She caught sight of the dark silhouette and sighed. She’d known he was here, but had hoped that for once her senses were misfiring and he was actually back home in a warm, dry room with sane things like blankets and books.
Taking a deep breath to strengthen her resolve, she stepped up onto the ledge and stood next to him for a minute without either speaking.
The city was breathtaking tonight—everything so quiet and peaceful, shining, still. Every great now and then a police cruiser or other car would pick its slow way along Congress and its headlights would burst into dancing color in the prisms of ice covering everything. The winter had been harsh in Central Texas, but she could feel deep in her bones that here in late February the worst was over. Spring would be here in a few weeks and the world would erupt in wildflowers that her kind could never see.
“It’s late,” she said after a moment. “Come home to bed. The boys are already there warming it up.”
He nodded. “I know.”
He was a closed book, her Prime, to everyone but her. “They don’t have to stay,” she said carefully. “They just wanted to see you for a bit.”
“It’s all right. I want them to stay.”
“Okay. Come on, then—it’s freezing.”
There was the tiniest flicker of a smile. “You mean you’re freezing.”
“Well, obviously. But you are too, I can tell.”
His breath puffed out in a cloud. “Thank you.”
“For what? Telling you you’re cold? Someone has to.”
“No…that’s not what I meant. I know things aren’t…”
Miranda sighed and resisted the urge to reach for his hand. “It’s okay, baby. You’re doing the best you can, and you’re doing better. We’re going to be all right…all of us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. We’re the goddamn Tetrad. We can do anything.”
Again, the flicker. “I admire your faith.”
“I don’t need faith. I know it’s true.”
Another pause before he said, “I love you.”
“I love you too. But I’d love you more if I could feel my nipples.”
It had been far too long since she’d heard him laugh, and the sound made her feel warm from the inside out for the first time in weeks.
“All right, all right,” he said, turning away from the view and toward her. “You win.”
He hopped down off the ledge, and to her surprise, held out a hand to help her down. She was wearing gloves but she could still feel how cold his fingers were; she held onto them and stepped down, taking his hand in both of hers and rubbing it to thaw it out.
“I’m all right,” he said, squeezing her fingers.
“Liar,” she muttered, intent on her task.
Again, a shock; he touched her face, lifting her chin, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched her, but such simple gestures of affection had become rare enough that she craved them, constantly afraid that the easy intimacy of their life together was lost forever.
“All right, I’m lying,” he said into her hair. “I’m not really all right. But I will be.”
“How do you know?”
This time the smile was real, though it was weary, and touched with sadness. “I don’t know. But I have faith.”
“In Persephone?”
He shook his head slowly. “No. Faith in you, my Queen. Always in you.”
She smiled back. “Good answer.”
“Let’s go home.”
Still holding her hand, he led her away from the frosty night and into the Mist.
Shadow Rising (The Shadow World Book 7) Page 36
