Black Bird (Nevermore Duet #1)

CHAPTER 19

MELTING GLACIERS

It was fine, Sarah told herself. They hadn’t talked yet. Not really. But there was no use hiding the fact that she missed everything about this man. Holding him a little too close wasn’t some huge leap forward … at least that’s what she planned to force herself to believe. She at least waited a while before pulling tighter around him. But when they rounded that curve, and he placed that hand on her leg—she could feel the muscles in his back tense up against her as her thighs involuntarily squeezed. It wasn’t anything sexual at all … just the feeling of being touched like you were wanted—needed.

Sarah pressed her cheek against the leather on his back and looked forward at the sunset outside Boston, where the trees were thickening, and fewer buildings were scattering the land. She hardly felt the cold anymore, and for the first time in a while, even before her attack, she felt peaceful. The howling of wind and the loud rumble of Athan’s bike drowned out every other sound and Sarah closed her eyes, leaning into his warmth. It would have to be tonight. This tense conversation that would undoubtedly change everything but give her all the answers she knew she deserved … they couldn’t spend days locked up together in this cabin without breaking this thick ice first.

She pushed the thought away for the remainder of the ride and tried to enjoy what little amount of silence and mutual understanding they had left until the uneven pavement of the untended roads to the cabin forced her to lean up, and his hand to leave her. They followed closer behind Rhaena’s truck, making several turns until they finally made a left and started down a long dirt driveway that was heavily lined with trees. With what was left of the blotted evening sunlight, the bright yellows and dark reds of the woods nearly glowed around them, and Sarah almost cried at how beautiful it was—how it reminded her of Seattle around this time of year where she lived with her mother outside the city. It felt like coming home. For a split second, she wondered how her mother would feel about Athan, had she still been alive and waiting on the front porch while Sarah brought him home to introduce them.

The truck slowed to a stop, and he gave them a wide berth, pulling around the side of it and stopping in front of a quaint cabin with a covered front porch. It seemed as if Rhaena had made a point to keep the place up. There was even an old swing hanging from a massive oak tree in the small side yard. It had a tin roof that looked like it used to be painted red but was now worn with age and more of a rusty color instead. Sarah looked forward to hearing rain fall against it and silently prayed for some as Athan lowered the stand and offered a hand to help her off the bike .

“Dude, you’ve been holding out on us! I love this already,” Wren clucked, slamming the truck door shut and circling around the hood as she took in all the scenery. Rhaena smiled and opened the back hatch.

“It’s really not as glam as you probably think, Wren. This place is old. Not to mention, I’ve done my fair share of tearing shit up when I turn into a Fleabag .” She cut Wren a glare, but smirked playfully as she pulled one of the bags out of the back of the truck.

“Was this yours?” Sarah asked, pointing back toward the swing with her thumb.

“Yeah. My uncle hung it when I was little. I dunno if I’d sit on it, though. That’s old too, and the last time my rump was on it, I was about seventy pounds.”

Athan didn’t say a word as he pulled his helmet off and helped carry all the bags to the porch like they weighed absolutely nothing. Rhaena had humphed at him when he snatched hers too. Wren reached into the back seat, unbuckling the animals and pulling Denver’s carrier out first. Sarah grabbed Poe while Rhaena unlocked the front door and shoved Athan through it. They followed them inside and if Rhaena had been ashamed of this place, Sarah couldn’t figure out why. Lamps flickered on with the flip of a single switch by the door and revealed a small space so cozy that it made her sleepy just stepping inside. The front door opened into a small living space with a stone fireplace tucked in the far-left corner, a threadbare couch against the wall by the door, and a round braided rug that took up the space along the dark wooden floor. Directly across the cabin was a small open kitchen with a tiny round table that had two wooden chairs. To their right was a single bedroom, which Rhaena and Athan went into to drop the bags off.

Sarah followed Wren into the room and they both paused when they looked at the size of the bed. “Are we all sharing a bed?” Wren asked, scratching her head.

