by Laney McMann
Coming to the door he’d been searching for, he exhaled a relieved breath. He’d had no intention of searching this place out, but desperate times called for desperate measures, or so he thought was the saying. Stupid mortal clichés—what difference did it make? He’d had to come. An Anamolia was not a creature he could simply allow to run amok like some rabid dog waiting around every bend to destroy his way of life.
Kadence was worse than one of the Daemoneum, and Cato would find and destroy her himself. That is after he’d run the necessary tests on her. There were secrets she held that the Eldership could benefit from, he was sure. Granted, the thought of being in the same company of an Anamolia turned his stomach.
Stopping in front of a door with peeling blue paint, he shivered, not wanting to touch it. What would make paint peel, and why would a person leave it like that? The Mortal world, and all of its inhabitants, was like some kind of contagious plague he never intended to catch. The Daemoneum roamed here, too. He trembled at the thought.
Removing a pressed handkerchief from the pocket of his fine, black dress pants, he wrapped the thin white material around his knuckles and rapped on the door. When there was no answer, he knocked again impatiently. He had no time to linger. Cole Spires had only two relatives whom he’d remained in constant contact with since his parents had passed away; his grandfather, Caelius, and his uncle, Heru, and this being Heru’s last known address, it was Cato’s only hope of tracking the boy down and finding the Anamolia. He knocked again. And again.
“I’m not deaf!” someone said from the other side of the door. “Gimme a minute to figure this lock out. I’m busy,” the person mumbled. “Knocking on my door unannounced. This is the reason I didn’t want to move. Who is it anyway?”
“It’s Elder Cato.”
“Cato?” The bolt unlocked and the door opened by a crevice. A tall, greenish-skinned older man peered out. His yellow eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I apologize. I thought you would remember me?” Cato placed the handkerchief in his pocket, but truly he wanted to place it over his mouth and not breathe the man’s air.
“I do remember.”
“Ah,” he smiled the friendliest smile he could muster. “May I come in then?”
“What for? Ya see me fine from there.”
“All right. I was hoping to speak with Heru. Is he home?”
“Ya ask a lot of questions. Don’t like that myself. Never have. Meddlesome.”
“I see,” Cato tried to remain patient, “if I could just come in for a moment. I won’t take up much of your time.”
“Eldership Council, ya? Never liked the Eldership. Meddlesome. In my day we didn’t need a council. Fend for ourselves. How’d ya find me, anyway?”
“Well, this is Heru’s home. I know where most Primordials reside.” Cato gestured at the exterior of the two-story stone building in Verona. “As I said, I was hoping to talk with him.”
“Not here.” The door started to close, but Cato shoved his foot in the crevice.
“Might he be at your house?”
“My house? This is my house. I live here now. My son didn’t like me livin' in the woods. I’ll let him know ya stopped by.”
“The woods, you say? I really need to speak with him concerning Primordial business. Could you point me in the right direction?”
Osiris lifted a crooked, green-tinted middle finger straight up, and grinned. “Now, I’m shuttin' this door with or without yar foot shoved in it. Still strong, ya know?” He winked and slammed the door hard, clipping the toe of Cato’s fine dress shoes.
From Osiris’ front porch, it looked like a bomb had hit the property. In a perfect radius, there was simply nothing left. No trees, no rocks or leaves, nothing but a circular patch of dirt. A few faint streams of smoke spiraled into the air from the various fires Cole had started, which had thankfully all died out. Kade was speechless. What made her more speechless was the little voice that kept chiming in her head: you’re a Rubeum, too.
She’d seen Cole angry, upset, fighting, being a cocky smart-ass, but still, as she stared at the destruction, it was hard to fathom that kind of power could be contained inside one person. She wondered if even he knew his own strength or if anyone had ever witnessed what he was capable of. No wonder his dad wanted him on his side so badly. Cole was a one-man army.
The voice chimed in her head again: you’re capable of doing this, too. Kade didn’t want to think about that. She could choose between darkness and light, and she’d made her choice.
