“Not that I know of. Although he could, I guess. The next closest cabin is a ways off. My cabin sits on about twenty acres.” Pete gathered packages from the car. “Tramp shows up and hangs out for a few days and then leaves when he’s had enough.” Pete shrugged one shoulder. “It reminds me of that dog from the Disney movie, Lady and the Tramp. Hence the name.”
***
The sun set as Pete put the last of his fishing tackle in the shed out back, but the snow continued to fall. He took stock of his gun and ammunition supply as well. He hoped he wouldn’t need it, but knowing it was there made him feel better.
Tramp bounded happily through the snow as they headed back to the cabin, and when they got to the back porch, the dog shook off the snow as Pete kicked off his boots. His grandmother always hated it when they tracked mud or snow into the cabin, and even though she wasn’t here to give him an earful, he made sure to follow her rules.
Pete grabbed an old towel from the trunk on the porch and wiped Tramp’s paws off. The dog stood still and let him clean his feet, which always surprised Pete. Maybe Marianna was right. Maybe old Tramp had a family somewhere on the mountain and used the cabin as a vacation spot as much as Pete did.
When he opened the back door to the cabin, he was hit with the unexpected aroma of something delicious cooking. The only thing more surprising was seeing Marianna standing at the stove stirring food in the cast-iron skillet he’d almost cracked his head open with earlier. Her long wavy hair was tied in a ponytail, and even wearing a simple sweater and jeans, she was the sexiest creature he’d ever seen in his life.
Even more striking to Pete was how right it felt to have her here at the cabin. He’d never brought a woman here until today because he’d never met anyone who’d meant enough. He’d dated and slept with plenty of women, but never for more than a few months. Eventually, the when-are-we-taking-this-to-the-next-level conversation would come up, and that’s when things would end.
Pete always made it clear that he wasn’t interested in anything serious, and until now, he meant it. He watched as she moved around the small space with odd familiarity. It was as though she’d done it a thousand times, and that was unsettling. She fit. She fit with him, this cabin… his life.
When did it happen? When did she slip seamlessly into his life and his heart?
“You’re letting the cold air in,” she said without turning around.
“Oh, sorry.” Pete shook his head and shut the door. How long had he been standing there staring? “I didn’t think I was outside that long.” He leaned on the small island and took a deep breath. “It smells great in here.”
“I hope you don’t mind, but I was famished, and based on your comment about your cooking skills, I figured that we might starve to death if you tried to cook.”
“A solid assumption.” Tramp trotted into the kitchen and lay at Marianna’s feet. “Looks like you have a fan.”
“It’s not me he’s a fan of.” She tossed Tramp a piece of chicken. “It’s the food.” Marianna smiled and glanced down at Tramp. “But I’m a fan of his either way.”
“Oh yeah?” Pete grabbed a beer out of the fridge, closed the door, and leaned against it while he continued to watch her. “Why is that?”
“I like dogs,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe having an animal in the house makes me feel at home?” She shut off the burner, turned to face him, and leaned one hip against the counter. “Does that sound kind of nuts?”
“No,” Pete replied. “It sounds kind of right.”
He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and her brown eyes widened as his skin brushed over hers. Her breathing quickened, and she nibbled nervously on her lower lip as he trailed the back of his fingers along her cheek. She seemed vulnerable and unsure of herself, but for the life of him, Pete couldn’t figure out why.
She may not have her Amoveo abilities, but she was still beautiful, smart, and sexy. He wanted to kiss her again—hell, he wanted to do a lot more than kiss her—but Tramp barked and jumped between them before he had a chance. Pete dropped his hand and laughed as Tramp nuzzled Marianna.
Cockblocked by the dog.
Pete smirked and shook his head. “You really need to work on your timing, buddy.”
“Don’t be mad at poor Tramp. He’s hungry.” Marianna gave Pete a scolding look and scratched the dog’s ears lovingly. “We should eat before it gets cold.” Marianna gently pushed Tramp down and grabbed some dishes from the cabinet.
