Текст книги "One Immortal"

Автор книги: Tia Louise

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

What the fuck is she afraid of? We’d never rat out a witch for helping us.

“Maverick won’t know you helped us if that’s what’s worrying you.” Stuart strides across the large, open studio, stopping directly in front of her.

His enormous frame dwarfs Star’s petite one. She’s a tiny witch, but power ripples off her in waves. We both know not to underestimate her.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” she smiles, narrowing those cat eyes. “I follow the rules.”

“Fuck that.” Stuart throws his hands up and crosses away again.

“Listen,” I say, turning toward her. “As much as anyone, I know the importance of procedure, especially in our line of work.”

“A vampire is nothing to fuck with. They know everything that happens, and their revenge is swift and painful.”

“If you help us find him, we’ll finish him.” My voice is deadly serious, and she studies my face several moments.

“Why do you want him dead so much?”

“He threatens the woman I love.”

Stuart’s eyes snap to mine. It’s a pretty bold statement, considering I’ve only known Melissa a few days. Maybe I mean it, maybe I’m still deciding. It’s what we need to get what we want, and shit. I’m at least committed to finding out if it’s true.

Star pushes out of her chair at this, walking slowly around the open space. “I know about you, Mr. Alexander. I’ve watched your career from afar.” I’d ask her what the fuck, but she doesn’t allow it. “Your wife’s death sent you on a mission. Now, all of a sudden you’re shifting focus?”

It’s my turn to study her for a moment. Her eyes are lit with what seems to be anger. “My career has always been about justice,” I answer carefully. “Nothing has changed, least of all my focus.”

She’s not satisfied, but she is respectful of my position. Witches are crafty, but they appreciate the importance of dedication.

“The new one entered the city from the north.” She walks toward the wall of windows near where Stuart stands. “He arrived shortly after another old one left… or was killed.”

A long pause, and I’m sure I hear the high-pitched shrill of insects while she allows us time to confess. We don’t.

“He arrived last night or this morning,” Stuart says. He doesn’t like playing games, and he’s never been long on patience.

“Last night,” she says, flicking him a glance. It’s clear she prefers the company of his little brother. “The storm preceded his arrival.”

“We wouldn’t ask you to accompany us, but if you could give us an approximate location in the city—”

“He’s where they all go.”

“We’ll track him down.”

They all go to the cemetery, but in New Orleans that could mean one of five disparate places filled with row upon row of aboveground crypts. Still, I’m not in the mood to haggle with this witch anymore, especially if she’s been watching me.

“Good luck, hunter,” she says with a purr. “I’ll be waiting to see your next move.”

Back out on the street, Stuart wastes no time giving me hassle. “What the fuck got you on her radar?”

“Hell if I know,” I grumble, thinking about what we know now.

Melissa’s maker is in the city, no doubt looking for her. I can’t leave her unguarded. Hell, I might be in love with her for all I know, which makes matters worse. It makes me more vulnerable.

“Did you mean what you said back there?” My partner’s voice is the kindest I think I’ve ever heard it. He’s thinking about my declaration of love.

“Maybe.” It’s the best I can do. My feelings for Melissa are strong, but as anyone can tell you, three days isn’t enough to know shit. “She’s special. I want to know her better.”

“What about Sloan?” My mind travels back to my life’s work for the past six years. Finding Alison’s killer, finding justice—it’s what I’ve been working toward so long. Yet, in view of the situation…

“He’s not going anywhere,” I say. He doesn’t even know we’re after him.

Walking along the flagstone pavements of Riverside, we’re west of Canal Street, several blocks from our hotel. Even further from the rest of our group.

“No matter what, helping Melissa is the right thing to do,” I say with sudden conviction. “We’re about justice. She was forced. We have to set her free.”

My partner nods, and we continue walking in silence. Comfortable silence is something Stuart and I have always shared, since our days in the desert, watching the monotonous beige sand for signs of threat. Since the day he carried me out on his back.

“Any idea how you want to do this?” He knows as well as I do stealing a hybrid from its maker is like punching your fist straight into a hornet’s nest.

“One of the voodoo queens sent her granddaughter. She has the makings of a cure.”

“He won’t let us use it.”

Nodding, I study the tracks of the streetcar leading ahead of us. Shiny brass lines running through the asphalt streets. I hadn’t brought it up at lunch. I hadn’t wanted to frighten Melissa or curb the group’s optimism.

