by Julie Reece
“I love you.”
He leans back. A grin escapes as he pats my thigh. “Me, too.”
We’re quiet a long moment. Grey smiles again, wider this time.
“What?”
“Nothing. Well, okay, I just gotta say this. Once Fenris morphed into a guy, it looked like you two were having ‘a moment’.” Grey makes quote marks in the air with two fingers. “Turns out his alter ego is equally intense. Thought I might have to fight him for you or something.”
I glare at him. “Very funny.”
He smirks. “Who’s kidding?”
“Shush!”
“Anyway … to get back to my story … I wanted to tell you Jeff encouraged me to talk to my dad the night before we left.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah. Told him about me, Sean, everything—it went … okay. I realized it was important. Just in case, you know, things went south. He’d know how I felt.”
“Whoa,” I say. “That’s huge.”
“Uh huh. You know, I heard what you said to Jeff … right before he left. I heard you call him dad. I think he felt you were family, too.”
“He called me daughter.” I smile, but it comes out sad and lopsided.
“Yeah, he did. He also left you everything he owned.”
My spoon slips from my fingers and lands with a clatter. “He what?”
Grey leans forward
. “Jeff truly believed he was leaving this time. He had faith in us, in you. He had the papers drawn up and signed before we left. He even booked our flight home.” Grey holds up two fingers like a peace sign. “Two tickets, not three. See what I mean? He knew. You get the house, furniture, antiques, jewelry, cash. It’s all yours.” His lips part in a wolfish grin. “I’ve never dated a chick as rich as you are. Wanna be my sugar momma?”
“I got your sugar right here.” I hold my tray up and try to kick him from under the covers, but he only laughs.
I know he’s kidding. He wanted me when I was dirty and homeless. He never gave up, even died for me. I think I’ll keep him.
He lifts the tray from my lap. The mattress creaks under his weight as he stretches out on the bed next to me.
“Bird?” His fingers comb through my hair. He raises the silken strands to his mouth and runs them along his lips.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“Gracious, what for?” All I can think is how I almost cost him his life.
He doesn’t answer. I gulp under the intensity of his stare. His head closes the gap half way between us and stops. His lips part, his tongue sweeps the inside of his teeth before he smiles. He must decide its more fun to taunt me by withholding his answer … and his kiss.
“What?” My muscles get all squirmy. He’s making me nervous again.
He laughs, rubs his lips over mine, teasing me. “You still don’t see yourself very clearly.” He drops a kiss on my nose and pulls back. “I’m happy Bird, maybe happier than I’ve ever been in my life … because of you.”
27
Today is Christmas Day, and I’m on my way to Grey’s house. This will be my first visit with his parents since we got back. Grey and his folks did a lot of talking and worked through some stuff. I’m willing to make a fresh start if they are. It’s the season of hope, after all.
I skip out the front door holding a shopping bag and a big, white poinsettia. Grey’s shiny black Audi waits for us, heater running. The seats warm and toasty as I slip inside. We back out of Jeff’s driveway and pass the for sale sign in the yard. I still call the house I live in Jeff’s. I don’t want to think of the place any other way.
The house is too big for me, and lonesome without Jeff and Fenris. I don’t need the money. Not to brag, but Jeff has made me embarrassingly, stinkin’, filthy rich. I have more than I can spend in ten lifetimes, and I won’t forget the lessons he taught me.
After talking my situation over with Grey, I decided to sell the mansion. I plan to donate the money from the sale and divide it between homeless shelters and churches that work with kids who want to leave the skin trade.
Pressure builds at my back, and I rub my shoulder blade through my clothing.
“Your battle scar bothering you?” Grey asks.
“Doesn’t hurt exactly. I’m just … aware of it.”
The blue sky deepens to purple out my window. Every wound I had disappeared the day after Gunnarr Blot, except one—the one where an arrow pierced my shoulder. I don’t know why, but the cut left a scar in the shape of a perfect ‘V’ when it healed. I don’t mind. V for Victory, Viking—I think of it as a keepsake from my adventure.
When we pull into Grey’s driveway, Kate jumps off the porch. She runs to me before I even shut the car door. She’s stunning, as always, in a pomegranate colored sweater, skinny, dark jeans and furry boots. Our outfits are similar, like best friends who called ahead with a plan—except my sweater is navy.
Swell.
“Oh, my gosh, oh, my gosh. You guys are so totally awesome!” She squeals at a decibel only Kate can reach. As she throws her arms around my neck and hugs me, I hold the poinsettia away to keep the leaves from being crushed. “Grey’s told me everything about your trip, do you mind? He told Scud, too. I hope that’s okay.”
“She knows, Kate.” Grey smiles and shakes his head. He loves his sister to death, and so do I.
“Come inside,” Kate says. “It’s so cold.”
