Black Bird (Nevermore Duet #1)

CHAPTER 20

THE RIGHT THING

Brent’s eyes peeled open as he laid across his stiff couch, uncovered and half-hanging off the edge. The sounds of knocking on his apartment door rang in his ears and his head pounded. The morning news played quietly on the TV as he slowly raised himself up and palmed his face, rubbing at the growing stubble on his jawline. He drank entirely too much last night. He nearly tripped over his own feet on his way to the door. It creaked open and a straggly guy in a cheap suit looked him over, clearly shocked to see him in this state. He didn’t recognize him.

“Brent Stratford?” the man asked, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up his nose.

“Yeah?” Brent yawned, rubbing the back of his neck and leaning against the doorway.

“You’ve been served,” he replied, handing him a brown envelope and tightening his mouth as if in pity before turning and walking back down the quiet hallway. Brent drew his brows and slammed the door, opening the envelope and pulling the papers out. It was almost comical. He couldn’t help but laugh through his nose. A restraining order. From his father. As one of the best lawyers in the city, he knew there really wasn’t anything that could be done about it. It likely didn’t matter anyway. He’d be perfectly content never seeing the bastard again.

Brent trudged back to the couch, tossing the envelope across the large coffee table on top of the remains of his buffalo wings from the night before. The only thing that this complicated was his access to see his mother, though he hadn’t recently made much attempt to go visit her anyway. It would be just like his coward father to slap a restraining order on him after telling him the most ludicrous shit he may not have even believed had it not been for the confirmation on Sarah’s face when he showed up with her blood that night. She knew more than she was willing to tell him and while he wanted to know, the bigger part of him wished he’d never showed up at the mansion at all.

Sarah never physically seemed to be anything but human as long as he’d been with her. She was a little on the dark side in plenty of aspects, but nothing about her screamed vampire aside from her choice in wardrobe. He doubted very seriously that she was and wouldn’t know what to compare it to other than the obvious myths from scary stories. She was a victim of a much bigger evil than supernatural blood fiends … although now, it seemed that was what the government actually was, if they’d been responsible for torturing her like that. The fact that he had anything to do with it, even unknowingly, made him sick to his stomach. He flexed his stiff hand across his knee and looked down at the swollen br uised knuckles. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever hit someone.

Wren had actually shown some concern after he’d stupidly put on that show at the sports bar. He still couldn’t figure out why he’d done it. When that prick’s hands went for her tits, he reacted without a second thought. Maybe he was losing it. Maybe he just wanted to do something right. Something more . His eyes glanced up to the TV screen and it was as if someone slapped him in the face. A wake-up call. A little girl in a Red Sox beanie with a very familiar face giving an interview from the children’s hospital about the commotion at the benefit that no one could seem to figure out. Her mother sat next to her in a chair looking every bit as exhausted as she was hopeless. Sarah had every right to do what she had done, but it had taken away the promise of precious time from someone who truly deserved to have it. Something in his chest tightened.

His father had said that Brent was that little girl’s hero and would only do the trial under the condition that they meet face to face. He had nothing to offer her. But maybe seeing him would lift her spirits at the very least. If he didn’t get off this couch now, he’d probably let himself slip into a hole he wouldn’t soon crawl out of. Brent stood, turning off the television, and heading up the unrailed steps to his loft.

The precinct was extra busy this morning with the amount of new bodies taking up space they didn’t have and making themselves far too comfortable for Foley’s liking. They had practically turned the only available conference room into FBI headquarters and the precinct’s coffee supply was already dwindling. He stirred two packs of sugar into his mug and sipped from it on his way back to his office. Rachel Foster glanced up at him as one of the other agents continued to fill her ear with more bullshit at Northwood and Kane’s desks and she placed a hand on her hip as he met her eyes on his way through his door, slamming it behind him. Before he’d even had the chance to sit down in his chair and put his coffee down, she knocked.

“It’s open,” he called, minimizing all the open tabs on his computer and leaning over the back of his chair. Foster stepped inside and chose not to sit down, instead leaning herself against the wall across from him.

“Where are they?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“If you’re talking about the extra boxes of coffee, I’m afraid you’re out of luck, Agent Foster.” He made it a point not to look at her.

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your sweet detectives aren’t making themselves look any less guilty here, Captain.”

Foley raised his eyes to her. “My detectives are not the bad guys. They catch the bad guys and work tirelessly … even from home. They’re not guilty of anything, in my opinion, other than making you sweat.”

“Oh, I’m as dry as one can get, I assure you. ”

Foley quirked a brow and smirked. “I’d say that’s an understatement.”

