The Highwayman

by Michele Hauf

She hadn’t been at all frightened to see his shadow upon waking. What a strange dream he must have seen. She only remembered the drowning part. But she’d never had portentous dreams so she dismissed it as a nightmare.

  Maybe that was why he seemed so concerned for her now.

  “It was just a nightmare,” she offered, smiling up at him.

  He nodded. “I shouldn’t have intruded on your dreams again. I’m sorry. It was unavoidable.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I’m not angry. But I don’t want you to worry.”

  He grimaced and led them onward.

  Rain pummeled the sidewalk as they stepped outside the sliding airport doors. Max strode to the curb and searched for a cab. The drive before the B terminal was clear of vehicles, but he reassured Aby it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes for a cab to arrive.

  Sniffing the air, Aby scented meadow, tarmac and fuel. Beneath the veil of odor, she smelled old elegance. She observed Max rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “Sore muscles?”

  “No, I…It’s a strange feeling I’m getting. Like a knowing. But what, I just can’t tell. You feel anything funny?”

  “Should I?”

  “Nah, it’s probably nothing. Just the air, you know?”

  “Yes, it feels old here.”

  “Exactly. Ancient.” He cast his gaze across the sky. “Dangerous.”

  “So, Paris,” she said, sitting on her suitcase under the building’s eave. If she stretched out her toes they would get wet. Because she wore her black strappy sandals, she kept them tucked close to the suitcase. “Bet you love it, huh? Isn’t Paris where you’re originally from?”

  Stoic, hands shoved in his coat pockets, Max kept his eyes glued down the street, toward the curving entrance to the pickup port. “I haven’t been here for any length of time since it happened.”

  “Really? You mean…?”

  “I couldn’t get out of the city fast enough after I’d realized what had become of me. I headed across the channel to England.”

  “That surprises me. So you’ve no lost loves here in Paris?”

  He smirked. “None who are still alive.”

  “Right. It’s been a while. How long were you in England?”

  “Twenty years.”

  “What kept you there for so long?”

  “My wife.”

  He’d been married? The stoic, nonfeeling man she’d had to practically attack to get to kiss her had shared his life with another woman?

  Aby tugged Max by the coat sleeve. “Your back is getting wet.”

  With a step, he fit himself close to her. The heat of him electrified her senses, while the memory of his tongue gliding over her skin as they’d soared through the clouds stirred up a delicious shiver.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist, inside his coat. “So, a wife. That’s interesting. How long were you married?”

  “Five years.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’d rather not speak of it. It’s been a while, Aby. But you should know, I married once more after Rebecca.”

  A name. Somehow that made it more real, personal. Yet Max didn’t seem eager to expound on their life together. She supposed that made sense. He’d had enough time to forget her.

  “And the second marriage? Can I ask about that one?”

  “It lasted three days. I married Emiline in eighteen-fifty. It was one of those all-night-drunken-escapades-in-Las-Vegas kind of things when you wake up the next morning with a ring on your finger. Only it was in a little Welsh village, and I wore a diamond bracelet on my…er…”

  He swiped a hand over his face and turned away, but Aby had seen him redden. She could imagine where the bracelet had ended up. Oh, Max, what a deliciously bad boy.

  “She was a widow and looking for a good time. Neither of us had intended marriage. When I told her the truth about my profession, she couldn’t run away fast enough. Unfortunately, when she ran…I don’t want to talk about this. It’s the past. I’ve moved on.”

  “Max, you surprise me.”

  “Why? I’m a man, Aby. We do stupid things like get married when we’re drunk. It should only surprise you I didn’t do it over and over again.”

  “You learned your lesson with the second marriage?”

  “Haven’t so much as had a girlfriend since.”

  “That’s very sad.”

  He smirked. “Didn’t say I wasn’t keeping a little black book.”

  “I bet that’s a thick book.”