Not compared to the temperatures in England’s history this past week. Grey winks at me like he knows what I’m thinking.
Scud waits on the porch. Big arms fold across his chest, and his brow creases over a straight nose as he glares at me. “Come here, you.” His face breaks into a smile as he pulls me in for a giant bear hug. “Can you let me in on this super power gig? I’d make an awesome Green Lantern or something, yeah? Maybe take it on the road with the circus, contract out to the city as a paid vigilante, crime fighter? Build my own bat cave. Whaddaya say?”
I push him away. “Forget it, dude.”
“Come on! What’s it take … a blood brother ritual? A midnight dance around a bonfire, naked?”
“Eww, you’re disgusting,” Kate says. “I can’t stand the sight of blood.” She disappears inside the house.
“Fine,” Scud yells, chasing after her, “but what about the naked dancing part?”
Grey grins at me, and my breath hitches. He can do things to my body with nothing more than a smile—and does even more with the quick kiss he steals before we head inside.
I find I’m nervous when it comes right down to seeing his parents again. The last time ended with Grey’s dad pretty much accusing me of being a bad influence on his son. That situation’s bound to get better since I took him to war, got him stabbed, killed in place of me, and turned him into a superhero. What’s not to love about me?
“Don’t worry. Everything’s different now. They understand you’re important to me.” He must have seen something in my expression.
I’ve heard that kind of talk before.
Swags of pine and tiny white lights cover the Mathews’ pretty house. The sofa’s usual throw pillows have been replaced by red ones. Delicious scents of ham and cinnamon flood the living room. Christmas music plays softly in the background.
The family portrait in the living room catches my eye again. I can’t help staring at Sean’s handsome face, knowing so much more about him than I did the first time I saw his picture. I have a bond with him now and understand him better than I’d ever thought possible.
Grey takes my shopping bag from me and puts the gifts under their nine-foot Christmas tree.
“Birdie?” Mrs. Mathews walks into the living room followed by Mr. Mathews, Mr. and Mrs. Bowen, Dylan, Izzy and their dates.
While Grey’s mom makes the introductions, I peek around at the others. Dylan’s with a pretty blonde named Elle. Izzy’s date, Marcus, is tall, dark and handsome. Though he can’t take his eyes off her, she only watches Grey.
Poor Marcus.
Seven-foot tall Viking warriors are a piece of cake compared to Grey’s mom. I peer at her through the leaves of my potted plant like a pygmy in the African bush—only taller. “Oh, uh … yeah.” I’m such a dork.
“You’re adorable,” Grey whispers from behind me.
Where’d he come from?
“Have I told you in the last ten minutes how amazing you are?”
His mother smiles at us as she leans over to take the plant. “Let’s go shopping soon, have lunch, just the two of us.”
“I’d like that.” I mean it.
“Can we get you something to drink?” She asks me but faces her son like he’s neglecting his guest.
“That sounds great,” I say, “but let me get it, please?” I’m looking for an excuse to be alone a minute to regroup.
“In the kitchen, dear,” says Mrs. Mathews.
“Grey! I need you up here, pronto!” Kate yells from the upstairs landing.
“Go,” I say. “I’m a big girl.”
“I’ll be right back.” Grey jogs off.
In the kitchen, I pour myself a ginger ale, enjoying my moment of solitude. Mr. Mathews walks in and our gazes meet. “How’s the ice holding up?”
“Um, okay? I think.” I have no idea, though I glance at the silver bowl on the counter, half full of cubes.
“Actually, I wanted an excuse to, uh … apologize.” He picks up the dip and a bag of chips and sets them down again. “Well, the truth is we’re … that is, I …”
It’s freaky watching a billboard worthy, model-type guy flounder around so painfully. Awkward doesn’t begin to cover this. When he picks the same stuff up for the third time, I let him off the hook. “Mr. Mathews?”
“Yes, Birdie?”
“It’s really fine.” I give him my best forget-about-it smile.
When he smiles back, I start to think we’re going to be okay. He lifts the bowl of dip my direction and exits out the kitchen door.
I take another swig of ginger ale when Izzy comes in, alone.
Sheeze! What am I, a customer service rep at the information desk? How may I help you?
“So, you’re back?” Izzy’s lips pull down at the edges in a sulky frown. She taps her foot, folds her arms, and does a bad caricature of herself.
“You’re quick.”
She flips her red ponytail over her shoulder. “Kate said you went to Europe with some long, lost uncle or something. I hoped you might stay there.”
“Sorry, no. I think you’d miss me if I left you now.”
Her eyes open wider. “I would not!”
I shrug. “That really hurts, Iz.”
“I’ve been part of Grey’s life a long time, Annie. That won’t change. Did you actually think I’d just walk away?”