Foster huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes. “So, the second body that turns up that has a heavy resemblance to your only surviving witness, has the name of one of your detectives written in blood … the same detective that has a photo that clearly wasn’t taken as part of this case, stashed in his desk drawer? That doesn’t seem suspicious to you at all?”

“He got too close. I took them both off the case. I already warned them what would happen. The only thing suspicious to me is that you feel the need to go through a detective’s personal belongings to build your own case. He gave you everything you could possibly need.”

“Did he?” Foster smiled, pushing off the wall and approaching his desk. “Because it seems to me that if it wasn’t personal to begin with, then it certainly is now. And I find it even more strange that his captain hasn’t pieced that together before it got to this point. Now, I don’t give a shit whatever little love triangle is going on here with this witness. What I do know is that body after body is starting to accumulate in this city, and strangely they all seem to revolve around your sexy detective and his little love interest. If that doesn’t bother you, Captain … then I question whether you’re capable of drawing a professional line here.”

“Get the hell out of my office,” Foley sneered, leaning his tall frame across the desk.

“Oh, I plan to. As soon as you tell me where I can find Athan Kane and the girl that I’ve been tasked with bringing in. You swore an oath, Captain. Do the right thing. Your city depends on it.”

Foley turned a framed photo of his military portrait towards her. “You see this, Agent Foster? I’ve spent many years serving my country. A country that repeatedly told us we were doing the right thing. There came a point where I had to make a decision, between what was right … and what was easy. Nobody ever cared how many bodies dropped on either side, as long as they were outside of this country. You can try to tell yourself that following orders is the right thing if that’s what makes you sleep better at night. It’s clear to me that there’s a lot more than a murderer after this girl, and nothing about it smells right to me. Going with my gut has been something that served me well when I made one of the biggest decisions of my life. So … this is me telling you that I don’t know where they are. And I wouldn’t tell you even if I did.”

Foster smirked at him, sneering as she did and backed away towards the door. “Suit yourself, Captain. I hope your gut is worth whatever you might lose for following it. I’ll make sure to replace your coffee.” With that, she turned and walked out, leaving the door open out of spite and continuing to hold onto that smile as she passed his window and headed back towards her team.

He thought back to his time in service. At all the horrible things he did under contract. All the things he wished he could forget, and all for the sake of what he had been manipulated to believe was right. He loved his country and wanted to protect it. But he refused to be a part of what he knew was being cooked up in private offices and piles of money. Whatever interest everyone had in Sarah St. James was enough for one of his best and most private detectives to risk it all to protect her. He knew deep down that Athan Kane was harboring some dark secrets. The skeletons Kane had in his closet were breaking out to come after him, and now Northwood and this victim were in the crosshairs right along with him. He thought back to the day that he’d asked them to go question St. James while she recovered in the hospital. It was the first time that Foley had seen Kane appear off kilter since he’d been here. As much as he hated to admit that Agent Foster was onto something—she was. And he’d had that suspicion for a long while now.

Foley picked up his desk phone and dialed Northwood. It went straight to her voicemail. He tried Kane next … same thing. At least they had been smart enough to make themselves invisible. Brandon Jenkins passed by his office door on his way to the break room. Foley downed half his cup of coffee and followed behind him, cracking the door nearly closed when they found themselves alone.

“Mornin’ Cap,” Jenkins nodded toward him as he rinsed out his mug.

“Jenkins.” Foley dipped his head, refilling his own. He passed the pot to the detective and tried to appear normal while the agents across the precinct took turns glancing through the blinds—Foster especially. Foley leaned against the counter. “Jenkins, I know you and Northwood are close.”

Jenkins stiffened. “I—I dunno what you’re talk—”

“Relax, detective. I don’t care who you all spend your time with as long as it doesn’t interfere with your job. I believe I’ve been clear about that. I’m telling you I know for a different reason, and I need you to listen carefully.”

“Alright, sir.”

“Those agents are gonna try to pick apart anything they can about Kane and Northwood. If there’s anything leading them to you, then you’ll be the next one they come after for answers. If you care about her, then you better have something in play to steer them away from any answers that lead them to her . Wherever she is, Kane likely is, and whatever they’ve gotten themselves into, they’re gonna need help with. I’m gonna do my part in keeping them cloaked for as long as I can. While they’re off the radar, we need to do what we can to help them out, and in my experience, two are better than one. Can I trust you, Jenkins?”