“As flattered as I am, Wren, I’m taking the couch.” Athan smirked, opening the small closet across from the end of Rhaena’s bed. Any retort or snarky response Wren had prepared was choked off by her surprise when they both looked at the chains and the claw marks inside the closet space.

“Oh, my God … Rhaena …” Sarah breathed, pressing her hand to her chest. Rhaena turned and glanced first at the closet, and then to both her and Wren, who said absolutely nothing. “You chain yourself up like this?” Rhaena’s expression softened at Sarah’s concern.

“It’s not as heinous as it looks, Sarah. Don’t worry about me. We’ve come up with different ways over the years to make sure I’m nailed down and don’t hurt anyone. That’s why I come up here on full moons. It’s far enough away to drown me out and there really aren’t any residents here. Mostly just vacation homes that sit empty near the lake until the summer months, and even then, it’s not especially busy here.”

“So … your retreat … to train. This is why you were so banged up that night you came back.” Sarah sighed, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry you have to go through this. ”

Rhaena reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” she started. Sarah met her eyes. “The first time I ever transitioned, I was twelve. I’m okay, Sarah, and I’m used to it. It’s not as bad as it seems. I promise. I’m really okay.” She offered a tight smile. “I do appreciate it, though. More than you can understand.” Athan’s eyes raised up in the corners as if he were beaming with gratitude. Sarah supposed Rhaena really had no one else to confide in or show her concern for her well-being. The fact that they used to sleep together was beside the point. She knew he did care for her, and it was obvious that it was more in a way that Sarah cared for Wren, who surprisingly remained silent as she set Denver’s carrier on the bed and let him out.

“Can we make a fire?” Wren asked, scratching behind Denver’s twitching ears as he sniffed around the covers.

“I’ll do it,” Athan offered, stepping around Sarah and gliding through the doorway. Rhaena took Poe’s cage from Sarah’s hand and followed him into the living room. She cleared off a small hutch along the wall and set him on top of it before turning back to them.

“The three of us can fit on the bed. Sheets and blankets are clean. I make sure to keep up with all of that every time I leave. It’ll be a snug fit, but we’ll manage. If it doesn’t work out, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

“Just like a dog,” Wren snickered. Athan snorted from the living room while he placed wood in the fireplace.

“Keep it up, you two. You’ll find yourselves sleeping on the front porch like dogs ,” Rhaena spat, storming into the kitchen. Sarah couldn’t help but laugh as she shrugged her jacket off. She bent down to open her bag in the closet and got distracted by the chains again. As she knelt down, she trailed her fingertip through the deep claw marks along the inside, and then across the heavy chains that were secured onto a well-built anchoring on the back wall. She couldn’t help but be a little curious about it all but didn’t feel like it was the right time to ask questions as they’d only just arrived there and hadn’t unpacked a thing. A sharp edge along one of the links sliced into her finger and Sarah cursed under her breath, jerking her hand back and hissing.

Wren turned toward her. “What’d you do?” she asked, putting Denver down and stepping over. Not seconds later, Athan paused at the fireplace and his face jerked toward them—a familiar darkness taking over his blue eyes. Sarah glanced down at her bloody finger and her mouth dropped open in panic.

“Shit … Athan, I’m sorry …” Sarah breathed, finding no other quick option than to stick her finger in her mouth. It must have been the wrong choice. His breathing went rogue, and the whites of his eyes disappeared as he ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair and stood up. Rhaena rushed around the corner.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking between them with a carton of broth in her hand. Athan said nothing, and quickly saw himself out the front door to go pace on the porch. Rhaena sniffed and realized without much direction that she was bleeding .

“I’m sorry …” Sarah apologized again, standing.

“Don’t. He’ll be fine. Come in here, I’ve got bandages in the cabinet somewhere.” Rhaena didn’t make any fuss over it, and Sarah followed her into the kitchen.

