“Now there’s nothing between us,” she whispered.
Flint looked at him. Like, really looked at him. From the broad forehead to the messy black hair she loved so much, to his blue-blue eyes rimmed in the red of his berserker, to the patrician nose and sharp square jaw, and her heart swelled with pride.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I swear I do.”
His lashes fluttered as he closed his eyes and breathed in deep. “Then why did you pull away, Flint? You can’t do that to me. You just can’t.”
Inhaling, she did what she’d wanted to do from the moment he’d taken off her shirt. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his chest. The sound of his heart was like a sonnet in her ears.
“I’m sorry. It just hurt.”
God, she was evil. Evil for keeping so much from him. A part of her hated Dean, hated what he’d done to her, even while another part of her loved him for it.
Death was merciless in his deals. She’d never even made the deal with him, or maybe she had, but all that was immaterial because her lips were sealed. Night after night she saw Cain poring over books, looking for any sign or trace that would lead them back to the hive and consequently to Layla.
And Flint knew.
Knew where Layla was right now. Knew how to find her. She knew so much. Grace and Dean had told her almost everything, things they swore they didn’t know about to the others.
She was a liar for keeping it from Cain, but she literally couldn’t speak of it either.
His fingers rubbed gently through the edges of her hair. “I’m sorry you had to make that choice, princess. I know that after what happened to your mother, it must have been terrible.”
Hearing him apologize to her was almost too much. It was partly why she’d kept her distance, because he knew her so well. Knew when she kept things hidden. He would soon figure out that Idris’s death wasn’t the only reason why she stayed away, and he would come to hate her for it.
Keeping up pretenses sucked, but she had to do it.
Cain was partly right though, the pain of losing Idris was all murkily tied in to the pain of watching her mother die.
How had he so easily fit the two pieces together?
But then her answer was clear. Because he was Cain, because he knew her almost better than she knew herself. This bond they shared, it wasn’t just a word or a feeling.
It was real and deep and probing. It’d been terrible closing herself off to him the way she had. She’d felt his yearning, his pain, but she hadn’t known how to forgive herself for what she was feeling where Idris was concerned either.
His thumb traced the line of her jaw, and he tipped her face up to meet his gaze. “You resent me. Resent us because of him.”
And there it was, in all its shameful glory. A part of her had felt resentment at the choice she’d been forced to make.
But owning up to it was scary as hell, so she shook her head. “I don’t.”
His lips thinned and she knew he knew, and it killed her that he did. Every couple had secrets. Had things they hid from each other because there was no sense in saying some things. There were little lies—of course those jeans look great on you—and then there were big lies like I don’t blame you for forcing me to choose.
“Baby”—his voice cracked—“don’t lie to me, because I already know. And it’s okay.”
The tears started coming. “How can you say that to me? How can you forgive me for feeling this way? I love Abel. And I love you.”
“But you loved him too. He was your cousin.”
“Yeah, but you guys didn’t force me to choose. My grandfather did. And over there Idris was more than just a cousin. He was like a brother. He called me his spirit.”
She shuddered as the words she’d kept bottled up for so long finally came pouring out.
“And you chose Abel because of me?”
“No.” She shook her head as he knuckled the tears from her cheeks. “You’re wrong there. I didn’t choose Abel because of you. I choose Abel because of me. Because of Janet. Because of the circus. Because he was needed.”
“And you regret it?”
Pursing her lips, she wondered what she should say. Deciding to search her heart for that truth, she looked. She did resent the choice, but did she regret it?
It was with a small measure of relief she was able to honestly say no. “No, I don’t regret it, but I do resent it. And it’s not you I’m mad at. It’s the fae. They tricked me. All of them. It was Idris who actually turned The Ciardah’s gaze. He’d been searching for me. To be his replacement.”
Flint poured her soul out to Cain, telling him everything, all the details she hadn’t had time to share during her stolen moments with him.
She told him of the gauntlet, of The Ciardah’s deception, of what it felt like to watch Idris’s life spill through her hands and of the sacrifice he made at the end to help her save Abel and bring him back.
“I loved him, Cain. In such a short amount of time, I loved him.”
He sat silent, simply rubbing his thumb across her shoulder blade rhythmically, as though the touch were grounding him, soothing him. It soothed her too, and for the first time in over a month she felt the panic, the fear of the ordeal she’d gone through, begin to lessen.
At least this burden was no longer hers alone; Cain was sharing it with her, giving her his strength and love back.
He looked at her. “It wasn’t a short time, Flint. It was months. More than long enough to develop a deep bond. If I could give him back to you, I would.”
She framed his beloved face in her hands. “For me over there, it was only days. But when I look back on it, it sometimes feels like an eternity. I’m sorry, Cain. Can you ever forgive me?”
Turning his cheek, he kissed her palm, and then grabbing one of her hands, he toyed with the webbing between her thumb and forefinger. “If I’d been in your shoes and been given a choice between saving you and saving Abel… Flint, I don’t think I could have survived it.”
