Boundless

by Annie Dean

  Ben looked old, though he’d just turned thirty. They had the same color hair and eyes, though his features were rougher, heavier and much more worn. Maybe part of that came from dealing with their father’s death. Guilt swirled through her, as she’d certainly played a role in that. He worked too hard, stuck under cars all day. Teresa checked his hands for oil stains and found them, just as she remembered.

  “You look good.” Ben hesitated.

  Dev stood and offered his hand. She didn’t know what to make of him choosing to take a visible role in her life as he hadn’t at the monastery. At least not voluntarily. “I made sure Tess got here safely. I’m Dev.”

  “Then I owe you my thanks.” The two men shook, assessed each other with a glance, and then Ben directed a look her way that said he’d made an interesting leap. “You’re not still doing the nun thing?”

  Nervous laughter gusted out of her. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”

  Her brother smiled as he lowered himself into the tweed recliner. “That makes two of us. You guys hungry? I think I have some mac and cheese, maybe some tuna in the cupboard somewhere.”

  “I could make a casserole,” she said automatically.

  This felt just like old times, except without the smothering weight. Maybe she should be furious, but Dev had granted her heart’s desire. If there would be a penalty in the afterlife, so be it.

  For the first time Teresa entered the kitchen here without seeing blood on the black and white linoleum. If she felt strong enough, she’d sift through old pictures tomorrow. As she got out a pan, she thought she heard an echo of her mother’s laughter.

  Day Six

  Whenever a life ended at Finney’s, it meant things had gone drastically wrong.

  Her father’s wake was no exception, cut-rate and poorly done. The last time she was here, Teresa had buried her mother. Then, deep down, she’d resented the paltry display. The cream block building had seen better days and only a few cars sat in the broken parking lot. If Teresa cared, she might have found the low turnout embarrassing.

  At first, approaching the casket required all her courage. Once she saw him, pale and inert, the truth sank in. He was really gone.

  She’d sat quiet while Ben finalized the arrangements for the service on Monday. Only once did she interject: “Don’t bury him next to Mom.”

  Now they stood around on maroon threadbare carpet, breathing stale air and the scent of dying flowers. A few former neighbors showed up, more out of respect for Ben and Teresa than any desire to say farewell to John Wolff. At four, Dev appeared with a bag of sandwiches and soda. Teresa decided she probably didn’t want to know how he’d acquired it.

  They ate on the dingy folding table in the lounge. Someone had put a coffee maker at one end along with some Styrofoam cups and called it refreshments.

  Ben polished his food off quickly. “You think we need to stay until 8:30?”

  She shrugged. “I was thinking of heading out now. I doubt anyone else will come, and if they do, the assistant director can handle them.”

  Her brother smiled a little. “I guess you’re finally working this out, huh? No joke, Teri, I used to be scared shitless of you.”

  That made her pause on the way to the trashcan, aware of Dev listening silently. “What are you talking about?”

  “I thought you were possessed or something, you went all Wednesday Addams for God on me. You never laughed, never talked back, never got in trouble. You just didn’t seem … right, y’know?”

  Teresa laughed at such irresistible irony. “But you think maybe I’m okay now?”

  Ben ducked his head, seeming sheepish. “Well. Yeah. You got past the religious jones and found a guy. That’s cool, right?”

  “I’m a good influence,” Dev said with evident sincerity.

  She tossed her garbage into the bin. “Is that why you stayed away from me so much back then, Ben? You thought I was creepy?”

  “Well.” Her brother hesitated. “It doesn’t matter. Maybe we can start over?”

  Then she did hug him. “Maybe. Maybe we can.” Over the top of Ben’s head, she gazed straight at Dev. “Do you believe in second chances?”

  “Sure,” Ben said, obviously not following the undertones. “Why not?”

  But Dev slowly shook his head. Yesterday she’d taunted him about time running now, but today she sensed it like a pendulum swinging a blade above his neck. I’ve resigned myself to failure here, which means I’ll never be sent above again.

