Warrior's Heart: Iron Portal Series (Paranormal Romance) (7 page)

BOOK: Warrior's Heart: Iron Portal Series (Paranormal Romance)
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Chapter Seven

Z
ara put
a five-pound bag of cake flour into her shopping basket and wished she’d grabbed a grocery cart instead. She’d only planned to be here for a few minutes, but this thing was getting heavy.

It had been two days since Vince’s escape. Because the road checkpoints were still in place, they couldn’t risk driving to her house yet, so they were still holed up in that tiny apartment at Reckless. Plenty of time to get reacquainted with each other and to talk about everything…except that Vince had been distant, moody and had hardly said two words to her.

For the second morning in a row, she’d woken up to find him gone. Rather than waiting around like she had yesterday, she remembered that the break room had a small but decent oven, so she decided to make cupcakes. Maybe that would help bring him around.

Vince had always loved anything she baked. Bread, muffins, cookies, cakes. Just like their son.

She could almost see the excited look on Darius’s face if she were home
. “Mom, you’re making cupcakes again? This is another best day of my life.”

She reached for a small bottle of vanilla extract from the top shelf and thought about how much she missed her little man. She’d spoken to him briefly this morning before school and promised to call when he got home. Although it was more for her sake than his, because it sounded like he was having fun with Asher and Olivia and that sweet but odd-looking dog of theirs.

She surveyed the contents of her shopping basket. Did she really need to color the frosting? No. Darius always wanted it colored, so that was the way she always made it, but having colored frosting probably didn’t matter to Vince or anyone else at Reckless. They didn’t need sprinkles either, but
she
liked them.

Grabbing the small box of food coloring from the bottom of her basket, she spun around to return it to the shelf, and literally ran into the woman behind her.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—” Wait. She knew her. “Mariah! What are you doing here?”

“Trying not to get run over by a crazy woman on a baking mission.” Her friend’s smooth black hair glistened under the artificial lights. She wore tight black pants, clunky combat boots and a man’s suit jacket rolled up at the sleeves.

“Did you look for me at the library?” Zara asked. “I wish there was a way to get ahold of you. I’d have told you I wasn’t going to be able to meet up this month.”

“That’s all right. I figured it out.”

“But…how did you know I was here? No one—well, hardly anyone—knows where I am. And what about all the roadblocks?”

Mariah took a can of peas from the shelf, read the label, frowned, and put it back. “I’m good at finding things.”

Zara waited for more of an explanation, but in true Mariah-fashion, there was none. Even though they’d met years ago in Cascadia at the
Taghta
abbey near Zara’s hometown of Vallenberg, the woman didn’t talk much about herself.

“You have the Gideon knife with you, right?”

She wondered how the woman knew that, but figured she’d get another vague explanation, so she didn’t bother asking. “It’s in my car.”

Assuming Mariah wanted to take the artifact and be on her way, she started to leave the shopping basket in the aisle and head out to the car.

“I’m not in a hurry,” her friend said. “Finish your shopping first.”

“Okay. I just need a few things from the dairy case and that’s it.”

Mariah came with her, stopping a few times to examine random items from the shelves.

“We located another artifact that we could use your help with.” Mariah squeezed a dog toy hanging from a hook as they walked past. “It was recently taken from Cascadia and smuggled over here.”

“Recently? So there was another raid?” Zara felt sick to her stomach. “Were…any children taken?”

Thugs from the Pacifican army came to their world to kidnap Cascadian children in the hopes that they had Talents that could be exploited as they got older. Oftentimes, whole villages would be burned, the people killed.

Mariah shook her head. “I haven’t heard that there were children taken this time.”

Zara felt her shoulders relax. “I’d be happy to help recover it as long as you don’t need it right away. I’m not sure what my immediate plans are going to be.”

“No rush.” Mariah stopped talking as a woman with a toddler pushed a shopping cart past them. “Oh hey, congratulations.” She fist-bumped Zara.

“I…uh…for what?”

Mariah lowered her voice. “The prison break, silly. That was pretty damn ballsy of you.”