“We have to face him ourselves.” My voice is solemn, but we’ve been here before.

Stuart stretches with a laugh. “You’re giving me a workout this trip.”

“It’s what we do.”

His eyes level on mine, and we’re both serious. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

With a nod, I turn off toward Bourbon Street.

12

All of Me Melissa

Back in our hotel room, I’ve locked the doors and pulled the curtains. Thankfully, the windows have been replaced with sealed glass. Derek texted he’d meet me in the lobby in ten minutes, and after asking me fifty times if I would be okay, Elaine finally left to spend the night with Patrick.

It only gave me a few moments to touch up my makeup and smooth a brush through my hair. I changed into a thigh-high, silky black dress with a plunging back that goes all the way to my waist in a deep V. My hair is twisted up in a knot showing off the lines of my shoulder blades.

I’d blame the heat in the city, but the truth is in spite of everything happening around us, my heart thrums at the thought of seeing Derek again. I want to allure him. I want him to crave me. I want him counting the seconds until we’re alone again together… Just like I do.

My cheeks pink at these thoughts. We’ve only known each other a few days, but when I’m with him, I’m a swirling mix of bravery and nervous excitement. He doesn’t push—he doesn’t have to. My insides move to him, and his strength provides the most erotic sense of safety.

Waiting by my closed window, I try to remember him as a stranger to me. I can’t do it. We’ve shared too much. He knows everything I’m fighting, and he’s committed to helping me win.

Not only that, he’s the most extravagant lover I’ve ever had. He’s curious and exploring and dominant and surprisingly kinky. He puts me in control while at the same time taking control away, but I’m never afraid or intimidated.

Is it possible to fall in love so fast? I don’t know. I’ve always approached relationships slowly, deliberately. The uncertainty of my life caused me to take a chance with him that first night. I believed I didn’t have the luxury of time, but what started as a final, heavenly indulgence has grown into something much more. Still, even now I can’t allow myself to be caught up in dreams of a future with him.

Glancing at the clock, I see it’s time to go. Taking a moment, I smooth deep red lipstick over my lips. It’s a classic color that matches my complexion, but I don’t want to see blood on my lips. I grab a tissue and roughly wipe the color away. Instead I opt for a fleshy pink, which compliments my smoky eye makeup. I don’t want to be a vamp tonight. I want to be myself.

Riding in the elevator, I only briefly realize Derek still doesn’t know my room number or my last name. It’s incredible in view of all the things he does know about me. Tonight is the night we’ll remove every safety net. Throw caution to the wind.

The doors open, and as promised, he’s waiting for me in the lobby. My breath catches. He’s gorgeous in charcoal slacks, a thin black sweater, and a light blazer. His dark, wavy hair is smoothed back from his face, and when he turns, his sexy grin clenches my chest.

“You’re beautiful,” he says in that low voice.

“You’re amazing,” I say in response.

My former reticence is gone. I don’t feel the need to be guarded with him. Whether it’s because of my fatalistic outlook on life or how fast we’ve moved. Maybe it’s a testament to his ability to put me at ease. All I know is when we’re together, I’m not afraid or shy. Quite the opposite.

“Patrick said you were sick of him by the end of the afternoon.” A grin lifts the corners of his mouth.

Standing here, looking like a model, teasing me about the most devastating time of my life, I can’t resist. I clutch his forearm and rise on my toes to kiss his cheek.

“I guess we have to do another exchange.” I say the words in a pointed way, and it has the desired effect. His expression darkens.

“Dinner first. We have things to discuss.”

“Also, I’m hungry,” I wink. I’m so grateful to have one safe harbor in the middle of this storm.

He’s a hunter. If I’m safe anywhere, I’m safe with him. It’s the justification I give for the inexplicable way I feel when we’re together. I’m easy. I’m happy. He promised me last night he’d save me, and for whatever reason, my heart has decided to believe him. My body craves him, and when I take his arm, all my fear dissolves.

“Are you up for walking a few blocks to Bayona?”

“I’d love that!”

The upscale slow-food restaurant situated in a two hundred year-old French Quarter cottage is a luxury I’ve only had once. After my day of tense wandering through the market trying not to worry about him, it seems like the perfect setting to relax and get to know each other better.