Cole trudged toward her from the side of the house laden down in firewood. The fireplace was the only heat in the small house, and it burned through wood faster than she thought was possible. He set the pile down on the edge of the porch and brushed his hands together. “Bad, huh?” He eyed the circular area barren of all life.
“Yeah, kind of. It’ll grow back.”
“You wanna try that walk again? I promise I won’t touch anything.”
“Not even me?” she smirked.
He held her hand and led her onto the other side of the house where the forest was still flourishing. “Thank you for making me soup.”
“You’re welcome.” She nudged his hip with hers. “Was it good?”
“Just what I needed.” His arm slung around her shoulders. “I could see us living like this someday,” he said. “You and me—a little house.” He smiled at his feet, as he and Kade ambled through the leaves. “I like it here with you.”
It was an incredible thought. Just the two of them.
“I’m sorry about earlier, Kade,” he said. “All of this.”
“I’m sorry, too.” She tugged him closer, relishing in the heat of him.
“Life never felt so precious as it does to me now.” He slowed and turned her to face him. “Life looks different now.”
She gazed up at him and touched his face. “It does.”
“I’d stay here forever with you.”
Kade guided his mouth down to hers and kissed him softly, only love. Her fingers pulled through the hair at the nape of his neck, and she relished in losing herself in him for a little while—forgetting everything that had happened in the past few weeks, in the last few hours—and just swimming in his kiss, breathing in the scent of him, his sweet smell of fresh laundry and fire.
Without breaking contact, Cole slowly moved her back toward the little house. The kiss deepened, and he lifted her off the ground as he climbed the front porch steps. He let out a small breath against her mouth when Kade wrapped her legs around his waist so he could carry her easier.
Entering the front door, Cole shut it with his foot, and set her down in front of the roaring fire without a word. His smoldering, dark eyes took her in. She saw the tenderness in them, the loss, the yearning, and it told her everything she needed to know. They’d been to hell and back, and neither one knew what tomorrow would bring.
Holding her gaze, he slowly unbuttoned her coat, his breaths steady but swift, and took it off her, dropping it on the floor. His hand ran across the fabric of her T-shirt, edging it up at the hem, until his fingers grazed bare skin, his eyes never leaving hers. Kade’s breath caught under his touch. She’d been so forward with him at the masquerade ball, almost embarrassed by it now, but this was wholly different, full of emotion instead of intoxication. Nothing was stopping them here. No crowd of people, no running and fighting for their lives, no drug fog—only the two of them for miles.
Leaning down, Cole skimmed her lips with his, a hand holding her waist, and his thumb rotated in slow circles on her bare hip under the hem of her shirt. Kade’s hands shook slightly as she unbuttoned his coat and took it off. His kisses grew deep, hot, and everlasting, as if he’d never stop, would never let her go. Kissing down her neck, hands shifting her shirt higher, he grazed his fingers over her ribcage, the lace of her bra. The warmth of him enveloped her, made her skin tingle.
Lifting her arms, he pulled her shirt over her head, and let out a half-breath, half-growl. It
was the third time he’d seen her with her shirt off and only her bra, and just like those times, his pupils blew wide and black. Kade drew his shirt over his head, her hands roaming the hard planes of his stomach, his chest, the curve of his hip bones, and felt him tremble.
Drawing her mouth back to his, Cole slowly backed her up across the living room and through the bedroom door. His hands shifted up the sides of her body to the strap of her bra, and he stopped, looking down at her with a questioning glance, the same way he had at the masquerade ball. Kade nodded for him to keep going.
A soft sound rumbled in his throat, and he unclipped her bra and let it fall to the ground. His chest rose and fell, his breaths unsteady. Goose bumps rose across her skin as he touched her. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
Moving closer, Kade traced the scars on his back, wondering if her touch really was healing him the way Euryale had told her. It felt that way. She caressed the lines wrapping his wrist and traveling up his bicep and shoulder. He was the beautiful one. The most incredible person she’d ever known, and he loved her. She could see it every time he looked at her, sense it when they kissed, and now as his hands, skillful, but careful, roamed her body—not rushed, but gentle and adoring—she could feel it in a way she never had before. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. He always had.