  “I’ll never tell. There’s a cab.” He thrust up an arm, but the cab pulled to a stop down the way where an elderly couple stood. “Let them have it. Give it a few more minutes.”

  “So, who was the most interesting woman you’ve ever entered in your book?”

  “Why are you so interested in my love life?”

  “I’m trying to get to know you better.” She shuffled under the eave again, brushing the rain from her forearms. “I mean, your love life has got to be about as unique as mine. Unusual circumstances, and all.”

  “You can learn about a man without prying into his sex life. Why don’t you ask me about my hobbies, my favorite television show or book? What about my political leanings? My religion?”

  “Max, you’re getting angry for no reason. I was making small talk.”

  “I’m just saying there’s more to me than the women I’ve bedded.”

  “Yeah? Well, you brought it up. For a man who never sleeps, you’ve no doubt countless time to expand your horizons and…do whatever it is you do.”

  “What I do—” He leaned over and stabbed a finger at her as his voice took on a sharp edge. “Is hunt demons. All day, all night. I don’t have time for anything else. I live, eat, breathe and die for demons. Got that?”

  Stunned at his rising anger, Aby nodded silently. Somebody needed to shadow again.

  “Demons, I’ll have you know, that you summoned into this realm.”

  “Not all of them!” How dare he accuse her? Why was he being so cruel? After what they’d shared on the flight here?

  “Cab’s here.”

  Aby was tired from the flight. The rain was making her stuffy and grumpy. And now the one man she had trusted to protect her during this new and dangerous adventure was yelling at her.

  Sputtering out a few tears, Aby balked when Max directed her into the cab. She didn’t want to get into another tiny, enclosed space with him.

  “What are you—Are you crying?”

  She nodded. “Just go away.”

  “Aby, don’t cry. Damn it.”

  Rain ricocheted off his long coat and hit her bare legs. Aby twisted her head away from him and snapped, “Go chase some demons!”

  The soft touch of his finger along her jaw startled her and she looked up at him. His eyes seemed genuinely apologetic.

  “It’s miserable and wet out here, Aby. Get in the cab and I’ll bring you to a nice dry, luxury hotel. Okay?”

  No apology? She ducked her head and mined for the cell phone in her purse.

  “Who are you going to call?”

  “I should check in with Severo. He asked to let him know when I arrived safely.” Safely, but not happily.

  “When are you going to let go of him?”

  “What?”

  “That werewolf is like some kind of crutch to you, Aby. Christ, you’re on life number four. Haven’t you the courage to live on your own yet?”

  “You are a bastard.”

  She darted for the cab and slid inside. At least in there it was dry.

  In her ear the phone rang, but Severo did not pick up. With the time change he could be working, or out on a midnight lope across the countryside.

  The trunk slammed shut, then Max slid into the backseat and gave the driver an address. He shook his head, which sprayed rain all over the vinyl seat.

  “You’re worse than an animal,” she muttered.

  “You talk to your wolf?”

  “He isn’t answering. And so what if I
like to check in with him? And, yes, I have already lived three lives, but it’s not as though I remember all I’ve learned from life to life. Severo was the first to ever show me kindness, to want me to learn and retain that information. So I’ll call him all I like, Highwayman.”

  She turned to press the side of her head to the window and closed her eyes. What had she done, traveling across the ocean with this virtual stranger? What made her think he might be interested in her beyond what she could do for him?

  Stupid kitty.

  She felt Max touch his finger to her wrist, but she didn’t open her eyes. He traced the tattoo that declared him her enemy.

  While Max was tempted to find a room at one of the hostels in the city, he directed the driver to the corner of rue de Rivoli and the Place des Pyramids and followed a quiet Aby behind the footman at the Hotel Regina. It was ultraluxurious, as he promised, with marble floors and columns, gilt and damask and velvets.

  The sigh of relief Aby gave when she walked into the room worked wonders for his guilt.

  “I’m taking a shower,” she announced, before the footman even left. The bathroom door closed.