The rain never came, and as we walk up Royal Street, I imagine us as a carefree couple strolling to dinner on a warm fall night. Only the tiniest flicker of anxiety manages to penetrate my mood. I look over my shoulder a few times, wondering if he might be there watching me. A touch of dread chills my insides at the thought of his cold blue eyes, but all I see are tourists looking in windows or running into bars.

His voice has been silent since this afternoon in the market. I don’t know if I somehow got closer to him or if Derek’s presence gives me the strength to block it out. Again, I’m handicapped by my ignorance of what’s happening to me and how fast the changes are taking place. Did my dose of shifter blood truly reset the clock or am I’m right back to where I was before I drank it?

“What are you thinking about so seriously?” Derek glances down, giving me that little smile that launches a thousand butterflies in my stomach.

My feelings for him haven’t distracted me from the fact I know so little about him, about his work. “Can you tell me what you did today?”

“Probably not. Let’s just say it was informative.”

We walk down the side streets, away from the main tourist lanes, and I feel closer to him, like we can share more intimately here.

“I worried about you today. I was afraid you might try to take matters into your own hands and be hurt.”

His smile tightens. “As much as I’d like to do that, my partners won’t let me. We’ll have it all planned out before we do anything.”

Taking a deep breath, I look up at the twilight sky. “I was thinking today how little we know about each other.”

“Me too,” he says.

We’re at the corner of Royal and Conti Streets. Two blocks north, and we’ll be at our destination. Before we resume our walk, however, he puts both hands on my waist, holding me steady in front of him.

“What would you like to know?” His steely eyes are utterly sincere, and I feel myself fall for him a little more.

“Everything?” A breathy laugh escapes with the word, and I’m embarrassed that I sound like a swoony teenager. “Where did you grow up?”

“Right here in this city.” He nods toward the streetlamps, taking my hand as we resume our walk. My heels make a soft clicking noise on the flagstones.

“Really? Here in the Quarter?”

“My parents have a place further west, by Audubon Park. Near Tulane and Loyola.”

“It sounds beautiful. Did you go to college there?”

“When I graduated high school, I joined the military. I’d just started my degree when the first Gulf war broke out. I was sent overseas.”

The image of him in uniform fighting bad guys is an incredible turn-on. “Did you serve for long?”

“I was back and forth,” he says as we approach the small cottage.

A line of white French doors punctuates the terracotta-orange façade of the one-story building. We pass through a green wrought-iron gate into an alley entrance, and a young woman dressed all in black finds our reservation.

“Right this way, Mr. Alexander.” She picks up two large menus and leads us through the small dining area filled with white-covered tables.

Recessed lighting casts the entire room in an amber glow, and large bouquets of red-orange lilies overflow from metal urns.

Derek touches my arm. “Would you like to sit outside?”

The small dining room feels too close for what we might discuss, so I nod. The young woman leads us into a brick-lined courtyard and seats us at a black iron table and chairs. Vibrant green palms fill the flowerbeds and ivy climbs the walls. Crepe myrtle trees stretch tall overhead and star-shaped lanterns hang from their smooth, thick trunks. A red amaryllis springs from a planter attached above a fountain, and the sound of water provides a soothing backdrop.

Once we’re seated, Derek orders two glasses of cava. I can’t help smiling, thinking of that very first night we met. It seems so long ago. The young woman leaves, and Derek stretches a hand across the table to me. I put mine in his, studying the contrast of my pale skin to his rich olive complexion.

“Hidden in this courtyard, I can almost forget the terrible things ahead of us.” I say, watching his fingers close around mine.

“I’m glad to hear it. At first I couldn’t accept what had happened to you. Now I only want to set you free.”

Our eyes meet, and I have to blink away the mist. “Why?” I have to know. It wouldn’t be me if I didn’t ask.

“Why?” He lets out a chuckle at my question.

“Yes,” I’m earnest. “Why of all the options in that bar that night. Why me?”

“Why you,” he repeats as if it’s an academic problem, but I can tell from the gleam in his eyes he’s ready to play. “I guess I love long dark curls and blue eyes.”

His mood makes me want to tease back, but the server appears with a dark green bottle and two flutes. The cork releases with a loud Pop! and she pours us each a glass of sparkling wine.