“Yes, sir. Absolutely.” Jenkins turned away from the break room window and stirred condiments into his coffee. “I know where they are. If it comes down to it, I’ll do whatever it takes to throw them off. Just let me know when you need me.”

“I need you to sign out a laptop and go home. Do some digging away from the precinct and keep their eyes off of you.”

“Alright. What am I digging for?”

Foley sighed deeply and made his way to the door. “Anything you can find out about Conrad Stratford and Black Bird Tavern.”

“After all I’ve done to help you, this is the thanks I get?”

“Thanks? Let me be clear, Senator. We’re both in the same position, as of now. The only difference between you and I, is that I haven’t started waving my white flag … nor do I plan to. There are still plenty more options for you. Mine are limited. I suppose you’ll have to decide for yourself what sacrifices you’ll make to obtain what you want.”

“I didn’t think you’d be careless enough to lose your source.”

Dahlia barked a laugh. “And I didn’t think you’d be daft enough to willingly give yours away. Either get it back yourself or find another way. That’s what I plan to do.”

“I can’t do that. I’ve filed a restraining order.”

“For someone that pushes papers for a living, you sure are transparent about the power they have over you. All this fame and position that you have, and yet you have no idea what power truly is.”

“I need that blood.”

“Then I suggest you find out what happened to it now that you’ve gone soft. You’re a fool. I have nothing to offer you, no matter what you’re willing to give. And the moment that I do have it in my grasp, you won’t be the first priority on my list, Senator.”

“What if I were to help you get it?”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“Well … another difference between you and I is that I won’t turn into a piece of charcoal during the day. What do you need?”

Dahlia sighed loudly. “Come to the club tonight. I need to sleep. Meet me at my office around ten this evening. Come alone.”

“Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t thank me yet, Conrad. I’d much prefer to see you dead.”

“As long as I can do at least one thing before that happens, I’ll let you drain every drop.”

“Oh, you misunderstand. Nobody thirsts for your kind. It goes down like sour milk. Do not be late.”

Call ended.

Rhaena stood over the deep freezer that was tucked into the storage closet around the back of the cabin. Athan stood next to her, helping pick out possible meals they could have for the remainder of the week. The bite of oncoming winter and the frosty chill of the air circling the surface of the freezer was doing little to satisfy her hot flashes. She fanned herself with a hand and sighed .

“You’ve still got three more days,” Athan said, stacking another bag of frozen vegetable soup.

“They’re not bad yet. But they will be. I’m worried about Sarah and Wren.”

“They’ll be fine, Rhaena. You make one hell of a fuss, but I’m here. I won’t let you get out of control. You know that.”

Rhaena let the door drop closed and stacked the food on top of it as she leaned against it and crossed her arms. “You never told me how everything went last night.”

Athan went rigid. “I told her everything.”

“Everything?” Rhaena repeated.

He nodded and glanced up at her. He seemed lighter … more relaxed than she’d seen him in a very long time. Still, she could tell something wasn’t quite right. He picked a cat hair off his white t-shirt and made a face at it before letting it fall to the floor. Rhaena leaned her face toward him as if he weren’t catching her obvious impatience for details. He huffed and crossed his arms.

“I told her I loved her.”

She felt a surge of excitement, followed by another hot flash and smiled as she fanned herself through it. “Okay … and?”

“She didn’t say it back, but—I kissed her and … something happened.” His hand reached up to the side of his neck and Rhaena drew her brows together.

“Wait … you didn’t … turn—”

“No … hell no. But … Dahlia’s bond broke. It’s like it snapped and disappeared.”

“How the hell?” Rhaena countered, more confused than ever.

“We’re mated, Rhaena.” His eyes were longing, and desperate. “She claimed me, I think. Severed the siring bond and replaced it with her own. I can feel it. I can feel her , even from outside the house.”

“Holy shit … does she know?”

“Yeah, she knows. She’s a little overwhelmed. She asked for some time.” He started gathering the frozen food and stacked them into his arm.

“I see. It doesn’t sound like she’s giving up on you, though. I think she’ll come around,” Rhaena offered, stepping out into the dry grass. It crunched beneath their boots and the smell of colder weather pressed heavy on her senses. “Do you feel better?” she asked, closing and securing the storage room door.

“Yeah … I really do.”

They walked toward the back steps and Rhaena slowed, turning to face him. “Then why don’t you look happy?”

He looked around at the trees and smiled softly at the sunlight filtering through them. Rhaena couldn’t help but admire how attractive he looked when the wind caught his hair, and it shifted over his brow. “I am happy,” he said quietly, meeting her stare and shrugging a shoulder. “I already have way more than I deserve. I just miss her still.” Rhaena’s mouth turned up in the corner .