  No more flight, no more freedom. Just endless night.

  She had no reason to believe him, yet she did. More and more, she knew Dev wasn’t evil, no matter what he’d once done. Maybe there came a point when it didn’t matter anymore.

  Wasn’t that the root of God’s love? Forgiveness? Redemption? Maybe she couldn’t reason well on the matter because she didn’t want to lose him. Perhaps he’d tricked her, well and truly, and she couldn’t see his true face.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Some habits died hard, so she straightened all the chairs before turning off the light. “This place is depressing.”

  The guys followed her out to Ben’s car, a shiny black ’73 Impala. Her brother had been working on it almost as long as Teresa could remember. She crawled in back, despite the black dress and heels.

  Back at the house, she changed from funeral clothes to jeans in her old room. She wandered, touching all the religious plaques she’d hung, probably to ward off an evil that had occurred only steps from her bedroom door. Footprints, Serenity, and others … she read the familiar words, knowing her life was about to change forever.

  Dev came in behind her, adjusting the Strawberry Shortcake bedspread. His gaze lit on the Precious Moments figurines and the puppy calendar on the wall from 1999. “He didn’t change a thing.”

  “I guess he knew I’d be back.”

  “Hoped,” Ben said from the hall. “Not necessarily like this.”

  “No.” Teresa shook her head. “It’s … good. Before we take off, I’d like to look at the old albums. Would that be okay?”

  “Take off?” Dev repeated the words, one brow arched.

  She’d finally surprised him. Judging by her brother’s expression, he wanted to ask too. “There’s something I need to do. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in time for services Monday morning. Promise.”

  This would work. It had to.

  “I’m holding you to that,” Ben answered after a moment. He slugged Dev in the arm. “You take care of her or I’ll kick your ass. Bring her back safe.”

  Teresa noted that Dev promised nothing. He truly didn’t expect to be around on Monday morning.

  “Do we still have the sleeping bags?”

  Before their lives exploded, they used to pile into the station wagon and take camping trips. Ben nodded, probably believing he’d figured things out. He must think she intended to go where they’d spent their last happy night as a family.

  “I think they’re out in the garage. Should I pack up the camping stuff for you?”

  She smiled. “Please. I’ll get the pictures.”

  When Ben came back into the living room, carrying an olive army duffel, she was sitting on the couch with Dev, slowly turning the pages. Letting the memories come. Teresa patted the space beside her and made room.

  Now and then she pointed. The years marched on, and not all of them were ugly. Tiny Teresa wore a yellow ruffled dress, young Ben strutted in cowboy boots, and they relived the year the cat tore down the Christmas tree—

  “Remember this one?”

  Several hours passed that way. At last she stood and stretched. She offered her hand freely to Dev, who regarded it as if he expected a trick. Finally he curled his fingers through hers. He’d been quiet since their argument yesterday. Perhaps he thought she nursed some secret animosity, or perhaps he felt out of place playing a role before her brother. She couldn’t guess at his thoughts; she could only hope.

  “Time to get moving,” she said.
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  “Sure you don’t want to start in the morning?” Her brother shut the photo album.

  Teresa shook her head gravely. “Things never get easier by hiding from them.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” At the door, Ben hugged her, a real hug, one that threatened to crack her ribs. “We’re gonna be okay, T.”

  “I know.”

  Turning, Ben snagged his jacket from the coat rack. “Here, take this. I noticed you don’t have one.”

  Ridiculously, her eyes misted up. “Thanks.”

  She tugged Dev out the door before she could start bawling. He followed in silence for a block and then asked in evident puzzlement, “What are we doing? Did you want to say good-bye to the sisters in person? I can take you for one last flight.”

  The yearning in his voice told her everything she needed to know. Teresa smiled faintly. “No, Dev. I believe in you. I want to go looking for dragon gold.”

  “What? Why?” He stared down at her in the moonlight, inhumanly beautiful.

  “Find the gold and I’ll explain.”