“Right,” Pete said as he took the plates and place mats from her. “Wouldn’t want the food to get cold, would we, Tramp?” Pete gave the dog a look of disapproval when Marianna’s back was turned, but he could swear that animal was laughing. Tramp barked in total agreement.
Marianna offered a bowl of rice and cooked chicken to Tramp before joining Pete at the table. They ate mostly in silence, and he knew it was because neither knew where to begin. How do you start the I-guess-we’re-mates conversation anyway? He still wasn’t sure whether she sympathized with the Purists. What if she did? What if she couldn’t really love him?
Since he had no damned idea, he let the conversations about the weather, Tramp, and the food dominate. The tough conversation would come eventually for better or for worse, and at the moment he was simply enjoying her.
***
Pete couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a meal that good, but it had to have been cooked by his grandmother. He threw his napkin on the table and sat back in his chair as he resisted the urge to unbutton his jeans.
“Enjoyed it?” Marianna laughed and took a sip of her beer as she looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You’re dying to unbutton your jeans, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Pete rubbed his belly and laughed. “Am I that transparent?”
“I have a brother, remember?” She rested her chin on folded hands and kept those big brown eyes locked on him as the smile vanished. “And, no, you aren’t transparent at all. But I guess you never really were, were you? Even when I had my Amoveo abilities and could read energy signatures, you managed to keep things from me until just before the infamous binding powder incident.”
“I think it’s time for that conversation we’ve been avoiding.” Pete’s jaw clenched, and he saw the tension settle in her shoulders.
Weariness crept over her features, and Pete scolded himself for being so dense. The woman had been through the ringer, and even after everything that had transpired, she had made him dinner. What a dope. The least he could do is let her take a breather before he started a difficult conversation.
“But first,” he said, pushing himself away from the table. “I’m going to clean up, and you’re going to take a shower and relax.”
A smile crept back to her lips. “You’re going to clean up?”
“Yes,” Pete said as he started gathering the dirty dishes. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” She leaned back and watched him through serious eyes. “My father wasn’t big for helping around the house and was always happy to let my mother do it. Dante’s like you though. I watch how solicitous he is with Kerry, and I can’t for the life of me figure out how he got that way.” She let out a harsh laugh. “He sure didn’t learn it from our father.”
“Maybe he gets it from your mom?” Pete washed the dishes in the sink and set them in the drying rack.
“Probably.” She smiled faintly as she spoke of her mother. “My mother is thoughtful, kind, and generous. I often wondered how and why the universe paired the two of them up. I loved my father, but he was a difficult man, and it was his way or the highway. Daddy was a big fan of everyone fitting into their proper role.”
“What roles?” Pete shut off the water and wiped the counters while hanging on every word she uttered.
“Mother is the caretaker. Dante is the good son—well, at least until he found Kerry—I assume that Dante told you my father was a Purist?”
“Yes.” Pete dried the pots off with a towel. “Dante menti
oned it, but he’s never discussed it with me at length. That seems like a bit of a sore subject.”
“Oh, it’s sore as hell. My father tried to kill Samantha—Malcolm’s mate, who is also a hybrid—so you can imagine how absolutely irate he would’ve been to find out his own son was mating with one. And me?” Bitterness edged her words. “Well, I was the sweet little daughter who thought the sun rose and set on her father and that he could do no wrong. My job was to look pretty, find my Amoveo mate, and make him pure-blood grandchildren. Like Daddy always said, we all have a role to play. Imagine how disheartened he’d be with the latest developments.”
Silence hung heavily in the air as he waited for her to continue. Her sadness at disappointing her father stabbed at Pete like a knife. Even though they hadn’t said it, they both knew that she didn’t have an Amoveo mate, and there wouldn’t be any pure-blood Amoveo coming from her… or him.
