by Lisa Kessler
Her words echoed through his mind. The simplicity of her statement slammed into him. Could it really be so simple? She didn’t understand the pain brewing inside of him, couldn’t understand. Half of his spirit used to soar through the clouds. How could he reconcile losing that part of himself?
He brought his right hand up, caressing her cheek. Her lashes lowered as she turned her head, her lips brushing his palm. When she met his eyes again, unworthiness swelled in his chest. He’d bared his scars, his wounds, and somehow this angel in front of him didn’t see him as weak. But she didn’t know that her cousin was dead—because of his inability to protect them.
She stared up at him, her voice filling his mind. I was with my mother and my brother that day. We were walking through Belfast, down Shankill Road.
Colin’s chest tightened. He remembered the Shankill Road bombing. She was lucky to be alive.
While we walked in front of Frizzell’s fish shop, the bomb exploded. All I remember was a sound so big it threw me across the street. Paramedics performed CPR on me for five minutes. They brought me back. I woke up terrified, in pain, and lost. They didn’t know where my mother was or my brother, and if they did… Her eyes welled with tears. I couldn’t hear them. I couldn’t hear anything, not even myself. I screamed until they sedated me.
Colin embraced her, kissing her hair. I wish it could have been different.
She nodded against his chest. My mom survived, but I lost my older brother that day, and my hearing never returned. I spent two years angry at God, at the whole world.
What changed?
She leaned back just far enough to meet his eyes, her lips so close that her breath warmed his skin. I finally realized that nothing would change what happened. I couldn’t travel through time and pull my mother down a different street. She paused, the corners of her mouth curving into a bittersweet smile. One day, I went back to the piano, and I played. Since I was a little girl, I dreamed of playing in large concert halls, with symphonies. The bombing stole that dream from me, but I could still play. The vibrations come through my feet, through my fingers. That day, sitting on the piano bench, I decided deafness didn’t define me. I am so much more than my ears.
His pulse quickened as he bridged the distance between them. Yes, you are.
His lips caressed hers, taking his time, relishing the softness of her mouth. She moaned aloud, and blood rushed to his groin. There was more he should tell her, about himself, about Benedict and Muriel, but everything paled the moment her hands moved up his back, exploring his bare skin. Her touch sent fire through his veins.
He’d been so entrenched in his own self-pity, lost since the demon attack, he’d forgotten the miracle of a woman’s touch, and Juliana was unlike any woman he’d ever known. Hiding his injury had caused him to retreat, but she’d lured him back into the world. She made him feel alive, mortal.
Her lips parted, allowing his tongue to tangle slowly with hers. His fingers slid into her hair, cradling her head while his other hand moved down her back and over her jeans, pressing her tight against him. She rocked her hips, eliciting a growl deep in his throat as she teased him through his trousers.
No woman had ever inspired a hunger like this.
He walked her toward the sofa, claiming her lips over and over. His hands slipped under the back of her top, exploring her soft skin. It would be so easy to use his speed to remove all their clothes, leaving no barriers between their flesh, but he wanted to savor every touch. She stopped when her legs bumped the couch.
Colin broke the kiss, his gaze locked on hers. I want you.
Her dark eyes studied his, her lips reddened from his kisses. He should stop. He should tell her about Muriel, focus on stopping Benedict. But the look in her eyes… Her desire mirrored his own. They could live a little longer in this moment. It was better for her not to know, to think her cousin had left town. It would save her from the pain. Wasn’t that what he’d decided? He couldn’t think—he was too swept up in her.
Finally, her beautiful voice filled his mind. I want you, too.
He didn’t hesitate, raising her shirt and pulling it over her head. Her nimble fingers traced every muscle on his chest until she reached his waist and unbuttoned his trousers. Unfastening her bra, he slid the satin down her arms, letting it fall to the floor. He cupped her breast, kissing his way down her neck as his other hand possessively roamed over the curve of her behind.
