by L. M. Pruitt
It proved Gillian had been right. Nothing good could come of anything personal with Williams. Business, and nothing else, remained between us. The majority of which involved seeing his brother pay for every crime he had ever committed, and burned in hell for all eternity for what he did to my family.
“Are you sure you want to do this tonight, Jude?” Theo looked as tired as I felt but he was still here. I’d tried and failed to convince him to go to sleep. He’d stared at me and I’d given up.
I nodded and took a deep breath before sinking down to sit cross legged on the carpet in front of the fireplace. “Do you really think Gillian would want me to wait until later?”
Theo laughed, stretching out to lie on his back between me and the fire. I scooted my feet over so they weren’t right next to his head and braced my back against the loveseat. Taking another deep breath, I slid my finger under the lip of the envelope to break the wax seal. Little slivers of red fell in my lap and I brushed them off absently before pulling the paper free. I glanced down as something more substantial fell into my lap. Setting Gillian’s letter down on the floor next to me, I retrieved the object.
“It’s a key,” Theo murmured, his face curious as I held the metal up, trying to get a better look in the dim light. After a moment’s study, I put it back on the table behind me. I probably wouldn’t lose the key.
I picked Gillian’s letter up again, unfolding the thick sheets of paper. They weren’t normal paper, but creamy, soft. I took a deep breath, and began to read aloud.
Jude, and most likely Theo.
If you’re reading this, then I’m dead. Most likely because Hart, or one of his baboons, has killed me. No point in prettying up the truth. By now you’ll know my wishes for my laying out and interment, and I expect you to follow them to the letter. Theo, if Jude starts to cause too many problems, you are to step in and take care of things. You’re a great deal less likely to rub people the wrong way than my granddaughter, even when she’s not trying to be a pill.
By now you’ll also know the truth about your family, Jude. The whole truth, and not the version I’ve been forced to live with since your father’s death. I failed in my duties as both the leader of the Covenant and as a mother. My guilt for denying Martha her father caused me to demand less of Martha in a number of areas that ultimately led to her downfall.
The Council decreed since I had failed in both of those duties, I would not be allowed to interfere in any way in your development, unless or until it became a matter of life and death. Your magical development. I would have no say in your non-magical development, even when you were forced to take to the streets. The few times I was able to send you money, those who delivered it were never seen again. The Council prior to this one was a great deal more stringent in everything.
So stringent, they decreed from the moment Martha left the city, she and her child were dead to me. My failure with Martha would not be visited on the next generation. Most have either died or simply vanished, either moving away or becoming victims in some way. But Lisette remains and she has enough power to ensure I not go against the prior Council’s wishes.
Williams and Hart. You’ll know the truth about them now, and hopefully understand some if not all of my concerns. Concerns which lessened when you fell on your ass in front of Theo, but still remain. I must believe you’ll choose the safest path, and realize safe is not dull. Williams is a good man, but he is not the man you need on your path.
The greatest thing to come from your parents was you. I’ve no doubt I could’ve done a better job with Martha, both as her mother and as her mentor. But I wonder if I had, would you be as magnificent as you are, and will be?
I regret we lost so much time with each other, and what time we had was overshadowed by the urgency of the situation. I regret you were forced to live a harsh, unforgiving life, and that I’ve left you at a time when you desperately need all the help you can gather.
I do not regret the person you are, and will no doubt become.
Do not let my death stop you from your destiny. You were meant to lead the Covenant. To end this war. To protect this city.
And dammit, you were meant to give me great-grandchildren, one of which should bear my name.
My voice died off, the only sound the crackle of logs in the fireplace. I turned and twisted, putting the letter on the table behind me with the key. I didn’t really own a memento box, or a drawer to put special items in. I’d never really had anything absolutely necessary to save.
Now I did.
“It’s weird.”
I frowned. “You want to narrow your statement down a little? Because it’s not like we don’t have a lot to choose from here.”
“It’s weird, knowing my great-grandmother is an evil, heinous bitch, and your dead grandmother is doing her damnedest to make sure we hook up.” Theo didn’t seem concerned he’d committed a few venial sins. He looked absolutely relaxed. Not tired anymore, just relaxed.
“Okay, I’ll give you that one. It’s really, really weird.” I shifted around until I could lie beside him, curling up and welcoming his warmth.
His heart beat slow and steady under my ear and I began to drift off. The light trail of Theo’s fingernails up and down my back had me snuggling closer.
“Go ahead and sleep, Jude. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Either I believed him, or was really frickin’ tired, because I didn’t take more than a few breaths to conk me out. The embarrassing kind of out, where you can’t really remember what you dreamed or even if you did. I call it embarrassing because you usually woke up next to a puddle of drool, someone shook you to stop the snoring, or you’re talking to yourself.
I woke while Theo carried me up the back staircase. I opened my eyes and looked around blearily. “Wheiremall?”
“English please, Jude. Although, to be honest, I’m not sure what language you were speaking.” Theo carried me like I weighed next to nothing, but I’d had more than one occasion to get up close and personal before tonight, so I knew the boy had muscles to spare. I swallowed hard, trying to clear my mind, which remained more than a little sleep fogged. Being so close to Theo didn’t help matters. “I asked why we were at the mall. I thought we were on an escalator.”