Leaning her back on the bed, Cole lay beside her, his hand grazing her hips, her waist, her ribs, and as he lightly trailed his fingers over her chest, he swallowed her release of breath with a kiss. His mouth moved along her jaw and down her neck, and Kade shuddered under his touches, warm and soft, full of want and desire. His deft fingers traveled from her chest down her stomach to the waist of her jeans, and she sucked in a breath.
“Should I stop?” He gazed down at her, eyes glittering, but tender. “Tell me to stop.”
She didn’t want him to stop. He’d stopped so many times already, leaving her breathless and hot, her mind reeling, and she was spinning now, too, spinning in an electric energy that made her whole body quiver, and she wanted more of it. The air was buzzing, crackling—the same as it had when she and Cole had made out in her bed at her dad’s house weeks ago. The day his corona had blazed red and lit her room up. The first time he’d seen her in her bra and told her he wanted to do everything the right way.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, and he half-growled, half-groaned. He wanted it to be right, she knew, and she also knew how much he needed her after what he’d been through—what they’d both been through—and that he didn’t want to make love to her out of desperation. But nothing about this was hurried or desperate. It was meaningful, sincere, and real.
The button of her jeans came undone, followed by the zipper, and the next thing she knew, her jeans were on the floor. Cole’s jeans followed as his mouth trailed over her chest, and Kade could no longer process thoughts. Her mind went blank. She didn’t remember her name anymore. Everything was a wash of energy. Red light emanated from Cole’s body, and Kade realized her own corona was radiating as well, setting the bedroom ablaze. Her hands pulled through his hair, their tongues touching, kisses deepening with a heat she’d never known.
“Kade,” Cole breathed, bodies pressed together, “tell me to stop. Sparrow … I …”
She tugged him against her, trailing her lips down his throat.
He let out a breath, hands shaking slightly, and stared down at her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
His gaze smoldered with hunger and want. Yearning and desire, and love.
Trembling hands slid down her body and her underwear ended up who knew where, and everything in the room was illuminated, real but not real. Cole supported his weight over her, not touching her, and she heard the crinkle of plastic. Her whole body tensed. Real.
Lowering himself, his heart pounded against her chest, and their mouths crashed together, hot and lingering. The electricity in the room increased, sizzling with unbridled energy, and Cole moved against her. Kade’s breath caught, hard in her throat, her hands grasping his back. He moaned against her mouth. Gentle bites grazed her lips.
Gazing into her eyes, their bodies moved together as one. It was everything she thought it would be and more. Cole had been right to want to wait because she couldn’t imagine anything more perfect than this.
Kade tugged him against her, and Cole’s breath hitched and staggered. The warmth of it caressed her neck, and his mouth went back to hers, tongues teasing, craving. One of his hands held her bare hip, and he whispered in her ear, but she couldn’t understand his words—their breaths racing unsteadily, the energy and heat in the room setting her body on fire.
“Sparrow,” he whispered, and his entire body trembled against hers. His hands gripped the comforter on either side of her head. A faint cry escaped Kade’s lips, and the room was washed in vibrant red light.
Chapter 39
Daylight streamed through the slight gap in the cotton curtains over the small bedroom window and across Cole’s sleepy face. He’d had no idea how long he and Kade had slept, but he felt better than he had in weeks. Yawning, he smiled a stupid smile, and rolled onto his side, reaching for Kade. He peeked his eyes open when his hand hit the cold, empty sheet bedside him.
Lazily sitting up, he threw the massive stack of blankets off to the side and grabbed his jeans and boxer shorts from the floor. Pulling them on, along with his jacket and no shirt, he yawned again, rubbing his eyes. “Sparrow?”
The fire in the small living room had died down to deep orange embers, he saw as he entered, leaving the room cold and low-lit.
“Kade?” Cole shuffled into the tiny kitchen, barefoot, hands shoved in his jean’s pockets, freezing. The kitchen was empty.