“As many bodies as you guys see, I’m assuming this happens often?” Sarah asked.

“Actually, no,” Rhaena replied, rummaging through every cabinet. “As weird as this is to say out loud … dead blood doesn’t make him feral. You’re actively bleeding, it’s different. He’ll calm down. Just give him a couple minutes.” She turned around with a box of bandages and plucked one out.

“Dead blood?” Sarah quirked a brow.

Rhaena wrapped a bandage around Sarah’s finger and nodded. “Yeah. Think of it like blood that’s in a bag. This here is fresh. The scent drives him crazy. Might be a little more worse for wear out there because it’s—” she paused and glanced up at her.

“Because it’s mine?” Sarah finished. Rhaena dropped her eyes back down to the bandage and slowly nodded. The conversation reminded her of what she had stashed in her duffle. “Oh … Rhaena?”

“Hmm?”

“That blood bag … I—I brought it with me.” Sarah admitted, earning an uneasy look from her host.

“Gross.” Rhaena smirked. “Go grab it and stick it in the fridge. Please tell me it’s covered up or something.”

“I put it in a box of frozen waffles.” Sarah shrugged.

“What?” Wren barked from the living room—holding said box of waffles. “Eew!” The box dropped, flopping open and the blood bag slid out, sticking halfway out of the paper towel she’d wrapped it in … and just in time for Athan to walk back into the house.

It had nearly knocked the breath from him. The scent of the blood that practically called to him. The same blood that he’d shamefully stolen from her and started this entire disaster. Emotions had run high the day that she’d sliced her feet open in the kitchen, and he was able to push through it then, as he had quite a bit to distract him … but right now. Right now, he was dying to touch her, and dying to be touched by her. Right now, she was toeing the line of making the decision to let him back in or telling him to fuck right off. Right now, there was still so much unsaid between them, and they were about to be stuck without any good reason not to talk about it for God only knew how long. He’d have to get himself together.

Athan paced across the porch as darkness crept through the woods and over the cabin, the crisp smell of dry leaves and cold air replacing the tang of Sarah’s blood—which still left his body trembling at how badly it desired another taste. He stepped down into the yard, taking deep breaths and slowly feeling the bloodlust receding. Once he felt like he’d gathered himself enough, he made his way back to the cabin, opening the door just as Wren yelped and dropped a box of God knows what on the floor. His brows lowered when he caught a glimpse of something he’d recognize if he was blind—a blood bag. In a paper towel. Athan raised his face toward all three of them, shutting the door behind him. They all stood deadly still and stared at him, speechless. He stepped forward, bending over and picking the bag up from the floor. It was hers.

“Sarah, what is this?” he asked, holding the bag out in front of him and peering at her under his brows.

“You know what? Why don’t you guys bundle up and go sit out on the porch. Me and Wren will make some coffee and start something up for dinner,” Rhaena offered, reaching for the bag. “Give it to me. I’ll put it away.” He handed it over, and Sarah stared at him for a moment while Wren nudged her on her way past. Denver followed her into the kitchen.

“Come on,” Sarah said, walking to the couch and taking a blanket that was folded on the arm. She wrapped it around herself and stepped past him, opening the door and turning back to look at him when he didn’t follow her. “You coming?”

Athan’s jaw twitched, and he followed her out, shutting the door softly as they stepped out onto the porch. It was fully dark now, and an owl hooted in the distance. It was the only thing that broke the silence between them as she leaned on a post on the front step. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The sound of his lighter flicking shut turned her around. “Wanna share it?” he asked, sliding the lighter back into his pocket.

“Sure.” Athan stepped forward and they sat down on the step. He took a drag and passed it to her. “That’s the blood bag Conrad was gonna use on the kid at the benefit,” Sarah offered, taking the cigarette between her lips.

“How did you get it?” he asked, puzzled.