Theo paused for a moment when we got to the top of the stairs and gave me a curious look. “You have really odd dreams, don’t you?”
“Define odd.” The likelihood of anyone being on our floor at the moment was low, but I whispered anyway. Something about Theo always stirred up innocent schoolgirl longings deep inside.
“That’s alright. I always get the urge to play the big, bad wolf around you, so I guess we’re even.”
One day, my mouth would learn to work with my brain instead of without. “I’m not wearing a red riding hood.”
“No, you’re wearing an absurdly sexy pair of pajamas. I’ve never really had an attraction to frogs before, so I’ll admit to being slightly weirded out.” Theo pushed open the door to my room and used his back to shut it. He carried me the final few steps to the bed and stopped, as if deciding something. Finally he let me down, easing me out of his grip. “I’d planned to let you drop and bounce, since you’re wearing those frogs, but decided not to.”
He turned to leave and I grabbed his hand. I shifted around until I knelt on the bed, facing him. My move put his mouth right at eyelevel, which did funny things to my stomach.
My mind cleared for the first time since Gillian’s death. Crystal clear.
“In fairytales, when you kiss a frog, you get a princess.”
“Close. It’s a prince, but I get what you’re saying. Maybe.” His hands were rough, the calluses made my skin tingle where they brushed against my face. My breathing picked up. His mouth met mine – soft, hesitant, unsure.
Theo drew back, and his exaggerated frown made me bite my lip to keep from giggling. “You’re still very froggy.” He kissed me again, less hesitant this time, but still soft and sweet like a fairytale kiss
would be.
My hands rested lightly on his hips and I felt his heat through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. I tilted my head, sighing when Theo’s mouth grazed over my jaw, down my neck. Back and forth across my shoulder his scruff whispered over my skin and made me shiver.
“Maybe it only works if you believe in fairytales.” Theo’s voice rumbled and made things low inside me tighten. This slow, lazy approach all but melted my bones away. I swayed lightly and Theo’s hands steadied me.
“Maybe I do. Maybe you make me believe in fairytales.”
He drew back and my eyes were steady as they met his full of questions gaze. “Theo. I’m saying yes.”
“Jude….”
“I’m saying yes.”
Theo’s warm hand rested against my back, in the stretch of bare skin between top and bottom. “‘If I profane with my unworthiest hand,’” his voice trailed off, mouth pressing soft kisses against my neck and shoulder.
I might not have gotten all of Shakespeare’s tragedies, but I’d got this one. “‘Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hands too much. For saints have hands that pilgrim’s hands do touch.’”
We were moving backward, a tiny bit of distance apart, and then Theo covered me. I sighed at his warmth pressing down on my body. His breath blew in my ear, and I shuddered. His whisper seemed to flow through me. “‘Have not saints lips?’”
I moved restlessly under him, unsure what I wanted, but sure I wanted something. “‘Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.’” I bit back a moan when he nipped my shoulder, a thrill of pleasure shooting through me. His voice sounded as rough as mine though his hands remained whisper soft, trailing back and forth across the jumping and twitching muscles of my stomach.
“‘Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.’” He gave me another longer, more drugging kiss until every part of me turned soft and liquid. “‘Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.’”
Thank God there were only a few lines to go. I didn’t have any brain cells left. My hands trembled where they stroked the small curls at the nape of his neck. “‘Then have my lips the sin that they have took.’” I pulled him closer, until every breath he let out, I breathed back in. It was heady, intoxicating.
Sheer heaven flavored with Theo.
“‘Sin from thy lips? Oh, trespass sweetly urged.’” My fingers slid up to clench tighter in his hair. Only one more line left. Thank you, Mary, Jesus and Joseph. My heart thudded double time, nerves on edge.
“‘Give me my sin again.’” He kissed me hard, forcefully, claiming. Theo’s hand trembled slightly while sliding the thin bright green camisole strap down my shoulder. His mouth followed the path of his fingers and I shifted under him, my restlessness growing.
“You’ll stay with me, then?”
“Always, Jude. Always.” His tongue slid under the loosened edge of my top to trace over my breast, teeth nipping lightly at the delicate flesh. Whether from the sudden change of gentle to not – because it was Theo or just because – my muscles tensed, then relaxed until I lay boneless beneath him.
“Sweet Christ, Jude.” Desire harshened Theo’s voice. “I had a mind to take my time, but not when you do that.” His hands were a wonderful combination of gentle and rough. Shaking slightly, they pulled the clothes from my body. I tried to help, making a move to raise my hips, but my knees shook and made such a simple thing virtually impossible.
“I think you did it.” My voice matched the rest of me, slow and slurred, like I had taken some amazing drug. Maybe I had. “I want you, Theo.”
“Well, thank the Lord and all the saints.” Humor, even now, and it made everything so uniquely Theo. My fingers brushed bare skin when they touched him. Somehow he’d gotten rid of my clothes and his and I’d barely moved a muscle. His body pressed against mine, blazing hot, and melted away the last lingering bit of cold inside of me. Not only physically, but every other way.
