she’d succeeded until about thirty seconds ago.
He walked down the steps, eyes locked on her. Her mouth went dry; her palms grew moist. She took a deep breath, raised her chin and waited for him to reach her. His smile widened and his dimples flashed. Moisture pooled in her eyes. She clenched her hands into fists, nails digging into the tender skin of her palms. The pain grounded her, kept the tears from falling. Still she was grateful for the glasses. She wondered briefly if he could see past them. He always seemed to be able to, especially when it was the last thing she wanted.
He stopped just beyond her reach. She kept her gaze trained on his forehead, unwilling to meet his eyes. They stood like that for a long time—him smiling down at her and her resisting the urge to throw herself into his arms.
“You cut your hair,” he said finally.
She ran a hand through the maintenance-free cut. When he’d last seen her, it had been halfway down her back, now it barely brushed the bottom of her neck. Less for the bad guys to grab onto.
He tugged one short strand. “The streaks are new, too.” At the moment, they were cardinal red hiding amongst her usual black. He grinned at her. “I like it. It suits you.”
She hated the need, the yearning, the grin and the compliment sparked in her. Clearing her throat, she ignored the expectant look in his eye. “I have to go.” She thanked every god she could think of that her voice was sure and strong.
The smile faltered then disappeared completely as a muscle in his jaw twitched. “That’s it? After seven years, you have to go?”
She ignored the ire in his voice and found her own. Finally getting the nerve to meet his eyes, she whipped off the glasses and shoved them in her pocket. “Seven years isn’t my fault, Thomas. I’m not the one that left. That was you. Remember? Because I do. Vividly.”
His eyes shifted away before coming back to hers. “You asked for time. I gave it to you.”
Her heart constricted at the words. She closed her eyes and forced the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm her back down into the little corner of her soul where she usually kept it. Anger took its place as she thought of all the pain that could have been avoided if he hadn’t gone off to nurse his cursed wounded pride. She opened her eyes, met his with a blazing fury. “You call disappearing from my life giving me time? Seven years and you can’t pick up a phone, send flowers, a postcard, anything? And now you want me to be happy you’re here? Keep waiting.”
Thomas scowled, his eyes cold.
Juliana shrugged and pain tore through her shoulder, making her wish she’d finished the scotch. Thomas froze, his body possessing the stillness only the elder Altered could achieve.
“You are injured,” he said, his voice low, soft.
He always hated to see her hurt. She laughed at the irony, cringing at the bitter sound that escaped her.
The skin around his eyes tightened. He leaned forward. “Let me see.”
She shook her head. “I’m not your responsibility anymore. Haven’t been for a long time. I take care of myself.”
His brow furrowed and he reached for her. She took a step back. His hand fell away. “I understood you would be upset by my arrival, but I did not expect this level of...”
“Hatred?” she finished for him.
He laughed, an echo of her earlier bitter sound. “I was going to say hostility. You cannot possibly hate me,
Clenching her jaw, she ignored the nickname and the fact he was right. She didn’t hate him and she did want more time. She’d spent so long waiting for him to come back. When he didn’t, she resigned herself to the fact it was never going to happen. But now here he was, just as infuriating and magnetic as she remembered him. She wasn’t ready for this.
He seemed so unaffected by her, by her anger. She needed him to suffer the way she did. “I think you’re imagining more between us than there was, Thomas. It was just one night.”
His eyes swirled black in anger. Finally, the reaction she yearned for. One night didn’t even begin to cover their history. She’d given herself to him, but he only wanted what she had to offer if she gave it all to him. Everything she was. So they were United—a metaphysical pairing which joined them forever, no matter how much she might regret it now. The next morning he started talking about her role in the coven and announcing their union to the Council. Her head spinning with the enormity of it all, she’d asked for time before they told anyone. He took it as a rejection and not only left the room, he left California completely.
“You can tell yourself any lie you want. But don’t try it with me. It won’t work.” His eyes were still dark, but his stance relaxed.
She ignored him. “See you, Tony. Miguel.” She stepped around Thomas and headed for the door, not daring to breathe until she was safely past his reach.
He remained silent until she reached the top of the stairs. “This isn’t over, Juliana. Not even close.”
Did she think to be rid of him so easily? His little bride, as aggravating and enticing as always. Thomas narrowed his eyes at the door that stood between him and his mate. She thought to reduce their history to one night? He tried to read her, to see if she meant her words, but the shield she erected against him in her mind was impenetrable. Their union should give them access to each other’s emotions, even their thoughts if she let it.
But she threw the wall up right after he left, and only on rare occasions had he been able to get through her mental shields. He hoped lessening the distance between them would make it easier for him to gain access, but he was wrong. If anything, his appearance only made her strengthen the barrier. Seven years he’d been anticipating their reunion and nothing thus far had gone as he envisioned.
He thought once he explained why he left, she’d understand, be grateful even, but she never gave him the chance. The corner of his mouth curled into a reluctant smile as he remembered their volatile exchange. He’d always enjoyed their sparring matches. No one else dared speak to him that way. No one else had in nearly a thousand years and lived. No one but his Juliana.
She always had a sharp tongue and a quick temper, even as a child. Her complete disregard for the danger he represented was the reason he took her off the streets in the first place. Well, that and his sister’s begging. Sara had been as instantly snared by Juliana as he was. She’d never feared him, never questioned her belief that he wouldn’t harm her. She reminded him of his humanity.
And she’d been completely unwilling to admit that she needed help. She’d been taking care of herself for months when Sara came across her in the park and they became instant friends. Twelve years old with no memory of where she came from or who she was beyond her name. Of course, her age was an estimate done by the same doctors that had done the tests to determine her heritage. She’d built a new life with them in their coven. And then another life after he left.
His smile faded into a frown. Despite the familiarity of her anger, she wasn’t the same woman he left behind. She’d changed. Changes that went beyond her red-streaked hair and the lean muscle that now graced her body from head to toe. She’d lost the playful edge she used to have. The twinkle that lit her eye as she antagonized him. She was harder, rougher around the edges.
But it was the injury she wouldn’t let him examine that stayed in the forefront of his mind. He knew she worked for the Agency, knew she was a Walker even, but never imagined she would be in a high-risk position. There were many who bore the title Realm Walker and never left the walls of the Agency as their skills were not suited for the field. Curse it, what had that girl been up to?
“You told her I was coming?” He kept his eyes locked on the door, some part him waiting for her to walk back through and finish their fight.
“No. Of course not, my lord,” the underling behind him stammered.
Thomas hadn’t actually thought the man had, but he’d learned long ago never to make assumptions. The