She wouldn’t ask him who he would have chosen because she already knew. She was just grateful he’d never have to make that choice.
“I love you, princess. I always have. But from now on you have to promise me no more secrets. Not between us. Ever.”
“I feel terrible. It’s just that once I closed up, I didn’t know how to open up again. Idris fooled me, The Ciardah was a horrible man, and I didn’t know how to tell you that about Abel. I guess I worried that you’d hate me, or think I was selfish—”
Grabbing her gesticulating hands, he stilled them with a kiss, then quietly said, “I’m not a monster, Flint. Not with you. But you have to give me the chance to prove that.”
And just like that, all the pent-up fears flowed out of her. “I love you.”
“I know.” His lips twitched.
Snorting, she slapped his shoulder. “So, not planning to ask me if there was another guy while I was there?”
He shook his head. “I trust you.”
Her heart melted. Flint wasn’t sure what forever felt like, but if she was going to wax poetically about it, she figured it felt a lot like it did right now.
Safe. Steadfast. And warm.
She smiled. “Well, just so you know, I didn’t. Apart from Idris, they were all a bunch of jerks. Speaking of my cousin, he gave me another gift.”
He lifted a brow. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded. “Well, when I came back with Death that day and I went to my room, I found a book on it. An old, ancient book. He gave it to me, Cain. Somehow before he died, Idris sent that book to me. A book that finally shows me how to be me. You want to see something cool?”
His crooked grin made her heart beat an uneven staccato in her chest. How had she gotten to be so lucky to have the hottest guy in school fall in love with her?
“What?” he asked.
Closing her eyes, she called the ancient magic to her. She wasn’t a witch, there was no spell to chant, but there was a
n ability among the fae, one that helped them blend in with the mortals when they deigned to walk upon human lands.
It was called the veil. In layman’s terms, it was sort of like a wizard’s cloaking spell, turning one thing into something else. In her case, turning from an alien back into a human.
She felt the transformation move along her flesh like small electrical currents. When she opened her eyes, she looked into Cain’s stunned face.
“You look like you did before, back in school.” He whispered it with awe.
He ran his palms along her forearms where the markings should have been. Then up her biceps, across her breasts, and down the flat of her stomach before he picked up a strand of her hair and studied it.
Then with a small, disbelieving shake of his head, he grinned. “Is that magic?”
“Sort of, I guess.” She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s more like science though. I’ve rearranged the light around me so that you perceive me as I want you to perceive me. I’m sure I could even turn into a bug if I really wanted to. So,” she asked shyly, looking down, “do you like me better like this?”
“Hey.” He tipped her chin up, his gaze searching and revealing.
She knew the answer before he ever even spoke it, the bond between them as sure and strong as ever before.
“In any form you are, you’re perfect to me. But what about me, Flint? Do you still feel the same way you did? Do you wish you’d never left the fae?”
She answered him with a kiss. A kiss that soon turned into so much more.
It wasn’t easy letting go of the selfish pain she felt whenever she thought about Idris. The fact that her mate and her cousin would never meet hurt desperately, but she knew that just as things had happened with her mother, given time, the crippling pain would eventually scab over, becoming a permanent scar that sometimes ached—but only on rainy days.
She’d survive this too, because she’d survived worse.
Cain stood, twisting around so that now she was the one with her back pressed against the wall. His arms caged her in on either side, and she read the feral gleam in his eyes.
He wanted her. As a partner wanted his mate. And she wanted him just as desperately.
“I’m never going to lose you, Cain,” she vowed. “I’ll defy Dean himself to ever let him take you away from me.”
With a growl, he wedged himself in tight between her spread thighs, and in moments they were one.
This wasn’t sweet, simple, or gentle. But she didn’t want it to be.
This was all about letting go, giving in to their needs and desires, about realizing that time was finite and that sometimes no matter how tightly one clung to the other, sometimes things weren’t forever.
But for now they’d found forever in each other’s arms, and it was enough.
72
Flint
She knocked on Grace’s bedroom door.
“Come in,” Grace called out in a stroke-weakened voice.
It wasn’t possible that her grandmother should have survived two devastating strokes, and yet she had. But Flint knew it wasn’t because she’d miraculously been healed but rather because of the man who stood the moment she walked through the door.
Death was inside and waiting for her.
Flint looked between the two of them. “I need to tell him,” she whispered. “I can’t keep this secret any longer. He deserves to know.”
Death’s jaw clenched. It didn’t seem possible that such a cold being as Death would care for Grace as he did, and yet there was no denying the evidence of his actions.
It was Grace who spoke. She was propped up in her bed, her hair fanned out behind her on the pillow. “You know you can’t, my darling. Our silence is the only way to keep them safe.”
Flint bit her bottom lip hard enough to make her wince. Blood landed on her tongue as she said, “If I ask him not to do anything, he won’t.”
