by HR Moore
'No!' She threw him a chastising look. 'Say what you're really thinking. I feel like you walk on eggshells around me, scared you might offend me. I know I've been crying a lot, but I'm not fragile.'
Caspar took a deep breath. 'I know you're not, and I'm not walking on eggshells.'
Amari arched an eyebrow.
'Honestly. It's … I don't know how to act around you. I can't act the way I want to … the way I used to …
'If you were awake, I would've given you hell for the shit you pulled earlier. But now, it wouldn't be fair; you didn't know any better.'
'You would've given me hell?' teased Amari.
'And then some.'
Amari cocked an eyebrow. 'I would've liked to see that.'
'That's nothing compared to the things I'd like to see.'
Amari's stomach contracted. She looked into Caspar's tortured eyes.
'You really want me to tell you what I'm thinking?' he said.
'Yes,' she breathed.
Silence descended as each studied the other, eyes locked, air tense, loaded with adulterous potential.
Amari looked away, inhaled, broke the spell. 'Thank you, for showing me the artifacts.'
She'd had four flashbacks in total, including the ones from the desk and the wedding cup. The third had been because of a fur muff, and had shown her a midwinter festival, where she'd danced with Caspar under the stars, fires blazing all around.
The fourth had been in response to an elaborate Asian dagger with a swirling flower pattern across the handle and sheath. In the memory, Raina had thrown the dagger, and it had lodged in a woman's back. Amari had never felt rage like it, and had come back to the present consumed by bloodlust. She'd been unable to concentrate after that, so had gone to find Meredith for a training session, needing an outlet.
'They're as much your things as they are mine,' said Caspar, 'and anyway, I want you to wake up as much as you do. Maybe even more.'
'I wish more of them had brought back memories.'
'We don't remember everything,' said Caspar. 'A demon's brain isn't any bigger than a normal person's, and I'm sure there are things you can't remember, even from this single lifetime, let alone things that happened hundreds of years ago.
'The things we remember the best are steeped in emotion: rage, despair, love, lust, guilt, happiness. The emotions around the memory need to be strong enough to break through. Raina may have forgotten many of those artifacts entirely.'
'The gold bangle you showed me … what did you want me to remember?' Caspar had looked particularly hopeful when he'd slipped it onto her wrist, desperate almost.
His eyes lit up with impish delight. 'You'll remember when you wake.'
'Spoil sport.'
Amari leaned back and looked up at the stars above the bed, the flashback they'd caused coming back to her.
'Who was Jamie?'
'Jamie?'
'When you first left me alone in here, those stars brought back a memory. I was lying on the beach, staring at the stars, waiting for someone called Jamie. I was in a pink evening dress and he wore a tuxedo. We both had American accents.'
Caspar was up and moving before Amari had time to blink.
'Caspar? What is it?' She hadn't even told him about the kiss …
He turned to face her as he swung the door open. 'You want me to tell you what I'm thinking?'
'Um … yes?'
'I'm thinking I'm going to kill Rose.'
Caspar stormed into Rose's office, not caring that she was in the middle of a meeting with Meredith, Gemma, and the rest of the bodyguards.
'You lied to me,' he roared.
Rose calmly took in Caspar's words, then flicked her eyes to Amari, who stood by the door, looking confused and guilty.
Rose's mouth quirked into a hard smile. 'You're going to have to be a little more explicit, I'm afraid.'
'You told me Raina wasn't in any danger.'
'Could you narrow it down to a lifetime, at least?'
'The last one, or the one before. Hopefully it'll be fresh in your memory.'
'And what particular danger would you like to discuss?'
'You sent her to America, to the Templars.'
'Ah,' said Rose. 'Raina accompanied me to America for talks with the Templars. As I recall, it wasn't especially dangerous.'
'Then why was she waiting for Jamie alone on the beach?'
Rose furrowed her brow, eyes flicking once again to Amari. 'Now that, I couldn't say,' she said.