  Max hadn’t had time to change American dollars for euros at the airport, but the footman wasn’t fussy. He nabbed the fifty and tucked it away more deftly than a magician, then bowed out of the room.

  It was early evening. He wasn’t tired. He was never tired. But he suspected Aby would be.

  Thinking to make up for his crass treatment at the airport, he dialed room service and ordered dinner. She could eat, then sleep. By morning she might see to forgiving him.

  If you ask for forgiveness, idiot.

  He hadn’t said he was sorry. It just hit him now. “Asshole.”

  When was the last time he’d been concerned about his actions toward another person? He didn’t do relationships. It was a waste of time. The person always died. And he didn’t want the person to die sooner because of their association with a hunter.

  Besides, did he really believe he could date a chick who could curl up in his lap and take a real catnap?

  This thing—whatever it was—between him and Aby was like walking across broken glass. One wrong step, and blood would flow. He knew she looked to him for more than a mere business partnership. She wanted a connection. They’d had connection in the jet. He couldn’t resist her allure, the tempting sparkle of her.

  “Don’t forget she’s a tool,” he reminded himself.

  Find her, screw her and then kill her. That had been the plan. But he couldn’t think in those terms anymore. Find her. Make love to her. And then protect her with every fiber of his being.

  “Bleeding cowboys, I shouldn’t have touched her.”

  And yet, he couldn’t have not touched her. Chained to her now, he realized Aby had become the anchor he’d tried to shun. Would she become his madness?

  The shower stopped, and Aby emerged minutes later wrapped in a towel and trailing a fruity scent in her wake. She scrunched fingers through her wet hair and went to unzip the pink suitcase.

  Max sat on the bed opposite hers, trying to keep his expression neutral. She wouldn’t dress in the same room with him, would she? Of course, she must be comfortable being naked in front of strangers. And she’d already been half-naked for him.

  “I’m sorry for the way I treated you at the airport,” he said. “It was mean.”

  “Thank you. And I promise not to call Severo anymore.”

  “He asked you to call, so you should. I’ve no right to ask anything of you.”

  “I wish you would.”

  He turned and she stood at the end of his bed, a towel clutched to her breasts. Normally this situation could only end in one way.

  To keep from reaching for her, Max shrugged his fingers through his hair.

  “There’s room service,” he said, and gestured at the tray the valet had brought up. “Thought you’d be hungry and want to sleep after you ate.”

  “That was thoughtful. Will you join me? You can watch and I’ll describe to you how everything tastes.”

  That didn’t sound half-bad. “You’re going to dress first? I mean, you’re kind of naked.”

  “You noticed?” She trailed a fingertip along the towel. There her breasts were high and the remembrance of tasting them brought the saliva to his tongue.

  “Aby, don’t do this to me.”

  “Do what?”

  “I’m not made of steel. I do have feelings and sitting in a room with a woman in a towel is going to push me over the edge.”

  “I thought we’d already spilled over that edge. Are you having second thoughts about what we did in the airplane?”

  “No,” he breathed. “Never.” Yes. Always.

  “But now that you’ve had some time to think about it…?”

  She could have easily answered the open-ended question. But it was his burden to bear.

  Hell. He needed to tell her, and if she couldn’t accept him after, then he’d put her on a plane to Minnesota and try to forget he’d ever known Aby.

  Impossible. She was a part of him now. The shadow had tasted her soul, just as he had tasted her flesh.

  “There’s something about me I haven’t told you yet.”

  Could he do this? You’ve faced down demons, Max, you can face this harmless familiar.

  “I think you need to know, but I don’t want it to change the way you think about me, or the things you want from me.”

  She sat beside him and clasped his hand, so tender and once again eager to please him with her open acceptance. “Go ahead. It can’t be much worse than having a demon shadow inside and not sleeping or eating.”

  His voice rasped as he confessed his darkest secret. “Try not being able to have an orgasm.”

