“Here is fine.” Amaia stepped over the threshold and nodded to Liam who sat at the table reading what appeared to be a book of poetry. Liam acknowledged the greeting then immersed himself in his book again.
“How was your evening?” Meg sat in a wing chair by the fireplace. The roaring fire was unnecessary. In fact, Amaia would have preferred the cold, but they needed to keep up appearances. The townsfolk would think something was amiss if no smoke rose from the chimney on such a cold night.
Amaia joined her in one of the straight-backed chairs from the table. “Interesting.”
“Playing matchmaker?”
She should have been excited to share the new development with her powers, but that wasn’t the reason she had come. “Yes. I don’t understand how love can be so powerful if I can manipulate two people into feeling it. The way humans talk, you’d think being in love was a magical experience. If only I had understood it better when I was mortal.”
“We could spend the rest of eternity listing the things we wished we had known when we were mortal.” Meg’s light laughter lit the cottage more than the fire ever could.
“I suppose so.”
“What’s bothering you?”
“Just something Lawrence said to me tonight.”
“What?”
Amaia didn’t know how to explain. Meg watched her, open and inviting, but Amaia couldn’t determine how best to broach the subject.
Meg leaned forward in her seat. “Does it have anything to do with the killing spree you’ve been on?”
Amaia’s eyes focused on Meg. Apparently, she had been a fool to think she was hiding her habit. “How did you know?”
Liam spoke from behind Amaia. “It wasn’t a grand mystery, Amaia. You’ve been running high on kills for a while. The only mystery is when you’ll stop.”
“No, I think you have stopped, and that’s why you’re here.” Meg sat back in her chair. “I’m not sure, but it seems like it’s about time for Michael to die again. He did, didn’t he?”
Amaia chuckled. “Am I really so transparent? Yes, he died earlier today.”
“Good. Do you think you have it out of your system now?”
“Yes.” Amaia nodded. “It was a distraction. A bad one. I should have focused on other things.”
“I should think so. A vampire on a killing high is aiming to lose her head.”
“I wouldn’t let it get that far. You only noticed because you know me so well.”
“You can’t let this happen again, Amaia. How much does Lawrence know?”
“I have no idea, and I don’t want to ask. I’m certain he knows I’ve been killing, but I don’t know if he’s aware of Michael.”
“What’s he going to do?”
“Nothing, at least for the time being. I think he trusts me to stop now that he’s brought it to my attention.”
“Then you have to stop. Are you going to be able to hold yourself together once he’s born again?”
“I don’t know, Meg. That’s why I’m here. I think I need to see him next time.”
“Well, it can’t turn out worse than this time.”
A rueful grin overcame Amaia. “No, it can’t.”
“You need a plan. You can’t leave it to chance.”
“I think just knowing that I can look forward to seeing him will prevent me from losing control. I’ll focus my time on my work with Lawrence. He wants to see me improve quicker, and I admit that I’m interested to see how far I can take my power over auras.”
“Good. To be honest, I don’t think Lawrence much cares what you do as long as you put your work first.”
“I agree. I’ll keep my visits to Michael discreet. When he’s only got a year left, I’ll approach him. That way, if it’s a problem, at least it won’t last long. I’ll keep the conversation strictly on our time together as mortals and on his lives. If he wants to see me, he’ll have to agree to my terms.”
Meg nodded. “You must promise you’ll come to me at the first hint of trouble.”
“Of course.”
“I want to hear you say it, Amaia.”
Amaia resisted the urge to flippantly repeat the words. She needed Meg. Promising to come to her was in Amaia’s best interests. “I promise I’ll come to you at the first hint of trouble.”
“You must do everything you can to keep Lawrence from suspecting that you’re seeing Michael.”
“I know. I’ll be careful. I’ll only visit when I know Lawrence won’t notice.”
Meg reached over and clasped her hand. “Now that you’ve brought me in on your plans, I can help with that.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you really going to be able to lie to your maker?”
“Haven’t I been doing that already?”
“Yes, but this is much bigger. It’ll be harder.”
“I know.” Amaia didn’t relish the thought of deceiving Lawrence about something so significant, but she didn’t have any other choice. She couldn’t choose between him and Michael. It scared her to think which choice she would make if forced to decide.
Chapter 28
Algar, March 1747, 24 years, 2 months later