“You bet.” I passed him his cup.
“Where’s Faith?” he asked.
“Ben’s house.”
“I can’t believe you let her go.” He took a long pull from his cup.
“Neither can I,” I said. “I wanted to keep her to myself for a few days. Keep her safe.”
“What does that even mean anymore?” he asked.
“Exactly. Also, she’s still trying to deal with what happened the night we met. With who I was.”
“She needs space,” he said.
I nodded. She needed that, and she needed healing. I could imagine how she felt about me, about us. I could also well imagine the affects of being possessed by the Angel. Of understanding that she carried a sleeping god inside of her, one who could stir at any time.
How did anyone handle something like that?
“She’s gonna need all the love I can give her,” I said.
“Then she’ll do fine.”
“I hope you’re right, Red. I really do.”
He looked at me, his eyes filled with kindness. “What about Sunday?” he asked.
“She’s around.” I had no doubt she’d spend the day finding a place to live, or that she’d stay close.
“I like her,” he said. “Against my better judgment. I thought you should know.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. God, I needed to laugh.
Red took a step back, leaning against the gym window. I followed suit.
I could tell he had something to say. He took his time gathering it together. “You said last night that you thought you should quit,” he said.
“I meant it.”
“You said it a lot, so I kind of got that.” He took another sip. “I don’t want you to.”
“But—”
He interrupted. “No. We’ll think of something.”
I met his gaze. “I don’t understand why you’re arguing with me.”
He reached for my hand, twining his fingers with mine. “Because I don’t want to lose you.”
I shook my head. “You won’t.”
He seemed to relax a hairsbreadth, but only that much. “We have some things to work out,” he said. “A lot of things.”
We did. He had a lot of adjusting to do if he planned to spend time with—and fight alongside—someone like me. I had to figure out how to be with anyone, much less someone like him—someone who didn’t have the same traumas built into his DNA, who wanted to do right and preferred to do it according to a moral code not instilled in him by an organization of magical assassins.
“You’re only saying that because I’m a reformed killer harboring the Angel of Death and the end of the world is coming, aren’t you?” I asked.
He cracked the ghost of a smile. “I’m saying it because I have feelings for you, Night. They’re tangled with who you used to be, and who we were to each other that one terrible night all those years ago. I want to build something new.”
I moved his hand to my waist and let go, stepping closer until I could look into his eyes without so much distance between us. He saw into me so clearly, and not just because of magic.
I brushed my lips against his, tasting coffee and grass green and dark earth. He set down the bag on the sidewalk and lifted his hand to caress the back of my neck, sliding his fingers through my hair, drawing me closer.
Everything had changed; everything balanced on a knife’s edge. New threats. New life. New love. I embraced it with my whole being, with all that lived inside of me, with my whole soul. No one could take that away from me.
What I’d been looking for wasn’t inside the gym, or with Red, though I fully intended to give him whatever he’d let me give, and receive in turn. The fact that I had a heart to give, and a soul and a purpose that anchored me in this world, was nothing short of a wonder.
What I’d looked for had been inside of me all along. I’d traveled the distance of a lifetime searching for it, believing that it could be found in a place, or in the presence of another person. Not to discount the value of the gym—or especially of Red—but I finally understood that I carried this feeling with me wherever I went.
The place didn’t matter. Neither did the time. The one thing I needed to remember most, I held close in my heart. It echoed in my bones. One word, but that word was everything.
Home.
About the Author
Author of The Faery Chronicles and Night Awakens, Leslie Claire Walker grew up among the lush bayous of southeast Texas and now lives in the rain-drenched Pacific Northwest with a cast of spectacular characters, including cats, harps, and too many fantasy novels to count. She takes her inspiration from the dark beauty of the city, the power of myth, and music ranging from Celtic harp to heavy metal. Her short fiction has appeared in many magazines and anthologies.
Connect with Leslie
leslieclairewalker.com
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COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
NIGHT AWAKENS
Copyright © 2016 Leslie Claire Walker
Published 2016 by Secret Fire Press
Cover and Layout Copyright © 2016 by Secret Fire Press
Cover Design by Lou Harper
Cover Art Copyright © Lou Harper
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
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