Wrath: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 2 (37 page)

I began to argue but stopped mid-breath. Hellion was right, and I sagged with the burden of knowledge. Not knowing what was on the other end of a rematerialization could spell disaster. Hadn’t he already been arrested for just such a move only hours ago? No, I knew he was right and it wasn’t feasible. But still… “Is there a way to trace the hair? Scry for it maybe?”

He shook his head and rubbed his forehead. “Scrying can’t be your answer for everything, love.” He looked up, and I was glad to see he had relaxed some once he’d realized I wasn’t going to fight with him about running off all helter skelter after the madman. “For what it’s worth, scrying can only be done on living things.”

“Vampires?”

“Not living, so no.”

“Uh, what
are
they?”

“Best anyone can tell, they are reanimated corpses affected by creation magic. There are a hundred different theories on the how and why of it all. Do you really want to discuss this now?”

I shrugged, tossing the clothes I’d grabbed back onto the dresser top. “No. I was just curious.” I walked to the bed and slid under the covers, having become chilled as the initial adrenaline rush wore off.

Hellion followed me to his side of the bed and crawled in, lying on his side and propping his head in his hand. “There are some things we can do today if you’d like to get a feel for the magic that was at work while the killer was here. Or, if you’d like, we can get some sleep and then go out and see what else there is to learn about the most recent murders.”

“That’s a good idea. I suppose one of the first things we should do is see if he struck again last night,” I mumbled, suddenly exhausted.

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you come in and hang out while I work on testing the bedroom’s resonance, or magical footprint, if you’ll get some rest now and work on the murders in just a little while.” He reached over and ran a warm hand up and down my arm, and I slid under the covers.

“I can’t seem to think,” I said around a yawn. “I don’t know how much good I’d be now anyway.” I rolled my head on the pillow so I met his eyes. “Give me your word that we’ll work on this as soon as we’re up in a little while.”

“On my honor, we’ll work on this and nothing else.” He looked guilty, and I couldn’t help but worry at the doubt that sprang up unwelcomed.

“What?”

He half-shrugged, and I tucked the covers under my chin, fighting the pull of sleep as I warmed up and my muscles relaxed.

“What is it?” I asked again. “Don’t shrug me off. This new honesty policy is working out all right for you so far,” I teased, running a finger down his nose and touching his lips.

Hellion rolled over on his back and dropped his arms behind his head. “Is there anything you want from me? I feel I took advantage of you just a bit ago.”

“Want? Oh. Uh, I’m okay.” Suddenly I felt awkward and shy. “Is there anything else you want from me?”

“Yes,” he said softly. His head lolled to the side, and his eyes were pulsing like crazy. “I’d like to know how long you’re going to avoid the fact that I’ve asked you to marry me.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sleep was suddenly a wishful commodity I knew I wouldn’t be getting any time soon. My stomach knotted and I curled around my free arm, afraid yet again that I would say or do something that would potentially make Hellion abandon me. I fought the quaking fear but it built relentlessly, and I found my mouth watering excessively as my stomach pitched and rolled. I clenched my eyes shut and held my mid-section, breathing shallowly through my nose as I fought the feeling.

Hellion reached out and touched my forehead and the nausea eased, so I let my eyes open incrementally. The volatile queasiness passed and I took a deep, shaky breath.

“Thank you,” I breathed. There was little I hated more than puking.

“I suppose your physical reaction to my proposal is telling enough,” Hellion said softly, his disappointment hanging invisibly in the air between us. “I’ll not bring it up again.” He rolled over and laid on his back, eyes closed, fine lines etching his countenance and aging him perceptibly.

“I just can’t,” I whispered. “Not yet.”

“I’m not proposing we post banns and hire a priest, Maddy. I’m asking you to commit to me and wear my mark so the world knows you’re mine and, equally, that I’m yours.” His voice was low and soft, not angry like I’d expected. But anger would have been more welcome a reaction than the dejection I felt from him. The proud, arrogant, decisive man I was falling in love with was not the same insecure and rejected man who faced me now. Or maybe he was, and I’d brought him this low.

