Fade To Midnight (57 page)

She pressed her forehead against his. “Yes, and no,” she whispered. “At first, I was just out of it. Everything hurt. I didn't even want to come back. And when I did…” Her voice petered out.

“What?” he prompted gently. “Please. Tell me.”

“Ava,” she blurted. “I felt guilty. I felt bad for her.”

He didn't reply, just stroked her face and waited.

“I resisted the crown by opening up my inside eye,” she told him. “The thing that happens when I draw? It created a blind spot. She couldn't move me. But to do it, I had to…to fuse with her.”

Comprehension lit his face. “Oh, God. That had to be bad.”

“Very bad.” Her voice wobbled. “I poisoned myself. Because I got her, you know? Her pain, her sickness. I
was
her, for a little while. Long enough. And I can't seem to…oh, shit. I can't even explain it.”

He hugged her tighter. “I felt her too, when she crowned me.”

“I couldn't hate her,” Edie whispered. “Not after I knew how she felt. What she'd suffered. It was just…too close to home. It broke me. I just don't know if I can be fixed. So I stayed away. From everyone.”

He stroked her hair. “I'm not everyone, Edie. I'm me. I'm Kev. Remember me? I can handle it. I'm not scared of this. Not if I have you.”

She threw her head back, blinking away defiant tears. “You think? I'm a mess, Kev. I cry all the time. I wake up screaming any time I get to sleep. I get stress flashbacks every day. And the psychic thing. Remember how that eye only opened when I drew? Now it never closes.”

He blinked, impressed. “Wow. That must be interesting.”

“To say the least,” she muttered.

He waited for a few moments. “And? Is that all?” he prompted.

She laughed, startled. “What, isn't that enough for you?”

“No,” he said. “Not enough to justify running away from me.”

Edie pressed her face against his jacket. Still strangled by that noose that had held her back from reaching out to him. The fear, the shame, the hopeless exhaustion. All her boundaries, smashed to trash.

“It's like I have no skin,” she explained, haltingly. “I'm blasted by info all the time. I have to stay alone until I learn how to block it, and who knows if I ever will. Maybe it was the crown, maybe the head injury. I've been hiding out. Hoping it'll get better. But it hasn't yet.”

“And? So? Can't I help? Can't I be with you while you learn?”

She shrugged. “You've seen the disadvantages of having a psychic girlfriend. You wanted space, right? You won't get it hanging out with me.”

His eyes blazed with outrage. “You can't throw that in my face!”

“I'm not throwing,” she replied. “I'm just quoting.”

“Yeah, out of fucking context! I was trying to get you away from me! Trying to keep you safe! That space was meant to save your life!”

Edie pulled him closer again, dragging his resistant body toward hers. “Thank you for trying so hard,” she whispered. “Don't be mad.”

“Go ahead,” he said hotly. “Examine every unworthy thought, every impure impulse! I don't give a fuck. Hell, my impure impulses are all about you, anyhow. All you'll see if you look inside me is how much I love you. How shit scared I am of losing you. That's the content of my waking consciousness. So if you can stand it, please. Have mercy.”

“Oh, Kev,” she whispered, brokenly.

She dragged him nearer. He groaned and gave in, his arms closing around her. “I was wondering why you seemed even more beautiful than I remembered,” he mumbled into her hair. “It must be the psychic thing. You're like a flood-light now. You blind me.”

She shook with soggy giggles. “Aw. That's so romantic. Have you been taking lessons from Bruno?”

He snorted his disgust. “That superficial, manipulative punk? Hell, no. How can you say that? These are the truths of my heart.”

They swayed together, their bodies shaking with unbelieving joy.

“So, your brother Sean,” she said, finally. “He ran away from his girlfriend? How did it play out?”

Kev lifted his head, and gazed into her face. “He came to his senses,” he said. “He decided to trust himself, and her, too. He threw himself at her feet. Begged her forgiveness. She finally gave in.”

She hid a smile. “Ah. I see. Is that what you want from me?”

“I want everything from you,” he said, forcefully. “I want it all. Nothing held back. The good and the bad. Now, forever, always.”

She wound her arms around his neck even tighter.

