Immortals After Dark 03 - No Rest for the Wicked
to live forever? She had !
Before last night, she couldn’t bestir herself truly to dread her upcoming death. Now, she wondered if it would be painful, and if Sebastian would be near.
She’d called Nïx on her jimmied non-traceable phone to get a premonition-of-doom update. She had imagined what she would say: “Hey, Nïxie! Uh, I remember you telling me that I, uh, was going to die and all that.” Nervous laugh. “Well, did you see anything about a remarkably virile and sexy vampire coming with me for moral support?” But it had been late at night in New Orleans, and Nïx had most likely been out roaming the streets. Without answers, Kaderin could only speculate.
There were only so many ways a Valkyrie could die—beheading, sorrow, immolation, or some kind of mystical assassination. Beheading seemed likeliest.
A violent death. Kaderin had contemplated cheerier scenarios...
As she smelled the cherry blossoms, she thought of the violence she had meted out over her long life, culminating in the minefield carnage last night. She recalled Bowen yearning for his lost mate, half of his head blown off and still crawling for the box. She thought Cindey had mumbled something about a baby.
Kaderin’s eyes watered, and she stumbled into someone on the street. When she glanced up again, there right before her was a butcher shop.
She bit her bottom lip, recalling Sebastian’s pale face. Did she dare take him blood? She looked around guiltily, as if others could hear her thoughts.
This was a step she’d never even contemplated. She wasn’t merely not going to kill the vampire, nor was she simply allowing him to live. She was considering making a vampire more comfortable after the cataclysmic sex they’d just had. She gave an amazed chuckle. How far the mighty have fallen.
Kaderin found herself entering the shop, swept up in the foreign smell of meat. She asked for her order, and without a raised brow—this was London, after all—she received a plastic container in a brown paper bag. She fished for sterling and pence from her jacket pocket, then hurried from the shop with her purchase.
Here she was late for the airport, and all she could think about was that she’d left him hungry. This was so... so domestic, and it was utterly exciting for her. As it had been with him on the plane that morning while they were dressing. Just before he told me he was going to marry me.
Back at the flat, she noticed she kind of liked seeing his things with hers. Gone was the irritation at the fact that he’d simply moved in with her. Now she suddenly wanted their belongings to be together. She wanted their things intermingled .
She stowed the blood in the refrigerator and was immediately glad she’d brought it, because, though he seemed to have moved in, he had none on tap.
After making her way to the bedroom, she crossed to the bed. She brushed his hair from his forehead and pulled the cover over him. Tenderness. I like this feeling. Quickly becoming one of my favorites. Before she left the room again, she secured a blanket over the drapes as an additional safeguard against the sun.
Take away the fact that he was a vampire. Could she ever have a life with him? She overlooked Emma’s vampirism and loved her.
But it didn’t matter if Kaderin could accept him. Her sisters wouldn’t be able to—even if she somehow would meet Sebastian in the changed reality, which she knew was impossible, even if she lived.
If she lived, she’d have saved Dasha and Rika. Saving their lives would change history...
She’d thought about carrying a letter back for herself when she retrieved her sisters. But she knew how these conundrums typically worked. If she wrote a letter, telling herself to go to the Russian castle and fall for a sad-eyed, achingly gorgeous vampire, her past self wouldn’t even recognize her changed handwriting. She’d think it was a trick by vampires, and she’d go there to kill him. Or someone in her coven would find the letter and go with the same intent.
And yet, even knowing how unattainable a future was with him, before she left once more, she jotted a quick note for him.
And mentally tallied one for herself: Idiot, sucker, fool. Mysty the Vampire Layer? She’s got nothing on me.
She wasn’t in the bed with him when he awoke that afternoon.
Sebastian sat up, wanting to find her, but instantly fell back, arms and legs deadened with fatigue and splayed across the bed.
Staring at the ceiling, he
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