For the first time since the Night Demon had devoured his limb, he felt whole. He silenced the voice inside that warned him about the future, about caring for a mortal. This was about surrender. He’d walked through her door as damaged goods, and somehow she made him believe he could be more.
His tongue licked slowly over her pulse, and it raced in answer until his fangs lengthened inside his mouth, aching to deepen their connection. He wasn’t sure how long his self-control would last. Already he ached to taste her.
Forcing himself back from her throat, he kissed her lips and quickly unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. He slid his hand down her flat abdomen, under the lace of her panties. She gasped into the kiss the moment his fingers slipped lower.
Do you want me to stop? he whispered into her mind.
Her teeth caught his bottom lip, her heavy lashes lifting to meet his eyes. Don’t you dare.
He groaned, kissing her hard as he shoved her jeans down her hips. She carefully unzipped his trousers, freeing his erection. Passion mingled with a surge of bloodlust as she ran her fingers along his length until his tenuous grasp on his control threatened to give way.
Laying her down on the sofa, he trailed kisses from her lips, to her chin, to her chest while he cupped her breast. Watching her face, he licked her nipple. Her entire body shuddered, her back arching toward him. He accepted her offering, greedily taking her breast into his mouth, teasing the tip with his tongue, while his other hand rubbed her, his finger sliding inside her.
Seeing the desire on her face, feeling her respond, he needed to be closer. He moved over her and stared down into her eyes as he pressed his hips forward. Her body fit his perfectly, tempting him to move too fast, to give in to the passion, but he wanted this moment to last. Forever.
Her nails scratched down his back as a soft moan escaped her lips. Yes… Colin… Yes.
He propped himself over her, watching the way their hips came together. Seeing his body slide into hers made his pulse race even faster. Her hands moved up his back and down his shoulders. The second her warm fingers touched the scars on his left arm, he froze. She opened her eyes, looking directly into his soul.
Your scars don’t scare me. Don’t let them scare you.
Emotions he couldn’t name swelled in his chest. Strange feelings he didn’t recognize. He kissed her, holding her close, her breasts pressed against him, heart to heart, as his lips shared words he couldn’t speak.
He thrust into her faster, his kisses trailing to her earlobe. Say my name.
Colin…
With your voice.
She tensed in his arms. He’d bared himself to her, sharing scars that went far deeper than his skin. But she barely knew him. Since the bombing, her voice had become a dormant part of her. Shortly after the accident, she’d tried to speak, unable to hear the volume or the tones, but the expressions on the faces of her mother, other teens she’d thought were her friends, and teachers, made it clear her voice was shocking and unintelligible.
She didn’t even speak to her cat. There was no way she could say something aloud to this man while she was naked in his arms. Not a chance.
Colin held her tight, rolling over so she rested on top. Juliana sat above him, grinding her hips into his. Colin’s strong hands gripped her thighs. Staring down at him, she drank in the pleasure on his face.
His voice filled her mind, deep and throaty. You are so beautiful.
My voice is not.
His gaze held hers as he thrust up into her, reaching even deeper. He slid his hand between them, teasing her
until she couldn’t catch her breath, until the rest of the world ceased to exist. In that moment, he became everything that mattered. She let her head fall back.
Let go. Don’t hold back, not with me.
Her heart pounded, her muscles tightening around him and pleasure swamping her until she allowed the air into her inactive vocal chords. She moaned, working her hips into him faster as she finally freed herself completely.
“Yes!”
His grip on her leg tightened, and he erupted inside her. She collapsed onto his chest, their bodies still connected as she struggled to catch her breath. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but she was too spent to wipe it away. She’d been with a few men in her life, but sex had never been this intense, or intimate. Not even remotely.
And she’d known all those men much better than she knew Colin.
I don’t even know your last name.
To be fair, angel… He leaned up to kiss her forehead. You have not told me yours, either.
