Jesse’s eyes blurred. “Did I?” She wanted to sit. She wanted to hurry after Aran. But she was covered in his blood and was probably already dripping onto Taylor’s rugs. “I didn’t know what to do!” she whispered as her tears spilled.
An arm came around her and held her. “You did just fine, Jesse,” Sydney told her. “Taylor, Marit. You, too, Alannah. Help me with her. She’s in shock, I think. A warm shower, clean clothes and food. Ah, London! You heard it, too?”
“So did Neven,” London said in her crisp accent. “Dear god, Jesse! What happened?”
“Out of the way, Elle,” Neven said. “We can wait for answers.”
Sydney and Taylor shuffled Jesse along. Jesse let them guide her because her vision was too blurred to see where she was putting her feet. The shaking hit her all over again.
Sydney helped Jesse into the bathroom and stayed on the stool while she stood in the hot water and shivered and sniveled, until the water ran clear. Taylor handed a pair of her jeans and a sweater through the door and Jesse dried herself and dressed. The jeans were too short on her legs.
“Still shaky?” Sydney asked.
Jesse nodded. “Is he…did I get here in time?”
Sydney didn’t nod or smile. “I don’t know yet,” she said, her tone frank. “I’ve been in here making sure you didn’t pass out and fall through the shower wall. We’ll know as soon as they do, Jesse.”
Jesse bit her lip and nodded.
Sydney followed her into the kitchen. Marit was at the stove, stirring a pot. “Chicken soup,” she called over her shoulder.
“And garlic bread,” Alannah said by the microwave, that pinged as she spoke.
Sydney pushed Jesse onto the solitary stool behind the peninsula. “Eat,” she said. “I’ll see if there’s any news.”
Marit poured soup into the bowl sitting waiting on the counter and slid the bowl in front of Jesse, and added a spoon. “You keep saying you’re basic human.” Her tone was chiding.
“I am,” Jesse said dully. She made herself pick up the spoon.
Alannah put the garlic bread in front of the soup bowl. “Not if you can shout across the timescape like you did.”
Jesse looked at her, startled.
Alannah was smiling.
“That’s why you all came?” Jesse said.
“You didn’t notice that everyone who arrived first was a jumper?” Marit said. “Even Neven, which will tickle him pink when he puts it together.”
Jesse tried to eat a spoonful of the soup. It was too hot. And the anxiety building in her gut was too overwhelming. She dropped the spoon back into the soup with a plop and slid off the chair. “I have to know,” she breathed and hurried across the house to the surgery.
The door was open and Sydney stood just inside it. Taylor hovered in the corridor and looked up at Jesse as she approached. “You’ll just be in the way,” she warned.
“I’ll stay back. I can’t just wait.” Jesse moved around her and edged into the room.
Sydney must have gone back to Granada on her way to the surgery, for Rafe was in there, too. The four men stood around the surgical bed Aran lay on. He was bare from the waist up, and the spotlight was trained upon the ugly wound in his side.
Two doctors, two scrub nurses and all of them looked grave. Alexander watched the readouts on the vitals monitor over the bed, frowning. The monitor was beeping, but the blips weren’t regular.
He glanced at Veris, who didn’t look any happier.
“If we could just stabilize him…” Alex said.
Jesse’s heart squeezed.
Sydney glanced at her, then shocked her by picking up her hand and holding it.
Jesse began to shake again.
“There’s always the last alternative,” Brody said, his voice hoarse.
“No!” Jesse said forcibly.
The four men turned to look at her, with a range of expressions from amazement to puzzlement.
“Why not, Jesse?” Sydney asked in her calm voice.
“He doesn’t want that. Not now,” Jesse said. She was dismayed to hear her voice break. “He wants to jump. He likes it. His whole life is set up around it. If you take that away from him, he’ll have nothing.”
Brody studied her, as Veris and Alexander looked at each other. “He’ll still have you,” Brody said.
Jesse felt the jolt down to her toes.