“Brent.” She blew smoke and puffed one more time before handing it back to him. “He went to his old house to confront him, and Conrad told him everything. Told him about your Dahlia … she had the other bag.”

His Dahlia …

Athan thought he’d vomit at the sound of that. “That explains the girl at the hotel.”

“Yeah,” Sarah sighed. “Conrad gave him a choice. Brent decided to give the blood back to me. Now I have to decide what I’ll do with it.”

“What are you gonna do with it?” Athan asked, taking his turn and passing the cigarette back. She didn’t answer but shrugged as the cherry lit up her chin. They grew quiet for a moment. “So, Stratford knows his father was working with a vampire coven?”

“He doesn’t know about you.” She stared forward into the darkness of the front yard. “Just her … and whatever other ones are at that club.” The strain in her voice scraped his bones. “He was working with someone else, too. ”

“Who?” Athan asked, accepting the cigarette when she offered it. She looked over at him, then.

“Nick Specter. He was the one that gave them the two bags.”

The cigarette snapped in half between his fingers, and his blood began to boil. “What?” he asked between clenched teeth. Her hand peeked out from beneath the blanket, and she laid it on his knee, though it did little to stop him from wanting to rip Specter’s head from his shoulders. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

“No. Not without me, you won’t.” Sarah leaned closer. “I think it’s about time I started giving them all a taste of their own damn medicine.”

“I’m going with you.” He ground out.

Sarah stilled and those eyes pierced his. “And what if I say no?”

“Sarah …”

“I just told you something that—honestly—was none of your business, as far as I’m concerned. You still haven’t told me the truth. Other than what little I learned at your apartment, I don’t know much more than that. I read quite a bit of the journal you left me, and it still doesn’t give me the words I need to hear from you, Athan. I know there’s a tattoo on your chest that looks exactly like mine, and per that journal … I know why you have it.” Her eyes began to flicker with unshed tears and his chest tightened. “Do you not think I deserve to hear it straight from you?”

“You do.”

“Then why haven’t you tried to come after me?”

Athan bristled and slapped a palm to the step. “Because you told me not to! You told me to stay away from you, Sarah … and I respect you enough to honor that. I can’t tell you how absolutely excruciating it’s been. I can’t even tell you how many times before last night that I picked up that fucking phone just to hear your voice but didn’t. I would have told you anything you wanted to know had you just given me the chance!”

“Then tell me now,” Sarah’s voice cracked with emotion.

Athan’s stomach felt like a washing machine. As bad as he wanted to tell her everything, it also made him so nervous he thought he could hurl. He knew it would eventually get to this point, but he wished so badly that it didn’t have to. It could either go very well, and she might be accepting enough to stand being around him … or she’d continue to hate him the way he deserved. It felt like the entire first month all over again. “Where do you want me to start, Sarah? I told you what happened the night that I lost control. There really isn’t more to tell about that. I told you about the drawer … and what I took from you. You’ve already pieced together the tattoo. What is it that I can say that’ll make you hate me a little less?” His eyes started to burn. “Please, tell me. Cause I can’t deal with this another day.” His throat bobbed and he saw her catch it. Her eyes fixed on his mouth, and she swallowed.

“Tell me about Dahlia. Who is she? What is she?” Sarah turned her body to face him and leaned her back against the post, pulling her knees close to her chest and tightening the blanket around her .

Athan stood, lighting another cigarette to pass back and forth. “Dahlia is the leader of the Black Bird coven. She sired me and just about every other vampire that lives there.”

“Sired you?” Sarah asked.

“ Made me.”

“How long ago was that?”

Athan inhaled deeply and blew out a long breath. “Two hundred and three years ago. I had just turned twenty-four.” Sarah’s mouth parted, and he gathered that although she’d read his journal, it was still probably a shock to hear how old he actually was. His stomach continued to flip as he continued, “My mother had fled from place to place, avoiding everything from war to illness. We ended up in Old London when I was nineteen. That’s where we stayed until—until she was murdered two years later. It had always been just the two of us. I never knew my father. It could have been anyone, really. She sold herself for our well-being and back then … there wasn’t any way to umm …”

“Protect yourself?”