  “What?”

  “It’s the final nail in my coffin. No sleep, no food, no sexual satisfaction.”

  “But—”

  “I can have sex. Hell, I can bring a woman to orgasm, and it’s great for me. And the women, too, as you’ve learned. Pleasure is pleasure, after all. But I can’t…get off.”

  “Seriously? All these years?” When he shook his head she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “I didn’t want to put you off me.” He stood, but she wouldn’t release his hand. Closing his eyes and inhaling, Max pushed back the strange fear riding his spine. He turned and knelt before her. “I like you, Aby. I like holding you, kissing you, touching you, and I want to do a hell of a lot more with you. It’s a problem of mine, but it doesn’t have to affect the way I make you feel.”

  “But if you can’t take pleasure from being with me…Oh, I’ve been so awful.”

  “Aby, I take immense pleasure from you.” Bracketing her face with his hands, he kissed her. Her lips had been made for his pleasure, no matter how fleeting. He nuzzled his forehead against her breast. “Sex doesn’t always have to end in orgasm.”

  “I suppose.” She stroked his hair. He could kneel before her forever and never wish release from her tender embrace. “But for a man denied it for centuries, I bet that’s all you can think about.”

  “Most of the day and all through the night.”

  “That’s about as much as I think of it, too. Except I’m always wondering how it would be to make love and not have just sex. You made love to me in the airplane, Max.”

  “Mostly. I couldn’t go all the way with you. I didn’t want you to think something was wrong with me.”

  “Oh, you poor man.” She stroked his cheek. “Then we’ve got to find Rainier. You need to have an orgasm.”

  He chuckled quietly. “I should have told you this right away. Maybe you wouldn’t have been so indecisive about wanting to help me.”

  “Maybe.”

  He kissed her at the base of her throat. “We’ll find Rainier. I can feel him.”

  “You can?”

  “Yes, that feeling I had at the airport? Since we set foot on French soil, I’ve just…known. It’s like it was in the old d
ays. I might have been riding the high roads, pistol held high and eyes on the prize, but I always instinctually knew my partner was near, even when I couldn’t see him.”

  “Do you think you can track him with that feeling?”

  “No. It’s not that tangible. But I know of someone who might set us on the right course.”

  “Good. Then after we’ve found Rainier, I want to be your first.”

  “My first?”

  Her jewel eyes sparkled brightly and she stroked a finger across his lips. “The first to make you come after two hundred fifty years.”

  She was taking this well. There was no reason for her not to—save for one detail.

  “Aby, there’s something else.”

  “What else can a man be deprived of?”

  “I think sex, food and sleep about covers it. It’s about the dream walking.”

  “You’ve seen my sex dreams. I’ve accepted that.”

  “Right, but I told you I’ve never felt anything from them, that I couldn’t get off watching another person’s dreams.”

  “That makes me so sad for you.”

  “Yeah, well…The other night in your room as I stood over your bed, watching you dream of me making love to you, I, uh…got off.”

  Her mouth open, she waited with what Max hoped was expectation, but it looked more like fear.

  “I don’t know what happened, Aby, but I felt everything in that dream. I felt you kiss me, felt your hands gliding over my flesh, and I actually climaxed while in shadow form.”

  Her brows rose, though she sat there, still silent.

  “I didn’t think it possible. It’s never happened before. But after I shifted out of shadow form…there was evidence.” He searched her unreadable gaze. “You gave me pleasure in your dreams. It was the most incredible experience.”

  “And you’re just telling me about it now?”

  He bowed his head. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”

  Aby stood abruptly and tugged the towel tighter across her breasts. She prowled across the room.

  “I mean, I thought you’d feel…violated.”

  “Whew.” She blew out a breath. Looking aside, she clasped her arms high about her chest. “So you experienced an orgasm while I was dreaming about you?”

  He nodded.

  “And it’s not something you’ve had for over two centuries?”