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I wasn’t sure I believed that. “What can the curse actually do if you don’t listen to your book?”
Eric squeezed my leg. “The last time I disobeyed, someone died.”
Stab to the heart. “I’m sorry, Eric. That was a callous question.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re scared. And that’s understandable. I’m scared too.”
“You are?”
His hand made its way up to my neck, where he massaged my tense muscles. If only I could close my eyes and enjoy his touch. As I was driving, it didn’t seem prudent.
“Sorrel, I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you.”
“You mean die for me?” I could barely say it. I had seen the thermos he’d taken out of the SUV he’d “borrowed” before we abandoned it in a parking lot with no security cameras. I knew what the thermos was for. It was for the wolfsbane sealed in a baggie that he kept in his pocket.
He didn’t respond to my question; instead he changed the subject. “Maybe we should play a game.”
I glanced over at him with my brow quirked. “Are you serious?”
He flashed me his devastatingly smoldering smile. “Isn’t that what people do on road trips?”
“Yeah, but this isn’t a vacation. We’re possibly going to—”
He pressed his finger to my lips. “Let’s not talk about it. I want to enjoy whatever time we have left. Whether we have three days or three hundred years together, I’m going to treasure each day with you.”
I wiped a few tears off my cheek. “You know, you should really be a writer.”
He chuckled. “I meant every word. So, what game should we play?”
I thought for a second. “Well, my family and I didn’t take a lot of road trips, but when we did, my dad always told me stories about queens throughout history. Like Isabella, queen of Castile and Aragon, and Matilda of Scotland. Hmm.”
“What?”
I looked out into the vast landscape filled with long stretches of highway and lots of green vegetation. “I see everything my father ever told me or did through a different lens now. I thought for sure when he told me when I was little that I would be a queen, he meant it metaphorically. That I was the queen of his heart or something. Now that I think about it, when he taught me about queens throughout history, he tried to drive home the good qualities a queen should possess. Like how Matilda was compassionate and known for her charity. Or how Isabella insisted that Native Americans be treated humanely. He said the best rulers always thought of others before themselves. They put people above power. You don’t think he meant I would be a queen, do you? I mean, who would I rule over?” What a silly notion. I wasn’t remotely interested in being royalty.
Eric pressed his lips together in thought. “Did you know our people, the Praeditus, had royal ruling families?”
I nodded. “But they all died out.”
Eric shrugged. “So far as we know, but you’re living proof we don’t know everything. The Aelius family somehow managed to survive.”
“Or maybe my father just found their book and kept it hidden.” Even I realized how ridiculous that sounded. I loved my father, but I felt like I had been lied to my entire life about who I was. It made me wonder if my mother knew about the other book too—apparently my book. If she did, how could she keep that from me? And how did my dad know who Eric was and where the book was hidden? Or was the father in my dreams not my real father? It all made my head and heart hurt.
Eric gave me a look like, You poor naive thing. I got that look a lot. “Like I said, let’s not worry about it until we have to. What game should we play?”
I thought for a moment. It was hard to think of playing a game when life felt anything but fun. I had lost so much and knew I might lose everything. Eric’s smile begged me to enjoy what time we had left together, and I gave in. “How about Never Have I Ever. And to make it more fun, we kiss each other if we’ve done what the other person says.”
“I have no idea what game you’re talking about, but if it involves kissing you, I’m in.”
I was in too. In over my head.
~*~
Eric
Eric lay wide awake in the dark, holding a sleeping Sorrel against him. He listened to the hum of the other RV generators around them in the campground outside of Jackson, Mississippi. He’d thought Atlanta was humid, but it had nothing on this place. The air conditioner barely kept it on the low end of cool. Sorrel’s warm body only added to the uncomfortable heat, yet he refused to let go of her. Even if her cat was giving him the evil eye from the end of the small RV bed. Apparently, Eric had stolen Tara’s spot. It didn’t help that he was wearing pajamas. He normally slept in his underwear, but the more clothing between him and Sorrel, the better. The touch of her skin did something to him he’d never experienced with any other woman. It was more than the overwhelming desire he felt for her; it was as if every part of him called for her. Besides, he liked wearing the pajamas she had purchased for him. She’d seemed so proud when she was picking them out while he watched over her from the shadows. He’d loved watching her deliberate between the black and blue ones. She had even talked out loud, asking herself which would bring out his eyes better. She’d done that with each article of clothing she bought, until she came out of the department store with two bursting-to-full bags. All for him.