'You expect me to believe that?'
'I don't give a damn what you believe. We went to America, the talks were disappointing, we came home. It was two lifetimes ago. Raina was there to gain intelligence. Given her relationship with Jamie, she was the ideal person to take along.
'I didn't know she met him on the beach at night. That seems to me a needless risk, although I'm sure she had her reasons. We can only speculate about what those were until Raina comes back to us … unless Amari has anything further she can add?'
'Um … no,' Amari said awkwardly. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause any upset.'
'I could never work out why the Templars killed Raina in her last life,' said Caspar. 'Why would they go to the trouble? They could have killed her—eternally—and you knew something but chose to keep it from me.'
Rose took a deep breath. 'You're understandably upset. But, as you know, I have little tolerance for theatrics. We don't know for sure that it was the Templars who killed her. My advice would be to stay focused on bringing Raina back. And before you do anything rash, I suggest you consider what Raina's reaction to that rash behavior will be, once she wakes. You've been in the doghouse for some time and say you'd like to be let out. I'd think about that, if I were you.'
'I need answers.'
'Then wake Raina up and get them.'
Caspar thundered out of the room, leaving Amari standing in the doorway, shell shocked. One minute everything had been fine, more than fine—he'd started opening up to her—the next, it had all blown up in her face.
'He has a tendency to let his emotions get the better of him, at least where you're concerned,' said Rose, whose tone indicated that Amari was dismissed.
Amari gave an uncertain half nod, then followed Caspar back upstairs. She hesitated when she reached the landing outside their bedrooms. He'd been so angry. But more than that, he'd been hurt, and she'd caused it; she hadn't stopped to think. Of course he would be upset by Raina meeting another man on the beach at night. Wouldn't she fly off the handle if her husband had been doing the same?
She steeled herself, then knocked on his door. Several moments passed. Amari began to wonder if he'd gone out. Maybe to get some air. Maybe to find someone to spar with.
She was about to turn away, to go back to her room, when a floorboard groaned. Caspar swung the door open, fixing her with a cold, impassive stare. He didn't invite her in.
'I'm … uh.' She was taken aback by this new side to him, with his closed expression and hostile body language. Tension filled the air, and not the romantic kind. He'd been nothing but considerate, accommodating, and lenient with her … until now.
Her stomach sank, dread gnawing at her insides. If he turned away from her, refused to help her, what would she do? What would happen to her? Who would care? The thought scared, no … it terrified her.
'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I shouldn't have told you. I should've thought about what I was saying.'
'I'm glad I know.'
'Right,' said Amari, his short answer compounding her fears. 'Is there … ah … anything else I can do? To wake Raina, I mean.'
Caspar looked squarely into her eyes, his expression unreadable.
'You can kiss me.'
Amari drew back, shocked by his tone: it was pure challenge. He wanted to get under her skin, to fight, to vent his anger, and it made Amari forget her fears, made her see red.
'Goodnight, Caspar. I hope, for all our sakes, that your mood has improved by the morning.'
Amari had to re
sist very hard the temptation to slam her bedroom door. She threw herself furiously onto the bed, looking up at the troublesome stars, made ever angrier by the knowledge that sleep was a distant dream.
Amari woke up late the following morning. By the time she made it downstairs, the others were finishing breakfast, discussing something intently.
'As soon as Midsummer's over,' said Rose, 'I'm sending envoys to all nations. We need to gather allies … the Templars want war.'
'There's nothing else we can do?' said Elliot. 'There's no way to make a deal?'
'They'll only deal with Raina,' said Rose. 'It's been that way since Jamie took over. So, unless they change their stance, no, I don't think so.'
Amari felt the guilt again. It irritated her; she was doing everything she could.
You can kiss me.
Well, almost everything.
'There's no way Raina can go to the Templars. They killed her in her last life,' said Caspar.
