“Maybe she’s fallen off the edge of the world,” Erika offered.
“Maybe.”
Except they weren’t that lucky. Still, it was the first time he hadn’t been hounded since that December night and what a frickin’ relief.
“Clearly, you’re my lucky charm,” he said with a smile.
“I wouldn’t put too much faith in me. But I’m happy to be of service.”
As she ducked her head in a mock bow, he thought about the situation she was in with him in her house, in her life. Making love to her. Warming the couch in her basement and tucking a comforter that smelled like her around his naked, well-used body.
Before you leave me, let me know all of you.
He was fooling himself, wasn’t he. To think that there was any kind of future for them, full of countless hours like this, sitting together in her cellar. The fantasy had seemed so real when they’d been pleasuring each other. Now, it was back to being just figments in his mind. In his heart.
“You’re looking really serious all of a sudden,” she murmured. “Penny for your thoughts—or will I need a dollar?”
Taking another draw off the rim of her mug, he tasted the very best coffee he had ever had.
“I grew up in the Old Country,” he said. “Which is England, Wales, and Scotland for you. It was my cousins, Syn and Syphon, and me for the longest time, and then with another male, Zypher. After a while, we crossed paths with a fighter who was… well, he was a force of nature. He still is.”
“Who did you fight then?”
As they drank the coffee she’d made, he told her all about the Scribe Virgin and the Omega, the Lessening Society, the innocent civilians, the aristocracy, the King who would not lead. While the words tumbled out of his mouth, he was aware of rushing through the story, and yes, he edited things out. The Band of Bastards had been no one’s heroes. They’d survived in the woods with no permanent home, fighting because they liked to, feeding because they had to, fucking when they wanted to. Back then, he’d thought it was the only existence he needed, but then they’d come to Caldwell and things had changed.
“So there are vampires still in Europe?” she asked, her expression riveted.
“Not many.”
“And the lessers are those shadows?”
“No, they’re de-souled humans. The Omega used to induct them into his society, and they served him.” He shook his head. “You want to talk about nasty. They smelled like baby powder and roadkill—”
“The farmhouse, the other sites!” She motioned in the air. “The blood everywhere, the oil stains—that’s what it smelled like. Homicide’s been called to a number of these scenes over the years, and I never knew what they were. No one knew.”
“That’s the Omega. Or was. He’s no more. He was eradicated recently, thank fuck. Although”—he lifted his mug in toast—“naturally we have someone new we’re dealing with.”
“The brunette.”
“Yup.” He took a deep breath. “So that’s my story. I serve my King and my leader—he’s the one who was with us in the surgical RV, the one with the lip? I live with them and their families—well, I did until Devina got her hooks into me and I moved out. Anyway, that’s that. Oh, and yes, I’ve stolen some things along the way.”
“And given the money to charity.”
“That’s right.”
“For which you don’t feel bad.”
“Nope.”
Instead of getting on him, she smiled a little. “I can’t condone that.”
“I know. Just as long as you don’t expect me to turn over a new leaf.”
They both laughed, but it didn’t last, and that was when he knew she was thinking the same thing he was: That their future was limited.
“Now you know everything about me.” He paused. When she didn’t say anything, he tensed a little. “Yup. Everything.”
In the quiet that followed, she seemed to age before his very eyes, her face growing drawn, her eyes getting grim.
He stayed silent, hoping she would open up to him and tell him what he already knew because he’d been inside her mind. He wanted to offer comfort in the face of her tragedy, but unless she chose to welcome him into her sacred suffering and loss, he couldn’t do that.
Her privacy needed to be respected, even after he’d unintentionally breached it. All she’d willingly shared was a date.
“Quid pro quo, huh,” she said tightly.