The compliment meant a lot to her, considering Mariah herself was a badass. “I am so thankful that you told my brother how to find me.”

The other woman stopped to look at a jar of pickled asparagus. “So how’s this man of yours doing?” she asked, pulling it from the shelf.

Zara double-checked to make sure they were still alone. “It’s hard to tell. Hasn’t said a lot. He goes running, spends a lot of time by himself and sleeps. Today, he got up to go for a run and still wasn’t back before I left.”

“The change must be quite a shock. It’s bound to take him a while to get used to life outside prison walls.” Mariah made sure the asparagus jar was lined up perfectly with the rest before continuing down the aisle. “He’s the father of your son, right? Because it’s good that he’s going through this adjustment time before he meets him.”

Zara almost choked. “How did you know?”

Mariah waved her hand. “You used to talk in your sleep about a boy named Vince. Figured he was the father of the baby you were carrying. The man you helped escape from prison is named Vince, so you do the math.” Mariah sniffed a candle, grimaced, and put it back. “He’s having a hard time, eh?”

Zara nodded. “He hasn’t asked about Darius yet, though he knew I was pregnant.” She tried not to sound too disappointed, but she couldn’t help it. She would’ve thought their child would be one of the first things he asked about.

Mariah turned to face her, a roll of duct tape in her hand. “Do you still love him?”

Zara blinked at her friend’s bluntness, and the items in her basket suddenly went blurry. She wanted to shout,
Yes, of course I love him! I’ve always loved him, except for the ten years when I hated him.

“I…I think so,” she said instead. “But maybe I’m just in love with what we once had. It was a long time ago. We were different people then.”

Mariah reached out and touched her arm. Zara couldn’t help but notice how her friend’s eyes sparkled like precious gems in the overhead lighting of this very plain, utilitarian grocery store.

“He’s a man coming home from war, Zara. He’s been traumatized. Exposed to terrible things. Experienced unspeakable horrors that you will probably never know about. Be patient and loving with him, but don’t push or smother. Just be there for him when he needs you. It could take a while until he’s able to reintegrate himself back into his life.”

Zara nodded at her friend’s wise words. “Yeah, I know.”

But what if she and Vince just weren’t meant to be? What if they weren’t two of a kind, two halves of the same whole? It was a song he used to sing to her in that crazy, out-of-tune voice of his. Although he was an incredibly talented artist, Vince couldn’t carry a tune if his life depended on it. She used to snort with laughter every time he sang it, which made her heart ache now. She hadn’t thought about that in a long time.

“What if he doesn’t love me anymore, Mariah?” She almost couldn’t choke out the words.

Her friend stood there a moment, staring at her, as if she were trying to figure out what to say. “Give him time, Zara. He didn’t get this way overnight. He may need to figure things out for himself first.”


T
hat's good
,” Vince called, motioning for the dump truck driver to stop. He waited off to the side as a load of gravel was dumped onto Reckless's parking lot.

Rand leaned on the backhoe, having just finished showing Vince how to use it. “I really appreciate this. I can’t believe my guy who was going to do this called in sick again. He’s been flaking out lately, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“No problem,” Vince replied. “I’m happy there’s something I can do around here to help.”

“I owe you,” Rand said. “Big time.”

No, he didn’t. More like the other way around.

“Well, holler if you need anything,” the other man told him before turning and heading back into the garage.

Vince climbed into the backhoe and got to work moving gravel. It felt good to get out and do something constructive that took him away from his thoughts. He was sick of thinking. Zara was probably sick of it, too, although to her credit, she hadn’t said a word about it.

He’d seen her leave about an hour ago. Rand said she’d asked if she could get to the grocery store without running into any roadblocks. As Vince worked, he kept one eye on the entrance, waiting for her to return back safely.

Spreading gravel this way wasn’t bad, he thought, as he pressed the lever to lower the bucket and scoop another load. Not bad at all. Especially since he had lots of experience doing it by hand and knew exactly how much that sucked.

He took a swig from his water bottle just as Zara pulled into the parking lot. His heart thudded in his chest that she was not only safe and sound but that she’d turned the car in this direction.