'He's right,' said Rose. 'There's a high chance they'd kill her on sight.'
'Why?' asked Jon. 'What happened? I thought they liked Raina?'
Amari walked to the Aga and put the kettle on to boil. Every head swiveled towards her.
'Morning,' she said.
'Morning,' the others chorused.
Amari grabbed the teapot from the table. 'I'd like to know that too,' she said. 'What happened with the Templars?'
'I'm afraid I don't know,' said Rose. 'One minute you were a key part of our team to build relations, the next, you were dead.'
Silence descended as Amari filled the teapot. It was so uncomfortable she felt the room might combust.
'Where are you sending us?' asked Elliot.
'I'm working through the details,' said Rose, 'but I need to go to the Registerium before deciding anything. Hopefully we won't have to act without their backing.'
'Did you find anything from the attack?' asked Amari.
The whole table turned their attention back to her.
'No,' said Meredith. 'The CCTV footage wasn't great. Neither of the attackers matched the one from the attack in Caspar's office. And although they had wrist cuffs, we couldn't make out what was written on them.'
'We checked the admissions records from every hospital within a hundred miles,' said Gemma. 'Several patients were admitted with knife wounds, but none of them matched the description of your attacker.'
'Any facial recognition matches?' asked Amari.
'No,' said Rose, taking a heavy breath. 'Not for any of them.'
Chapter 10
The next week passed in a blur of training, eating, and memory hunting. The others had taken to telling Amari their favorite Raina memories, most of which felt familiar, but none of which resulted in a flashback.
Caspar had apologized for his behavior, and they'd fallen into a steady daily rhythm. They got up early, trained, ate breakfast, worked through artifacts, had lunch, trained again, worked through more artifacts, ate dinner, then sat around reading or chatting with the others.
They kept busy, but by the end of the week, Amari was frustrated and full of angst. She felt trapped in Cloister Cottage … and inside her own head.
Amari had had more flashbacks, and Caspar said there were more flecks of gold in her eyes. But she didn't feel any different.
Caspar filled her in on Rose's plans, answered her endless questions, and talked with her for hours, but something had shifted, those words always between them: You can kiss me.
Amari had had extensive internal conversations on the topic. She could quite easily kiss him, like an actor would kiss an onscreen lover. But that's not how it would be. Even if it was for her, it wouldn't be for him. And she had too many conflicting emotions about him, not least because she was still married.
Still married. That's how she'd come to think about her relationship with Dean, like it was something that would come to an end. She couldn't bring herself to say the words out loud, nor think about the details, not yet, but her marriage was going to end.
She'd only spoken to Dean twice, and had ignored the rest of his calls. Each time, the distance between them increased.
Leila had called her five times, leaving a message each time. She wanted to know where Amari was, if she was okay, and what was going on with Dean. Dean had called Leila, asking where Amari was. She'd told him the truth: that she didn't know, and that she was worried.
Amari couldn't bring herself to speak to her cousin. What would she say? That she was working for the government? Leila would pick that story apart in seconds. And Amari had to distance herself from everyone she loved; she didn't want to put them in danger.
But there was a part of her that still wouldn't let her believe in the Pagans, in reincarnation, in her lives with Caspar. Despite all the things she'd seen, and felt, a part of her wondered if she was just some pawn in a bigger game: it could be a cult … they could be drugging her … she could be mentally ill.
'Amari?' asked Caspar. He leaned against the headboard. He'd come into her room after dinner, needing to collect a book.
'Sorry. Lost in thought.'
'Anything I can help with?'
'No.'
'Are you ready for tomorrow? Do you need Meredith to get anything else from your house?'
'She went earlier,' said Amari. 'I'm all set. I can't wait to get out of here, and I'm excited to see Maltings.'
'Me too,' said Caspar. 'We've been cooped up here for way too long, and it's so beautiful there.'
'Tell me about it,' said Amari, leaning back and closing her eyes.