  She asked a leap of faith of him. Dev, who had no experience with such things. Eyes on his, she willed him to trust her.

  “It’s been such a long time,” he said slowly. “Most of the caverns will have been looted by now. There’s one high in the Pyrenees that they may not have found though. Shall we try?”

  “Please.” The word contained all her intensity and desperation.

  “To have any hope of success I’ll need a kiss for luck.” Dev delivered the line as if he didn’t care.

  Teresa read deeper. Yesterday she’d called him a monster, and he’d spent the night on her brother’s couch. He’d probably never been in argument with anyone before. Stretching up on tiptoes, she framed his face in her hands, resting her thumbs in the tiny divot on his chin.

  “Dev,” she whispered. “This is not a kiss for luck. This is a kiss for everything.”

  She took his mouth, and he made a soft sound against her lips. “Let me touch you, Tess. Please.”

  Another leap of faith—unconditional permission.

  “Yes.”

  He pulled her to him and kissed her as if he were starving. But he fed last night. Tonight he did again, nibbling at her mouth. His tongue met hers lightly, teased and retreated. His whole body shuddered as she ran her hands down his back.

  “You touch me.” Dev dropped his head to her shoulder, turning his face against her throat. “You see me.” She felt his lips on her throat as he spoke, the faintest thread of sound. “I wish I was real, Tess. I wish…” His head came up, as if he recognized the futility of such talk. “To the park then.”

  Two kids saw them. She imagined them running home in excited glee, telling their parents about the handsome man, who turned into a dragon. How a lady climbed on his back and they flew away together, right up into the sky.

  “Nobody ever listens to kids,” Dev growled as they soared.

  The wind stole her reply.

  The speed and roaring air didn’t make for easy conversation. By the time they reached the mountains, Teresa’s hands felt frozen. After they touched down in a narrow valley, she needed his help to release her death grip on his shoulders. He gently peeled her fingers up and eased her down.

  “Come here,” he whispered, and she nestled against him. Long moments later some of his heat seeped into her. “It’s a bit of a climb. I don’t remember exactly where the entrance is, and I could feel you fading. I thought it’d be better if we went the rest of the way on foot.”

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “My hands are pretty sore.”

  With some effort and a little backtracking, Dev found the path, which led to three different caves. “We want the one at the top though. I doubt anyone will have found it, and that’s where I hid the tribute I received from El León. Because of his marvelous generosity, I even made an appearance at his daughter’s wedding, and pretended to let him slay me. His people were amazed.”

  “You’re serious,” she said wonderingly. “All your marvelous stories are true.”

  Dev paused on the mountainside. “I have never lied to you.”

  They still had a ways to go, but she needed to know. “Why?”

  He hesitated. “I received certain of your memories, as if I’d been there with you. Meant to aid me in manipulating you, of course. But … how could I deceive a woman who read The Velveteen Rabbit to a dying child? I may be a demon, but I am not a fiend.”

  She remembered. Miranda loved that story, especially the part that went: Real isn’t how you are made. It’s a thing that happens to you. And she imagined him sitting there unseen in the hospital, listening along with the little girl. After Mandy died, she stopped volunteering at the hospice. It hurt too much when she lost the young ones.

  Her heart broke wide open. “Oh, Dev. That’s what you meant by real.”

  He ducked his head, unable to meet her eyes. “Yes. But you need someone to love you for a long, long time, not just to play with, before that happens.”

  Her head fell back and she gazed up at the stars. “We don’t have a long time.”

  She would not weep.

  Dev brushed his lips across her brow. “I know. Let’s keep moving, Tess. It’s nearly midnight.”

  To her fierce gratitude, her brother had packed everything they might need, including a box of crackers, some cans of iced tea, an air mattress, and two flashlights. The latter helped when they finally reached the summit and ventured into the yawning mouth of the cave where, in another life, Dev kept his dragon lair.

  “Is this right?” she asked as they stepped deeper into the dark.

