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And his gut twisted so tight he really could take on a legion of demons at this very moment and tear every single one of them to pieces. His fury raged within him, bright and voracious.
“I don’t understand,” he said. Feeling helpless all over again. None of this made sense to him.
“You weren’t supposed to know,” she said, still whispering as though there weren’t enough umph left in her to give him anything more. “No one was supposed to know. And now…” She sighed in obvious despair. “It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?” he asked in a quiet voice, trying to not overwhelm her. Trying to tamp down all the emotions consuming him.
“Immortality,” she said and glanced up him. Then she winced. “Oh!” Her head ducked into his armpit and she shuddered in his arms.
“Bev.” His insides twisted tighter. “Tell me exactly where it hurts.”
“I did.” She eased away from him but didn’t make it far. Her eyes bulged in their sockets as she stared at her naked body. “Everywhere.”
Cane leapt to his feet and swore a blue streak. He paced in short, quick patterns and then swore some more.
“Not your fault,” she said.
He stared down at her body. Where had all those bruises come from? Just an hour ago, she’d been in top form—perfect and lovely. Exquisite in every way.
Now…
“Goddamn.” He swiped a hand over his face. “Bev.”
“It’s just because I’m not immortal anymore.” Her voice was still weak. Still filled with fear and uncertainty.
Cane didn’t understand. What the hell had happened tonight?
To them? To him? To her?
“Can you help me, please? To the bed?”
He scooped her up carefully in his arms, gathering her close, though mindful of her new fragility. And all those purple marks marring her bronze skin. Especially between her legs and on her hips. Placing her gently on the bed, he pulled the duvet around her. She leaned back into the pillows and stared at him a moment, as though she was still processing all that had transpired in the last half hour. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her watch him.
Finally, a wry smile touched her lips. “This is ironic.”
“What is?” He reached out to her and brushed strands of her hair from her wet cheeks.
“I was going to tell you my story. Tonight. I thought you were mortal and I wanted to be mortal too. So we wouldn’t have to part in the morning. So we could be together.” She shook her head and let out a sharp laugh. “I didn’t know what would happen if I did, though. I mean, I know the ‘rules’. I’m a descendant of the Aztec rain god Tlaloc.” Her gaze shifted to the patio doors. The rain had stopped, the storm had retreated. The night was quiet.
“Did you…?” No, of course not.
But she nodded. “Start the storm? Yes. The first day I arrived in Savannah. The very second I laid eyes on you. Because of my attraction to you. It’s part of who I am—was.”
“How’d you lose your immortality? I don’t understand, Bev.”
“Part and parcel of the gift. Secrecy is key. It’s how immortals exist in this world. You know that.”
He conceded the valid point with a nod.
“I’ve kept my secret for six hundred years. It was destined to come out eventually. Too hard to hide it as the world changes.”
“Six hundred… Jesus,” he said and let out a low whistle. “You’re damned old, baby.”
She laughed softly, despite the dire predicament. “And how old are you?”
“Two hundred and change.”
“Mm, that makes me the oldest cougar in existence.”
