by Kiki Howell
It wasn’t all there was to his silence, though. She’d made it clear she wanted to focus on her work. He felt that if he told her he’d stopped fighting, she might think he was trying to trick her into getting back together. He wanted to be with her, he wanted that more than anything, but he didn’t want her to feel like she owed him for choosing her over fighting. If she was to be with him, it’d be because she wanted him as much as he wanted her, not because of some external condition he might have fulfilled without being asked to.
He was grateful she’d never asked him to choose between her and his work. He certainly wasn’t going to be a distraction to her work now.
Although he might be that without trying to, because it took her much longer to do that spell than she usually needed, and when she finally came out of the house and climbed back into the car she seemed a little flustered.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, one hand on the ignition but not turning on the engine quite yet.
“Everything’s fine,” she muttered.
Her tone made it clear that things weren’t fine at all, but he didn’t want to push her now when she already seemed a little upset. He started the car and drove down the cul-de-sac back to the street, asking, “Do you want me to get you home? It’s getting kind of late.”
“My car’s at your place,” she pointed out coolly.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow if you want. There’s no need to go back across town tonight and then drive to your—”
“Are you going to answer me at all?” she cut in. “I tell you I know you’re not fighting anymore, I ask why you haven’t told me, and you’re not going to say anything? Seriously?”
Jacob started to drive back toward his house, his mind roiling with every word he could have told Kirsten if he’d only dared. In the end, though, he had to at least give her an answer.
“I didn’t tell you,” he said, being careful to keep his eyes on the road, “because I didn’t want you to get the wrong impression.”
“How could I possibly get the wrong—”
“I didn’t stop because of you,” he interrupted her. “You wanting me to stop fighting had nothing to do with it. I stopped because of Gertruh and Taleeh. They’d have killed you, and for that reason alone I can’t be sorry I killed them. But they were kids, and I can’t forget that either. Every time I’m in front of a demon—”
His throat was tightening, making it harder to speak, so he stopped there and fell silent. He didn’t want her pity, nor did he want her to believe he was angling for her sympathy.
For long minutes, silence pressed upon the car, broken only by the rumbling of the engine. They were two blocks away from home when Kirsten’s hand rose from her lap and, shaking ever so slightly, came to rest on Jacob’s where he held on to the wheel. He spread out his fingers and her own pressed in between them, a gesture that had been familiar years ago, when they’d been together. Even after he’d turned into the driveway and parked his car behind hers, even after he’d taken his hand off the wheel to shift the gear in park and turn off the ignition, her fingers remained linked with his, now curled toward his palm. Neither of them made a move to get out of the car; doing so would have meant letting go of one another.
“I’m sorry,” were her first words.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I have a lot to be sorry for,” she retorted. “For one thing, I’m sorry I didn’t realize how much pain you’ve been in since we came back. I’ve always prided myself on being the person who knew you best in the world, but I didn’t even notice something was going on with you.”
For the first time since his admission, Jacob turned to look at her. She looked stricken, and her eyes gleamed a little too much. He wanted to brush her tears away, but contented himself with squeezing her fingers ever so gently.
“How could you notice?” he asked. “I’ve been doing my best to avoid you, haven’t I?”
She shook her head. “I still don’t understand why. I’m the one who was in that other... dimension with you. Who else could understand what happened better than I do? Who else cares about you as much as I do?”
The question was bittersweet, because Jacob would have liked nothing more than to go to her and share all this with her, but he’d never allowed himself that comfort.
“You made it clear when we came back that nothing had changed for you,” he said, finally letting go of her fingers and dropping his hand to unbuckle his seatbelt. “I didn’t want to distract you from your research.”
He didn’t wait for her to reply and stepped out of the car, walking around to get to the front door. Before he could get there, however, Kirsten’s hand closed over his elbow.
“I told you I have a lot to be sorry for,” she said, her voice tremulous.
He turned back to her. “What—” he started, but she wasn’t finished.
“When I said things would change after I figured out how to stop the demons... I remember I said ‘if’ I figure it out, but in my mind it was always ‘when.’ From the moment you told me about those diaries, I was sure, absolutely certain that all I had to do was take a look at them, study them for a few days, a couple of weeks at the most, and I’d have the answer.”
She shrugged self-deprecatingly.
“Maybe I’m arrogant,” she continued. “Or maybe it was because my magic never failed me before. Ever since I’ve known I could do magic, it has come easily to me. There was never a spell I couldn’t learn. Every time I tried to invent a new spell, I only needed a few tries to perfect it. And I was sure it’d be the same this time. I was sure it was a matter of time, and then you wouldn’t need to fight demons anymore, and I wouldn’t have to be so scared every time I knew you were out, and we could be together.”
Jacob’s throat felt very tight when he swallowed back the words rising to his lips. She wasn’t finished, and he wanted to hear the end of this before he misinterpreted it—before he took it as a sign that she’d changed her mind about being with him.
