Stay (11 page)

She looked up. “What if I want him any way I can get him?”

Cass squeezed her hands. “Well, I guess that’s your task, to figure out how to live your life no matter what he decides.”

Stay

ucas had time to think on the drive back to Nebraska, a hell of a lot more time than he wanted. All he could think about was leaving Syd behind. Every twenty miles he had to fight the urge to turn the truck around and race back to her.

Sydney Blake.

I fell from the sky for you, Sydney Blake.

Oh, he remembered saying those words all right. He knew to the depths of his immortal soul what he’d given up to come to her, but more than that, he knew what he’d sacrificed to save Cass Weber. He’d found the love of his life and lost her, only to find her all over again. And none of it made a lick of sense, except maybe the archangel’s warped sense of humor in sending him back as an infant.

Those were Wolf’s thoughts and memories, not his.

But they were his too.

How the hell was he going to co-exist with Wolf? How would he live with eons of memories? Not the memories of one lifetime, not the memories of two, but ages and ages stretching into infinity.

It was enough to drive a crazy man insane.

He fished the chunk of gold from his pocket and held it in his palm, felt the warmth of it, the weight of it, the possibilities it represented.

His mother would know. She had to know something.

His life felt like a puzzle missing critical pieces. His mother could probably supply a few of them.

But the others, what about the other pieces? What about his daughter, Sara? What about Nathan de Manua, her husband and Guardian? What about their daughter, his granddaughter? She must have been born by now.

It was impossible. How was a plain old cowpoke from Nebraska supposed to accept the impossible?

Lucas dropped the gold back into his pocket. Well, it was easier than denying it. Couldn’t stuff the demons back in once Pandora’s Box had been opened.

He snorted. If history as he remembered it was a case in point, the lid never did fit well in the first place.

Stay

is mother stepped in front of the backhoe, arms waving; mouth moving. From his perch high up in the cab, Lucas couldn’t hear a word she said.

He brought the machine to a stop and turned off the engine.

She called out to him again.

“Huh? I can’t hear you, Mom.” He hopped down from the cab. “What did you say?”

She put her hands on her hips and looked around. “You know, this road can wait. Your brothers can finish it up before winter.”

He shook his head. “No, I want to get it done. These ruts are hazardous, especially when the road gets wet. I don’t like you driving on it in bad weather.”

She took his arm. “Well, I appreciate it, I do, but you worry me, son. You haven’t stopped moving since the day you came back. You barely even sit still for a meal.”

Lucas couldn’t stop. If he stopped he’d think.

When he thought he thought about Sydney Blake.

He wondered what she was doing. How big the baby was getting. If she had enough help to move the cows up to the high country. He wondered if she thought of him. If he invaded her dreams the way she did his every single night.

Living away from Syd was pure torture, self-imposed torment.

“There’s that look again.”

“What look?”

“You can’t fool me, Lucas. I’ve known you since the day you were conceived.”

Her words got a smile out of him. He patted her hand. “I’m not trying to fool you, Mom.”

She raised her eyebrows. “The hell you’re not. Anyway, you’ve got a visitor up at the house. That’s what I came to tell you.”

A visitor? He felt like the proverbial rug had been pulled out from under him.

What if something has happened to her?

He’d never forgive himself. He’d left her all alone, abandoned her when things were getting tough. If anything happened to her or the baby it was on his head.

Lucas stumbled forward, the toes of his boots catching in the dirt he’d piled up on the side of the road. If his mother hadn’t grabbed his arm, he would have fallen to his knees.

“Lucas, whatever is the matter?”

He struggled to find his voice. “Who is it? Who’s here?”

“A gentleman from England.” His mother shot him an appraising look. “His name is Nathaniel Henry Neville, and he’s a nobleman. How’s that for a name?” She chuckled. “He told me I could call him Nate.”

De Manua
.

Lucas had spent the past six weeks trying to regain some sense of normalcy; trying to acquire some perspective about what and who he really was, or what and who he had been once upon a time. Now de Manua would throw it all in his face.

Perspective seemed determined to elude him.

Fuck
. He’d be forced to stare straight into that funhouse mirror all over again.