Before she leaves, we order from the End of Summer menu. Eggplant caviar and tapenade for me followed by wild Alaskan salmon with Gewurztraminer sauce. Derek chooses a smoked quail salad followed by peppered lamb loin with goat cheese and Zinfandel sauce. French Burgundy will accompany our meal and the waitress disappears, giving us a chance to resume our conversation.

We’re quiet a moment, and my mind drifts back to all the questions I want to ask him. He lifts his flute and holds it toward mine.

“To the little things,” he says.

Clinking my glass against his, I smile. “Especially when everything else is so overwhelming.”

He takes a quick sip before putting the glass down again and taking my hand. “Tonight it’s just us. Tomorrow, we’ll worry about finishing this business.”

The level of confidence in his voice is enough to convince me. Our salads arrive, and I pick up my fork to sample the salty caviar mixed with eggplant.

“Your turn,” he smiles. “Where did you grow up?”

“Near the beach in Wilmington.” Using the butter knife, I spread the dark brown tapenade on a slice of French bread. “Elaine and I grew up together playing in the water, building sand castles.”

“Has she always read minds?” He waits as I take a bite of the savory blend of olives and capers. Nodding, I clear it away. “She thought I was telling her things. I thought she was going crazy.”

That makes him smile as he spears a bit of quail with pears. “How did you figure out what was happening?”

“I finally faced her while she was answering a question, and she realized my lips weren’t moving.”

“Hmm,” he nods. “She did that to me earlier. It’s unnerving.”

“Yes,” I agree with a little laugh.

Remembering that day so long ago still makes me smile. We were two pre-teen girls running and playing in the sand. We hadn’t started caring about boys yet, and our days were spent exploring the dunes and climbing the rocks, watching the breakers hit them with such force the white surf shot in the air like a geyser.

“We spent the rest of that summer testing her abilities,” I continue. “We had no idea what was coming.”

Two servers appear with our dinner entrees and the wine. We wait as they take care of our needs, and when they leave, I’m feeling less nostalgic.

“As we got older, she hated her gift. She would ask if she could return it. Or re-gift it.”

He exhales a little laugh. “So no gifts for you?”

Shaking my head, I dive into the rich salmon. It’s perfectly cooked—slightly pink in the middle with a crispy, buttery crust. I let out a little moan it’s so good, and Derek sips his wine, watching me with an expression that flutters my core.

“I’m wondering why we ordered so much food.” His voice is low and sensual.

I lean forward, my nose wrinkling. “I’m wondering the same thing.”

“We can get this to go and have dinner in bed.”

Breathing a little quicker, I lower my fork. “Although I want to know more about you.”

“We’ve got all night to talk.”

Now that he says it, I realize I’m not feeling at all tired. Seems I’m back to nocturnal urges.

“Did you know there’s a pool on the roof of my hotel?”

“I’ve heard about it.” He signals to the waiter, who returns to fetch us boxes and the bill.

“You don’t have a swimsuit,” I pretend to pout, and he leans forward.

“I’ll buy trunks in the hotel gift shop. But I hope we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“I suppose we have to get back to find out.”

Derek

Our walk to the hotel seems to take forever and not long enough. The dress Melissa wears allows me to slide my hand down her gorgeous back, and I’m rewarded with a slight shiver as she melts into my side.

“Tell me about your work,” I say, pressing my lips to the delicate skin at her temple. “When did you start your own business?”

Her arms are around my waist, and I’m torn between wanting to hurry us back to the room and wanting to prolong our journey. I love having her near me. I love leaning down and inhaling deeply of ocean roses. I love the sound of her voice. It helps me forget about the demons I hunt or the one who’s trying to destroy her life. The one who’s out there now, waiting for us to find him.

“When I finished college, I started my marketing business.” She’s thoughtful and serious about her work, and I can tell she’s good at her job. “At first, it was local, mostly college-based, working with professors and community programs. Then it expanded. I met different people…”

Her voice trails off, and I’m pretty sure I know why. “Is that how you met him?”

Her dark head nods against my shoulder, and my arm tightens around her.

“He was a big client, a big fish.” Her voice is soft, sad again. “The irony is I thought it would advance my career. I’m pretty sure he ended it.”

Again I’m hit with a surge of protective anger. I imagine her beautiful and happy, starting a business and hoping for the best. Doing her homework and trying to land the best clients—only to have it all cut short by a depraved monster.