She just won’t quit on the Orphan Annie angle. I take a long drink and let out a sigh. “Maybe not, but we’ll see you less often now, won’t we? We’ll be busy with school in a couple of weeks, going on lots of romantic dates. Speaking of which, your date seems sweet.”
Her nostrils flare as she gives a little snort. “It won’t work, Annie. I’ve told you before, you’re something different than what he’s known, but you’re not woman enough to hold him. Not forever. That’ll be me.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Think again. There’s something strange about you. I don’t know what that is yet, but I will. I’ll always be here, watching, waiting … and I’m a very patient girl. See you around, loser.” She spins on her Jimmy Choos and stomps off.
“Back at cha.” I lift my glass to her back and shrug inwardly, trying to ignore the cold ball of fear settling in my gut. You can’t have everything. I’ve made peace with Grey’s folks. That’s a big plus.
I step out onto the back porch. The night’s clear. Stars shine down, dazzling the human race with their brilliance. I wonder if Jeff is up there somewhere.
“Bird?”
I close my eyes and drink in the only sound I want to hear right now.
“Will you come over here? I was going to wait to give you your present, but Kate’s ready to kill me.”
“Why?”
“Because the Christmas gift I bought you destroyed her bedroom.”
“Wha …” I open my eyes, and a black German Shepherd puppy runs to greet me. He throws himself in my lap, and I scoop him up as he licks my face and bites at my hair.
“Meet Fenris—the second.”
I put the puppy down and race to Grey. When I jump, he catches me mid-air. My legs enfold his waist as I bury my hands in his hair and kiss him. The parting of his lips encourages me to deepen our embrace.
Grey carries me to a lawn chair, lays back, and tucks me in alongside him.
“Happy?” He runs the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip.
“Are you kidding?” I’m at peace with who I am and my life—number one on my mom’s wish list.
“It’s been a long time coming, Rebecca Orin, but you’ve earned some happiness. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I say. The words come easier now.
Grey nuzzles my neck. Warmth starts in my chest, spreading throughout my body. We kiss until Fenris the second jumps on our legs.
I sit up laughing. Grey lies there grinning up at me. He knows me so well, better than I know myself sometimes. He couldn’t have given me a more perfect gift.
“We’re going to have so much fun.” I say. “Travel the world, have adventures, maybe get in a little trouble now and then.”
“Trouble? With you in the mix, Orn Strongwing,”—a slow smile spreads his lips—“could there be any doubt? Luckily, you will always need your Guardian.”
“Wouldn’t dare make a move without him.” My hands reach for his, drawing him closer. Before I kiss him again, I look to the heavens.
Thank you.
Acknowledgements
As anyone who has ever traveled the road to publication knows, it takes a myriad of people to make a book happen. For me, the people who’ve assisted in this endeavor were as crucial for its life as air. If I could, I would buy them all cars, puppies, and wash their dishes after dinner every night. (I’m serious)
Alas, the following thanks will have to do.
For my lovely beta readers, Lois, Jill, Monique, Rebecca, Casey and Jen, you girls rock!
To my critique partners (aka the four horses of the red pen apocalypse) Kathleen, Julie, Aimee, and Claire, I’m more grateful than I can say.
Thanks to the amazing people at J. Taylor Publishing for taking a chance on me.
The talented pens sisters and folks over at Scribophile for their incredible critiques—their insight never ceases to astound.
To Blake and Maddie who serve as endless sources of wisdom, inspiration (and brutality), I’d be lost without you. XOXOX
Lastly, a special thanks to those who minister to individuals victimized by human trafficking, and the people committed to eliminating the commercial sexual exploitation of children.
Julie Reece
Born in Ohio, I lived next to my grandfather’s horse farm until the fourth grade. Summers were about riding, fishing and make-believe, while winter brought sledding and ice-skating on frozen ponds. Most of life was magical, but not all.
I struggled with multiple learning disabilities, did not excel in school. I spent much of my time looking out windows and daydreaming. In the fourth grade (with the help of one very nice teacher) I fought dyslexia for my right to read, like a prince fights a dragon in order to free the princess locked in a tower, and I won.
Afterwards, I read like a fiend. I invented stories where I could be the princess … or a gifted heroine from another world who kicked bad guy butt to win the heart of a charismatic hero. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of that? Later, I moved to Florida where I continued to fantasize about superpowers and monsters, fabricating stories (my mother called it lying) and sharing them with my friends.
Then I thought I’d write one down …
Hooked, I’ve been writing ever since. I write historical, contemporary, urban fantasy, adventure, and young adult romances. I love strong heroines, sweeping tales of mystery and epic adventure … which must include a really hot guy. My writing is proof you can work hard to overcome any obstacle. Don’t give up. I say, if you write, write on!
Available Now
Table of Contents
Reviews
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Acknowledgements
Author
Coming Soon
Table of Contents
Reviews
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Acknowledgements
Author
Coming Soon