Veris cleared his throat. “Okay, Alex. Game on. You heard the lady.”
Alexander pulled the stethoscope from around his neck and tossed it toward the counter, then rolled his sleeves up even higher. “Jesse, Sydney said you shouted through the timescape.”
“If you say so,” Jesse said dully.
Alexander nodded. “Can you shout now? Talk to Aran? Sometimes, the thing that makes the solitary difference is the will to live. But he has to have a reason to want it.” His gaze was steady.
Jesse swallowed. “I don’t know how to reach the timescape. I’m not a jumper.”
Taylor said from the doorway, “I can get her there.”
Alex nodded, his gaze already pulling to Aran. “Do it. We’ll take care of the rest.”
Taylor tugged gently on Jesse’s elbow. “Come with me.”
Jesse followed Taylor into the front room. Taylor stood before her, her large brown eyes steady. “Once we’re there, you have to forget I’m with you. Do you know why?”
Jesse nodded. “I have to be myself. I have to be…real.”
Taylor gave her a small smile. “Better it stays between us, anyway.” She put her arm around Jesse’s back. “Ready?”
Jesse drew in a shuddering breath. “Yes.”
Taylor was just like Aran. She barely moved at all, yet the blackness slid over them. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t airless. It was nothing.
Taylor?
I’m here. Call to him. See if he answers.
Jesse turned her back on Taylor—mentally, at least. She wondered how she was supposed to do this. But she had “shouted” at the jumpers. What had she done then? She had sort-of leaned toward the house. She had warned them. She remembered calling to them, not with her mouth, but in her thoughts.
Ah….!
Jesse gathered her energy, as she had before, and in her mind, called out to Aran. It was inarticulate. Formless. But she could feel a part of her radiating outward. She poured herself into the stream and sent in onward, her heart aching.
Nothing came back to her. There was no answer.
I’ll take you back. Taylor’s mental voice was sad.
No! Jesse could feel the protest knocking against the inside of her mind. Let me try again.
This time, she didn’t have to puzzle her way through how to do it. She threw herself out across the timescape. If she had been light, she would have blazed with the power in her. If she had been sound, anyone who heard would have been deafened.
Jesse? Even Aran’s mental voice was weak.
Yes! Aran, you must hear me. You have to go back.
Back?
You have to fight. Do you remember getting hurt? The knife?
…yes. Then more strongly. Yes. And even though she could not really see or hear in that place, she knew that Aran was coming closer. Drawing to her.
Jesse braced herself. Now she knew why Taylor had warned her to forget that Taylor was there. Now she had to bare her soul.
You must go back, Aran. For me. You have to embrace the pain and live. Because I love you and I want you back.
He didn’t answer her in words. But she felt him envelope her. She was showered in a love so powerful that it radiated through her and warmed her. Her heart swelled. Her mind sighed. Peace spilled through her.
Humbled and happy, she opened her heart and answered him and he reflected her answer a hundredfold.
Jesse… he whispered, and the word quivered and throbbed. Then, I must go back.
Yes, she agreed softly.
His presence separated from her. Drifted away.
You’ll b
e there?
Every moment, she promised him.
Then he was gone.
Taylor came closer and swept Jesse’s presence along with her…
…and suddenly, they were back in the living room, both sitting on the floor, with Sydney standing over them, her hands on her hips.
“Thanks for the headache,” Sydney said dryly, pressing her fingertips to her temples.
Taylor winced as she got to her feet. “Small price to pay.” She held out her hand to Jesse. “You’ve got a promise to keep,” she said softly.
Jesse let her pull her to her feet and moved through the house to the surgery.
Brody waited at the door. “You spoke to him.” It wasn’t a question.
“How did you know?” For as far as Jesse was aware, Brody was not and had never been a jumper, as Neven had been before he was turned.
“Because Aran stabilized about two minutes ago.”
“Suddenly,” Veris added from over his shoulder, as he used a syringe to inject something into Aran’s IV.
