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He leaned over the island, settling his forearms on the beautiful striated polished stone. He wore black and his tumbler held amber whisky. The part of her that was an artist thought it would make a beautiful photograph. All very Devyn.
He released a heavy sigh but he didn’t look at her. “I caught him cheating on you. He was coming out of a hotel, he pushed this woman up against the wall then shoved his tongue down her throat. I hated him for it. I still do.”
The images were visceral, yet not surprising. She’d had her suspicions for months, from the time Kyle had given her an engagement ring. Even then, even that night, which should have been the happiest of her life, she knew something wasn’t working in her relationship with him.
“I took him apart, Em. I shouted so many obscenities, there on the street, the owner of the hotel called the local police on us. Kyle promised to do better, to do right by you. But I was so angry. I refused to go on patrol with him.
“He called me three times around midnight. But I wouldn’t pick up. And I didn’t listen to the messages until several nights later, long after I’d identified him in the morgue. He’d called me for back-up. He was in trouble. Shit, five wraith-pairs and only four Guardsmen. Not one of them a mastyr.
“I learned he’d been a hero that night, just as you did. The three other squad members survived because Kyle had fought like a maniac and had sacrificed himself at a critical moment.”
Emily had heard some of this at the memorial service during Kyle’s pyre ceremony. The Guardsmen had built it tall, one of the tallest she’d seen, a tribute to his sacrifice.
She could have easily told Devyn he was blaming himself unrealistically. How could he have known Kyle and his squad would end up in a battle beyond their ability?
She also knew Devyn. If there’d been a situation designed to leave him broken the rest of his life, this was it. They were twins. Devyn was the responsible one and he’d failed his brother. She now understood the depth of his guilt. He might never be able to forgive himself even though no one blamed him, not even his parents.
She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for telling me.” She accessed her time-pathing frequency.
He must have felt the soft vibrations because he rose up straighter. “Wait, I said I would take you home.”
“You know by
now it’s not difficult for me to move around and I don’t need an escort. I’ll see you later.” The last part was a lie. She suspected she wouldn’t be seeing Devyn for a long time, and then probably only by accident.
She slipped into the time-path, though she didn’t leave his house right away. Instead, she watched him through the blur of the continuum and just looked at him.
She loved him. She always would. But she’d lost him to his grief and to his guilt the night Kyle died. Her presence would only serve as a reminder that he’d failed his brother.
She didn’t know what else she could do to encourage his heart toward her. But right now, she had her own serious problem to resolve. She was a blood rose and she would need to take a mastyr vampire as a mate sooner than later.
The blogs had spelled it out for her, how quickly she’d be pursued by every mastyr in Tannisford as well as the rest of the realms once it became known what she was. She suspected she didn’t even have weeks before her situation turned critical.
Devyn’s issues might take years to resolve.
She turned physically within the time-path and pictured her home in Millerell, her shrine to earth-based, French influences.
A moment later, she stepped into the sitting room overlooking her small backyard. The room was her sanctuary. She’d done it up in soft pastels of pink and green, lots of florals, a few antiques. Despite how much she loved her home, even her favorite room didn’t bring the peace she sought.
She wondered how on earth she was going to live even the next few nights as an unbonded blood rose. Then she wondered how she would ever live with a moment’s contentment without Devyn.
That was when she simply curled up in her overstuffed floral chair and wept.
~ ~ ~
A week later, Devyn sat in Stone’s living room opposite the ruling mastyr. He’d long since given his report about the battle in Millerell, but he supposed Stone wanted more details.
Across the room, Stone poured two whiskeys into a pair of glass tumblers. He was frowning, thoughtful. Something was on his mind.
Devyn glanced outside. The property was situated in the hills north of the city of Sandismare. A small pine wood traveled the entire perimeter leaving room only for the front driveway and yard. He’d heard rumors that Rosamunde, part wolf, liked to shift and run laps through the pines for exercise.
Rosamunde, the former Queen of Ferrenden Peace, was not at home. For that, Devyn was grateful. He didn’t want to be around another blood rose right now. Memories of Emily over the past week had kept him in a volatile, unsteady state. His temper had been quick and harsh. For the first time in a long time, he’d hoped for Invictus sign during his shift rotation, so he could take out his frustration battling the enemy.
Stone returned and handed Devyn his drink. “You’re probably wondering why the hell I asked you here.”
“Yes. I am.”
He sat down opposite Devyn, his lips in a grim line. He held his drink in both hands and turned it slowly.