Good time for a break, he decided, so he turned off the backhoe and climbed out.

She slowed the car and rolled down her window. Damn, she was gorgeous. Her hair hung in loose curls over her shoulders, and he longed to run his fingers through it. Her eyes sparkled, a half-smile on her upturned face. After all those dark, lonely years in prison where she was all he’d dreamed about, he would never grow tired of seeing her in person like this.

“Looks like Rand’s got you working hard,” she said.

“Heavy equipment rocks.”

“Yeah, it does,” she said, her gaze sliding over him appreciatively.

His cock began to harden in response. Okay, he liked that. A lot.

He noticed grocery sacks in the back seat. “Need some help?”

“Sure.”

He climbed in and directed her to park out back near the motocross park, explaining that the dump truck would be delivering a few more loads and he wanted to keep the parking lot as empty as possible.

“So you got some food?” Totally obvious for sure, but he wanted to keep talking with her—something he hadn’t been good at lately.

She didn’t act like she thought the question was stupid. “Thought I’d do a little baking, you know?”

Memories of how she always used to have food ready for him when he came across the portal flashed in his mind. She used to laugh and say that the portal must’ve made the food in his stomach vanish along with his clothes because he was always starving.

He sighed. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. They were both so young and naïve back then, oblivious of the hard times that were coming.

She parked the car, and when he went to grab the sacks from the back seat, he saw the little blue backpack again. He brushed his fingertips over the straps and wondered for the thousandth time about the boy it belonged to. The ache he felt earlier came back with a vengeance. What did his son look like? What kind of child was he? Smart, funny, serious, athletic? All of the above? But ultimately, all that mattered to him was that his son was happy.

Zara was looking at him, a curious expression on her lovely face. Jerking his hand away, he quickly grabbed the sacks and shut the car door with an elbow.

“I got you something,” she said as they traipsed across gravel, not saying anything about his reaction to the backpack.

“You did?”

“Yeah, but it’s nothing big, so don’t be expecting that I got you a pony or anything.”

He laughed.

When they got to the break room, she rummaged around in the sacks and pulled out a small package wrapped in brown butcher paper and tied with a piece of twine. She handed it to him.

“What’s this?” he asked, taking it from her.

“Open it.” She started unloading the groceries.

Inside the package was a pad of drawing paper and several charcoal pencils. He rubbed his hand over the front cover and then fanned the pages with his thumb. “You got this for me,” he said softly.

“I wasn’t sure if you still like to draw. If you don’t, no big deal. I just thought—”

Overcome by the incredibly thoughtful gesture, he reached for her and pulled her into his arms. “Thank you,” he mumbled into her fragrant hair. “It’s perfect.”

Just like she was and always had been.

She was a flame, constantly flickering in his darkness, igniting his lifeless soul for the past ten years.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said against his chest. “It’s not fancy. It’s just—”

“It’s perfect,” he said again. “I’m…sorry, Zara.”

She lifted her chin to him and smiled. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.” Cupping his face in her hands, she pressed her lips chastely to his. “You sketch while I bake.”

Her simple kiss with no expectations made him want her all the more. He watched as she washed her hands, turned on the oven and got out a mixing bowl. She moved efficiently, as if she’d done this a hundred times before.

He opened the pad, grabbed a pencil and began drawing. He suddenly felt like talking. “Did my sister tell you anything about my mother? Is my mom…doing okay?” He held his breath as he waited for the answer.

“Your mom’s doing well. It’s a long story—I’ll let Olivia tell you the whole thing when you see her—but your mom found out she was actually born in Cascadia. Olivia and Asher brought her across the portal to meet her long lost relatives—cousins, I think—so that’s where she is now.”

His mom must’ve been so thrilled to learn this. Relieved that she was doing fine, he felt some of the built-up tension seeping from his shoulders. There was so much to get caught up on. He knew his mother had been adopted when she was a baby, but he’d had no idea she was from Cascadia.

“That means I’ve got Cascadian blood too,” he said, keeping his voice low in case someone came into the break room.

BOOK: Warrior's Heart: Iron Portal Series (Paranormal Romance)
11.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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