by Linda Welch
My lips are dry, my throat wants to close up. Speaking is painful. “You can’t give me what I want.”
“Tell me.”
What do I want? I remember the dwarf couple in the cemetery and my pulse skips to a rapid tempo.
I want that.
I nearly died and now I want more from life, more than a partnership with benefits. Is it too much to ask? Why should I settle for less? Why shouldn’t I have a meaningful relationship?
But if I do, it will be on my terms.
I lift my chin defiantly. “I want a man who’ll never betray my trust in him and never, ever lie to me. He’ll make me laugh and laugh with me, not at me. He’ll understand sometimes I say one thing and mean another, and there isn’t always a reason I’m in a bad mood. He won’t try to change me and I won’t try to change him.”
Alain tucks his chin into his neck. “You’ve put a great deal of thought into what you want,” he says, trying to look solemn and failing.
No, I’m imagining a paragon of masculine virtue who can’t possibly exist, but my mouth won’t stop spouting ad lib. “And I haven’t finished.” I poke the air in front of his chest. “I want to walk down the street holding hands with my man. I want to dine with him in restaurants, have breakfast in cafés. I want us to go to the theater and skating in the park. And I want to be the one woman in his life.”
The corner of his mouth tics in a disarming smile. “You want to be courted? I will woo you to within an inch of your life and sanity.”
“Woo?” My hands settle on my hips. “I don’t want to be wooed!”
His voice turns serious again. “With your permission, I would like to try.” He steps forward.
I step back. I’ve accepted myself for who I am. I like myself, and manipulating my body is as natural as breathing. But I know how other Downsiders perceive us, creatures neither one thing nor the other, not whole. The entities who inhabit Downside are astonishing, many of them fearsome, some downright evil, but their nature is known and understood and therefore accepted. Downsiders don’t understand how wraiths can exist, don’t know if we are alive or dead. They fear what they don’t understand, and fear manifests in different ways, often as loathing.
The intimidating, powerful, fawned-over Alain Sauvageau publicly intimate with a wraith? No way.
“You, and a wraith? What will it do to your precious reputation?”
“I’ll survive. I don’t give a pixie’s ass what anyone thinks.” He holds his arms away from his sides. “I walked through Gettaholt like this. Do you know how many people saw me, looked again, laughed and whispered? Do I care? No.”
Does he mean it? Men like Alain Sauvageau stand or fall by their reputation. Doesn’t he realize his rivals may see a romantic relationship with a wraith as a lapse in judgment, a weakness, an indication he’s losing his grip?
He moves nearer and I stay where I am. His eyes, earnest and smoky, make me unravel.
I have to ask myself why, a moment from death, I wanted Alain more than I have ever wanted anything.
He holds his hand to me. “Rain, I will be proud to walk through Gettaholt with you at my side. I’ll never try to change you because you are perfect the way you are, and I will never intentionally hurt you.”
In a rusty voice, I repeat what Castle once told me. “Relationships are hard work.”
“Made of highs and lows, they don’t survive if you run away at the first sign of discord. We’ll laugh together, perhaps we’ll cry, and I’m sure we’ll fight. I won’t pretend it will be easy. Rain, we can’t predict what life together holds for us, if our feelings for each other will survive and grow, but don’t they deserve a chance?”
I don’t think I have been able to breathe properly since he arrived. Now I stop breathing altogether. He confuses me and turns my brain to mush.
I lift my hand to meet his. Our fingers mesh. I let him pull me in. His arms embrace me and I give myself up to them. I relax, perhaps for the first time in my life. My cheek is on his solid chest, I breathe in his slightly sweaty, woodsy male scent. Buffered by skin and flesh and muscle, I still feel his throbbing heartbeat. My arms snake around his waist.
Is there a future for us? I don’t know, and never will if I don’t give us a chance. This is it, a now or never moment. Life is an adventure, Rain, you have to take risks if you want the rewards.
He tilts my face with a finger under my chin and lowers his head. His eyes are on my lips.
“And you heard me say I want a monogamous relationship?” I want him to be sure of that part.
He angles his head up and laughs. “Only you, Rain. Is that it, or are there more stipulations?”
“Not right now, maybe later. Tell me one thing, Alain.”
“Anything.”
“I want the truth.”
“You’ll get it.”
“What are you?”
He smiles against my mouth. “A man, my darling. Only a man.”
Also by Linda Welch
Whisperings Paranormal Mystery Series
Along Came a Demon
The Demon Hunters
Dead Demon Walking
Demon Demon Burning Bright
Demon on a Distant Shore
A Conspiracy of Demons
Dark Urban Fantasy Short Story Collection
Femme Fatales
Dear Reader,
I want you to know how important you are to me. Without you, I’d be a writer who keeps her stories on a computer never to see the light of day. Your interest in my books encourages me and spurs me to write more.
You are also an important part of my publishing process. Yes, you are! Your feedback helps me shape future novels.
If you’d like to give me feedback, you can email me at [email protected]. Alternatively, you can publish a review where you purchased this book. But there is no obligation. I’d be delighted if you jump onto my web site http://lindadwelch.com just to chat.
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Thank you for spending precious dollars (or pounds, or Euros) on Downside Rain and taking the time to read it.
Acknowledgements
Thank you, thank you, triple thank you to my editor Ms. L; my copy editor Pam and my beta readers:
Brandi, Don, Donna, Ellen, Flo, Gaby, Janet, Jason, Jo, Mary, MaryAnne, Maureen, Misty C, Misty N, Precious Pete, Robby, Wendy. Hope I didn’t miss anyone.
Your awesome recommendations made this story grow and change for the better!
About the Author
Linda Welch was born in Hampshire, England. She lived in Idaho, California and New Mexico before settling in Utah. She now lives in a mountain valley, more or less halfway up the mountainside, with her husband and Scottish terrier. When not writing and depending on the season, she is usually walking the Scottie, filling the bird feeders, futilely attacking the weeds in her garden or shoveling out after a snowstorm. If you’re so inclined, you can visit her at http://lindadwelch.com where you can also sign up for notification of new releases.