“It’s cute.” A rough laugh rasped in her throat.

“What?”

“Seeing you in love. I like this side of you.” She nudged his elbow with hers and he rolled his eyes. “Do we have enough logs in the house? I feel like this weather is gonna get worse.”

Athan glanced back up at the sky. “What are you talking about? It’s bright as fuck out here.”

“Look, I may not be as old as you, but I’m an entirely different creature. I know what I feel, and I feel like something’s coming. Do we have enough, or not?”

“No, not unless you have more out here somewhere.”

“I do, but it’s not cut. Wanna take out your frustration on a stump?”

“Is that your nice way of telling me to make myself useful, Fleabag?” He smirked. Rhaena whacked him in the arm, reaching for the freezer bags.

“Alright, Blood Daddy …” she cackled. “Give me those. The stump is by the tree line. There’s an ax in the shed.”

“You don’t say,” Athan crooned, smiling as he shoved her on his way past toward the woods.

Rhaena snorted as she went up the stairs and in through the back door.

Wren swatted at Denver, who was getting a bit too curious of the large bird in the tiny cage that squawked relentlessly at his proximity on the hutch.

“Get back, fatty. That’s not a buffet.”

“Wren, you better get a handle on your pussy before Athan does,” Rhaena called from the kitchen, loading a crock pot with frozen soup.

Sarah jerked her head around. “What?”

“The cat,” Wren clarified, throwing her hands up when Rhaena cackled.

“Not funny,” Sarah snapped, returning her attention to the handwritten book that was laying against her raised knees on the couch.

“What are you reading?” Wren asked, shutting Denver in the bedroom and walking over to where Sarah was sitting.

“It’s his journal. He left it at my house the other night when he was stalking me like a creep.” Sarah smiled, turning the page. Wren sat down on the couch, grabbing the remote to a really old boxy TV and switching it on.

Sarah and Athan had kept their distance from each other last night after they’d gotten in, and neither Wren nor Rhaena pressed for answers until she was ready to give them. It had taken almost an hour after they’d gone to bed for her to open up about it, and Wren was surprised to hear her initiate that conversation on her own. After the benefit, she’d been a little distant from her again, but Wren understood that sometimes you just needed a few days to yourself to process everything before confiding in someone. Rhaena had been dead asleep when Sarah started whispering about their conversation on the porch, so she could only assume that maybe she was a little apprehensive about sharing all the details with someone so close to Athan yet. As bad as Wren wished she could talk to Rhaena about it, she wouldn’t risk being called a Judas again.

She noticed that Athan ate very little of the chicken soup they’d poorly made last night and seemed to have a great deal on his mind. He had barely spoken this morning either, after making coffee for everyone and neatly tidying up where he’d slept. Wren had caught him staring after Sarah several times before they had decided it was time to call it a night.

“Where is Athan, anyway?” Wren finally asked, flipping through channel after channel.

“Outside,” Rhaena called as she plundered around the kitchen and repeatedly stopped to fan herself.

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked, noticing the repeated movement.

“Yeah, I’m good. Part of the process. I’ll probably be a bit more dramatic as the week goes on, guys. I’m sorry.”

“Anything we can do, Rhae?” Wren chirped.

“Nah, just try to relax while it’s quiet. The busier I keep myself, the easier it is to get it off my mind. I’ve got this.”

Wren looked over at Sarah who had lost herself in the journal again, and then glanced back to the TV, stopping on the first channel she could find that came in clearly. As the marquee scrolled at the bottom of the small screen, Wren squinted to read it and then her eyes popped.

“Hey, look!” She pointed up at the TV with the remote still in hand. Sarah raised her eyes from her book. “They’re talking about the benefit you guys were at.”

Sarah closed the journal and lowered her knees as she leaned forward. “Turn it up, Wren.”

“Police say there still isn’t any information they can offer regarding the strange incident, or if it was simply a hoax.” The screen flashed from the reporter to an eyewitness that was dressed to the nines in a hideous yellow gown. “We heard gunshots. They keep telling us that there weren’t any, but I’m not sure how anyone could mistake something like that.” Wren and Sarah exchanged looks but said nothing as the reporter came back on the screen. “Many attendees of the highly anticipated event withdrew their generous donations, while others felt the cause was still important, even given the murky circumstances. Causes like the special guest at the event who still prays for answers.” The next image was a young girl in a red beanie who sat in a hospital bed. Wren saw Sarah’s expression drop and her face pale. “I was promised a future. A future I probably won’t have if they never figure this out.” The screen remained fixed on the little girl and the reporter’s voice continued over the silent video. “Nine-year-old Anne has been battling an aggressive blood cancer for much of her short life. She says that Senator Stratford proposed a trial that could spare her from treatments that are no longer effective. She and her family were hopeful, but those dreams took a dramatic turn when the Senator suddenly retracted his announcement and left her and her family side-stage.”