Turning around, he made his way back into the bedroom, wondering where he’d put his shoes. The bathroom door stood open, the room empty. “Kade?” He tore through the small living room and yanked the front door open with too much force. The narrow wooden porch was empty.
His heart pounding painfully against his ribs, he jumped off the end of the splintered deck in one bound and landed in the blown apart yard. “Kade!”
“Cole?” She came around the side of the house, bundled up in her coat and scarf—her long dark blonde hair in a messy bun on top of her head, cheeks and nose pink from the cold, and her arms full of firewood.
“Thank god.” His voice strangled out, legs slightly unstable under his weight, chest heaving in panicked breaths as he placed his hands on his hips in sheer, desperate relief.
Her eyes went wide. “What’s wrong?”
“I woke up, and … you were gone, and,” his words ricocheted around in his brain, getting jumbled up, not making sense, “and I … where were you?”
Her expression softened from fear to empathy. “I’m sorry. I was getting more wood.” She motioned to the stack in her arms. “The fire’s dying out.”
“I saw,” Cole breathed, moving forward, unable to slow his speeding pulse and breaths, and unloaded the logs from her arms into his own. “I can do it. I’m sorry, I just, I called … your nnname,” he stuttered, “three times … but you didn’t … answer, and I thought … fffor a second—”
“That someone took me?” Her yellow-green eyes were full of sadness as she stared up at him, placing her cold hand on his cheek.
He nodded, gazing at her, but didn’t speak. He couldn’t talk.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. You were sleeping, and you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you up. The wood is just right here.” She pointed at the woodpile on the side of the house.
“It’s okay. I just … come on.” He was trembling. “It’s cold out here.”
“You’re barefoot,” Kade said, staring down as he climbed the porch steps.
“Yeah.” Cole entered the little house and stacked the wood into the hearth, assembling it all properly, before sitting on the couch. His gaze centered on the slowly but steadily increasing flames, not really seeing the fire. His mind had gone blank—his
body numb.
Kade sat beside him, kicking her boots off, and tucking her legs up to her chest against the chill. She shivered, and Cole leaned back and wrapped her in his arms, tugging one of the wool blankets laid across the back of the couch on top of them. They watched the newly lit flames lick up the chimney, warming the house, and lighting the space in an orange glow.
Kade rested her head against his shoulder, wrapping her hands around his bicep. “You’re not okay, are you?”
“No.” He didn’t turn to look at her.
She repositioned herself so she was facing him and gently turned his head away from the fire. “I’m so sorry, Cole. I didn’t mean to scare you. It was just cold, and I thought you needed your rest. You haven’t been sleeping. I was trying to help.”
He stared at her, the way her yellow-green eyes had little specks of color around the irises, and the balls of her cheeks had a pink hue. She was the most beautiful person he’d ever known and he was terrified of losing her in a way he couldn’t articulate or explain.
“I rolled over and found a cold, empty bed,” he said in a rough voice, “and I panicked. I’m sorry. This isn’t really how I pictured our first morning together, you know, after …”
Her cheeks reddened.
Cole loved that—having the simple power of making her blood heat and rush to the surface of her skin with just his words. He cupped her jaw, his fingers drawing circles on her face, and guided her mouth to his. “Are you okay today?” he asked, resting his forehead against hers. “I mean, everything’s … good?” He smiled a little, not knowing what exactly to say. Sex was one thing—he’d had sex before—but what had happened between them last night wasn’t that. Being with Kade had been nothing like what he’d experienced in the past. He was in love with her, and that changed everything.
She smiled wide, her face turning brighter red. “I’m good. Really good.”
“Yeah?” He kissed her cheek, her temple, softly.
“Mm hm.” She tilted her head, bringing his mouth to hers with her small hands. Lying back on the couch, she tugged him on top of her, the blanket falling on the floor. The simple motion warmed his entire body and eased his nerves. Her touch had a tranquil kind of power over him. She grounded him, and he had no idea why or how, but he relished it—was thankful for it—for her.