“You’ll have all the things you wanted.” It’s a promise I’m determined to keep.

We’re back at the hotel, and I motion for her to wait as I quickly step into the gift shop and purchase a basic pair of navy swim trunks. I’m headed for the register when my eyes fall on a display of gold jewelry.

Pins in the shape of hummingbirds with mother of pearl inlays are arranged next to large watches. A wide, golden cuff sits next to a large pair of hoop earrings. It’s flashy, but my eye is caught by one small necklace. In a pale pink box, a thin gold chain holds a delicate floating heart. Without hesitation, I pick it up.

She’s looking through the glass windows at the elaborate carousel bar when I return. A round bar is painted in shining gold, the top arched and lit up with carnival lights exactly like a carousel. Faces are carved in panels at the top, and staring at it, it truly looks as if it should spin.

The bar stools are brightly colored with lions or horses or elephants painted on the seat backs. It’s quite a spectacle. When I reach her, I can’t resist sliding my palm down her lovely back once more. I imagine sitting in a chair and drawing her onto my lap, taking her under those bright lights.

“I love this dress,” I say softly.

Her shoulder rises as she looks up at me. A sexy grin is on her lips. “I hoped you would.”

“I can’t seem to stop touching you.”

Another shiver runs through her and her voice is thick when she speaks. “We left our food at the restaurant.”

I realize she’s right and almost laugh. We packed it all up, and we were so distracted by each other, we walked right out and left it on the table.

“You’re right.” I say. “I only got a few bites.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Not for food.” Her cheeks flush, and I glance at the glowing display of the bar. “Do you want a drink?”

“I’d rather go to the roof.”

Her tone tells me she shares my hunger. Taking her hand, I lead her to the elevator. “We can change in one of the cabanas.”

“Or not,” she whispers, and damn if I don’t have to adjust my fly.

The elevator ride only increases the tension. We share the trip up with individuals getting on and off, but once we’re at the roof, a quick glance around the shimmering blue pool tells us we’re alone.

I lead her into one of the white-curtained cabanas and quickly lower the straps of her dress. She’s not wearing a bra, and her dark nipples are peaked and straining for my touch. I don’t make her wait.

“Oh!” she gasps as I cup one roughly before leaning down to pull a taut bud into my mouth. I give it a quick pull and a gentle bite. I want to devour them both.

She gasps and a little noise comes from her throat. It taunts my impatience. Her dress is off in a sweep, and I lift her onto the bed, pushing her thighs apart so I can taste her. She slides back, moaning and clutching her breasts as I grip her hips in my arms, sliding my tongue up, down, deep into her clenching pussy.

A brief suck, a little dip, and her cries make it harder for me to wait. Standing, I discard my coat and lose my sweater. Reaching up, I draw the beige curtains around us. It’s a visual buffer, but if someone wanders up here, it will be impossible to hide what we’re doing.

My slacks are gone, and I kneel on the bed, wrapping Melissa’s legs around my waist. Her beautiful body glows silvery-white in the moonlight, and it only takes a moment to get myself in position and thrust deep into her slippery core.

“God,” I say through clenched teeth. The sensation of being inside her warm, wet body is almost too much. “So tight,” I groan.

Her back arches as I thrust deeper. One hand fumbles between her legs, and I watch as her slim fingers circle frantically over her clit. Her mouth begins to change. The sight of her teeth growing, knowing it’s because she’s about to come burns my desire hotter in my stomach.

I thrust harder, gripping the soft flesh of her ass and grinding her against my pelvis. She exhales little cries, and her small breasts bounce as I sit back on my heels moving faster. Her hand flies over that sensitive place, and she starts to clench around my dick, pulling and milking me.

“Oh, yeah,” I groan low, rising up on my knees so I can push deeper into her.

My eyes squeeze shut, and her hips begin to jerk. I know she’s coming, and I grip her tighter, moving with her orgasm. Our skin slaps loudly until she breaks into a full-body shudder.

“Oh, god! Derek!” she cries, and it sends me over the edge.

My ass tightens as the world tilts, and a low groan scrapes through my lungs. I’m shooting through space, and my only anchor is this beautiful woman calling my name.

For a moment, I hold on, eyes closed, pulsing with pleasure. Then I notice she’s moving—slowly climbing my torso with me still inside. Her breath comes in little pants, and she presses her open mouth against my flesh, touching my skin with her tongue, licking the sweat from my muscles in the heat of the New Orleans night.