“Oh, lay it on thick, Stratford,” Wren hissed, rolling her eyes. Sarah shushed her and grabbed the remote from her hand to turn the volume up higher.

“The unexpected change of pace started when eyewitnesses say that this woman,” Sarah’s driver’s license photo appeared on screen alongside a snapshot of her being held by the arms at one end of the stage and Wren took in a sharp breath. “Believed to be his son’s former fiancé, threatened to reveal something the Senator clearly wanted to remain quiet. He canceled the event and was seen leaving with her afterwards.” Her picture disappeared and another clip of all the guests outside of the hotel played while the reporter continued. “Guests from the event recall hearing the shots a short time later, and then were forced to evacuate the building. Police say that upon investigation, there was no evidence of a body or a possible crime scene. There’s been no statement from Senator Stratford regarding the unexplained situation.” The little girl reappeared, and Sarah slunk back into the couch, clearly taken aback by the brief. “I just want him to step up. It’s a horrible feeling to have a clock ticking on your life, and then have a chance of being given more time, only to have it jerked away without reason.”

Sarah switched the TV off, tossing the remote onto the couch and springing up. Wren didn’t have any words of comfort as she watched her walk out the front door without a coat—or her cigarettes. It wasn’t like Sarah wasn’t used to seeing her face on the news or in tabloids, and Wren knew that she was well-aware of what she was doing when she made a scene at the benefit. She wanted to be seen and heard, so it wasn’t that. Sarah and Brent had successfully made Conrad look like the biggest asshole in the country. She thought they’d be happier about it. But so far, Brent looked like he’d been hit by the bus Wren always prayed would find him, and Sarah wasn’t much better off these days. It was safe to say Wren was getting a bit weary of all the drama.

Rhaena was oblivious to the entire ordeal and popped her head around the corner while she fanned herself with what looked like a wall calendar. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, she just went to get some air,” Wren lied, raising from the couch and grabbing Sarah’s hoodie and cigarettes. “I’ll be back, okay?”

“Kay.” Rhaena smirked, returning to the crock pot.

When she walked outside, Wren was met with a rush of cold air. Much colder than it was when they’d arrived here yesterday. It was beautiful out though, and the thought of packing up and renting this place from Rhaena crossed her mind. She caught sight of Sarah testing the security of the rope swing in the side yard and skipped down the porch steps to join her.

“Hey,” Wren said, lighting a cigarette and passing Sarah her jacket. Sarah leaned forward to take it and Wren stepped back. “Whoa … careful with those. Frickin’ tits could cut a pear-shaped diamond. ”

Sarah snorted and rolled her eyes as she pulled the hoodie over her head and held her hand out for the pack of smokes. “Sorry,” she smirked, lighting one up. “I just couldn’t listen to it anymore.”

“Why? Isn’t that what you wanted?” Wren asked, blowing smoke. “What’s got you all fired up?” She moved behind Sarah and grabbed both sides of the swing to pull her backward. Sarah’s arms hung around the ropes and came together across her middle.

“Yeah, it is. I’m just …” She paused and bit the inside of her cheek, shaking her head slowly. “That little girl. I haven’t been able to forget her damn face since the whole thing at the benefit and seeing her up there on the screen really didn’t fucking help.”

“You wanna give her the blood,” Wren affirmed, pushing her forward.

“I came to Boston to get answers. I definitely got some, just not the ones I wanted. So far, I’ve found out how many snakes are hiding around every corner, ready to strike at me at any given moment. I found out my dream guy, who was off-limits to begin with, is a fucking vampire, of all things. There’s an elected official, a whole government, and a coven full of undead that are after me, and my boss at the job I thought I busted my ass to get, sold me out to said snakes for his own benefit.” Sarah took a long drag on her cigarette and the wind blew their hair into their faces. “I tested my blood. I know what it does. I know if I give it to her, she’ll likely heal. I tested a piece of Mom’s crushed up ashes, and while it was beautiful, it did absolutely nothing to help me. All I’ve done is make the target on my back bigger, Wren. If I give my blood to that little girl, then everybody will know there’s a cure out there. I’ll never have a life. And it seems selfish to even think that when a nine-year-old is rotting in a hospital about to die of disease.” Wren quieted as Sarah loosed a deep sigh and hung her head as she swung. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Well …” Wren quirked a brow and puffed on her cigarette. “You don’t really know that, either. You could give it to her, and nothing happens. The only thing we’re sure of is the effect it had on Athan. He was already dead, technically.”