“Right. There were contraceptive tonics, and of course … the other methods that don’t require any medicine, but—oftentimes, the tonics didn’t work, or people thought they were buying something that turned out to be nothing but tea. Anything to make a copper. I was working for a brewery around the time that she went missing. I didn’t usually get in till later in the evenings, and it wasn’t unusual for her to be out if she had a client. I had begged her ever since I got that job to stop selling her body, but … she didn’t. She was found a few days later when she washed up in Hackney Brook. Nobody ever found out who had done it, but she’d had two escorts that night.”

“I’m really sorry,” Sarah offered, passing him the cigarette. “That must have been hard.”

“I didn’t take it well. And I was alone. I wouldn’t have made the kind of money she did at the distillery, and I knew I couldn’t manage myself on that salary, so … I left. I got some training from some of my mother’s friends and I—” He paused, glancing at Sarah in shame. “I started selling myself.” Her brows raised in surprise, then started to lower as if she was realizing now why he was this way. It comforted him that he at least didn’t have to explain in too much detail his reasons for the way he was with women. “I’d never slept with anyone before. I’d kissed a few girls, but nothing ever came of it. Madame Olivia and Lady Gerlene tutored me.” Athan smirked. “I had no idea what I was doing. They taught me all the ways that a woman could be most pleased. Laid down all the rules about the kind of profession that could remain a profession, as long as I followed those rules. No kissing them on the mouth. It was too intimate a gesture, and often made them mistake the job for feelings that weren’t real. Don’t let them explore too much with their hands. Don’t lie with them face to face. Things like that.”

“So, that’s why you never faced Rhaena when you slept together?”

Athan was grateful for the darkness, if for no other reason than to hide the flush of his cheeks. “… yeah. ”

“Was she one of your clients?” Sarah asked, her tone almost territorial. It caused a slight tug in his chest.

“She was. I ended up being one of the most sought out escorts, and the highest paid male one in Old London. It sounds flashy, but I was fucking miserable. After two years of sleeping with lonely women for money, and going home to an empty bed … I really didn’t get how my mother could ever smile the way she did with me. I had gone to the brothel one night, drunk off my ass, and Olivia said that there was a woman that paid an unheard-of amount to have me bed her. I was obliterated and she whooped my ass for it. It didn’t sober me much, but I tried to get my shit together and went up there anyway. That was the night that I met her.” Something icy and painful seeped through him just thinking about it. Sarah remained quiet. “I think she’d been watching me for a while. I started doing what I’d been paid to do, and before I could remember to follow my own rules, she tore my neck apart.”

Athan could feel Sarah staring a hole through him from his peripheral. He continued to stare forward and dragged on his cigarette. “She bled me nearly dry, and when I tried to fight off Death … she pinned me to the bed and drowned me out with a pillow. I don’t really remember what it felt like to die. I only remember what it felt like when she forced her own blood down my throat and my body changed. It was the worst pain I’d ever felt. I had tried to outrun Death … instead, I became it.” He swallowed, and heard Sarah loudly do the same. “She told me that from then on, I belonged to her. That she was gonna give me a life I’d never dreamed of. I still think she actually believes that her life is something to be envied. Immortality has never been a blessing. I’ve been begging God to find a way to kill me ever since.” He looked over at Sarah, who looked like she was about to cry. “That is, until I met you.”

“How did you get out?” Sarah asked hoarsely.

“Years ago, I came up with this idea that I could keep the coven from feeding on humans. I struck up a deal with your boss, and he agreed to supply the coven with plasma. I brought it up at a council meeting with Dahlia and the other higher ups and she agreed to it. I told her I’d like to leave … be out on my own. That I’d try to get a spot with BPD and cover our tracks to hide suspicion because the body count had gotten so bad. She went for it. If I played it her way for about seventy more years and kept the world from knowing what we are … she’d give me my freedom.”

