No, now I could easily recognize her scent even amongst a sea of sweaty, unwashed, weekend music festival goers high on stinky weed and bathing in patchouli. “I see you found my supply bin in the closet. I do appreciate the tape.”
“You’re in danger with me,” she chokes out. “How does this evenwork? What if I don’t ever want to be turned? So, you just live with me and watch me grow old and die one day, and I break your heart again? I can’t do that to you.”
“Love, that ismychoice, and one that I make without hesitation or reservation when it comes to you.” I rub my cheek against the top of her head. I desperately want to turn her thoughts away from that darkness. “I’m curious to see what I’m wearing tonight.”
She tips her head back and meets my gaze, my attempt to cajole her with a little humor falling pitifully flat. I can’t help cupping her cheeks in my hands, so I can brush her tears away with my thumbs.
“I willnotrush you. Tonight, tomorrow, next year, ten years from now—I will berighthere, waiting, hoping. But I willnotwalk away from you or allow you to let fear make this decision for you. I am stronger than anything that will ever threaten you. It ismydecision to fight for you. Wewillfigure out what it is, and we’ll take care of ittogether.”
She nods, and I brush a kiss across her lips.
“Good girl. Let’s take a shower, and you will need some food before we leave, and I’ll have to feed.”
“I brought four bags of blood for you. I hope that was enough.”
“More than, thank you.” I don’t add that I can drink more at the club later, if I’m still hungry.
I turn to retrieve my things from the closet and peel the remaining tape off the doorframe for her when I spot the open photo album on her bed. I pause, studying it. “Love, is this your mother?”
She glances over. “Yeah. That was me and Mom when I was sixteen.”
“May I?”
She nods.
I pick up the album, my gaze drawn not to how much they look alike, with the same hair and the same beautiful smiles, but to the faint marks on the top of her mother’s left shoulder. Very faint, near the curve of her neck, visible thanks to the tank top.
“She was beautiful,” I honestly say. “And you look so much like her.”
“Mom always said I have Dad’s eyes.”
Interesting.Violet eyes are rare in humans, and they are never the brilliant, clear color of Eilidh’s. If her father had the same color eyes…
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the mark on her mother’s shoulder was a mating mark. “Did your mother ever have another husband, or boyfriend, or anyone like that in her life?”
She shakes her head. “Never even dated. Even when I was older and told her she should try going out and meeting guys. She loved Dad too much. I honestly think if it hadn’t been for me, she might have given up on life. Those first years were really rough. Countless times, I remember hearing her cry at night, when she thought I was asleep.”
Ahhh.
My sweet Eilidh’s enigma grows even more complex.
When she steps into the bathroom, I pull out my phone and snap two photos of that picture, one at regular size and one zoomed in on the marks. They don’t look exactly like a wolf’s mark, but it can’t be anythingbuta mating mark. I’d stake my life on it.
Literally.
By the time she emerges from the bathroom with my garment bag, I’m peeling the tape from around the closet door. Then I retrieve my blazer, vest, shoes, and socks from the closet.
She shows me what she selected for me to wear and I can’t help but smile. “Jeans and boots, hmm?”
“I hope that was okay.”
“It’s brilliant, love. I’ll wear whatever makes you happy.”
It feels damned perfect, calling her that.Love.
Unless she asks me not to, I will.
I plug my nearly dead phone into its charger and then gently tug Eilidh into my arms again. “Don’t forget to pack for tonight. If you still wish to stay with me, that is.”