A comfortable silence settled over them. Caspar's suggestion that she kiss him, for once, wasn't making her uneasy. Maybe she was too tired for such inhibitions—the last few days had been relentless, draining. She was exhausted, could feel sleep tugging at her, awareness of her surroundings diminishing.
'Amari?' Caspar said, his voice low.
Seconds passed before Amari realized he'd said anything. Her conscious brain had to swim against the tide, back to the surface.
She tried in vain to put together a response, but soon forgot what she was struggling to do, her thoughts slipping back to the depths.
Darkness circled. She gave in.
Amari's head slid to one side, coming to rest on Caspar's shoulder. Caspar shifted, about to move away, but she frowned in protest, wriggling her head against him to get more comfortable.
He could stay for a few minutes—until she was properly asleep—and then slip away.
'Okay,' he breathed, wrapping an arm around her, more to himself than to her, resisting the temptation to bury his nose in her hair.
Caspar woke the following morning to find himself lying on Amari's bed. His arm was around her, her head on his shoulder, her leg slung over his. His heart pounded, every nerve in his body savoring the contact. He'd been craving the feel of her against him for longer than he could bear to remember. He hadn't been like this, with her, for two agonizing lifetimes. He didn't dare move a muscle lest it end.
He breathed her in, fighting the urge to wrap his other arm around her, to press her more fully against him, or tip back her head and lift her lips to his.
He closed his eyes, cherishing these snatched moments, which would surely come to an end as soon as Amari opened her eyes. He fought the despair of that thought, focusing instead on where their skin touched, on the sparks careening through his blood, setting him on fire.
Amari stirred, then stiffened.
Caspar held his breath, praying she wouldn't immediately push herself away.
She shifted her weight.
He fought the urge to hold onto her, disappointment coursing through him as he felt her pulling back. But then she relaxed, her hand settling on his chest, the weight of her head returning. Caspar breathed a deep sigh of relief.
'Good morning,' said Amari, playing with a button on his shirt.
His mind went blank, unable to focus on anything but her fingers, willing her to continue.
'I had
the most invigorating dream,' she said, her tone flirty, fingers walking to the next button.
Caspar caught her hand, halting her movements. He rolled her onto her back, rolling half of the way with her, looking down into her eyes.
'Don't tease me, Amari. Not if that's all you're going to do.'
She looked seductively up at him, dropping her gaze from his eyes to his lips, then back again.
'Kiss me,' she breathed.
Caspar's heart nearly stopped. 'Do you mean that?'
'Yes,' she said, moving her hand to his neck, drawing him down to her.
Caspar's breath hitched. He couldn't comply fast enough, and their lips crashed together. He came alive at the contact, every sense heightened, every nerve alert, unleashed desire chasing through him.
There was nothing gentle about it, his lips demanding everything of hers, their mouths opening together, fitting perfectly, somehow knowing what the other wanted. Amari moaned and the sound resonated to his core.
He rolled on top of her, his weight pushing her into the mattress, and she moaned again, her hips lifting to meet him. Every part of him sang. He wanted her more than life itself.
'Wait,' Amari breathed, between kisses. Her hands were on his chest, pushing him back.
'What?' he rasped, moving his mouth to her neck.
She gasped. 'Caspar, we should stop.'
It took every ounce of self-control he had to pull back from her, craving her touch as soon as he broke contact. He put his head in his hands, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
'Hey,' she said, pulling his hands from his face, holding onto them. 'What is it?'
'I …' he looked away. Did she regret the kiss?
'Caspar,' she said, leaning in, kissing him again, a deep, slow, reassuring kiss.
It turned heated, and this time Caspar pulled away, because otherwise he'd pull her onto his lap. And if that happened, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop.
Amari pressed her forehead against his, her hand on his neck. 'I'm so confused. I've only known you for a week, but it feels …'
'You've known me a lot longer than a week,' he said, running a hand down her cheek.
