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Gathering of Angels(51)

By:Cate Dean


Laughter rumbled against her ear. “My—what did you call it once? Ah, hocus pocus. It never did work on you, and that is a first for me. I have always been able to work my way in. But you,” he cupped her chin and tilted it up until their eyes met. “You flicked me away like an annoying insect, every time.” She swallowed when he kissed his way down her face, whispering against her lips. “It is how I know what I feel for you is real, and not the flashback from my own manipulation.”

He kissed her, with such tenderness her throat ached. She pulled back and laid her head on his chest to keep him from seeing the tears that filled her eyes. Instead of confronting, or asking, he simply rubbed the length of her back, until she relaxed under the smooth, gentle strokes.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“I am sorry, sweet. I didn’t intend for my words to—”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” She lifted her head. “All of—this, caught me off guard. And knowing that you’ll be leaving—”

“I cannot stay.”

“And I understand. I do, Marcus; when I was trapped in that jail cell, hurting, all I could think about was getting home. It kept me from giving up.”

His fingers brushed her cheek, then curved over her shoulder and trailed down her arm, touching the bandage on her wrist. “How is it?”

“Healing. Slowly.” Along with her power, she lost her ability to mend quickly. In addition, every injury she earned in the last eighty years decided to remind her of its existence. Loudly. “And your arm?”

“Still there.” She knew he used it during their lovemaking. He gasped every time he moved it—until she laid her hand on his wrist and eased it to the bed. “Still useless.”

“True, for now. But you still have one very talented arm.” He laughed, just as she intended. “So, do we have time?”

He raised one eyebrow. “For?”

Pushing herself up, she brushed his lips with her own. “Another exploration of my magic.”





SEVENTEEN



Annie opened the door to her new apartment and gathered Claire into her arms.

“How are you doing, honey?”

Claire let out a shaky breath, finally able to drop her cheerful mask. “He’s gone. And there’s a damn fine chance I will never see him again.”

Annie rubbed her back, then guided her inside. Eric stood and held out his hand. That simple gesture undid her.

“Oh, Claire.” Annie lowered her to the sofa, let her cry herself out. When she pulled away, mortified by her outburst, Annie caught her around the waist. “No, you don’t. You’re completely human now—time to embrace all of it, even the sticky, embarrassing emotion.”

Claire let out a watery laugh. “Leave it to you, Annie. And that won’t be a problem. I can’t seem to control it like I used to. Not since I came back.”

“Don’t make it sound like a death sentence.” Annie squeezed her waist. “There’s nothing like a good cry to clear out the negative. Then you get ice cream.”

Claire dropped her head to Annie’s shoulder. “I really love you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Eric leaned in and kissed Claire on the cheek. “I’ll go get that ice cream.”

Sighing, Annie watched him walk out of the living room. “I do love that man.”

“Speaking of love,” Claire wiped her eyes, held out her hand. “Let’s see that ring.” The sapphire glowed against Annie’s finger, a physical reflection of her joy. “This is powerful protection—and it seems to have chosen you. I may no longer have power, but I can still teach, if you—”

“I don’t want any other teacher. And I have a question—I’ll understand if you say no, considering.” She took in a deep breath. “Will you be my maid of honor?”

Claire sandwiched her hand, the blue glow of the sapphire spearing through her fingers. Here was what she fought for, what she gladly gave up her life to protect. “I can’t think of anything I would enjoy more.”

With a squeal, Annie hugged her. “I want you to help me decide everything. Unless—if this all gets too uncomfortable, I want you to let me know.”

“Because of Marcus?”

“Well, yeah.”

Claire pushed her hair back, still surprised when her fingers met air near her shoulder. “My life does not end because he left—”

“Do you love him?”

Claire blinked. “I—that has nothing—”

“Easy question.”

She let go of Annie’s hand, rubbed her face. “And easy answer. Yes. As hard as I tried not to, I let him get under my skin.”