Oh, good God. Was that for the blade or for me?
A silence filled the room, both of us now acutely aware of our close proximity. We always worked hard to keep a certain distance, but sometimes it felt like we’d been tricked. Like some cosmic set-up had toyed with us and then, there we were.
Same upending feelings.
Same uncontrollable desire.
Same heart-wrenching longing.
Same ruinous consequences.
I waited for Lincoln to step away.
My eyes rolled back as I breathed him in again. I could feel his power swirling, and vaguely wondered why it wasn’t pummelling into me yet.
His arm slipped away from the dagger and I braced for the inevitable separation.
But instead, his arm grazed my side slowly and his hand came to rest on my hip. I froze.
He’ll move away any moment.
When I heard him take a deep breath, the sound vibrated through my body and my head swayed back. His other hand braced my shoulder and a thrill ran down my spine, my body warming as his fingers moved into my hair, pushing it aside so that I could feel his warm breath on my exposed neck.
Heaven.
Hell.
My heart raced. He was warmth and sun and everything that felt right in my world. I wanted it so much, like I’d never wanted anything in my life before. Everything. His touch, his lips, his heart, his … soul. God help me, I wanted it all.
Mine.
I let my shoulders roll back, tilting my head, inviting him.
His lips grazed my shoulders, travelling towards the curve of my neck, his other hand moving up my arm slowly, thoughtfully.
I locked my knees tight and closed my eyes, feeling the thrill of his lips on my skin and the heat from every deep breath.
He kissed me just below my ear and I thought I might faint from the feeling that the world was suddenly igniting around me.
He stepped in, pressing closer to me. I wanted so desperately to fall into him, or better, to turn to face him and give him my lips in return.
But he’d saved me so many times. He’d always been the one to keep us in check.
His lips grazed my ear and I knew whatever small, miraculous hold I had over rational thought would soon fade completely.
I hated myself as I did it, but I drew down into my power and brought it out, gaining strength and distance and bathing Lincoln in its effects – what he’d told me was like vanilla cream.
My soul protested as if trying to get free of its unworthy host, but I pushed on, building the walls, wanting to scream as I rebuilt the barrier between Lincoln and me, locking out the sun.
I felt his lips – still on my neck – tremble. His hand, on my arm, gripped tight. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was trying to gain strength or just hold on. I gave him his time, as he had for me – staying where I was, trying not to make things worse.
When both hands had dropped from me and he had taken a step back, I wanted to tell him it was okay, that – of all people – I understood. But before I could get the first word out he was gone.
When I came upstairs from the basement Lincoln was stuffing things into a backpack. He didn’t even look at me.
‘We need to keep up regular patrols. I’m going to walk the perimeter and then I’ll keep watch for a couple of hours while you sleep. You can take over when you wake up.’
‘Linc, please. Are you mad at me?’
He closed his pack and looked up at me briefly as he shook his head, a sour expression on his face. ‘I’m not mad at you. I’m furious with me. I just … I don’t know what we’re doing sometimes.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘It was selfish.’ He shook his head again. ‘Get some rest.’ With that, he stalked out of the room and I let him, even though I wanted to wring his neck.
Does he think I’m the only one who is allowed to have trouble dealing with this stuff?
It was times like this that I really missed having Steph around. I grabbed the phone Griffin had given us and ignored the warning that we should only use it in emergencies. This was an emergency: I needed my best friend. I dialled Steph’s number and sighed.
Message bank.
I eyed off the leather couch and considered sinking into it but grabbed my pack instead and went upstairs. I ferreted out a stash of musty-smelling towels that were going to have to make do and chose the room I thought was Evelyn’s. It would have been nice to see more evidence of her around the place, knick-knacks or photos, or journals even – but the cabin, while charming, was personality sparse.
The biggest shock was when I turned on the shower and actually felt hot water. I didn’t deliberate too long, jumping in to wash before it ran out.