I feel the scratch of her razor teeth on my chest, and my stomach muscles quiver. I know what’s coming. I’ve felt this experience twice, and it’s like riding lightning.

“You taste so good,” she whispers, flickering her tongue over my collarbone catlike. My dick surges to life.

“Yes,” I groan. I want this. I want it bad. I don’t care how twisted that makes me.

“I want to taste all of you. I want to drink you.” Her voice is animalistic, and I’m full-on rock-hard inside her.

Tilting my head to the side, I don’t have to give her permission. I only notice the slightest pinch as her teeth enter me. Pain disappears as pleasure explodes through my pelvis.

“Fuck!” My blood races into her mouth, and I immediately come again.

Her bite is in the same place as before, at my hairline, and her hot breath whispers across the skin of my neck. It’s fucking erogenous as shit, and I’m pulsing, filling her. I shudder, overwhelmed by a full-body orgasm.

If I thought I was in space before, I’m fucking two galaxies over now. She’s drinking more—more than the first time, more than the last time, and I’m paralyzed by the sensation.

Only one of us can stop this, and it isn’t me. I’m gripping her ass, my head against her shoulder, my dick throbbing in her core. She can have all of me at this point. She can kill me if she wants, and I’ll die the most blissed-out junkie on the planet.

Finally, a deep noise of frustration moves through her, and she manages to pull out. Her teeth withdraw from my skin, and emptiness passes through my stomach at the loss. Nothing compares to that exchange. I don’t know if it’s like that with every vampire bite or if it’s something special we share, but it’s a high more powerful than any narcotic.

We’re facing each other, and she’s breathing hard, shuddering and squeezing my arms. I’m holding her hips, flexing and relaxing my fingers against the soft skin of her ass.

“Oh, Derek,” she pants. “Oh my god.”

My thoughts exactly. I have no idea where to even begin to recover from that. “It’s more intense every time.”

“We’ve got to stop.” Her voice trembles as she shakes her head. “I almost couldn’t stop.”

Her cheeks are the most gorgeous rosy shade. Her eyes gleam like they have actual light inside them. I’m entranced by her beauty, and I seem to have lost track of where I am. For a few moments, I can only stare at her, stunned by her.

“Are you okay?” She whispers, and I realize she’s afraid. “Did I hurt you?”

“Shit,” I mutter, shaking my head and trying to find my equilibrium. “I’ve never been susceptible to vampire glamour.”

“I wasn’t using glamour on you.” She watches me nervously.

I pull her naked body against my chest and hold her close. Her head is at my throat and her slim arms go around my waist, clinging to me as if I’m an anchor in raging waters. She has no idea how mutual the feeling is.

We hold each other until our breathing settles, and I feel like I can stand. “Let’s go back to the room,” I say. All thoughts of swimming are gone. Honestly, I’m afraid I might drown. “I need to rest.”

“Of course,” she says, standing quickly.

Swim trunks on, I pull the thin sweater over my head. I pick up my jacket, and the small box drops to the pavement. I lean down to retrieve it as she slides her silky dress over her head.

Reaching for her arm, I pull her to me. “I got this for you.” She stills, and the atmosphere feels even more intimate than before. “It’s another thing I would give you, but I’m too late again.”

A little frown, she lifts the lid and gasps. “Oh! I love it!”

I watch her lift the delicate chain with the small heart floating on it, and I take it from her hands. I motion for her to turn around and fasten it at her neck, sealed with a small kiss.

“Why are you too late?” She turns to face me, her sapphire eyes shimmering with emotion.

I only hesitate a moment. “You’ve already stolen my heart as well.”

Her chin drops and she shakes her head. I pull her to me so I can kiss her head. She’s so beautiful. She can steal everything, and I’m not sure I’d mind as long as she’s in my arms.

Clasping our hands, fingers entwined, I lead her to the elevator. “How do you feel?” I have to know.

She holds out her other hand, fingers spread, and studies it as if it’s not a part of her body. “I feel sort-of magical. Like I could run a marathon.”

Nodding, I pull her to the elevator, into my arms. “I don’t feel like running a marathon,” I say, and she starts to laugh. Blinking at her, a smile breaks across my face as well. “I need to hold you in my arms and rest.”