She smiled without lifting her head. No one had ever referred to her by a pet name. Bartley called her Juli, but that was different.
She kissed his chest. Duffy. Juliana Duffy.
Colin Flynn. Great to meet you.
She laughed without censuring herself, allowing it to bubble past her lips. Colin ran his hand up her back. It was a miraculous gift to be able to communicate again. No need for her pad and pen. Over the years, she’d had a couple of friends who knew sign language, but they’d been few and far between so her signing skills were rusty. Being with Colin, hearing him, it changed everything.
Look at me.
She lifted her head. The sight of his smile stole her breath. He’d arrived at her cottage tonight a different man. There was no trace of the bitterness and suffering now.
You have a beautiful voice, and hearing you laugh is a gift.
Losing herself in his eyes, she swallowed a lump of emotion and spoke. “Colin.”
He lifted his head and kissed her lips tenderly. She hummed into the kiss, enjoying the freedom of letting her guard down. His body tightened as he sat up, taking her with him. He pulsed deep inside of her, warming her all over. She started to wrap her legs around his waist when her brain kicked in. Suddenly she froze.
Condoms. I got so caught up, I forgot. I… She moved out of his arms, separating their bodies, while she mentally berated herself for thinking with the wrong body part.
A little late for that now, he said in her mind as she hustled through her bedroom. She turned on the bathroom light and opened the medicine cabinet. I think I have a box. I hope they’re still good. Do condoms go bad?
Colin appeared in the doorway just as she lifted the lid on the box. I cannot make you pregnant.
She turned, foil packet in hand. There are worse things than getting pregnant.
He raised a brow. You think I have a disease?
I didn’t say that, but I already did something I never dreamed I’d do when I slept with a man before I knew his last name. She smiled holding the condom package out to him. I think I’ve taken enough chances for one night. She paused and then shot him a sexy smile. Ready for round two?
Colin stared at the foil packet in her hand. He’d never in his long existence used a condom. He understood how they worked. In theory.
Taking it from her, he followed her to the bed. Juliana’s dark-red hair spilled over the white pillowcases like fire as she lay down, smiling up at him.
She gave him no choice.
He tore open the foil and fumbled with the rubber ring. She sat up, taking it from him. Let me help you.
Her fingers stroked his length until he pulsed with desire again. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes as she slipped the condom in place, making the nuisance into a sensual tease. He lay over her, sinking back into the warmth of her body. He loathed having the thin barrier between them, but he pushed aside the thought and concentrated on memorizing the sexy curves of her body while fighting to keep his thirst at bay.
Every pulse of her heart became a temptation.
Chapter Seven
Juliana’s breathing slowed as she dozed in his arms. He watched her face, stroking his hand down the length of her silky hair. What was he doing? What happened to learning her secret and then vanishing from her life? Now he was in her bed, hiding from the world, hiding from the truth.
He sighed and stared at the ceiling. He’d lived a solitary existence for centuries. A relationship with a mortal would only lead to an eternity of heartbreak when he lost her. If she still wanted anything to do with him once she knew the truth, that is.
That he wasn’t a man at all. That Muriel was dead because he didn’t do his duty.
Maybe she never needed to know any of it. She could live a happy life, in peace that way. But deep down, he knew that was the wrong thing to do. She deserved to know.
Sunrise was coming. He needed to get back to the farm. He brushed a kiss to her forehead and carefully laid her beside him in the bed. She shifted but didn’t awaken. After he got dressed, he found her pad and flipped to the next page.
He wrote a note and slipped quietly out the door.
Juliana stood alone on the beach, the wind whipping like a tempest around her. In the distance, the banshee still wailed, sending a shiver down her spine. She walked along the rocky shore and noticed a woman in a white dress wading out into the angry waves.
“Come back!” Juliana shouted, but the woman didn’t seem to hear her. Juliana ran, the sand grabbing at her feet, slowing her pace.