“But it’s not working,” she said after taking a deep breath. “I’ve read and read and re-read every word, I’ve studied everything she alluded to, and I don’t get it. She wasn’t trying to open a door, and I don’t know how anything she wrote could help me close it. Maybe... maybe I’m not smart enough. Or maybe there’s one piece of knowledge I need that will unlock everything and I haven’t found it yet. Or maybe there is no answer, maybe she did something else that she didn’t document and there’s no way for me to figure it out. But there’s something I do know. Maybe it’ll take me years to work it out, maybe I never will, but I don’t want to push you away any longer. I’ve missed you too much. I don’t want to miss you anymore when you’re right there, just a few feet away, and all I have to do is reach out to you.”
She dropped her eyes to her hand, still clenched around his arm, and slowly let go.
“That is...” she said, “if you still want... If I haven’t ruined everything.”
“WAS THAT JACOB’S CAR?”
Nicholas didn’t bother answering Andrew’s question with more than a quiet hum. He remained standing by the window, watching the driveway down below, and the classic car he and Jacob had brought back to running condition what felt like a lifetime ago.
“Well?” Andrew persisted, crossing the living room to come closer. “Was it him?”
“It was, yes.”
Now standing next to Nicholas, Andrew looked down as well, asking, “What are you looking at?”
“Just wondering how long it’ll take them to get out of that car.”
“Them? Oh, right. Kirsten was with him. Why do they... Here they are.”
Neither of them moved, and they continued to observe as Jacob and Kirsten came out of the car, Jacob starting for the door and Kirsten stopping him. If either of them had only looked up, they’d have seen the silhouettes standing behind the window. However, Nicholas thought, they both seemed too preoccupied to worry about their surroundings.
&n
bsp; They talked for a few moments—well, Kirsten did most of the talking. When she was done, Jacob stood still for a few seconds before cupping her face between his hands and kissing her.
“Took them long enough,” he muttered, pulling away from the window.
Andrew pulled the curtains closed.
“Much too long,” he agreed.
They looked at each other and, unbidden, the same grin split both their faces.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
TIME STOPPED. IT always did when Jacob kissed Kirsten. From their very first kiss when they’d been teens, it had always been the same—and always different from the few other kisses Jacob had shared with girls before her. The world narrowed down to this space they occupied together, bodies pressed close, arms wrapped around each other, lips dancing against each other. They were in a bubble, and Jacob had always thought this was where he wanted to spend the rest of his life.
Seconds, minutes, centuries later, they pulled apart and their eyes met, their arms still loosely wrapped around one another.
“I think I want to go home now,” Kirsten whispered.
Jacob’s soaring heart plummeted without warning. Home? She wanted to leave? After what she’d said, after the kiss they’d shared...
“Okay,” he said, trying not to show how disappointed—how hurt—he suddenly was.
He must have failed spectacularly because she smiled as she shook her head, raising a hand to stroke her thumb against his cheek.
“And you’ll be coming with me,” she said very gently.
Jacob blinked twice, afraid to hope too much—but desperate to hope nonetheless.
“I’m coming... to your place?” he asked, still unsure.
Kirsten’s smile widened just a hair. “Yes.”
“To... your bed?” he added, more quietly.
She leaned in a little closer and breathed a word against his lips. “Yes.”
He almost laughed in sheer relief.
“My bed is just up the steps,” he pointed out.
She snorted. “Right. And so are your parents. Sorry, but I know how good a vampire’s hearing is. I’d rather not have them listening in.”
This time, he did laugh, and tightened his arms around her again to hold her close.
“I’m sure they’d rather not have to hear it either,” he said, and kissed her again, because he could, because he was allowed to now, and he'd missed the feel of her lips on his for much too long.
She ended the kiss faster than before to ask, “So, are you coming home with me?”
He couldn’t manage another word, but a nod seemed to be enough. Together, they walked over to her car. Jacob’s heart seemed to beat to the rhythm of her name, and as she drove them back to her place, he couldn’t help looking at her—staring at her, really—as though if he looked away she might disappear and this might turn out to be nothing more than a dream.
He’d had that dream many, many times over the years. Mornings had come too fast and with too much disappointment. Maybe she understood, because she reached for his hand and gripped it all the way home. She only let go to park and get out of the car. She held out her hand to him as soon as they were both out, and didn’t release it again even after they were inside her apartment.
This felt odd, Jacob thought; like their first time all over again, and never mind that they were much older. When he looked at her, he wondered if she could feel it, too—and maybe she did because, like back then, she suddenly seemed a little shy. She wasn’t hesitating, not any more than he was, but she had to realize like Jacob did the importance of the step they were about to take.
He had no words to offer her, not right now, or at least nothing he hadn’t said before. So he kissed her again, slowly, tenderly, putting years of longing in the caress of his mouth upon hers, or the delicate touch of his tongue when she parted her lips. He couldn’t have said which of them started to sway, but soon they were dancing in the middle of her living room, following the beat of an imaginary music, as slow as a lullaby—or was that the beat of their hearts?