“Your freedom?” Sarah repeated. “So, because she made you … you’re like a slave?”

“Not all sires are like her. She collects people … mostly men. She can force you to do whatever she wants. Especially, if you’ve recently taken her blood. Some covens keep order, but generally just live. Or survive, depending on how you want to look at it.”

Sarah looked lost in thought. “So … what happened with the blood?”

“EverLife was broken into, as I’m sure you heard already. The blood was tainted with influenza and contaminated purposely. All of which happened around the time we suspect Conrad Stratford started teaming up with her, apparently. The night that I saw you at the club … I had a meeting with Dahlia about how many bodies were starting to pop up around the city. We argued about the problem with the blood supply, and she threatened to drop our agreement if I didn’t find a way to fix it. Nobody in that coven gives a shit about human life. They’ll feed on a human without a second thought before they ever lower themselves to feeding on animals.”

“And you think this was her? So that you fail and have no choice but to go back to her?” Sarah asked, raising up to stand.

“I don’t really have any doubt about that anymore, Sarah. And to make matters worse … I think she killed that victim last night with her bare hands. It’s not just the Feds that are after you, or the government … or fucking Stratford. If Dahlia had a bag of her own and turned that girl with it … she must know what your blood is capable of giving her. She wants you, too. And I think she came looking for you last night, but I was there. I think she knows that I—” He paused, swallowing.

“That you what …” Sarah stepped closer. Athan’s heart pounded, and he could hear every beat like a bass drum in his ears. She took his elbow and turned him to face her. “Look at me,” she whispered. He slowly raised his eyes until they locked onto hers and his breathing nearly stopped.

“That I’m in love with you …”

He watched her body droop as if it were the biggest relief. Something in his middle went so tight that he thought whatever it was would snap him in half. It was almost painful. “You love me?” she asked, voice heavy around the obvious tears she was choking back.

“Yes …”

“Say it, Athan. I need to hear you say it.” She reached up and grazed his mouth with her fingertips, and he tried desperately not to close his eyes.

“I love you, Sarah.” It was like taking in air after thinking he’d drown. Like leaping into icy water after being up in flames. “I think I’ve loved you since the first time you spoke to me in that hospital. I didn’t deserve you then, and I don’t deserve you now. I’ve never been in love before. I’m no good at it. I don’t know what it is, or how to use it, but …” He loosed a steadying breath. “I fucking love you. So much that I barely know who the hell I am anymore. You make me forget the monster I am and embrace what it’s like to be human again. You gave me something impossible … and it’s worth so much more to me than being able to enjoy sunlight or live like a normal person. It’s worth so much more than the blood in that bag. You’ve changed every part of me just knowing you, and if knowing you is all I’ll ever get … it was worth everything I’ve ever been through to have it.”

Sarah closed the space between them and threw her arms around his neck, the blanket dropping to the porch when her body crashed into his. Athan took the side of her face in one hand, his other arm wrapping around her back and holding her up as he kissed her. It was deep, tender—violent even, but perfect. More perfect than the couple of hours they spent on his bed the night before she found out the truth. His mouth moved over hers, their tongues warring with the other until his neck felt like it was on fire and the excruciatingly tight pinch in his middle snapped entirely. Sarah flinched at the same time, as if she’d felt it too, and Athan groaned as he tore away from her and grasped at his neck. It pulsed under his hand, and he looked over to Sarah who was now holding her chest, as well as her stomach.

“What just happened?” She panted raggedly. He was about to tell her that he didn’t know, but before he could say a word, the pain eased and was slowly replaced by a tether so strong that it was without question.

She was his mate. And they were just bound together. And the pain he’d just felt …

“You severed it,” Athan breathed, his eyes widening. “You broke the bond that tied me to her.”