The woman was up to her waist in the ocean as Juliana reached the edge of the tide, the cold water jolting her to a standstill when it licked at her ankles. “Wait! Don’t go!”
The woman stopped and slowly turned around.
Juliana screamed, sitting up in her bedroom. Her pulse raced like a fox hunted by horses and hounds. She pulled her hair back from her face with shaky hands.
It was only a dream, she told herself.
But there wasn’t much comfort in that knowledge. Not for her. She went into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. The same woman from her dream, the one in the ocean, looked back at her.
Her arms broke out in goose bumps. The banshee was calling for her.
Benedict sipped his coffee, staring at the newspaper without reading a word. The Night Walker would be hidden until nightfall. This was his chance to plan his next move. Or maybe Colin had a moment of clear thinking and had accepted his offer. Perhaps he’d fled back to his own country already.
Doubtful. During the thousand years he’d butted heads with the Night Walker, Colin’s noble streak never faltered.
However he seemed different somehow. He’d stood and fought Benedict as a man, no hiding and shifting and flying. But why?
He took a bite of his scone, washing the bland bread down with his black coffee. Food held no taste or fulfillment for an aughisky. Human flesh sated his hunger, but he had to keep up appearances.
The woman from the pub had been a spontaneous kill. In truth, he hadn’t even been hungry, but after discovering the Night Walker inside Juliana’s florist shop, he’d walked away agitated. Only two things released his aggressions: killing and sex.
The woman from the pub had helped him with both.
He’d come through her doors for a pint to collect his thoughts, but he hadn’t been able to help overhearing her talking to an old man at the bar about her cousin, Juliana. It had seemed Colin, the outlander, was taking his Juliana on a date.
His. Due to her hearing loss, Juliana was immune to Benedict’s hypnotic voice. She was a rare challenge. A chance to win a prize without using his powers. This woman would love him of her own accord. He’d gained her trust through short visits in her shop, visits he had come to look forward to. She’d seemed to enjoy his company, as well, and not because she was under his spell. He’d earned her affection on his own merits. Talking to her had become a bright spot in his days.
And now the Night Walker had swooped in to steal
her from him.
When he’d left the pub with Juliana’s cousin, his intention had been to have sex with her to relieve his frustrations. That was all. But while he’d sated his appetite for physical pleasure, a plot had formed, a beautiful way to wound the Night Walker, and at the same time, turn Juliana against Colin.
He’d shifted his form and carried her cousin to a watery grave. A murder he would lead Juliana to believe Colin had committed.
Folding his newspaper, he threw away his coffee and stepped into the sun. Time to set his plan in motion.
Her dream left her so dazed that she almost didn’t notice Colin was gone. Almost. She sipped her tea at the table, rereading the note he’d left:
Please forgive me for leaving before you woke. I did not want to disrupt your dreams. I have business to take care of at the farm today, but I need to speak with you about Muriel’s disappearance, and… My angel, there is so much I need to tell you. Tonight. Wait up for me, and please be careful.
All my heart,
Colin
Muriel. She closed her eyes, sending up a prayer for her cousin’s safety. With a sigh, she read the note again. She had plenty to tell Colin, too, about her dreams. Again, he’d slipped away before she could warn him.
But after last night’s dream, she was fairly certain the banshee’s call was for her and her alone. Colin and Benedict hadn’t haunted this dream, just her spirit, surrendering to an angry ocean.
Taking another sip of tea, she forced the vision from her mind and focused on Colin’s note again. She tried not to obsess over the words my angel and all my heart, reminding herself that she only met him a few days ago. But after the intensity of their union, she was starting to believe her grandmother’s old stories about the heart recognizing its true mate right away.
How else could she explain the depth of emotions she’d experienced in his arms, the honesty in his eyes when he’d bared his scars? In turn, she’d trusted him with her voice, and he’d freed her of her inhibitions. She’d never experienced such a deep emotional connection. Ever.