Alex pulled a wheeled cart loaded with instruments around to the side of the bed closest to Aran’s wound. “Move your ass, doctor,” he told Veris curtly. He looked up at Jesse and gave her a small smile. “All that is left is to stitch him up, now.”
Brody squeezed her shoulder.
Jesse moved further into the room. “I promised I’d stay with him.”
“Then you’d better stay with him,” Rafe said and stepped out of the way. “Here.” He shepherded her to the head of the bed. “Veris can be Alex’s scrub nurse for the closing of the wound. He’ll backseat drive, anyway. He might as well be useful while he’s running his mouth.”
“Calumny,” Veris muttered, but he was watching Alex widen the wound with a sterile instrument, so he could work inside it.
Rafe moved over to Brody and tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s give ‘em elbow room.” He pushed Brody and Taylor out of the surgery and closed the door.
Jesse stayed in that spot for the three hours it took to close the wound, while Alex worked deep inside Aran’s gut, up through layers of organs and tissues and muscle fibers, to the skin itself.
Veris did backseat drive, but Alex didn’t seem to mind the suggestions. Perhaps he was used to it. The two conferred in a clipped medical shorthand and sometimes Alex even shook his head, as they worked steadily.
Jesse didn’t remember reaching for Aran’s limp hand, but found she was holding it. She didn’t look away. She had seen wounds aplenty.
When the wound was closed and stitched and Alex had pulled Veris away, Jesse was finally in the room alone with Aran. She pulled the blanket up over him, then dragged the wheeled stool closer to the bed and settled on it, her aching back and legs twinging. She picked up his hand and waited.
Chapter Nineteen
Aran woke seven hours later, although Jesse didn’t know how much time had passed right then. She had spent the waiting time reviewing her life, especially the years since she had met Aran and his family, and her odd position in it.
It appalled her to realize how much she had operated on autopilot, too afraid to tap into her real feelings about anything.
During the waiting hours, people would stop by to check on Aran—that was usually Alexander, and sometimes Veris, and once, Taylor—or to bring her food or coffee. Marit brought a warmer blanket for Jesse to put around her shoulders and a pillow for her to rest on the edge of the bed, to sleep, if she wanted. Jesse knew she couldn’t sleep but was touched by the pillow and blanket. She was more deeply moved by Marit’s silent, hard hug, before she hurried away with her eyes sparkling suspiciously.
Aran stirred, with a soft groan. His fingers tightened over her hand.
Jesse sat up, her breath catching, and watched his eyes. Her own were aching with more tears. She blinked rapidly to clear them. She didn’t want to miss a single moment, right now.
She knew he was properly awake when his gaze slid to her face. The corner of his mouth curled up. “Hey.” His voice was hoarse. “Right where you promised,” he added.
Her breath caught. “You remember!”
“I won’t ever forget,” he whispered. He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against the back of it.
“How long?” she demanded.
Aran didn’t try to pretend he didn’t understand. “I’ve loved you forever, it feels like.”
Jesse shuddered.
“I knew for sure when you nearly died in that alley,” he added.
“You said nothing,” she breathed.
“There wasn’t any point. You had zero room in your life for anyone.”
Independent. Solitary.
“So I waited,” Aran finished.
“I did have room.” Her voice was hoarse. “I just didn’t know it.”
Aran’s gaze slid toward her.
“The book,” she blurted. “I told you I didn’t know why I wrote it. That’s the way it works for me. I have to write things down to figure out how I feel about them. I think with the keyboard. So, I wrote the book. That’s how it came out. Only my subconscious refused delivery. So I tucked away the whole mess, and pretended it was a silly book about nothing, and hid behind a pen name, too.”
Aran was listening. His gaze was steady. “Why?”
This was the part she had spent the last few hours turning over and over. She couldn’t write, not with one hand in his, so she had made herself think without the prop. With time, everything had become clear.
