Shadowfever
Page 54
If anyone is going to kill her, hed said moments ago, its me.
God, how Id grieved him!
He speaks of killing me so casually. Still not trusting me. Never trusting me. Those dark currents gurgle, begin to gush. I am furious. With him. He deserves a dose of grief himself. I wet my lips. As a matter of fact there is.
He inclines his head imperiously, waiting.
And only you can give it to me, I purr, arching my back.
His gaze drops to my breasts. Im listening.
Its long overdue. I havent been able to think about anything else. It nearly drove me crazy today, waiting for you to get here so I could ask for it.
He stands up and rakes me with a scathing look.
Sloppy seconds, his eyes say.
You had it first, I counter silently. I think that means he got the leftovers.
I push away from the door, circle the desk, trailing my fingertips lightly over his Silver as I pass it. He watches my hand and I know hes remembering how I once touched him.
I stop a few inches from him. Im humming with energy. He is, too. I can feel it.
Ive become obsessed with getting it, and if you say no, Ill just have to take it.
He inhales sharply. You think you can? Challenge stirs in his dark gaze.
I have a sudden vision of the two of us having an all-out fight from end to end of the bookstore, culminating in fierce, no-holds-barred sex, and my mouth goes so dry I cant swallow for a moment.
It might take me a while to get my hands on exactly what I want, but I have no doubt I could.
His eyes say: Bring it on. But youve got a lot to pay for.
He hates me for teaming up with Darroc. He believes we were lovers.
And hed have sex with me in a heartbeat. Against his better judgment, with no tenderness at all, but hed do it. I dont get men. If I thought hed betrayed me with say, Fiona, a day after hed helped kill me, Id make him suffer for a good long time before I slept with him again.
He believes that I had sex with my sisters lover the day after I stabbed him, that I forgot all about him and moved on. Men are wired different. I think for them, its about stamping out all trace, all memory, of their competitor as quickly and completely as possible. And they feel that the only way they can do it is with their body, their sweat, their semen. As if they can re-mark us. I think sex is so intense for them, they can be so easily ruled by it, that they think we can, too.
I look up at him, into those dark, bottomless eyes. Can you dieever?
For a long moment he doesnt speak. Then he moves his head once, in silent negation.
As in: never? No matter what happens to you?
Iget that silent slice to the left and back to the middle again.
The bastard. Now I understand the anger Ive been feeling beneath the elation. Some part of my brain had already put this together:
Hed let me grieve.
He never told me he was a beast that couldnt be killed. He could have spared me all the pain Id endured with one tiny little truth, one small confession, and Id never have felt so violent and dark and broken. If hed only just said: Ms. Lane, I cant be killed. So if you ever see me die, dont sweat it. Ill be back.
Id lost myself. Because of him. Because of his idiotic need to keep everything about himself secret. There was no excuse for it.
But even worse was this: Id thought hed given his life to save me, when all hed really done was the equivalent of take a little nap. What did dying for someone mean when you knew you couldnt die? Not a damn thing. An inconvenience. IYD hadnt been a big deal after all.
Id wept, Id mourned. Id built a massive and utterly undeserved Monument to Barrons, The Man Whod Died So I Could Live, in my head. Id thought hed made the ultimate sacrifice for me, and it had milked my emotions brutally. Id let it consume me, take me over, turn me into someone I couldnt believe Id been capable of becoming.
And hed never been willing to die so I could live. It had been business as usualBarrons keeping his OOP detector alive and functioning, coolly impersonal, focused on his goals. So what if he was the one who would never let me die? It didnt cost him anything. He wanted the Book. I was the way to get it. He had nothing to lose. I finally understood why he was always so fearless.
Id thought hed cared about me so much hed been willing to give up his life. Id romanticized it and gotten swept away in a misguided fantasy. And if hed stayed here last night, Id have made a complete fool of myself. Id have confessed feelings to him that Id felt only because Id thought hed given his life for mine.
Nothing had changed.
There was no deeper level of understanding or emotion between us.
He was Jericho Barrons, OOP director, pissed off at me because he thought Id taken up with the enemy, irked that hed had to endure an inconvenient death, but still not telling me a thing, using me to achieve his mysterious ends.
He bristles with impatience. I feel the lust rolling off him, the violence beneath it.
You said you wanted something. What is it, Ms. Lane?
I smile coolly. The deed to my bookstore, Barrons. What else?
