Then her eyes locked onto Gabe. “You will protect her?” Her eyes narrowed, and Gabe stood unwavering under the force of her gaze. “There is a darkness within you, but there is strength, and there is goodness too. So you will protect her.”
“Mom.” I tried to keep my voice light and playful. “I don’t need any protection.”
“I won’t let anything bad happen to Mara as long as I’m around,” he told my mom firmly, ignoring my embarrassed protests.
“That’s all I can ask.” Mom seemed to relax then and finally let go of my arms. She touched my face gently and gave me a pained smile before telling me to be good, and then she rushed away, her shawl flowing behind her like a cape.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said softly, watching my mother retreat into the sanctuary of Gideon’s trailer, where he could soothe her pain and quiet the demons that tormented her. “She’s a good mom, and she means well. She just has … spells.”
That was the easiest way I could think to describe the episodes my mom experienced when the spirits had become too much for her and drained all her energy. And telling Gabe all about how my mom was a necromancer that conversed with the dead would break the illusion of normalcy I was fighting for.
“She loves you a lot,” Gabe commented, but his voice sounded detached, and I looked up at his face and I could see that my mom had rattled him. Under the waning moon, his eyes were dark, and he took an uneasy breath.
“She does,” I agreed, then decided to change the subject by motioning to the trailer behind me. “I have the place all to myself if you want to come in for a while.”
With some effort, Gabe shook his head and cast off his distress, so when he looked down at me, his easy smile returned. “I did promise your mom that I would keep you safe, so as your official bodyguard, it is my duty to stay by your side all night long.”
I laughed, but I took his hand again and led him inside my home.
42. the lovers
“Have you always lived in this trailer?” Gabe asked.
“No, we’ve had this Winnebago for five years.” I had my back to him as I adjusted the radio until I landed on Tears for Fears singing about being head over heels, and I turned back to face him.
He leaned back against the cracked counter with his arms out beside him, causing his white T-shirt to pull taut against his chest and biceps. He was looking around, appraising my home without any of the judgment or contempt I’d been afraid of.
Instead, there was this odd fascination playing in the burnt honey of his eyes. His hair had wilted from being under the top hat, so a few dark golden strands fell across his forehead, and I couldn’t think of a time when I’d ever seen anyone sexier.
“Why do you look so amazed?” I asked, slowly walking over to him as music wafted out through the speakers around us.
He shrugged and offered me a sheepish smile. “I don’t know. I’m just taking it all in.”
“I know it’s rundown, but I didn’t think it was that amazing,” I teased, and for once, I was just joking—not trying to cover up my insecurities.
With Gabe, I was beginning to realize that I didn’t need to feel ashamed or embarrassed. Everything he saw about me, everything he learned, he just accepted. He never judged or shamed me. He just held his arms and heart open for me.
“No, no, it’s not that,” Gabe hurried to explain. “It’s just … this is where you live. Where you fill your time and keep all your secrets. I just wanna take it all in, I guess.”
“You’re wondering how I fill my time?” I asked, stopping so I was mere inches from him. “Read books. Listen to music. Play cards. Kiss boys.”
“Kiss boys?” Gabe asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Sometimes,” I admitted with a sly smile.
“Like now?” He leaned down and kissed me softly, his lips barely brushing against mine. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him and kissing me in that subdued way that only made me want him more.
I pressed my body against his, and he pulled back. I stared up expectantly at him, at the smile playing on his lips and the devilish glint in his eyes that I was falling for.
“You know what room I’ve really been dying to see?” he asked huskily. “Your bedroom.”
“I have seen yours a few times, so it does only seem fair,” I replied with a smile.
I took his hand, leading him back through the beaded curtain to my small room at the back of the Winnebago. For his part, Gabe did attempt to check it out—looking at all the books and scarves and jewelry and posters that covered the space.
But then I grabbed his hand, meaning to pull him to me, but the icy dagger twisted inside my chest, sending a freezing pain shooting through me.
“Mara?” Gabe asked, but before he could say more, I pulled him to me. I wouldn’t let the cold stop me—not this time. I wanted to be with him, and I wouldn’t let anything get in my way.