“What was it like?”
At first, she thought he might decline to answer. But then, he stepped way, way closer to the edge of the rooftop than she ever would, and drew in a deep breath.
“Vegas never stopped moving, or breathing. It was wall-to-wall people, lights, activity, sound. The sole purpose of the city was pleasure. Hedonism. Food, sex, money, entertainment.” He looked at her, the words rolling out bitterly. “Superficial. Tawdry. Garish…yet, beautiful and exciting.”
Sage had seen pictures, of course, but those were images, frozen in a moment. The way he spoke, with his short, sharp sentences, painted a more fluid image, albeit a tainted one.
“But now,” he was saying, almost to himself, “all of that’s gone. The hype. The desperation hidden beneath the lights and sounds. It’s not a place for pleasure anymore. It’s been reborn. There’s greenery. And new life. And….” He seemed to catch himself, and she saw the way his jaw shifted when he closed his mouth as if to cut off the words.
“It must be horribly weird for you to see it now. After.”
His reply was a derisive sound, as if to say, Yeah, duh, of course it is.
She gritted her teeth, mentally kicking herself for the inane comment. And she wanted to ask more, but a sound behind drew her attention. She turned. “Theo!” A rush of relief swept her, and became even stronger when she noted that he seemed to be walking on two legs and fully intact. “You’re back.”
He’d been gone on one of his missions for four days, working to extend the secret computer network he and his twin brother Lou were building. This particular task had been to install several network access points for what was going to be a communications and information system—a new, covert Internet—for those who joined them in the struggle against the Strangers. The NAPs were strategically located, hidden in the overgrowth of old structures or high in trees, and powered by solar energy. Neither the Strangers nor the zombie-like night monsters known as gangas would suspect their existence.
They hoped.
“I’m back, and in one piece. Of course.” He smiled as he came toward her, smooth and easy. His tattoo of a writhing, red dragon curled down from beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt to wrap around his wrist. Whenever he flexed his substantial muscles, Scarlett shimmied and curled along with them. “I knew I’d find you up here if you weren’t in the computer room.”
“Did you get them set up?” Sage asked. “All ten of them?”
His glance strayed behind her, obviously to Simon, who’d also turned from his contemplation of the view, and then back to Sage. It was still light enough to see the question in Theo’s eyes, and something else that he quickly hooded. He stepped closer to her.
“Yes, all of them, in a fifty mile arc. As soon as you and Lou are ready, you can test their status.” He paused for a moment, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “I brought a bribe,” he said, producing a small satchel he’d had slung behind his back, “in case you wanted to start right away.”
When he produced three books from the depths of the bag, she snatched them up, then flung her arms around his neck in a big hug. Books! Unmildewed, unmoldered, unnibbled books.
“You know I don’t need a bribe to work on the computers,” she said, looking at them behind his shoulder, “but I’ll take them anyway.”
“I know that,” he said. And his arms tightened around her just as she would have pulled away. “I’m glad I found something for you.” Then she eased back, and she felt his arm loosen almost reluctantly.
“Thank you, Theo,” she said, already flipping through them. He always seemed to pick novels she’d like…and never once had he brought back something she’d already read. And it wasn’t as if there were many to choose from in the homes, stores, libraries…whatever…that he might encounter during his travels.
It was rather miraculous, really.
She glanced up from an Elizabeth Peters novel about a mummy case and found Theo looking down at her. There was an expression in his eyes that she’d never noticed before, and it made her feel hot and cold at the same time.
She glanced away, feeling a slow heat explode over her face, glad for the lowering sun and lengthening shadows to hide it…and noticed that Simon had gone.
Now why would the fact that she and Theo were alone suddenly make her heart start pounding? She wasn’t afraid of him of course, but the way he was looking at her made her wonder how she did feel about him.
They’d known each other for more than fifteen years, ever since she’d come to live in Envy as a shy, withdrawn girl of twelve. Witnessing the murder of her mother tended to do that to a girl, no matter how confident she might have been before. Not that Sage had been. Confident.
Which was why her palms sprung dampness as she felt the weight of his gaze on her. Something was changing. And change always seemed to bring…unrest. Discomfort. Upheaval.