“I love you.”
Theo froze in the instant before he slid inside. I opened my eyes, and found him staring at me with almost frightening intensity. “Do you mean it, Jude? Don’t say the words if you don’t mean them.”
I fisted my hands in his hair, bringing his face within an inch of mine. “I love you, Theophile Michael Rossiere.”
I gasped, eyes wide, when he pushed inside. I definitely needed to pay more attention when people got undressed around me. I rode the edge of pain, where the feeling changed if you weren’t careful.
“Christ Jesus, Jude.” Apparently I wasn’t the only one questioning the fit here. He lowered his forehead to rest against mine, and I pressed my lips lightly to his cheeks. He lifted his face and all the hunger he’d kept tamped down lay bare for me to see. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I’m not sure….”
“I trust you.” And I did. I had no doubts about Theo. “I trust you.”
Taking my mouth again, he began to move slowly and excruciatingly thorough. I tried to hold back, but he wouldn’t let me.
“Go over,” he murmured in my ear, never changing his pace. “Go over for me.” How could I resist when he asked? Not long after I came for him, Theo moved quicker, deeper. Not much, but just enough to feel myself building again, so soon after the last orgasm.
I turned my face to find his mouth with mine. My hands slid off his slick back to clutch at the sweat dampened sheets. I opened my eyes to find him watching me, fingers tangled in my hair spread across the pillows. He raised his mouth from mine, breath shuddering in and out, our pulses pounding almost in unison.
“Say it again, Jude.”
No hesitation. “I love you.”
He sighed and gave one final thrust, deeper than any before. It shocked my system, jolted me completely, and through the crash of my own body I recognized the shudders which ran through his. He slid down to rest his head in the curve between neck and shoulder, his breathing as labored as mine.
“I love you, Jude. Now and forever.” After long moments he chuckled.
“What?”
“Do you think that if Gillian had known what reading her letter would lead to, she’d have delivered it sooner?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It didn’t rain, despite forecasts to the contrary. Theo said not even the elements would mess with Gillian’s final resting plans. Given her temper, I’d agreed with him. I could see Gillian raising hell if things didn’t go the way she’d planned.
Now I knew where I got my stubborn streak from.
I don’t know how much sleep Theo got, but I slept most of the day. Elizabeth didn’t even come in to wake me until around one. I’d taken a single glance at her face and decided to do whatever she wanted. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize she and Rian hadn’t made up from their argument. I was going to do my best to be the target of as little anger as possible.
Gillian had picked out my clothes for the day, with another little note reminding me not to argue. It was so little to ask considering all we’d lost. Even if Gillian had picked the ugliest thing in the world I’d still have worn it. But Gillian knew me better than I’d ever know her, and she’d chosen another snazzy little suit, this one a purple dark it looked almost black.
“Gillian always said you wore too much black. With your hair, you resemble the original Goth pretender.” Elizabeth’s voice broke into my thoughts, and I glanced up as I pulled the zipper shut on my boots. She flushed and probably would have apologized if I hadn’t spoken.
“Izzy always said I wore too much black, too.” I brushed my hair back from my face, turning my head side to side. “I could always go blonde.”
“Only if you want a serious fight on your hands.” Elizabeth planted her hands on her hips at my snort of disbelief. “Jude, I’ll beat you myself if you show up with blonde hair. Not to mention what Theo would do.”
“What I’d do about what?” I looked in the mirror to find Theo leaning against the door frame, as comfortable in his black suit as in jeans, or nothing at all.
&nbs
p; “Jude made mention of bleaching her hair.” Elizabeth sounded disgusted. I’d thought out loud, nothing more. Something I would apparently not do again in the future.
“Jude’s hair is her own.” Theo had his easy smile in place when he crossed the room to stand behind me and rested his hands on my shoulders. He ran his fingers through my hair, twirling pieces until the strands seemed to float down my back and over my breasts. “Although why she would want to change something which makes her unique, I have no idea.”
“Clever,” I murmured, catching one of his hands with mine. “I suppose if I said something about cutting it, a real battle would break out.” He stood me up, straightening the suit jacket. Elizabeth watched in silence, although I caught her biting her lip out of the corner of my eye.
“Smart woman. If you get tired of brushing it, I’ll take over the chore.” Theo took a deep breath, and I admired the way the suit moved with every little movement. “It’s nearly three. We need to leave.”
“Shouldn’t I pull my hair up? Aren’t you supposed to be formal at a funeral?”
Elizabeth spoke up, sure of herself once more. “Gillian never wore her hair up. Not once that I can remember.”
Theo nodded, and I smiled slightly. “Well then, I don’t see why anyone has a reason to complain.”
I heard Elizabeth muttering as she left the room ahead of us. It sounded suspiciously like, “And that’s ever stopped anyone before?”
St. Louis Cathedral is always beautiful, even when the day is absolute crap, and it’s huge, which was a really good thing. Even in such an immense space, Gillian’s Funeral Mass was standing room only. There were a few murmurs and whispers when Theo, Rian, Elizabeth and Celia accompanied me into the pew set aside for family. I stood in the center aisle, scanned the entire chapel and the crowd settled down.