The Dani Daily
106 Days AWC
DING-DONG THE DICK IS DEAD!
God, how Id grieved him!
He speaks of killing me so casually. Still not trusting me. Never trusting me. Those dark currents gurgle, begin to gush. I am furious. With him. He deserves a dose of grief himself. I wet my lips. As a matter of fact there is.
He inclines his head imperiously, waiting.
And only you can give it to me, I purr, arching my back.
His gaze drops to my breasts. Im listening.
Its long overdue. I havent been able to think about anything else. It nearly drove me crazy today, waiting for you to get here so I could ask for it.
He stands up and rakes me with a scathing look.
Sloppy seconds, his eyes say.
You had it first, I counter silently. I think that means he got the leftovers.
I push away from the door, circle the desk, trailing my fingertips lightly over his Silver as I pass it. He watches my hand and I know hes remembering how I once touched him.
I stop a few inches from him. Im humming with energy. He is, too. I can feel it.
Ive become obsessed with getting it, and if you say no, Ill just have to take it.
He inhales sharply. You think you can? Challenge stirs in his dark gaze.
I have a sudden vision of the two of us having an all-out fight from end to end of the bookstore, culminating in fierce, no-holds-barred sex, and my mouth goes so dry I cant swallow for a moment.
It might take me a while to get my hands on exactly what I want, but I have no doubt I could.
His eyes say: Bring it on. But youve got a lot to pay for.
He hates me for teaming up with Darroc. He believes we were lovers.
And hed have sex with me in a heartbeat. Against his better judgment, with no tenderness at all, but hed do it. I dont get men. If I thought hed betrayed me with say, Fiona, a day after hed helped kill me, Id make him suffer for a good long time before I slept with him again.
He believes that I had sex with my sisters lover the day after I stabbed him, that I forgot all about him and moved on. Men are wired different. I think for them, its about stamping out all trace, all memory, of their competitor as quickly and completely as possible. And they feel that the only way they can do it is with their body, their sweat, their semen. As if they can re-mark us. I think sex is so intense for them, they can be so easily ruled by it, that they think we can, too.
I look up at him, into those dark, bottomless eyes. Can you dieever?
For a long moment he doesnt speak. Then he moves his head once, in silent negation.
As in: never? No matter what happens to you?
Iget that silent slice to the left and back to the middle again.
The bastard. Now I understand the anger Ive been feeling beneath the elation. Some part of my brain had already put this together:
Hed let me grieve.
He never told me he was a beast that couldnt be killed. He could have spared me all the pain Id endured with one tiny little truth, one small confession, and Id never have felt so violent and dark and broken. If hed only just said: Ms. Lane, I cant be killed. So if you ever see me die, dont sweat it. Ill be back.
Id lost myself. Because of him. Because of his idiotic need to keep everything about himself secret. There was no excuse for it.
But even worse was this: Id thought hed given his life to save me, when all hed really done was the equivalent of take a little nap. What did dying for someone mean when you knew you couldnt die? Not a damn thing. An inconvenience. IYD hadnt been a big deal after all.
Id wept, Id mourned. Id built a massive and utterly undeserved Monument to Barrons, The Man Whod Died So I Could Live, in my head. Id thought hed made the ultimate sacrifice for me, and it had milked my emotions brutally. Id let it consume me, take me over, turn me into someone I couldnt believe Id been capable of becoming.
And hed never been willing to die so I could live. It had been business as usualBarrons keeping his OOP detector alive and functioning, coolly impersonal, focused on his goals. So what if he was the one who would never let me die? It didnt cost him anything. He wanted the Book. I was the way to get it. He had nothing to lose. I finally understood why he was always so fearless.
Id thought hed cared about me so much hed been willing to give up his life. Id romanticized it and gotten swept away in a misguided fantasy. And if hed stayed here last night, Id have made a complete fool of myself. Id have confessed feelings to him that Id felt only because Id thought hed given his life for mine.
Nothing had changed.
There was no deeper level of understanding or emotion between us.
He was Jericho Barrons, OOP director, pissed off at me because he thought Id taken up with the enemy, irked that hed had to endure an inconvenient death, but still not telling me a thing, using me to achieve his mysterious ends.
He bristles with impatience. I feel the lust rolling off him, the violence beneath it.
You said you wanted something. What is it, Ms. Lane?
I smile coolly. The deed to my bookstore, Barrons. What else?
The Dani Daily
106 Days AWC
DING-DONG THE DICK IS DEAD!
