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She smiled and huffed a sigh. “I loved being married. I was looking forward to being married again.”
He nodded and ran his finger down her cheek and over her lips. “To Eric.”
“Yes.”
“Did you love him, Havily, really love him?”
She smiled but her eyes tightened. “I did. I fell hard for him. I hadn’t expected love to find me again.”
“Did he take your blood as I have?”
She looked at him, her hands now stroking his shoulders, her thumbs lower as she rubbed his pecs back and forth. “You’re not going to get jealous, are you?”
He shook his head. “Just wondering.”
She huffed a sigh. “Well, I was nervous at first, either direction, but yes, we exchanged blood. He was my first, my only, until now. It was … extraordinary. What about you?”
“Yes, I mean no. I mean, I’ve taken blood in the last couple of centuries but I’ve not had a woman at my neck since I left Second Earth.” He stroked her hair and kissed her cheek, her chin, then lower to press his lips against her throat. “I loved it. I truly had forgotten how wonderful it could be.”
He felt dizzy suddenly, as though he stood on top of a tall building, peering over the edge. He let himself drift forward and he fell. Yes, he was falling, that was the sensation he felt, falling and falling but there was no ground to hit, just an infinite abyss full of pleasure, ease, comfort.
What did it mean that being connected to Havily made him feel like this?
He spun the mystery in my head
My heart cried out
My soul rejoiced
Tendrils of euphoria
Removed every hesitation
—Collected Poems, Beatrice of Fourth
Chapter 13
Fabulous, hot, steaming water broke over Havily’s shoulders, and she let out a soft moan. Bathing on Vancouver Island in 1910 meant building a fire and heating water on top of a coal-burning stove. The good old days had nothing on water heaters and indoor plumbing. Hallelujah for a hot shower.
She breathed and breathed, the moisture of the shower a relief from the dry desert air. As she lathered, her head wagged back and forth.
With every molecule of space Marcus took up in her life, with every millisecond she was with him, the bond was growing. She could feel all those tendrils weaving through her body and tightening his hold on her, and he wasn’t even doing it on purpose.
Earlier, she had tried to tell him that she didn’t want to be near him and then she had stroked his wing-locks. What an idiot. But it was clear that even though her mind might be able to make sense of things and shoot off warnings every now and then, her body was completely in control.
Memories jostled her as she rinsed off.
She had taken his blood. She had taken his blood. Her knees buckled in the shower and she only just caught herself from falling.
His blood, oh-my-God, his blood had been incredible. She could feel it now singing through her veins. The power, the sheer power of taking blood felt as though light and heat vibrated within each muscle of her body, warming her, opening her heart, even her mind.
And the sex? Once more her knees weakened, threatening to send her down to the tile. Even if she could make a rational decision to stay away from him, just how was she supposed to do that when right now, if he busted through the door, she’d just open her arms wide and take him inside?
* * *
Parisa had awakened to the sounds of sex, beautiful throaty sex in the room opposite. She was both embarrassed and aroused. The shower had been running off and on for some time, so she supposed the latest round was over.
She sighed heavily as she sat up and slipped her legs over the side of the bed. She adjusted the black silk since it had gotten caught between her legs. Her body was heated, her mind distressed.
What was this place she had come to?
Second Earth. A new dimension. A place where wings were normal, which meant she was normal.
Lace curtains covered the window. A thick lawn spread out to a considerable distance. If she understood where the villa was located, she was looking at the eastern slopes of the White Tank Mountains. Same earth. Different dimensions. Even the place-names were kept the same to avoid confusion.
Her brows rose as she crossed to the window. She pushed back the curtain and found a deer on the lawn, long neck extended, munching happily. On earth—Mortal Earth—she knew that deer lived in the White Tanks. Therefore, that would also be true here on Second Earth.
But how out of place the animal looked on a manicured lawn. And what a lawn! Very few homes in Phoenix had lawns like this anymore, water being the scarce commodity it was, despite the underground rivers. Maybe resources were apportioned differently on Second Earth.
The doe lifted her head, her ears swiveling. Something had disturbed her and she bounded away, in the direction of the mountains.
Parisa felt like that, ready to run. She was torn about her experience so far. In one sense, she knew she belonged here, despite evidence of a serious war. But another part of her, so used to earth, longed to go home, to live in the comfort and safety of her known life. She wondered how soon she could go back to her house, when it would be safe for her.
She sighed. What was she even doing here?
In strong contrast with her deliberations and confusion, her stomach rumbled. She put her hand to it and smiled. “Well, at least you always know what you want.”
* * *
After the night’s fighting and a brief conversation with Thorne at the Cave, Medichi folded directly to his personal suite of rooms at the southernmost end of his villa. Thorne had informed him that he had guests—Marcus, Havily, and the mortal-with-wings, a woman by the name of Parisa Lovejoy. He thought he’d get cleaned up in case the women were around. They really didn’t need to see him covered in a night’s worth of blood spatter.
He had delivered Leto’s message to an incredulous Thorne. Trouble at the Ambassadors Festival in three days. Actually, two now. So, shit.
What he didn’t understand was what Leto meant by giving them a warning. Could he be trusted? Who the hell knew? He would leave it to Endelle and Thorne to figure this one out.
The only thing he really did understand about Leto’s warning was that he had to keep a lid on it, as in a deep mental shield so that anytime a powerful entity—like that prick-of-all-pricks, Greaves—decided to do a mind-dive without Medichi’s knowledge, he wouldn’t find out the truth, at least not from him. If for some reason Leto was having second thoughts about his defection, or if his conscience had returned, Endelle’s administration could use all the help it could get.