“I tested my blood against the tainted bags at the lab. I have a strong feeling that giving it to her will do exactly what I think it will do.”

“You need to test it on someone . Someone living. Maybe then you might get the opposite result and the government won’t really have any reason, at least, to come after you anymore. Neither would Conrad.”

“I’m not using someone the way that they used me, Wren. No human was ever meant to be a lab rat.”

Wren’s brows drew together with an idea. Ludicrous, but … an idea, nonetheless. “What about someone who isn’t human?”

“We already know what that does.”

“To a vampire.” Wren stopped the swing and Sarah turned to look at her with wide eyes. “What if we asked Rhaena?”

“Are you crazy? We don’t even know how bad off she gets when she changes, Wren. Who’s to say that even if she agrees that it won’t make things ten times worse for her? ”

“It was just a thought. But imagine if she did agree, and it changed her life for the better?”

“So, if she said yes, you’re saying I should use the bag on her?”

Wren made a face. “No, dude. Why would you use a bag on her?” She pointed at Sarah’s bandage that was still wrapped around her finger as it brought the cigarette back to her lips. “You’ve got all you need to test the theory. You’re the only blood guru besides Platelet Pete in there.” Wren chuckled, gesturing to the cabin. “Do your guru shit.”

Sarah’s smoke burst through her nose and mouth as she laughed loudly. “Platelet Pete,” she howled. “That’s awful, Wren.”

Wren shrugged and took one last drag before stomping her cigarette out. “It’s not as awful as the tension between you two. Come with me. I wanna show you how damn stupid you are.” She stepped around the swing and grabbed Sarah’s hand to drag her around the side of the house where loud whacking was growing louder as they hid around the corner. Athan was close to the tree line hacking away at some large logs with an old, rusted ax—the entire top half of his heavily inked body glistening with sweat while his white t-shirt hung from his hip. “Dear God … I will change my ways. I will go to church. Donate to charity …” Wren’s fingers steepled in front of her and Sarah snorted and shoved her elbow into her ribs. “Ow, bitch …” They pressed into the side of the cabin and continued to watch him. “It’s massive, isn’t it?”

Sarah didn’t take her eyes off Athan, her mouth slightly open. “Huh?”

“Don’t hold out on me. You know damned well what I’m talking about. He can’t be blessed enough to look like that and have a tiny wiener.” Wren shook her head, wincing when Sarah hit her again. “Tell me! Is that why you haven’t jumped his old ass bones yet? You scared?”

“No, I’m not scared. Not of that part, anyway,” Sarah lowered her voice while they watched him lift an entire log over his head and place it down on the stump like it weighed no more than Wren’s cat.

“Then what? Cause you are without a doubt the most restrained motherfucker I’ve ever met in my life.” Wren chewed her lip.

“You forget why we’re able to watch him do this in the daylight, Wren.”

Wren turned her face to her and scowled. “You remember when I was giving you the business about Brent at the club that night you were attacked? You kept assuring me he was a good guy. Then we find out I was right, but that’s beside the point. Lemme take a page from your book on this one, Sarah. Athan made a mistake . A mistake he couldn’t control. I’d say that’s a lot different than what Stratford put you through.”

Sarah sighed. “He killed me. He killed me and left me to rot in an alley. That part, at least, he chose to do. How does anybody expect me to just forget about that?”

“You won’t, Sarah. You forgive him. He’s a good person, and I don’t have to tell you that. You already know that he is. What happened doesn’t define him anymore than the way we look, and dress defines us. You know that better than anybody. You still cared about Brent after every rotten thing they wrote about you in the tabloids. Athan loves you. You love him right back. Only a damn fool wouldn’t see it.” They stared at each other for a silent moment and Sarah’s mouth tightened in agreement before they returned their attention back to Athan, who seemingly grew irritated with the dull ax and had tossed it aside to use his inhuman strength to rip the logs apart with his bare hands. “Mother Mary … I can’t watch this anymore.” Wren drove a fist into Sarah’s shoulder, and she grunted, making an open-mouthed face that was drawn up with pain. “Dumbass.”

Sarah snapped her teeth at her as they turned away, and Wren dodged her swinging arm as she darted ahead and rounded the other side of the house.