Bingo,
I thought, and guilt took over where the nausea had left off. I wasn’t sure what to say or do to make this better, but I knew I had to do something. He’d told me in Ireland he’d only ask me once, and he’d broken that promise and asked me twice. It was telling for him to put himself out there, to make himself vulnerable, twice. I wouldn’t get a third opportunity.

I reached over and traced the edge of his jaw, ending at his ear, and I tugged. “Hellion?”

“Hmm.”

“Look at me. I need you to have this discussion with me face-to-face. I won’t allow either of us to hide from this, because we both have needs here.” I was almost shocked at the rational approach I was taking. I definitely hadn’t expected it of myself. Arm waving, tripping over my feet, and totally irrational was more my historical style.

With a great upheaval of the covers, he ended up lying on top of me, and I squeaked in alarm. “Close enough for you?” His voice was still low, but it was laced with a new menace that hadn’t been there before. He was working himself up to a self-righteous fit of temper.

“I imagine this will do.” I laid a trembling hand on his heart and felt it pounding traitorously, revealing his angst as equal to, and possibly greater than, mine. His building arousal twitched against my thigh and I sighed.
Men.
They’d get a cockstand over anything. And Hellion was definitely all man. He was horny enough that I imagine the daily stock reports gave him a hard-on.

He wiggled and pushed until he was lying between my thighs and was well situated to make the most of his condition, but I definitely wasn’t going to respond to being bullied.

“You’re making this into something it’s not supposed to be,” I said gently, pushing his hair back so it was out of his face.

“No, Maddy, that’s your job. You wanted a physical relationship with an option for love, and I gave you that. You professed you loved me. Time itself stood still, and I believed you. But it’s not enough to convince you. So I’ll make my point”—he pushed at my entrance—“however I believe you’ll see it. We’re meant, you and I, and damn if I’m not getting tired of trying to convince you.”

Just as quickly as he’d been about to slip inside me, he was gone, striding across the room to his closet. I heard him rustling about, and he came back out with a small, blue velvet box. His movements were slower, more contained, as he approached the bed. He knelt down on one knee, his erection an odd flagship before him. My stomach lurched and he spoke softly but urgently. “I hadn’t meant to ask again, truly, for I’d promised you I wouldn’t. But I saw this the night we walked to Black & Bleu and had Mark go back and purchase it. It’s yours, whether you choose to marry me or not, because I bought it as a gift, not a sentence.” He folded the lid open, and inside winked the most beautiful diamond and tanzanite ring I’d ever seen. The center stone was an asscher-cut diamond of highly respectable size, framed on either side by simple but brilliant tanzanite trillions. Set in white gold—or was it platinum?—the ring winked at me from its velvet nest.

Tears blurred my vision, and I felt such compassion and empathy for this proud man, kneeling naked on the floor in front of me. He had put himself out there a final time, willing to confess to all his intent to love me forever, and still I held back, despite what I knew to be true. I loved him. Looking down, several tears broke free and slid down my face to drip onto the duvet.

What the hell is wrong with you, Niteclif?
my conscience demanded.

All I knew was that it was too soon after Bahlin’s rejection for me to make promises of forever again, no matter what I felt to be true. Maybe we could compromise. I cleared my throat and looked up.

Hellion looked heartbroken, and I reached out to touch his face. He shook his head and sat back on his heels, just out of my reach, the ring box hanging loosely in his grasp. Once again, he expected me to disappoint him.

“I have a proposal of my own,” I rasped, clearing my throat yet again. His eyes snapped up and I shook my head, holding out a hand. He took it tentatively. “I will accept your ring,” I said, and his eyes flashed to my face, “
but
, and this is a big but, Hellion. I’ll accept it as a symbol of my commitment to you, but not as an engagement ring. I’m not ready to take that step yet, and I think pushing me into it is the wrong way to start our married lives together, don’t you?” I held my breath, hoping he’d take my olive branch.