He nuzzled her neck. “They just had their first kid, four days ago,” he said. “Eamon Seth McCloud. Named after our father.”

She lifted her head. “Really? Oh, wow, that's great,” she said warmly. “Congratulations, Uncle Kev! It all went well?”

“Yeah, it went great. They were worried, because they thought he was early, but he came out at almost nine pounds. Big bruiser. Sean's nuts about him. Zia Rosa's up there with them. Feeding them hand-rolled pasta and beef broth. To make milk.”

“Really? Zia Rosa, up there? With your brother? Wow!”

“Yeah, she's adopted my brothers and their wives and kids. They're good sports about it. The awesome food helps. Finally she's a grandma. Nonna Rosa. She's in hog heaven. It's good that she has something else to think about right now. It really helps her.”

The memory crashed back, and guilt, for being so self-centered. “Kev. I'm so sorry about Tony. I'm sorry I wasn't there for the funeral.”

He leaned his head on her shoulder, hiding his face. “It's OK,” he murmured. “You weren't even conscious.”

“I wish I could have been there for you. Holding your hand.”

“We got through it,” he said. “And you can hold my hand now. Just don't ever let go of it.”

“Never,” she said.

They came together, fusing into a single being. A blaze of perfect happiness. She blinked back tears, and saw Aunt Evelyn, Tanya, and Ronnie standing up there on the deck, watching them. Ronnie was crying. Tanya looked oddly wistful. Aunt Evelyn just looked worried.

She made her way down the stairs and the wooden walkway.

“Excuse me for interrupting,” she said stiffly. “But it's time Edith came in out of this terrible wind. She's delicate, you know.”

Kev turned and nodded politely. “Hello, Mrs. Morris.”

“Hello, Mr., er…should I call you Larsen? Or McCloud?”

A slow smile started over his face. “How about you call me Kev?”

Aunt Evelyn turned a dull red. “Hmmph. Should I let the staff know there'll be another for dinner?”

Kev wound his arm around Edie's waist. “Let's go out,” he whispered into her ear. “I want you all to myself.”

Out? Wow. She hadn't gone out in weeks. But with Kev at her side, she might be able to face it. It might even be, well. Fun.

Giggles started welling up, like bubbles, wonderful and effervescent. “We're going out,” Edie announced.

Aunt Evelyn spun around, horrified. “Out? Out where?”

Edie shrugged. “I don't know. The steakhouse on Highway 16, maybe, or the pizza parlor. Or the drive-in. Big Jim's has good burgers.”

“Are you crazy?” her aunt squeaked. “You're ill, Edie! You're injured! Emotionally fragile! You need constant care!'

Crazy. Yeah, maybe. But she didn't care. Not if she had Kev. She was a ship in full sail. She could go anywhere, do anything. No limits.

“Don't expect her back early,” Kev added.

“Ah, actually, don't expect me back at all,” Edie amended. “We'll probably get a room at the motel on the highway.”

Aunt Evelyn threw up her hands and stomped away. Ronnie chortled behind her hand, but her eyes were wet.

“What do you say we go discuss our honeymoon itinerary?” Kev said into her ear. “The Galapagos Islands have always looked really interesting. Or the ruins of the Incan Empire.”

She giggled harder. “I'm game. But what about the reindeer in Lapland? And the goats in Crete, and the emus in Australia?”

“Fine with me,” he said promptly. “We'll put them on the list. And Paris, Rome, Venice, Athens? Prague? New Delhi? Katmandu? Kyoto?”

“All of them,” she said rashly. “Let's go everywhere.”

“Oh, God, yeah.”

They grabbed each other, forgetting anyone was watching. Not caring. Kissing each other until neither could tell whose tears were whose. Just that the kisses were salt-sweet and delicious and perfect.

And that the love would be forever.

If you enjoyed
Fade to Midnight,
you won't want to miss Shannon McKenna's next thrilling romantic suspense novel featuring Bruno Ranieri and the McCloud Brothers. Read on for a special preview!

 

A Brava hardcover on sale in October 2011.

Portland, Oregon

I
have many important things to do. You are not one of them.