It was seldom that Athan had ever felt tired from any physical labor. In all honesty, he wasn’t physically tired at all. He’d finished the last log and stacked the firewood into a rusty wheelbarrow around the back of the small shed by the woods. It did seem colder, but he welcomed it as he stretched out in the grass and folded his arms behind his head, relishing in the feel of the afternoon sunlight that broke incandescently through the colors of late fall. As relaxing as closing his eyes would be, he couldn’t stop looking through the painted canopy of trees at the small bits of blue sky that shone behind them. He was one fortunate sod. Even through his selfish wants, he was so incredibly lucky.

Athan couldn’t help but be reminded of all the similar colors of Sarah’s eyes as the quiet of nature and oncoming winter shifted above him. She was just as beautiful as the impossibility of what he was able to currently enjoy. He wondered if it was, in part, because of her fragility of being human. How precious her short years were, and how badly he wished to protect them. If she did choose to be with him, would she ask him for this life? To spend an eternity living, even after the new wore off and immortality became what it was to him? He had a gut feeling that if they were to be together, she’d argue when she began to age. When her mortal body started looking older than his. He’d probably not get an inch when he tried explaining he’d never love her any less when she was eighty. That he’d dote on, and comfort her, and make sure she lived the fullest life. She’d want for nothing. Ever.

He didn’t know how long he laid there. At some point he must have closed his eyes, because they fluttered open when he felt a nudge against his shoulder, and the sun had hidden itself, leaving him in a shade that was as familiar a cold as the night used to be. Bleak and bitter, and empty as hell. Every one of those feelings dissolved when Sarah stood over him, watching and smiling softly as her hair blew around her.

“Sorry to wake you.” She smiled, clutching her arms around herself as the wind bit into her. Her eyes shifted momentarily to the tattoo on his breast. “Rhaena said you wouldn’t get any dinner until you washed the stink off you.”

Athan turned his face to sniff beneath his arm. “She’s full of shit. I smell like a god.”

Sarah’s soft laugh made it impossible for him not to smile up at her. Their eyes met and lingered a bit too long. She swallowed hard. “Sorry Platelet Pete, but I gotta side with Rhaena on this one.” She grinned, scrunching her nose when she did, and driving him absolutely mad with the need to touch her. Athan sat up and lowered his brows.

“Platelet Pete?” he drawled. She cackled and turned away, tucking her hands under her arms as the wind picked up and she started back toward the cabin. “I don’t like that one!” he snapped, raising himself off the ground.

“You can thank Wren!” she called back as she went up the steps and smiled at him before shutting the back door. He was gonna string that redhead up by her feet.

As he went inside and made his way through the kitchen, he caught Wren’s glance and gestured with two fingers, pointing first at his eyes, and then at her. She had a potato chip halfway in her mouth as she sat cross-legged on the couch and furrowed her brows.

“What?” She shrugged, her eyes following him to the bedroom.

“You’re an asshole,” Athan declared. Sarah snickered from beside her as she stole chips from Wren’s bag. He shut the door, not missing her thoroughly confused reaction, and undressed to get a shower. Denver was curled up on Rhaena’s bed, and after deciding he was in no mood to argue with a cat, he let him stay there as he shut himself in the small bathroom.

The water pressure at the cabin was shit, but the water itself was blessedly hot and as he leaned into it, Athan loosed a satisfied groan. The porcelain tub was small and stood alone in the tiny wood-paneled bathroom. It didn’t stop him from wishing Sarah was in it, with nowhere to stand but against him. He couldn’t deny that ever since the bond between them snapped tight, he seemed ten times as starved for her. He wondered if she could feel it. He could feel her, for certain.

Dinner was comfortable, and the soup was surprisingly good. They all exchanged the usual playful banter, and several times Athan caught Sarah staring at him. One of those times, she didn’t balk from it, or pretend she wasn’t looking, and he held that stare while Wren and Rhaena bickered over something stupid. The longer he did, the more their voices faded around him and when he had Sarah’s full attention, he tried something.

You’re driving me mad.

Sarah’s eyes widened and right then, Athan realized she heard him. His mouth curled up in the corner.

What kind of fuckery is this? Can you hear me, too?

He gave her the faintest nod and her fingers rested on her mouth. The two hens continued talking while they carried on in silent conversation.

I wasn’t sure it would work, but I can’t say I’m upset about it .

Her face crumpled in confusion.

How can I do this if I’m human?

Athan shrugged slightly as he leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed one foot over the other.

Don’t know. This is new to me, too.