“I have no wish to tie you down, Madeleine Niteclif, only to love you as no woman has been loved before by man.” He leaned forward so he was on one knee. “Let me modify my proposal then. Madeleine Niteclif, will you wear this ring as a symbol of the promise we make to each other here and now, to love each other to the best of our abilities, individually and as a mated pair, to stay committed and true to each other in spite of the absence of a spoken vow, and as a means of letting the world know that you are my beloved?” He looked at me with such naked hope, and I knew this was the compromise I sought.

“I would be honored.” And while my response was almost entirely true, I inwardly flinched when I realized my right hand was still bandaged so my left hand was the only option.

Hellion, though, nearly blazed with triumph at the realization, and his large hands shook as with one hand he held my wrist while with the other he slid the ring on my ring finger. The band grew hot and heavy, but the feeling was fleeting. He looked up and grinned, and I was touched by the look of joy on his face.

I reached out a trembling hand and laid it against his cheek. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything. Just don’t ask me to take the ring off, please. That would hurt me.”

“The thought honestly never crossed my mind.” And it hadn’t. It was the putting it on at all that had given me pause. “No, what I’d like to ask is that you wear a ring, too. Because it’s always seemed a little sexist that the woman wears a token and the man still runs around and ‘looks’ free to other women.” I rolled my shoulders at the discomfort that lodged between my shoulder blades. “I know it’s sort of hypocritical—”

“I’d be so damned honored, Madeleine Niteclif,” he whispered, choked with emotion. He swallowed hard and I reached out to stroke his throat.

“Wait here.” I couldn’t believe I was about to do this. I went to my small jewelry pouch and dug through the little bit I had, and emerged with a titanium band. On legs that felt as firm as well-cooked pasta, I made my way back to the bed and sat on the edge.
This is the strangest freaking way this could have happened,
I thought to myself. My hands were shaking so hard Hellion had to take the band I held.

Grasping my good hand and rubbing the ring newly situated on my hand, he watched me with such openness that I followed my heart and leaned in to kiss him. He stood and leaned me back onto the bed, covering me with his body, kissing me with a newfound tenderness I’d never experienced from him. He lifted his head and smiled such an angelic smile, but it was countered by the fierce pulsing of his obsidian eyes.

“Will you wear my ring, Hellion? Will you let the world know we’ve taken the first steps in declaring out commitment to each other?” I asked in a tight voice.

“If it’s what you’d ask of me, I will.”

The ring was too small for his ring finger on either hand, so I slid it onto the pinky finger of his left hand, where it fit well. “When did you have the opportunity to buy a ring, Maddy?” he asked, and then froze, horror dawning on his face as his lips drew tight. “Please tell me this isn’t something you bought for Bahlin.”

The small remaining wound in my heart pulsed, and I squashed it. The dragon had no place in this room. “No! No, Hellion. The ring was my dad’s. It’s the only thing that I got back after the accident.” I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I began to gasp, trying to force air back into my lungs, and I panicked. I stood and began to pace the room, turning as I reached the bedroom door only to find that Hellion had followed me silently.

“Slow down, Maddy. I’ll take it off and we’ll find something else, okay?” He went to remove the ring, and I shook my head violently.

“No!” I wheezed. “No, Hellion. Keep it on. Please. I just had a flashback to the day the ring arrived. The police
mailed
the thing to me. The last piece of my father, and it arrived parcel post.” Tears raced down my cheeks but my breathing slowed. “Parcel post,” I whispered, “with no warning. I saved it, knowing someday I’d meet a man worthy of the most valuable personal possession I owned.”

If ever someone had looked shell-shocked, it was now. Hellion went down on one knee in front of me and, grasping my good left hand, made an impassioned speech in Gaelic. I caught the words forever, always, promise and a few others. He kissed my hand and stood.

“Come to me, Maddy. Let me take you to bed,
muirnuín
, and show you what it is to be loved. It will be the first day of the rest of our days.”