“Not even for you,” Death said, “would a man be able to forgive the crimes done by the hands of his own mother. Cain would avenge himself, Flint, thus inexorably altering the strands of this delicate future timeline. We can’t run the risk.”
“And so I have to continue to lie to him about where his mother is. That she’s a Triad spy and has been her whole life. Why tell me all this if all you needed was my silence?” She stomped her foot, squeezing her hands into fists by her side. “Why not just keep me in the dark about it like the rest of them?”
Death looked at Grace with a deep frown, as though confused himself. Which was such an uncharacteristic and odd look coming from him that it temporarily caused Flint’s anger to fizzle out.
Finally he sighed and said, “I’m not God. I can’t see everything. But I know that you are a pawn still in play, and that is all I know, Flint. For now your silence is demanded.”
She looked toward her grandma, hoping that maybe in her she could find an ally, but Grace’s gaze was unflinching and uncompromising. Neither of them had forced her silence or threatened her with the death of a beloved to keep her complacent—it’d been enough to know that merely keeping her mouth shut was insurance that her loved ones might still survive what was to come.
It wasn’t a guarantee of survival of course, but then nothing in life was ever really guaranteed. Still, if keeping the truth to herself upped Cain’s chances of walking away from this unscathed, then there was no choice.
She’d just have to figure out a way to deal with his inevitable disappointment in her.
“Whatever,” she hissed with a roll of her eyes before walking out more dejected and miserable than ever.
Cain
* * *
If someone had asked him right then what was the one thing he loved most in all the world, the only answer he could give would be Flint’s smile.
Her smile made him feel electric and alive, like he could do anything, be anyone, for her.
As though sensing what had taken place between them, the rest of the house had stayed clear of the bathing chamber, giving him and Flint the privacy they’d desperately needed.
It’d been a few days since their talk, and even though he sensed that there was still something else on Flint’s mind she hadn’t shared with him, things were different between them.
More open. She was giving to him in a way she hadn’t been before, holding back neither her feelings nor her body from him.
And Cain had taken full advantage of it. They’d made love at least three times this afternoon, possibly four. Things had gotten blurred together after a while.
There’d been teeth and nails and claws, but there’d also been gentle sighs and tender expressions of devotion. He hadn’t lied when he said he trusted her. He did, implicitly.
But after their time together, he was sure once again that he was still a valuable part of her life. One that she needed as desperately as he needed her. Flint had gotten under his skin, had dug herself deep into his dark and fractured soul, healing places inside him he’d thought forever lost when the change had taken him. She was his life now, and he’d do anything to make sure she always remained safe.
The bath had become their sanctuary away from the world. And here they’d found themselves again, but finally they’d been forced to get out due to growling stomachs. He’d taken care to dry her off, and she him, kissing and nibbling their way around each other, exploring one another’s bodies in ways they hadn’t before. For him, this was almost like a honeymoon.
Life had been so hectic since the day they’d met, and though Cain knew that death still waited at their door, for now he’d revel in the calm for however long it lasted.
Dressed, she latched onto his fingers with her own and tugged him gently toward the kitchen.
Adam glanced up when they walked in. He’d taken one look at them, grinned, and then muttered, “’Bout damn time,” before grabbing his sandwich and glass of water and heading out.
Flint blushed, looking down at her bare feet. “I can’t believe how cool he is with all thi
s. I seriously thought he’d have a cow after that night he found us in the woods.”
Knowing exactly to which night she referred, Cain snorted. “Considering Abel’s situation, that was the last thing on his mind.”
“Yeah, but now,” she said, then stuck just the tip of her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she squirted a glob of mustard onto her slice of fresh-baked bread.
Another one of Dean’s little gifts to Grace.
Cain shrugged, piling a nest of turkey lunchmeat onto the other slice of bread. Grabbing a tomato and head of lettuce, he cut a few slices off each and placed them on top of the mustard.
“I think he’d have more of a problem with this if you were actually human, princess.”
She snorted, then glanced up at him. “I am human, Cain.”
The vines on her arms shivered and the neon glow of her eyes snared him.
Flint laughed, the sound of it reminding him of the chime of bells. “Well, half of me anyway.”
Plopping the two pieces of bread down together, she took a knife and cut the sandwich down the center, giving him half of it.
Growling, he grabbed her wrist and brought her half to his lips, taking a mammoth chomp out of it.
She eyed it mutinously. “You’re a devil, Cain, do you know that?”
“What’s yours is mine, baby. Get used to it.” He winked and then everything devolved into a fit of laughter and flirting as they started up an epic food fight.
Dean walked in on them then, pausing in the doorway as though he’d just seen the face of Satan himself.
Flint wiped at a dab of mustard that’d settled on the tip of her nose. Her cheeks blazed scarlet, and Cain’s chest puffed out proudly.
He defied Dean to say something to them.
“Amoebas,” he sighed as though he’d just gotten a headache before turning on his heel and walking back out the door.
“Did he just—” Flint flicked a thumb over her shoulder, pointing to the door.
The Complete Tempted Series Page 81