When she broke the kiss, she smiled, no longer so shy or hesitant, and squeezed his hand once before guiding him to her bedroom.
All he could do was hope that this time it wasn’t a dream. If it was, he never wanted to wake up.
IT FELT LIKE THEY WERE teens again.
They’d waited a long time before exchanging more than a few kisses and tentative caresses, always above clothes, always pretty mild. They’d never talked about why they were waiting, but it had seemed clear to Kirsten: back then, she’d been sure she’d spend the rest of her life with Jacob, so why rush? They’d get there sooner or later, when the time was right.
This was the same thing, more or less, except that Kirsten couldn’t quite decide: had they been waiting and, consciously or not, anticipating this moment since they’d come back from the demons’ world, or had it been much longer than that—all the way back to the moment they had parted? Had either of them ever truly believed they wouldn’t end up together again someday? She knew she’d tried not to think about it, but it had always been there, a distant possibility. And if Jacob hadn’t looked for another relationship, it hinted that he’d thought or at least hoped there was a chance.
And that chance was right here, in front of them. All they had to do was seize it.
She took his hand and led him to her bedroom, making a conscious effort to leave her nerves at the door. She might feel like she was a teen again, but she was anything but, she knew what she was doing, and there would be no regrets, no looking back. From now on, there’d only be moving forward for the two of them.
She pushed the jacket off his shoulders and threw it onto the chair in the corner of the room along with her own. Her fingers were shaking ever so slightly when she started undoing his shirt buttons, but his own shook too hard to work the tiny buttons on her blouse. She took his hands into hers and kissed his fingers gently.
“Hey. Why so nervous?”
He shook his head. “I’m not nervous, I just...” He laughed a little. “Okay, yeah, nervous. Verging on terrified.”
It wasn’t only his hands that were shaking, she realized. It was all of him. She’d only ever seen him so affected once: the night they’d first made love. Everything seemed to remind her of that night—and she had a sudden insight as to why.
“You haven’t been with anyone, have you?” She squeezed his fingers between hers. “Since we broke up. You haven’t...”
She couldn’t even finish the question. It felt too enormous. She’d been gone for three years. She’d never expected him to wait for her—she’d never hinted that he should. And yet, there he was, trembling in front of her, looking at her as though she were the only woman in the world. To him, maybe she was.
“There was never anyone else I wanted to get close to,” he murmured, and leaned in again for another kiss.
Soft and gentle, it lingered as they caressed each other’s tongues. Kirsten let go of his hands and started unbuttoning again, although this time she focused on her own blouse. In seconds, it was falling down her arms and to the floor. Jacob’s expression, a mix of awe and desire, had her throat tightening with emotion.
He hadn’t asked if she’d been celibate as well. Truth was, she’d stood in front of a couple of other men like this, watched their eyes on her, and it had always felt... different. Not wrong, maybe, but definitely off. There had always been something missing, and only now could she admit to herself what that something was: neither of her ‘rebound guys’ had been Jacob.
And now he was here. They both were.
She went back to unbuttoning his shirt, and this time her hands were shaking harder than Jacob’s had been. He noticed and grinned at her. She grinned back, and even chuckled. What a pair they made!
The tension broke a little with that chuckle, and they managed to divest each other of the rest of their clothes. Falling into bed with Jacob felt like coming home; feeling his hands on her as they relearned the
contours of her body, feeling the goose bumps on his skin as she rediscovered the smooth, hard planes of his, all of it felt right. She touched every inch of him, and he returned the favor, branding her with his fingertips while murmuring words of love against her lips.
She never wanted to be apart from him again, not for anything, not even to feel his mouth sliding down her body. Later, he could devour her all he wanted, as he’d always loved to do. For now, when he tried to move down her body, she curled a leg around him and kept him in place, his cock nestled against her stomach, his chest pressed tight against her breasts.
“Let me,” he asked against her lips. “Please.”
She shook her head and let her hand drift down to his cock again.
“Later,” she said, running her palm over the slick head and spreading the precome down over the shaft. “Right now I want to look at you. Kiss you.” She did just that, a chaste press of lips. “Feel you against me. Inside me.”
His eyes blazed, and her breath caught in her throat. He kissed her again, invading her mouth and claiming, exploring every last bit of it, the same way his fingers were doing much lower, teasing her nether lips then slipping into her heat.
“God you’re so wet,” he mumbled against her mouth.
When she said, “I want you,” it was both an explanation and a plea.
Letting go of the burning length of his cock was difficult, but she forced herself to reach back for the night table behind her, and the unused box of condoms within. She’d merely been pragmatic when she’d bought them; now she was glad they didn’t have to stop because of this.
Between the two of them and despite their febrile hands, they managed to tear the box open, pull out a condom and roll it on him. Then he was settling between her thighs as she clutched his shoulders, the tip of his cock teasing her though without entering her.
“Do it,” she said, and the demand sounded like begging.
“I can’t,” Jacob said, breathless, pressing kisses all over her face. “Kirsten, love, I can’t last, I’m not going to last, I want to make it good for you but—”