He broke his gaze from her eyes and swept them over her exposed arms and her skin-tight tank top. Sarah shifted around, repositioning herself on the couch.

Is this you, giving me space? Pervert.

He chuckled through his nose and crossed his arms, locking eyes with her again.

You never told me I couldn’t look. Besides, I’ve caught you several times this evening doing the same thing. Not to mention … you and Red aren’t as stealthy as you think.

Sarah’s cheeks flushed, and so did her inked chest.

That was her fault. I’m sorry.

He twitched his mouth and shrugged again.

Don’t be. I’ll try to keep my eyes to myself.

He could almost hear her swallow from across the cabin.

I don’t want you to.

His heart thudded and before he could think of how to respond, Rhaena snapped her fingers in his face.

“Hey!” she bit, leaning in and breaking their concentration. “Did you hear me?”

He looked at her, confused. “No?”

Rhaena rolled her eyes and pointed out the kitchen window. “Did you bring in the logs you cut today? We need them.”

“I didn’t,” Athan responded under his breath, turning to peer out of the glass. The wind was howling, and the clashing of narrow pines sounded beyond it. He gathered her urgency as his cue to go outside and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair.

The wind cut through him like a knife when he crossed the backyard. He could smell ice on it, and cursed when he’d realized that Rhaena was right earlier today. Without their phones, and shit for TV channels, they didn’t have much of a way to check the status of oncoming weather. Athan wheeled the firewood to the front of the cabin and picked the entire wheelbarrow up with one arm, lugging it onto the covered porch. If it snowed tonight, they wouldn’t have to go far to get more. He took two armfuls into the house.

“Well, you called it.” Rhaena fanned herself against the wall by the kitchen doorway when he glared at her. “It’s fucking freezing.” Athan made his way over to the small fireplace and started stacking the wood up in the copper bin next to the hearth.

“Will it be too cold in here for you tonight?” Sarah asked from behind him as he added a couple logs to the fire.

“I’m kind of dead, love. I don’t think it gets much colder than that.” He smirked over his shoulder. “I’m kidding. Truthfully, I’ll probably fare better than you three in that bedroom. We could all camp out in here tonight.”

“I’m not,” Rhaena scoffed, heading toward her bedroom. “I need the chill.”

“Warm bodies. I’m bunking with her,” Wren added, standing up from the couch. “What about you? ” She smirked and narrowed her eyes at Sarah who remained glued to her spot.

Sarah glanced over at him. “I—I dunno.”

“I can take the floor,” he offered. “If you’ll be okay parting with a couple of the back cushions.”

She thought about it for a moment and looked back over to Rhaena and Wren. They both gave her looks that were obviously meant to coax her into staying in the living room, for reasons that nobody needed help deciphering. She returned her face to him and nodded. “Alright. I’m gonna go change. Just take whatever you need from the couch.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he cut Rhaena a glare, and wished he could cuss her out with his mind. Her responding expression told him that it wasn’t necessary, and she raised her brows in triumph as she turned into the bedroom. Wren did the same and followed behind her while Sarah went last, closing the door softly behind her.

Athan made quick work of setting up a spot on the floor near the fireplace. He opted to lay himself along the width of the hearth and came out of his jacket and t-shirt, leaving only his usual black sweats. He fished out a couple of extra blankets from under the hutch where Poe was surprisingly not making any racket and laid one on the couch to replace the one he’d taken for the pallet. He had just laid himself back against a stack of cushions and pulled the blanket halfway up his body when Sarah emerged from the bedroom.

God help him.

She padded across the floor in nothing but an oversized black band t-shirt with long sleeves that she’d cut thumb holes into. As simple as it was, she might as well have been wearing the vampire outfit that he’d seen her in on Halloween. If she was wearing anything under it, he couldn’t tell. He swallowed and did his best to tear his eyes away from her and look at anything fucking else but those slender bare legs. He decided the ceiling looked the most interesting. She pulled her long hair to one shoulder and slid underneath her blanket on the couch before laying on her side and facing him while she tucked an arm under one of the pillows.

“Are you comfortable?” she asked, situating herself and peering over at him.

“Yeah,” he replied, turning his face to look at her. “Will that blanket be enough?”

“Mmhmm.” She nodded with her cheek pressed against the pillow. They stared at each other in silence for several minutes.

Goodnight, Sarah.

She curled her hand beneath her chin and smirked at him.

Goodnight .

Athan turned his back to her and tried to get comfortable as he gazed into the flames. For whatever reason, he felt like this would be a long-ass night.