Theo’d always been older than Sage, but because of what had happened to him during the Change—of which he was one of the Survivors—he’d stopped aging for a long time.
He looked as if he were thirty, but he had been alive for eighty years. Only in the last few years had his hair begun to start growing again, his beard and nails. And the few gray hairs he’d bragged about indicated that his body had begun to age at a normal rate.
“Sage,” he said.
She looked up and his head bent…and the next thing she knew, his mouth descended and it brushed over hers. His hands had moved to the tops of her shoulders, and before she could quite assimilate the fact that Theo had kissed her, he did it again. Longer this time, the gentle fitting of lip to lip, barely touching, really…as if he, too, were afraid she was skittish as a cat.
When he lifted his face to look down at her, Sage couldn’t read his expression, or what was in his eyes.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said softly. Then he set her away from him, stepping back as if to give her space. As if he could tell she needed it, needed to contemplate and examine what had just happened.
Because that was what Sage did. She analyzed, dissected, weighed.
And she wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about this…strange, crazy, unexpected event. She smiled up at Theo, not offended or put off by the fact that he’d kissed her. No woman in her right mind would be, really, once she thought about it.
But she wasn’t certain how she felt about it.
He was handsome and strong, brilliant…and unique. Very special. And the kiss had been very tender. Warming. Unexpected. It had been a long time since she’d been kissed. She’d forgotten how nice it could be.
“It was nice,” she told him, resting her hand gently against his chest where a strong heart pounded beneath her fingers.
“Nice,” he said, and she could tell, even in the dusk of twilight, that he was smiling. “That’s good.”
She looked at him for a moment, feeling a little confused, and a little odd. She’d never really thought about him as more than a friend. What should she do now?
But Theo answered that question for her. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” she said. “I told Lou I’d meet him for dinner.”
“All right, then I can give both of you the update while we eat,” Theo said, seeming to be in a particularly expansive mood. “And then you can get to work on testing out the network.”
That was good. Work was something Sage understood very well.
~*~
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Colleen Gleason’s medieval romance
A Whisper of Rosemary…
~*~
Lord Merle nodded at his guest, then turned to his daughter. “Maris, will you not show Sir Dirick where the men-at-arms lay their pallets? And any other comforts he may need.”
Maris stood reluctantly, dismay by her father’s innocent command. The last thing
she wanted was to be alone with Sir Dirick. She’d felt his attention returning to her again and again during the evening, and had been unable to ignore the interest in his stare. Try as she might, she’d been unable to keep her mouth closed and her mind on her food—as her mother had admonished her many a time. Nay, if the man was to wed her, he’d know from the beginning that she had her own thoughts and opinions, and an interest in the world beyond Langumont’s walls.
“Of course, Papa,” she said in a voice that disguised her discomfort.
Obviously, Sir Dirick did not miss her mislike of the situation, for as soon as Merle and Allegra were out of earshot, he said, “Lady Maris, I am perfectly able to find my own pallet.”
“Nay, ’tis my father’s wish. I should not put a guest out,” she smiled at him, swallowing the resentment she felt for being pressed into a marriage she did not want. In all honesty, it was not this man’s fault—and he seemed pleasant enough now that he was not ahorse. “Have you bathed?”
“Nay,” he shook his head, surprise flashing in his gray-blue eyes.
“May I offer you a warm bath before I direct you to your pallet?” she asked. “Gustave will bring the water. I won’t take long, and you will soon be for bed.”
“You?” Those eyes turned on her with a sudden intensity, and he looked at her for a moment, a very faint smile hovering at the corners of his mouth.
Maris’s throat went dry and she nearly stepped away from him and the unexpected stirrings in her middle. The sudden image of this man, devoid of his chausses and tunic, settled into a tub that would hardly fit his large body, filled her mind. His dark hair, which now curled wildly about his face and jaw, would be sleek and dripping, his broad shoulders bare and steam rising from dark skin—
Maris bit her lip as her cheeks flushed with warmth. What was wrong with her? She’d never had lewd thoughts over such a mundane chore. “Aye, of course,” she managed to say in response to the question she’d nearly forgotten.
“Nay,” Sir Dirick rumbled after what seemed like forever. His smooth, low voice carried easily to her ears, even over the noise of the servants as they cleared off the tables and stacked the benches. “I do not believe I should put myself through such torture.”