  He nodded, shining the golden beam toward the far wall. “This is it. See where I scored the rock? If your paleontologists found that, they’d blame a dinosaur. Anyway, if there’s anything left, it will be deep down.”

  Excitement thrummed through her as she hurried after him. The cavern led steadily downward. Once Teresa might have imagined he led her into the bowels of Hell itself. Not now. She trusted him.

  That belief bore fruit when the flashlight caught a shimmer. Hands trembling, she managed to light the portable Coleman lantern and shine it around the treasure room. Dev gazed around, looking melancholy. Piles of coins, goblets of hammered gold, pearl necklaces, all possessed a patina of age, and would be worth a fortune. More than she could imagine.

  “We won’t be able to carry it all,” she said softly. “But I can empty the backpack. That will be more than enough to put my plan into motion, and we can always come back if we need more.”

  Dev arched a brow as he brushed the wind-tangled hair away from her face. “Greed? That isn’t what I expected of you, Teresa. Isn’t money the root of all evil?”

  She shook her head. “You set me free, so I’m returning the favor. We’ll make love here.” Pausing, she tried to muster the words. “I believe in a god of love. After all … he sent you to me.

  “Tess…”

  She raced to finish before he could frame an argument. “I’ll convert to Methodism, they believe in the work of hands. How I live has to matter more than a single moment, more than the outward trappings of religious dogma, because if it doesn’t, then I’ve given my faith to a god of capriciousness and lies. So we’ll found that charity you mentioned, and I’ll spend my life helping others. That will be enough, I’m sure of it.”

  “You’re sure? You want to wager your soul on it?” With desperate hands, Dev tilted her face up.

  Teresa tried to smile. “It’s mine to gamble, isn’t it? I only ask one thing if we do this, Dev. Don’t leave me. If I’m wrong, if I have nothing but this life to look forward to, then I want to enjoy it. I want to live.”

  “Leave you?” he repeated. “If you bid me stay, only the forces of Hell or God himself could pull me from your side.”

  By the light of the lantern she pulled out the two twin sleeping bags and zipped them together. Even now, beyond the heavy stone, the sky might be lightening. “I don’t mean
to rush you, but I’d feel better if we got it over with.”

  “Tess,” he said gently. “It’s not nasty medicine, best done quickly. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”

  Thank goodness the shadows hid her hot cheeks. “No, I want it done so they can’t take you away from me.”

  “As you wish,” he murmured and took her in his arms.

  Day Seven

  His skin felt incredibly hot and smooth against hers.

  Teresa tried to calm her jittering nerves. They lay snuggled together inside the joined sleeping bags, the lamp throwing a weak pool of light. She rested in the curve of his right arm. Despite what she’d said, Dev didn’t rush. Instead he ran his hands up and down her spine with expert delicacy. His fingers found the indentations above each vertebra, gently stroking away her tension.

  She didn’t know how to do this, barely knew how to kiss yet heat trailed in the wake of his touch. Each brush of his fingertips added another spark, and deep within she melted. Dev cupped her hips in his hands as he lowered his mouth to her throat, tasting her skin with lips and tongue. The rasp of his teeth on her shoulder summoned a tiny sound out of her.

  “This isn’t…” She struggled to find the right words. “You’re not…”

  As always, he understood and shook his head. “No, Tess. This is just you and me. No tricks, no augmentation. I’m … trying to make love to you.” Dev skimmed his palm up her bare belly, cupped the tender swell of her breast.

  Her breath hitched. “You’re doing beautifully.”

  “Will you like it if I kiss them?” Staring at her taut nipples, he appeared to ask with all solemnity. It was strangely endearing to find such innocence—in some ways, he knew less than she. In his other life he didn’t require foreplay; women went mad for him, and he rode them until they collapsed. He might be able to do the same thing to her now; turn on the pheromones and leave her panting like a bitch in heat.

  She loved that he didn’t. “I suspect so. Will you?”

  “Will I like it, or will I kiss them?”

  “Both.”

  “Yes.” He lowered his head to nuzzle her, open-mouthed.