He glanced over his shoulder, and his throat tightened at the look of sadness on her face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she responded without looking at him. Marianna got up and went toward the bedroom with Tramp at her heels. “I’m going to take your advice and grab a shower, but then I’m going to bed. I know we have to talk, but I’m just too tired tonight.” She turned to face him, and that stone-cold resolute look he saw last night was back. “We never did discuss the sleeping arrangements.”
“I’ll take the couch… for tonight,” he said with a wink.
“Yes. You will.” Her dark eyes glittered with determination, and it was clear that the battle of wills was back. “We can talk about this mate business tomorrow. You didn’t sign up for this mess, and I don’t expect you to get wrapped up any further than you already have.”
Before he could respond, Marianna disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door. Wrapped up any further? Hell, he was already gone.
***
“Let’s go, Marianna,” Pete said impatiently. “Tramp and I were up this morning long before you were, and we’re ready to get out there and do some ice fishing. It’s noon already.”
She’d taken her sweet time getting up and dressed. He knew it was one enormous stall tactic to keep from going fishing, but there was no way he was letting her get out of this. He really wasn’t doing it to bust her chops, but because he wanted to share it. He doubted that the Amoveo spent a lot of time ice fishing, and he figured it was a human experience that he could show her.
“I can’t believe you’re making me go fishing in the freezing cold,” Marianna grumbled as she pulled on a second sweater, coat, hat, and gloves. “We have a perfectly nice cabin to stay warm and toasty in.”
“Maybe.” He tugged her knit hat over her ears. “But it’ll feel even warmer after we come in from our little excursion.”
Marianna and Tramp followed him down to the lake through the layer of fresh snow, but something caught the dog’s eye, and he raced into the woods to chase it.
“Where’s he going?” Marianna wondered.
“Beats the hell out of me.” Pete shrugged and handed her one of the fishing poles. “Like I said, he comes and goes as he pleases.”
When they reached the edge of the lake, Marianna stopped dead in her tracks and watched Pete warily as he walked onto the ice.
“Where the hell are you going?” She looked at the ice-covered lake with trepidation and tried to keep her teeth from chattering. “You can’t walk on that. You’re going to fall in.”
“No, I’m not.” Pete walked over and extended his hand. “And neither are you. Come on. The area we’re walking on is totally safe. This ice is several inches thick and has been frozen like this for weeks already.”
Marianna took his hand and gingerly stepped onto the ice. She kept a death grip on him all the way to the tent situated twenty yards from the edge. Pete unzipped the black tent door and let Marianna in first.
He zipped it closed behind them and smiled as he watched her survey the small space. Shivering, she sat on one of the stools and glanced at the hole in the ice. “I don’t see any fish.”
“Well, they don’t exactly jump up and into the tent.” Pete sat on the other stool and made quick work of baiting the hook on her pole. “Here you go. That’s a jigger pole, so what you do is drop the line and yank from time to time—you jigger it.” He took it and demonstrated. “See, it’s easy.”
Marianna took the fishing rod while he baited the hook on his. He dropped his line into the hole in front of his seat and jiggered in silence.
“This is quite the setup out here,” she said, while she popped the line up and down a few more times. “Did you put this all up this morning?”
“Nope. A local guy sets it up, maintains it, and breaks it down every year.” Pete reached over, unzipped one of the tent windows, and peered outside. “I just had to come out and break the ice in the fishing wells.”
“It’s actually kind of warm in here, and I’ve stopped shivering incessantly.” She yanked the pole and made a face that made Pete want to bust out laughing, but he didn’t. Somehow, he figured that would get him a fishing rod to the face. “Maybe it’s just the absence of the biting wind.”
“Solar heat,” he said, referencing the panels on the roof.
“Impressive,” she said with a nod. “I’m surprised that—”
She stopped midsentence as her line tugged downward, the unmistakable pull of a fish.
“Oh my God,” she shrieked with a wide smile. “I think I got one.” Giddy with the excitement of her first catch, she looked at Pete with wide brown eyes. “What—what do I do?”