“Do you know him? Do you know what he wants?”

“Yes.”

“You do?” His mother stopped in her tracks. “Well whoever he is and whatever he wants you don’t seem very happy. What’s going on, son?”

Lucas shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Lucas, you’ve been flitting around like a bat since the day you showed up at my kitchen door. I’ve respected your privacy but this is too much. An English nobleman appears in the backwoods of Nebraska and you don’t want to talk about it.” She put a hand on the top of her head. “I’ve had it about up to here with your privacy. What on earth is going on?”

He was reluctant to meet her eyes, but he did. “I can’t, not now, Mom. Maybe later, after…”

“After you speak with Mr. Neville?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Maybe after I speak with Mr. Neville.”

Wary, eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, the two men circled each other in the small kitchen, each man taking the measure of the other.

“Why are you here, de Manua?”

“I could ask you the same, Guardian.”

“The name is Lucas, Lucas Jennings. This is my home.”

The man laughed. “I call your bluff. You are Lucas Jennings in the same way I am Nathaniel Henry Neville. And you are a bigger coward than I ever was. Your home is with her.”

“Enough. You have no right to judge me.” Lucas readied himself for an attack.

Fists clenched, Nathan edged closer. “You kept me in limbo for centuries. I have every right.”

“That was not my doing. I followed orders.”

“Orders…? Is that what you call it? Allowing me to suffer? Risking the life of your own daughter, your granddaughter?” Nathan shook his head. “You haven’t changed, Guardian. You still have no real heart, no soul. You haven’t lost a single ounce of your precious golden armor.”

Lucas knew the man was goading him, but he was beyond caring. So many memories, so many lives… It was more than any human could stand.

Lucas charged, slamming his shoulder into Nathan’s chest, his fist connecting with Nathan’s jaw. They crashed to the floor in a heap of flailing arms, legs and fists, both men landing blows, but neither man able to gain an advantage.

“Get up.” Lucas felt a hand smack the back of his head. “Get up off the floor, both of you. Behaving like children. Look at my kitchen. Look at it.”

Lucas let go of Nathan and rolled over onto his back. His mother glared down at the two of them.

“Your lip’s bleeding.” She pointed to his mouth. “And your eye is already swelling.” She waved a hand in Nathan’s direction. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you two are fighting over a woman.”

Panting, Lucas groped to his feet. He offered Nathan a hand, surprised when the man took it. Lucas hauled Nathan upright. Lucas studied the damage he’d inflicted on Nathan before he gingerly touched his own lip. “At least you didn’t knock out a tooth,” he said.

Nathan’s smile was humorless. “It wasn’t for lack of trying. Your perfect teeth have annoyed the hell out of me for centuries.”

Lucas’s mother stepped between them, hands on her hips. “Will somebody please tell me how you two know each other and why in god’s name you’re trying to beat each other to a pulp in my kitchen?”

The two men exchanged glances.

Nathan spoke up. “Would you give us a few moments, Mrs. Jennings?”

She crossed her arms and glowered at them both. At last she said, “Well, my garden needs a little work.” She opened the freezer and pulled out two bags of frozen peas. “Here, these will help with the swelling.” She tossed the bags on the table and left the men alone.

Lucas grabbed one of the bags of peas and pressed it against his mouth. He handed the other to Nathan. “For your eye,” he said.

“Thanks.” Nathan studied the ice cold bag, holding onto it with his fingertips. “Once upon a time we didn’t need a bag of peas.”

Lucas snorted. “Once upon a time we were immortal, or in your case, dead.”

“Well, no more. What do we do about this situation?”

“You’ve already done your part,” said Lucas. “You’ve married Sara. You have your daughter, Katie. Your life is your own.”

“Katie is your granddaughter.”

Lucas shrugged. “That’s not something I can ever admit to, for her sake, for Sara’s sake.” He eyed Nathan. “Why did you bother coming here?”

“I came because someone has to force you to join the human race.” Nathan leaned back against the refrigerator, holding the bag of frozen peas to his face. “Since I know what you are and I know what you are going through, I volunteered.” He looked Lucas right in the eye. “You can’t leave her alone any longer.”