Page 103 of Grim Tidings

I can feel the rudimentary protection she’s cobbled around herself, the resistance where I can’t push through.

Sweat beads on her forehead and her eyes pinch closed. “I’m trying,” she whispers.

“I know you are, sweetheart.”

She’s a locked fortress, so tangled up in her head and her heart that she can’t see straight. I thread my fingers through her hair and tug her close. She needs a distraction. She needs a way to let me in.

“Kiss me,” I say against the curve of her cheek. I meant it like an order, but it comes out like a plea. “Darcy. Kiss me.”

Her nose brushes mine. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. You can’t. C’mon. Let me see you. I’m not afraid.”

Another rough sob splinters its way from her chest to mine, and she cups my cheeks with her palms, tilting her mouth to mine. She tastes like salt and sorrow as she kisses me as gently as she can manage, her body rigid against mine. But I don’t want her to be careful, and I don’t want her to be afraid, so I urge her closer with my arm around her back, touching as much of her as I can. Anchoring her to me.

I want you safe, I try to tell her with my mouth against hers.

I want you here.

Stay with me.

Come back.

She gives in to me with a rough sound, collapsing over my lap. One hand cups my chin to hold me where she wants me and the other drifts over my shoulder, scratching through my hair.

I let her kiss me the way she needs, panting, biting, ferocious kisses that seem to soothe the storm raging inside of her. I sit there beneath her and take it. All the anguish and heartbreak and years of loneliness. My magic thrums, the glow growing stronger.

“Gabriel,” she whispers.

“Mmhmm.” I palm the nape of her neck, holding her steady. “That’s right. I’m here.”

Her shoulders relax from her ears. Her hand releases my face.

And the shadows retreat beneath the door.

“It’s just us here.” I drop a kiss to the corner of her mouth, her full bottom lip, the curve of her cheekbone. “It’s just me and you. I’m going to keep you safe. Let me in.”

She rattles out a breath and nods, guiding my mouth back to hers. It’s different, this kiss. Tentative. I feel it when her magic gives. It starts slow. A splintering crack in the foundation.

And then it’s not slow at all.

I always thought death magic would feel like an old wool blanket. Heavy and cumbersome and dark. But as Darcy’s magic pours out of her and into me, I realize it doesn’t feel like that at all. It’s—

Different. Dizzying. Heavy, yes, but intricate, too. Not dark, but a thousand different shades of blues and blacks and purples that coil and blend together. Peel back one layer and find fifteen more, everything working together in perfect synchronicity. Not shadows, but tiny whirls of tightly coiled color. Beautiful. Intoxicating. The first sip of good, strong liquor. It sinks through my bloodstream and settles heavy in my bones, vibrating with new, unknown power.

I turn away from her mouth and suck in a sharp breath.

Her fingers trace gentle circles over the back of my neck and then drift down, dancing over the top of my wings, trying to settle me. I shudder beneath her touch and roll my head back, staring at the ceiling as power surges between us.

She’s right. This is too much for one being to contain. The magic inside of her is wild. Electric. It sings through me with a siren’s song, and I struggle to catch up.

It’s overwhelming.

It’s good.

“Is this—” I wet my lips. Christ. “Is this how it always feels?”

She shakes her head, still draped across my lap. “No,” she answers, her eyes pitch black. The faintest hint of amber glows in the middle of them. “Not like this. I think—” Her mouth brushes against my skin with a low, satisfied hum. “I think this is—I think this is both of us.”