the bandage. The skin around it was almost back to its normal color. “Anna’s dying.”
And she had nearly died, too, his gesture said. Her heart gave a sharp thudda-thudda at his touch. “What does that have to do with Fallon?”
“Because death is guaranteed. Life isn’t. And Fallon put himself out there, even knowing he was going to get shot down.” He paused, then let go of her hand. Instead of moving away from her, though, he stepped closer, and lifted both hands to grab on to the lapels of her new leather. “I’ve never done that.”
Feeling like she was on the cusp of the dream when she had least expected to find herself there, she nodded. “Not with me, anyway.”
“Not with anyone. I don’t know. Maybe part of me thought Keban was right when he said nobody would want me for anything other than my strength. Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe I was so full of myself I thought I didn’t need to work for it.”
“I can see how you would think that—the second part, I mean,” Reese said, not wanting to look too hard at the first part because she knew it would wipe out what little common sense and self-restraint she had left. She could picture all too well Dez-the-child hearing that, believing it.
His mouth quirked. “Because I was full of myself in general?”
“No. Because I would have done anything for you back then.”
He went still. “And now?”
She hesitated. “I’m confused. Who are you, really? What do you want from me? And for gods’ sake, what are you hiding? There’s something. I can see it in your eyes, or maybe it’s that I’m feeling it in whatever link we’ve got going.”
He went very still. “You can sense the blood-bond?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“You’re right, and this isn’t going to be one, either. But I’m asking you to hear me out.” His tone was serious, his eyes intense.
Her stomach fluttered. Or was that her instincts? She could never tell when it came to him. But she nodded shallowly. “Go ahead.”
“When I left Keban I walked away from most of what he taught me. But a few things stuck, mostly about how the members of the serpent bloodline were typically ambitious as hell, borderline arrogant, and tough as nails. Even when I stopped believing in the Nightkeepers, I still knew that fit me. He also said that a serpent male, especially a powerful one, needed to make sure he had everything else straight in his life before he took a mate, because the serpents love obsessively, to the point that for the first while, nothing else exists for them. More, they need to pick a mate who can handle that, who can handle them, and keep them on an even keel.”
Which wasn’t anything she had expected to hear from him . . . but it explained a few things. She took a deep breath, then let it out on a sigh. “You weren’t sure about me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot. I was worried about me, not you. Back then, I was having screwy dreams and weird impulses, probably because Keban had unearthed the star demon and was in the area, looking for me. And over the past year—and even the last couple of weeks—I’ve been trying to figure out how to make damn sure I can control what happens with Keban and the compass artifacts.”
Her gut told her that was the absolute and final truth. She nodded slowly. “Okay, I get that. You need space to—”
“Not anymore.” His knuckles brushed the sides of her neck. “That’s what I’ve been figuring out over the past few days. It started when you got hurt, which made me wonder what the hell I’ve been waiting for. And then today, with Fallon . . . that sealed it. Because I’m not going to let myself get outdone by a cop.”
He said the last with a faint sneer, which was so perfectly Dez that she felt her lips curve even as her heart beat an unsteady rhythm. “And?”
“You’re mine, Reese.” His eyes went luminous and his voice dropped to a whisper. “And I’m yours. I always have been, even when I got lost in the darkness.”
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. All she could do was stare at him and wonder whether she was dreaming. But the throb of her body was very real, as was the tightness in her chest and the hot prickle of tears.
When she didn’t answer right away, the fear that entered his eyes was almost tangible. More, it said that this mattered to him, that she mattered, more than he’d ever let on before. “Please tell me I haven’t missed my shot, that you’ll take your chances on a serpent mage whose life seems to be permanently out of control. Because I—”
She cut him off with a kiss. And if the move came partly from her not being ready to hear what she suspected he had been about to say, it quickly became more when Dez’s lips slanted across hers. He shifted his grip from her jacket to the back of her neck, and shuddered against her, humming a low, almost awestruck noise at the back of his throat. That soft, needy sound, so very un-Dezlike, left her helpless to do anything but curl her fingers into his shirt and kiss him back with everything that was inside her.
She kissed him with the ache of having lost and found him again, the guilt of wanting him far more than she ever had wanted Fallon, and the fiery desire that came from not knowing what was going to happen tomorrow, next week, next year. Because he was right—they needed to take what they could now, because tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed. Anna proved that. The attack inside Skywatch proved it.
Her entire world coalesced to the taste of him, the heat inside his mouth and the way his skin slid against hers. He vibrated with a raw power that fueled the longing that rocketed through her, the sense of yes, there please, oh, finally. They twined together, her arms around his neck, his hands at her waist, her shoulders, fisting in her hair as a groan vibrated at the back of his throat. But then she eased the kiss, slowly, softly, and drew away from him far enough that she could look up into his eyes, where she didn’t see any secret shadows anymore. Heart shuddering, she reached up to stroke the strong, smooth line of his jaw. And winced when the move tugged at her bandage and the sting of pain echoed through her body to resonate with the other assorted aches and pains.
Catching her hand in his, he pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Weren’t you supposed to spend the day in bed?”
Was it only that morning she’d been chafing at being stuck in her suite? That felt like forever ago. “Christ, I’m tired. Physically. Emotionally . . . God. I need some time to process.” Slanting him a look, she said, “Your timing blows. You know that, right?”
His lips twitched. “Like I said, I’m through with waiting for the perfect moment.” But he stepped away from her and pushed open her door. “Get some rest.” He leaned in and gave her a lingering good-night kiss that was soft and sweet, and shifted something in her chest. “I’ll see you in the morning. And do me a favor and keep a gun on you.”
She pressed her cheek to his and closed her eyes at the grim reminder of the world beyond the two of them. “Count on it.” But she appreciated that he was giving her the space she needed, and trusting her to be smart about her safety.
And she appreciated how, when she got out of the shower a half hour later, feeling warm, drowsy, and achy, she found a king-sized sleeve of peanut butter cups sitting just inside the door, like a sacrificial offering from an old friend who knew what she needed, and may finally be ready to give it to her.
It was nearly ten p.m. when Dez headed for the royal wing, but it had taken him some time to come down off the high of having finally made a real and honest move on Reese. She needed to think about things—he got that—but he thought they may finally—finally—be on the right track. But, given that, there was something he needed to do.
He tapped on the heavy double doors that led to the opulent royal suite. A moment later, Leah swung open the smaller, normal-sized panel inset into the carvings, but instead of inviting him in, she pointed farther down the hall. “He’s sitting with Anna. Said for you to meet him there.”
“Thanks.”
The royal wing contained the king’s huge suite, along with apartments for the royal winikin—empty now that Jox was gone, though still kept exactly how he left it—and several sets of kids’ rooms. The door to one of them stood open.
Dez tapped on the frame, got Strike’s quiet, “Yep,” and went on in.
