like any other vampiress he’d met. She wasn’t so deep into politics or her own agenda that she didn’t have time to talk to him. She wasn’t so concerned with what everyone else thought that she wouldn’t be seen with him. Hell, she didn’t seem to know who or what he was, and that made the whole situation even better.

Toni’s gentle laugh broke Drake’s mental rant at his coffee. He looked up just in time to see Clint wipe her tears away and brush a kiss across her lips.

Drake tensed as the green eyed monster stomped down on every nerve in his body. He didn’t know her that well, but some foreign part of him wanted to be the one she went to when she was sad. Watching the way she smiled and nuzzled into Clint’s chest actually made his own chest ache. And although pain was something Drake was more than accustomed to, the emotional kind was always the hardest to bear.

Toni smiled up at Clint as he wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks. “I really did miss you. I can’t even explain how much…” She trailed off when her voice cracked, because she didn’t want to start crying yet again.

He pressed a warm kiss to her forehead. “I missed you, too.”

She laughed when Jacob shoved Clint out of the way then moved to stand in front of her. “My turn,” he whispered. His smooth, soothing voice made her shiver as he scooped her up into his arms. His hug wasn’t nearly as long as Clint’s, but she loved it all the same. After returning her to her feet, he kissed her cheek then smiled at her.

Toni returned the gesture as she inhaled a deep breath, then took a step back and tried to pull her frayed emotions back together. She knew seeing Clint again would be hard, but she hadn’t expected to lose control of herself like she had.

Over the span of a few minutes and a lot of deep breathing, she finally regained her composure. But maintaining that composure grew a bit more difficult as she cast a glance over the room and realized nothing about Grey’s had changed. The black and white checkered floor still shined. The vibrant orange and cobalt blue chairs, tables, and couches were still in the exact same places they had always been. Even the pristine white walls were still adorned with the same posters and paintings that not only depicted the look of Jazz, but the smoky, soulful feel of it as well. Really, the only thing missing was one of the greats like B.B. King playing on the small stage in the back corner of the adjoining room.

Toni shook her head. It was almost as if the moment she’d left Chicago three years ago, someone had hit the pause button on Grey’s and hadn’t pushed play until she’d walked back in.

She looked back up at Jacob, but the “paused” feeling held strong because much like Clint – he hadn’t changed either. They made for such an odd couple, always sitting across from each other, as if to symbolize they would always be on opposite sides. And they couldn’t have been more different if they’d actually tried.

Clint’s short black hair was styled in a messy spike, while Jacob’s head was always bald and beautiful. Jacob’s eyes were a vibrant, almost electric blue, and Clint’s were a rich, dark green. Clint’s perpetual five o’clock shadow gave his face a rugged appearance because of the way it stood out against his swarthy skin, but Jacob was always clean shaven.

Even their clothing clashed. Dressed in a wrinkled white button down with only the three middle buttons fastened and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Clint’s khaki cargo pants were slung so low on his hips that his tight abs showed between his waistband and the bottom of his open shirt. And at the other end of the spectrum there was Jacob, with his long sleeved black dress shirt buttoned almost all the way up to the collar, tucked into a pair of perfectly pressed and belted black slacks, he didn’t exactly give off the same college vibe that Clint did.

The only real commonalities between the two were their height, which was roughly six and a half feet, and the fact that they were both absolutely gorgeous – but for very different reasons.

Clint’s features were sexy and playful, but you knew he could be commanding if he wanted to be. And Jacob, well…Jacob had the face she was sure God had used as the final mold to create every male angel she’d ever seen depicted in a book. Plainly put, angelic was the only way she’d ever been able to describe him. And although his build was thinner than Clint’s, he had a dangerous edge that Clint just didn’t have.

She smiled as she stared between the two. She’d missed them both so much. She’d missed hearing them pick at each other. She’d even missed listening to them argue about subjects she didn’t even understand, like politics and science or business and government. And she really had to like someone to listen to them prattle on for hours about campaign strategies or atom colliders.

Toni’s thoughts scattered when Jacob gently pushed her towards Clint’s couch. “Why don’t you sit down with Clint while I go get you some coffee?”

She nodded in response to his suggestion then sat down next to Clint and pulled his arm around her shoulders.

Now she had almost everything she’d been missing.

When Martin returned to the counter with an evil grin draped across his face, Drake raised an arm and sniffed at his armpit. “What? Do I smell or something?”

“No,” Martin laughed. “That was Murdoch on the phone. Apparently he’s got some fascinating information and talked Lord Locke into calling an emergency meeting of the Elder Council. I was wondering what you did?”

Drake forced a smile. He knew Martin was only teasing, but to be honest – he hated it. Every time something went wrong while he was in the city, all eyes landed on him. He didn’t kill other supernatural creatures because he gained some sick satisfaction from it. He did it because that’s what he’d been born and bred to do.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear,” Drake said, attempting to make light of the situation. “Damn, you kill a few people here and there and suddenly everyone thinks you’re a trouble maker.”

Drake straightened, and noted Martin did the same when Jacob approached the counter.

“I need a
special
for Toni, please,” Jacob said.

Drake bit at the inside of his lips instead of laughing like he wanted to. A
special
coffee was one Martin blended with blood so that any vampire who hadn’t mastered the talent of drinking could still enjoy the finest coffee in the world.

If he remembered correctly, Clint and Martin had acquired the skill long ago, and so well that they could even eat real food. Of course, it wasn’t pretty later when they regurgitated whatever they’d consumed, since their immortal bodies couldn’t process anything but blood.