The non-verbal message vibing off the hard-ass brunette's haughtily turned back was impossible for Bruno to misinterpret. But perverse, self-flagellating idiot that he was, it went straight to his dick.

She'd walked into Tony's Diner at 3:45
A.M
., and he'd swear to God, he'd felt her coming before she even turned the corner and moved into the light under the awning outside. He was primed for her, after the last two nights of torture and titillation. Begging Fate to bring her back.

Fate had been kind. After hours of waiting, finally the follicles on his body tightened, lifting hairs on end in a breezy, ticklish rush of animal awareness. The bells over the doors jingled. And there she was.

His hair follicles weren't all that lifted and tightened. Good thing he wore an apron over his jeans. When the chick with the black pageboy sashayed into Tony's Diner, no matter how blitzed from lack of sleep he was, his glands promptly pumped a substance into his body that made him want to break into an old-time dance number. An incredible rush. A tingling sense of infinite possibility, combined with a mega-boner. A huge, awestruck “wow” from the depths of his being.

She'd chosen a table today, rather than the counter. Each seating option offered different viewpoints, with varying advantages and disadvantages. He hadn't yet settled on his favorite. The back view was nice for legs, ass, the graceful nipped-in curve of her back, the nape of her slender, soft-looking neck, and he could get a lot of easy, blatant ogling in while hustling around behind her back. When she took a table he got more frontal scoping action, but had to resort to old tricks from adolescence, developed before he'd discovered the ease and simplicity of mirrored sunglasses. Take it in, in one sweeping glance, and then pore over the gathered data in the privacy of his own dirty mind. He could never gulp enough of this girl in a single glance, though. He wanted to sit down across from her. Fix her with an unblinking, predatory stare.

Not that she'd notice, of course. She probably wouldn't even look up. Her powers of concentration were world-class.

He kept trying to pin down what it was about her that got to him. It was a thorny problem, requiring detailed, up-close research and analysis, he decided, preferably conducted in bed. Maybe the sharp, up-tilted angles of cheekbone and eyebrows, maybe the big, mysterious greenish-gold eyes, set at an exotic, catlike slant, accentuated with bold eyeliner and long, curling lashes, heavy with mascara. She wore bizarre red cat-eye glasses with fake gems in the corners that should've made her look grotesque, but they didn't. They looked quirky, sassy, bold, playful. They threw her startling beauty into sharp relief. She could wear anything and look great. Anything or nothing. Nothing would be fine, too. She needed no tricks. But she could pull off any she wanted.

And that mouth. She'd painted it a bright scarlet that was supposed to make her look super tuff, but it didn't work worth a damn. He wondered if she knew that. It didn't seem deliberate. The lush fullness of the upper lip made her look secretly vulnerable, almost childlike. And the severe, shiny jet black hair was all wrong for her skin.

Which was glowing, luminously pale.

The look was Salvation Army sexpot. Shabby black stretch lace shirt, designed to showcase an enticing nipple hard-on. Frayed denim miniskirt, just a little too tight for a luscious ass. Tiny bulge of sweet, snowy pale muffin top coming out the low-slung waistband where her shirt rode up. Made him want to grab and squeeze and stroke. Scuffed, shiny red fuck-me peep-toes with three-inch heels. Shapely rounded legs, clad in black stockings with so many rips and runs, it had to be on purpose, but who knew? He was usually good at decoding what girls were saying with their clothes, but he couldn't read this chick. She dressed like she wanted attention, and yet she stared into that netbook like her life depended on it, black-tipped finger-tapping in a ceaseless, buzzing blur of sound. A bluish glow illuminated her face. Eyes frozen wide. A million miles away. Denying Bruno's very existence upon this earth by the massive force of her indifference. Even while ordering food.

She was a bad tipper, too. But the low-cut shirt and nipple hard-on made up for that sin most abundantly.

There was that other quality, too. The one he barely knew how to articulate to himself. An intangible glow that hung around her, a sparkling cloud you could only see if you weren't looking at it. He knew it existed because he'd grown sensitive to it hanging out with his adopted brother, Kev. Who, mellow and gentle as he was, always carried a disquieting aura of danger about him. A sense of things about to happen. Good things, bad things. Big things.