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He clutched her hands. “I couldn’t protect you. Sara, forgive me. I couldn’t protect you.”
“Three years,” she whispered once he finished. She extended her wrist with the tattoo. “That’s when I got this. I never understood why I wanted it. Just that something seemed missing.” She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “You,” she whispered, her voice full of wonder and love. “Luke,” she said, making him want to weep with joy. “It was you all along.”
A tear snaked down her cheek, and her voice shook as she whispered. “And my father…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I remember that, too. He worked for the PEC, but he thought that the Shadow creatures should make themselves known to the humans. I can see why he believed that. He was so fascinated with this world. Your world.”
“Yours too, now.”
She nodded, tears sparkling in her eyes. “I miss him,” she whispered, the pain in her voice breaking his heart. “Serge,” she whispered. “I remember Serge confessing that he killed him.”
Luke swallowed. “I remember that, too.”
“He was a traitor,” she said, a single tear escaping. “My father, I mean. He was going to leak the truth about the Shadow world, with no plan and no authority. There would be a war, of course. And to silence him, Tiberius ordered him killed.”
“He issued the order, yes. But all Alliance leaders sanctioned the decision.”
“Do you think it was the right call?”
Luke’s entire body went tense. He would answer, but he needed to tell her all of it. But how could he when she was in his arms again? How could he after she’d said that she had loved him? When he desperately wanted her to love him again?
“Yes,” he finally said. “It was the right call. The world is not ready for the truth, but your father was a good man who believed that people could get along. That their better natures would always win out.”
“But that’s not how the world works, is it?”
“No,” he said.
“He always did see the good,” she said. “He was always so kind.”
“Tell me about him,” Luke said gently, both because he wanted to soothe her and because he wanted to know everything about her.
“He used to tell me stories when I got scared,” she said. Her expression remained flat, fixed. And just when he was about to give up hope, a soft smile touched her lips. “He’d hold me and spin tales about anything that came to mind.” She relaxed as she spoke. “And what came to mind was usually something paranormal. He’d talk about creatures living among humans. About the world changing and being full of power and magic. When I was little, the stories lulled me back to sleep. When I was older, I’d pretend to have bad dreams just so I could stay up late and listen to him.”
“I had a daughter once,” Luke said. “I would do the same for her. Soothe her with stories until she fell asleep in my arms.” Automatically, he reached into his pocket, his fingers seeking the tiny gold serpent ring he’d given Livia on her fifth birthday. Even through his dark haze, he’d thought to keep it all those centuries ago, a reminder of the family he’d once had and a talisman from which he could draw strength to soothe the writhing serpent. He had not been without it since that fateful day, but it was gone now, wrenched from him and put into an envelope with his other personal effects in the detention area.
The softness in Sara’s eyes worked like a balm against the sadness that had welled in his heart. “I bet she was very pretty.”
“That she was,” he said. “And with the sweetest disposition.”
She started to ease toward him, then stopped, carefully planting herself on the far side of the bed from him. “Luke—”
He lifted the tulip, wanting to silence her, not wanting to hear that he needed to leave, especially since all he wanted to do was stay. “I’m sorry you didn’t like the flowers.”
Her cheeks bloomed pink. “I liked them.”
He glanced at the wastebasket.
She lifted an eyebrow, amused. “That? That’s because I didn’t much like you.”
“And now?”
She swallowed, hesitated. “Don’t press your luck,” she said, but he saw the smile in her eyes, and there was no way she could hide the scent of her arousal or the way her nipples peaked beneath the thin T-shirt.
He inched closer to her, the comforter the only barrier between them.
“You can’t be here,” she said, but she didn’t retreat. “I can’t make peace with what you did to Braddock.”
“But I am here,” he said. “And I have not been found guilty yet.”
“Luke, we can’t.” But she didn’t ask him to leave.