“Stay calm, and reel him in.” Smiling at her childlike joy, he put his rod in the holder next to his chair and coached her along. “That’s it, nice and easy. If you go too fast, he could get away.”
“This is awesome,” she shouted as she reeled the line in slowly. The skinny pole bent in protest as the fish struggled to break free. Marianna’s face was stamped with concentration as she reeled in her prize. “It’s heavy.” She glanced at Pete and grinned. “I bet it’s a beast.”
The dark shadow of the fish became visible through the ice as Marianna reeled it closer. Pete took off his gloves and got ready to help her land it. She reeled the line, leaned back, and in one last pull the fish popped through the surface, and Pete scooped it up.
“Oh my gosh! I did it.” Marianna giggled as she stared at the perch that wiggled helplessly in Pete’s hands. “I caught a fish!”
“You sure did, and it’s quite the beast,” Pete said smiling as he held up her catch. “I’m not sure if we’ll be able to carry this bad boy to the cabin.”
The two of them looked at the fish, then at each other, and burst out laughing. Her beast of a catch couldn’t have been more than six inches long.
“I think we better let this monster go.” Pete removed the hook from the fish’s mouth and held it closer, so Marianna could have one last look. “Any last words before I let him loose on the lake?”
“No,” she said, still giggling.
The fish slipped into the water with a plop, and Pete turned his attention to Marianna. The smile lit up her whole face, and seeing it made him grin like some kind of lovesick kid.
“That was awesome,” she said breathlessly. Her twinkling brown eyes latched onto his. “Can we do it again?”
“You bet your sweet ass we can,” Pete said as he picked up her rod and put more bait on the hook. “So, not as boring as you thought it would be?”
“Fine.” She sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “You were right.”
“That’s music to my ears.” Pete grinned broadly and handed her the newly baited rod. “See, even a simple human like me can teach an Amoveo beauty like you a thing or two.”
“I don’t think humans are bad, Pete.” Marianna’s smile faltered. “And by the way, you are anything but simple.”
“Maybe,” Pete said warily. He could tell that he was dancing around a land mine situation. One wrong word, and she was going to
freak out and bolt to the cabin. “I’m not trying to insult you, Marianna. I’m saying that being human isn’t a death sentence. I’ve had a great life, and I’ve managed it without shapeshifting, telepathy, or any of the stuff you guys can do.” Pete leaned his elbows on his knees and looked at the fishing well. “Besides, you’ll have all your powers back in a few weeks anyway. This is just temporary.”
“No,” she said quietly. “It’s not.”
Chapter 8
“What are you talking about?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “What do you mean it’s not temporary? I told you the binding powder only lasts for about a month.”
“I’m not talking about the powder.” She shivered and zipped her coat to her neck. It looked like now was as good a time as any to address the elephant in the room. “It’s… us.”
“Us?” Pete’s dark eyebrows furrowed as he stared at her intently.
She marveled at the color of his eyes. They were the same color as the ice in the fishing hole—iridescent blue. He’d shaved this morning, but the shadow of a beard was already beginning to form.
“Yes.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You are human.”
“Yeah, that part I got.”
“When a full-blooded Amoveo mates with another Amoveo or a hybrid, then there are side effects for both individuals.” She studied Pete carefully, but he was riveted to what she was saying. “Their powers are amplified, they become far stronger, and they age slowly, almost imperceptibly.”
“But I’m human,” Pete murmured. “So none of that would happen, would it?”
“We believe that when a human bonds with an Amoveo, then the Amoveo’s powers fade, and they age and die with their human mates. Up until recently, we didn’t know it was possible to mate with humans.” Marianna bit her lip. “I think, once we’re mated, I would become human just as I would if I’d never found a mate. At the very least, even if I aged slowly… you wouldn’t. You will still age and die, and then when you die… I will as well. I will live like a human and be considered a member of the Vasullus family, the other Amoveo who’ve lost their mates.” Her voice wavered. “Or the ones who never found mates at all.”
Undone (The Amoveo Legend) Page 9
