Lover Reborn

He caught what she tossed over, frowning at the symbol stamped on the cellophane. What the hell? This is… the Old Language.

“Yup, and we have no clue who’s behind it. But I promise you this, I’m going to find out.”

Let me know if I can help.

“I got this.”

I know.

The stretch of silence that rang out served to remind him of where they were—and were not.

“You’re right,” she said abruptly. “I haven’t had you to my house on purpose. It’s hard enough to have you leave me from here.”

I could stay with you. I could move in, and—

“Wrath would never allow it—rightfully so, I might add. You’re a very valuable commodity to him, and my cabin is hardly as secure as the mansion. Besides, what the hell would we do with Qhuinn? He deserves a life, too —and at least where you stay he has some autonomy.”

Alternate days, then.

She shrugged. “Until that becomes not enough? John, this is what we have—and it’s better than a lot of people get. You don’t think Tohr would kill to be able to—”

It’s not enough for me. I’m greedy, and you’re my shellan, not just a booty call.

“And I can’t go back to the mansion. I’m sorry. If I do, I’ll end up hating them—and you. I’d like to pretend I can self-actualize this shit away, and be all, ‘I’ll just do me,’ but I can’t.”

I’ll talk to Wrath—

“Wrath’s not the issue. They take their cues from you. All of them.”

When he didn’t reply, she came up to him, put her palms on his face, and stared into his eyes. “This is the way it has to be. Now go so I can close up. And come back to me first thing tomorrow night. I’m already counting down the minutes.”

She kissed him firmly.

And then turned away and left the office.

TWENTY-FOUR

No’One woke up to a great, horrifying scream, the kind of thing that accompanied bloody murder.

It took her a moment to realize she was making the sound, her mouth stretched wide, her body strung tight, her lungs burning as she exhaled.

Fortunately, she had left the lights on, and she frantically looked around at the bedroom’s toile-covered walls and drapery and bedspread. Then she focused on her robe… yes, she had her robe on, not a thin nightgown.

It had been a dream. A dream…

She was not in a root cellar in the earth.

She was not at the mercy of the symphath—

“I’m sorry.”

Gasping, she jerked back against the padded headboard. Tohrment was standing just inside the room, the door closed behind him.

“Are you okay?” he said.

She yanked her hood up into place, hiding beneath it. “I…” Memories of what had happened between them made it hard to think clearly. “I am… well enough.”

“I can’t believe that,” he said in a hoarse way. “God… I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse for what I did. And I won’t come near you ever again. I swear…”

The anguish in his voice bit into her as surely as if it were her own. “It’s all right—”

“The hell it is. I even gave you a nightmare—”

“What awoke me was not you. It was… from before.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “It’s strange, I have not dreamed of the… what happened to me… ever. I have thought of it often, but when I sleep, I have only darkness.”

“And just now?” he gritted out.

“I was back underground. In the root cellar. The smell down there—dearest Virgin Scribe, the smell.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she felt the draft sure as if she were once again behind that rough oak door. “Salt licks… I’d forgotten the salt licks.”

“I’m sorry?”

“There were salt licks down there for the animals—that is why my scars stuck with me. I’d always wondered if maybe he’d used some kind of symphath power or something to alter my skin. But no, there were salt licks, and salting meats.” She shook her head. “I’d forgotten about them until now. Forgotten so many precise details—”

As a growled curse came out of him, she glanced up. Tohrment’s expression suggested he wished he could kill that symphath all over again—but he covered it up, as if he didn’t want to upset her.

“I don’t think I ever told you I was sorry,” he said softly. “Back then, in the cottage with Darius. He and I were both so sorry that you had—”

“Please, let us speak no longer upon the subject. Thank you.”

In the awkward silence that followed, his stomach rumbled.

“You should eat,” she murmured.

“Not hungry.”

“Your tum—”

“Can go to hell.”

Staring up at his still figure, she was astounded by the difference in him: even after such a short time, the color was back in his face, his posture was straighter, his eyes much more alert.

The blood was such a powerful thing, she thought.

“I will feed you again.” As he regarded her as though she had lost her mind, she kicked up her chin and met his stare. “Absolutely, I will do it again.”

To see this improvement in him in such a short time, she would endure those moments of terror anew. She was e’er trapped by her past, but oh, the change in him: her blood had freed him from his fatigue—and that was going to keep him alive out in the field.

“How can you say that?” His voice was gruff to the point of cracking.

“It is simply the way I feel.”

“Obligation shouldn’t take you that far down into your personal hell.”

“That is for me to choose, not you.”

His brows drew in hard. “You were a lamb to the slaughter in that pantry.”

“If that were true, I would not be breathing right now, would I.”

“Did you like the dream you just had? Have fun with it?” As she recoiled, he stalked across to the shuttered windows and stared with fixation as if he could see through them to the garden. “You’re more than a maid or a blood whore, you know.”

With proper hauteur, she informed him, “To serve others well is a noble endeavor.”

Looking over his shoulder, his eyes found hers in spite of the hood. “But you’re not doing it to be noble. You’re under that robe hiding your beauty and your station to punish yourself. I don’t think it has anything to do with some kind of an altruistic streak.”

“You do not know me or my motivations—”

“I was aroused.” At that she blinked. “You had to have known that.”

Well, yes, she had. But—

“And if I am at your vein again, that’s going to happen. Again.”