“I spent my adult life following orders, not having to think too much about anything. I heard all the horror stories about ex-pats not being able to adapt to civilian life. They wash their lives down the toilet. Drugs. Drink. Suicide. Or they find some faux military life with a mercenary outfit and die an ugly, unsung death in some noxious place on the planet. I was determined I wouldn’t be like that.”
“You didn’t come even close to that,” Aran whispered.
“But I did,” Jesse breathed. “I got out and I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to cope, so everything that wasn’t me thriving was jettisoned. I offloaded everything, in order to survive…and that included you.”
She hung her head. “But it came out through the book, and even then, I didn’t have the guts to admit it.”
Aran tugged on her hand. “Look at me.”
Jesse made herself look at him. “I always thought of you as…off-limits. You’re a jumper, part of the family I would die to protect, a beloved son. It felt wrong, somehow.”
“Because you think you’re unworthy,” Aran breathed.
Jesse tried to laugh. It came out shaky. “Stupid, I know. But I still feel that way. Not that it’s wrong, exactly. But like I don’t deserve you.”
Aran’s fingers closed around her hand again. “And you don’t want to be dependent upon anyone.”
She shook her head quickly. “Such a stupid, stuck up, idiotic idea… I didn’t know how deeply I’d already been tangled up in your life. You and your family. I’ve been dependent upon you guys for years. Since I got out, really. I wouldn’t have survived as a civilian without you in particular. I don’t know if you remember that…” she hesitated.
“Portland,” he said flatly. “I kept all of it, Jesse. Even the stuff I knew would make you cringe. I just let you think I couldn’t remember.”
She sighed. “I guess you get to love all of me, not just the parts I think worthy.”
“That’s right.” His voice was rough.
She put her hand over his fingers where they curled against hers. “I’ve been in total denial for a very long time.” She looked up. “I love you, Aran. So much, I can’t examine it too closely. It makes me sheer away in shock. I have to take it in pieces.”
“If you’re willing to take me, Captain Hall, you can have me in any damn way you want.” His voice was hoarse.
Jesse stood and kissed him…not too thoroughly, for he gasped at the movement, and not in a good way.
Aran reached for her han
d once more. “By the way. Back on Canal Street…”
It was her turn to wince. “Why on earth did you tackle them by yourself?” she demanded. “You know perfectly well I could have handled them.”
“You can,” he said, his tone one of agreement. “It doesn’t mean you have to. Not while I’m there.” His gaze met hers. “Never while I’m in your life.”
Warmth touched her. It spread through her. Jesse realized she was smiling.
She was happy.
Then Aran frowned. “You took the second guard at the door,” he said. “That was supposed to be my guy.”
Jesse giggled. It turned into laughter and Aran joined her, even as he winced and hissed in pain.
Chapter Twenty
Winter Solstice. Granada, Spain.
When the human meal had ended, but the feast was still far from over, Jesse pushed her chair back from the table. Aran pulled his closer to hers and took her hand. He did that a lot, these days. She didn’t mind a bit, either.
She smiled at him and waited for the first toast to be made. The toasts were always many, usually long, often inventive and frequently funny.
“Before you start the ball rolling, Rafe,” Aran called.
Rafe, at the head of the table, lowered the glass he had raised. “Yes?”
“There’s something else I want to do first.”
Jesse leaned away from him and peered at him. “What are you up to?”
“Trust me,” Aran said. He turned her chair even though she was on it, showing his strength. When she was facing him, he picked up both her hands. “Jesse…”
Jesse’s breath froze. Her heart swooped.
“Aran, no!” Taylor called, sounding scandalized. “Not here.”
Aran’s gaze didn’t shift from Jesse’s eyes. “Yes, here,” he said. “Right here in front of everyone. We’ve done too much hiding, both of us.”
Happiness made her dizzy. Her throat hurt. Jesse nodded in agreement. “Yes, here.” Her voice was bodiless.
The room was still, for vampires could remain still in a way that humans could never manage. But even the children at the table stopped kicking at their chair legs and wriggling with impatience to be away to play somewhere else.
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