“What?” Sarah rested against the post, shaking. “How? What does it mean?”

“I—I don’t know, for sure …”

“Athan …” Sarah’s head cocked to the side in irritation as she continued to breathe heavily.

“I really don’t, Sarah. The only theory that makes sense is that you and I are—we’re mates … and you just claimed me.”

She straightened and furrowed her brows. “By mate, I’m assuming you don’t mean a chum…a good buddy?” He tried not to smirk as he shook his head. “Is that possible? ”

“I’m not sure. The only person that might know is at that club.”

“Dahlia?”

“No … your cute bartender , Tony.” Athan narrowed his eyes and Sarah smirked a little.

“So … I shouldn’t kiss you then?” she asked.

“I don’t think that’s what did it, Sarah.”

“Am I—am I gonna turn into a vampire, now?” He knew it was an innocent question but couldn’t stop the smile from crawling across his mouth. He stepped closer to her, picking the blanket up and pulling it around her.

“No, love … that requires something entirely different.” His smile faded when he saw the obvious worry in her face at the thought of changing into something she still didn’t understand. “Hey …” He gripped her shoulders a little tighter, steadying her, and she finally looked up. “You’re safe. It’s alright. I’ll never force anything on you. Not even this bond.”

“If it’s already there, then what can you do to stop it?” she asked, still trembling and pulling the blanket tighter. “This doesn’t sire me?”

“It doesn’t. You haven’t taken my blood. You can still walk away from this just as easily as you have the past couple of weeks, if that’s—if that’s what you want.” The last few words hung between them for several minutes.

“I need some time,” she whispered, staring at his neck. “I’ve wanted to hear you say that ever since I first saw you at that club, Athan, but …” She sighed and slowly shook her head. “There’s just so much happening at once. Now there’s this. I don’t know what to do with it all. I just need some time.”

He lifted her chin with a finger until the gold flecks in her hazel eyes danced with broken swatches of moonlight. “I understand. I really do. I just dropped a lot on you, Sarah. I would think finding out I was an ancient hooker would be hard enough to hear without the rest of it.”

Sarah huffed a laugh. “No, stop. That part wasn’t—” She reached up and took his hand. “That’s not your life anymore. I’d never feel any different about you, knowing that. Look at all the stupid shit I’ve done lately. You have less to be ashamed of than I do.”

“Are you saying it doesn’t bother you? Knowing how many women I’ve slept with?” An honest question, really.

“Well for someone as fucking decrepit as you are, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised to hear a high number, should I?” Sarah smiled, melting whatever remained of the glacier between them, and his heart along with it. Athan grinned, bashfully.

“So, I’m decrepit, am I?” He snorted.

“I like it better than ancient hooker.”

He wanted so badly to kiss her again … among every other thing he wished he could do. But he’d give her all the time she needed to come to grips with the reality of their situation. “I’ll give you space, Sarah. As much as you need. I’m not going anywhere.” He released her hand and backed away until he met the post on the opposite side of the step and leaned against it.

She was quiet for a moment, but then turned toward the cabin door. “Thank you,” she offered softly, pausing to look at him. All he could manage was a slight nod and a half-smile as he slipped another cigarette into his mouth. She gave one back and went inside, leaving him to his thoughts.

As soon as she was out of his sight, Athan nearly lost his composure. He touched his neck and fought back tears of absolute joy. Why was God blessing him with so much at her expense? First his new life, and now his freedom—freedom he was convinced he’d never have. Every picture of angels that he’d ever seen didn’t look like her but damn it … she had to be. He had to have sent her to him after centuries of begging to either die and take his rightful place in Hell or give him a rope he could pull himself out of it with. Whatever choice she made at this point shouldn’t matter. He had already been given way more than he deserved, though he selfishly hoped she would still want him after all of this. Athan smoked down his cigarette until the filter began to burn and finally joined his company for whatever Rhaena was burning inside.