Her heart in her throat and her mind whirling—unsure as to what he meant by such a comment—Maris spun away to hide her discomfiture. “Then if you would follow me,” she murmured and blindly began to make her way between the nearly-empty tables, anxious to be rid of her charge.
As they approached a group of rowdy knights, Maris paused, resting her hand on the shoulder of a burly, red-headed one. They quieted almost as if she’d commanded it. “Sir Raymond, how fares your shoulder? Is the pain lessening?”
The man’s face nearly matched the color of his hair when he turned it up to look at her. “Aye, my lady. The pain is nearly gone.” He moved his arm as if to demonstrate.
“You will come to the herbary on the morrow and I will check it again,” she ordered. It wouldn’t do for her father’s best man to have an injured arm. “The last I dressed a wound for you, ’twas only once that you came to me—and look what has happened to it because of your carelessness!”
He grinned up at her, “Aye, my lady. On the morrow, I will allow you to torture me yet again. ’Tis only because your touch is so sweet that I can sit through the pain,” he teased in the manner of a big brother.
Maris, who’d grown up with Raymond pulling at her pigtails and chasing her through the keep with spiders, planted hands on her hips as the other men laughed. “Aye, and you should keep such sweetness on your tongue, or I will put you through more tortures if you spread tales. Did I not warn you that some day you would pay for the frog in my bed?”
There wasn’t a hint of guile in her actions, Dirick thought as he watched. She had no concept of what she did to a man, with those teasing golden-green eyes and vibrant smile—particularly the red-headed knight, whose besotted expression was not quite brotherly. Whatever reason she’d been in the village at night, it hadn’t been for a tryst—he was now certain of it.
Dirick’s skin still prickled at the memory of her innocent offer to bathe him, and he wondered if her father knew she’d made such a gesture. A sudden streak of heat shot through him at the thought of her scratched and stained hands soaping his body…but he thrust the thought away immediately. He’d do well to find a woman anight. Mayhaps one of the maidservants would oblige him.
Not for the first time that evening, he wondered why he’d heard nothing of the beautiful heiress of Langumont—from either Bernard or the court. Certainly a well-landed maid as comely as Maris Lareux wouldn’t escape the notice of the unmarried, land-greedy barons at court.
Lady Maris’s voice broke into Dirick’s thoughts as she led him around into the area reserved for the men-at-arms and other important visitors. It was a large room, cordoned off from the rest of the hall by a heavy oaken door—much nicer than many of the men’s quarters he’d slept in throughout England and France. A fire roared in the corner, and a serf slumped against the wall, snoring, with a stack of wood within reach.
“You may place your pallet anywhere you like, Sir Dirick,” Maris offered. She handed him a pile of blankets, more than generous enough to keep one warm—especially with a blazing fire in the same room.
“Thank you, my lady.” He took the bundle.
She paused for a moment as if contemplating her next words, and when she spoke, a small grin tickled the corner of her enticing mouth.
Her words, however, when they came, eliminated any hint of innocence. “Papa bade me see to your comforts. If your need is as great as ’twas yestereve, I will send a woman to you.”
Dirick felt his face flush hot as he ground his teeth together in an attempt to maintain his dignity. Words escaped him, and before he could gather his wits, the little minx took his silence for dissent and whirled away down the dark corridor.
He could only stare after her, trying to decide whether he wanted to murder her or kiss her.
~*~
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Colleen Gleason is the international best-selling author of the Gardella Vampire Chronicles, a historical urban fantasy series about a female vampire hunter who lives during the time of Jane Austen. Her first novel, The Rest Falls Away, was released to acclaim in 2007.
Since then, she has published more than fifteen novels with New American Library, MIRA Books, and HarperCollins (writing as Joss Ware). Her books have been translated into more than seven languages and are available worldwide.
She loves to hear from readers, and can be contacted through her website or via Facebook.
Table of Contents
Prologue
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
EPILOGUE
Sneak Peeks
About the Author
Table of Contents
Prologue
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
EPILOGUE
Sneak Peeks
About the Author
riends
The Cards of Life and Death (Modern Gothic Romance 2) Page 32
