As we passed another beautiful mansion, I caught a glimpse of towering white turrets through gaps in the fence. “That’s where Lexen and his family live,” Daniel said. “My house is next door.”
Next door turned out to be like a block away, but technically he was right. Daniel’s fence was at least twenty feet tall, shiny and reflective, no way to see in at all. He keyed in a code to a small pad by the entrance and the gate swung silently in.
“Whoa,” I whispered, completely enthralled by my first glimpse of his home. Daniel pulled me through, because I was too busy gawking to walk.
“It’s one of my favorite places in both worlds,” he said quietly. “I had it built when Laous decreed that all overlord minors had to spend a two-year term at the school here.”
“They must have built it quick,” I said breathlessly. “Seriously, it’s amazing.”
I was catching more glimpses of his house through the trees, the full picture getting clearer as we walked closer. It was a log cabin. Well, cabin was a vast understatement, but I couldn’t think of another word. Two or three stories high, with dark timber panels and wide wraparound decks on the lower and upper levels. Surrounding it was a forest worthy of a fairy tale: tall trees and a trickling creek. It was perfect. I was instantly in love with this cabin in the woods.
“I dreamed of owning a home one day,” I told him breathlessly. “A place which was just mine. Didn’t have to be huge, as long as I could put my own touches on it. Make it feel homey.” And there I went, over-sharing again. Before he could say anything, I segued to a random question: “How many Daelighters live here on Earth?”
He paused on the front porch, just before the main huge, wood door. “A few hundred thousand live out in your world.” I was surprised; I would have expected far less. “And about a hundred live here on this street. Daelight is generally reserved for those attending the school here. Or those wanting to slowly transition to Earth within a safe, controlled environment. Overlord families have their own territories here, and the rest share all the mansions near the back of this street. Keeping to their respective houses, of course.”
He released my hand, opened the wide door with a click, and then let me step inside first. Part of me mourned the loss of his touch. It was getting harder and harder for me to remember that we were just friends. My “newness” to this emotions thing had to be the reason. Surely this was too soon to care so much?
The cabin interior did distract me nicely though; it was as opulent and stunning as outside. It held a rustic charm, but the kind of rustic charm only a billionaire could afford. There was a lot of wood, broken up with accents of slate and tile and brick – of the old red and whitewashed variety. There were wide beams across the ceiling, open rafters, and so much charm.
Everything on this floor centered around a fireplace; barn doors led to a kitchen. “Can I live here forever?” I asked, jokingly.
Daniel didn’t laugh as I expected. He nodded. “What’s mine is yours. You don’t even have to ask. We have a bonded soul. My houses and money are nothing in comparison.”
I coughed, trying to figure out which of my emotions was strongest right then. Confusion, elation, fear … and something thick and warm which was wrapping around my heart.
I decided to share something of myself with him. Because he had shared so much with me. “Until recently, I was very alone.” I didn’t look at him, because I was nervous. “I shut my emotions down and never felt anything. It just seemed easier than hoping for a different life.” My mom’s haggard face flashed across my mind, and the familiar pain I associated with her flared with it. My voice was rougher now. “Life was just about running and training. Fighting was my only escape … until we moved to NOLA.” I sucked in a deep breath. “That city … it set me alight. It made me feel. The music touched my soul. The people filled my heart. I haven’t been able to shut myself down since. And almost dying only made it worse. My world before all of this was very black and white, maybe some gray at times, but it was always dull.” My voice was shaking, and for the first time in years, I was going to cry. “You brought colors and life to my world. You made me realize that if I had died at Laous’ hands, then I would never have lived at all. I wasted the first eighteen years. I won’t waste the rest.” Hot tears slid down my cheeks, and I choked on the last words, letting my head fall forward. Gravity stole my tears, pulling them down to land on the polished wood at my feet.
Movement had me lifting my head slowly, and my breath fled in a huff when I realized Daniel was standing right in front of me. His expression was fierce but somehow tender. He raised his hand and tilted my chin up with one finger, his other palm cupping my face as our gazes remained locked. My lungs were screaming at me, but I couldn’t make myself suck in any air, lest I break this moment.
Something had changed between us, a fundamental shift. I suddenly couldn’t wait to see what he did next.
“You’ll never be alone again, Callie,” he told me. It was a promise, I felt that in every word. “Your mom didn’t deserve the bright, smart, funny girl she got. But I won’t make the same mistake with the woman who fell into my life.”
I wanted to kiss him. The urge came at me so hard that I actually rocked toward him. His arms wrapped around me and I sank into the hug. It was the perfect thing in that moment, drying up the tears and sadness in my heart. Sure, no kiss, but that was okay.
In truth, we were going to be in each other’s lives for hundreds of years … or more. There was a real chance that a romantic relationship could lead to hurt feelings and resentment. In that case, logically, we were better off staying friends.
If I kept telling myself that, maybe one day I’d believe it.
After that, things felt lighter between us. Daniel led me up to the second level of his home, explaining the artwork on the walls as we passed. He was a big fan of industrial era paintings, teamed with lots of handmade metal work. Outside of the multiple art pieces, there were three open doors on this level, each of them leading into a huge bedroom.
When we finally reached Daniel’s room, it took up almost half the entire floor. My shoes squished into the thick rugs draped over wood floors as he led me into a large walk-in closet. It took him about five seconds to pull out a sweater for me; it was thick, warm, and dark gray. I had to roll up the sleeves multiple times, but otherwise it was so comfortable I could have snuggled into it and gone to sleep.
And that had nothing to do with the fact that it smelled like dark spice and wood-fire, just like Daniel. Absolutely nothing.
Back downstairs, we stopped in the kitchen, so Daniel could grab us some food. He whipped up a few grilled cheese sandwiches. “It’s my go-to breakfast,” he said, putting the plate in front of me.
I practically snatched it up. “My favorite,” I moaned, already anticipating the cheesy goodness melting in my mouth.
Just as I took my first bite, he placed a newly-filled mug of coffee down for me. I was starting to think I was becoming more than a little addicted to having Daniel in my life. Seriously.
“How do you know the way I like my coffee?” I asked between mouthfuls.
He took the seat next to me at the kitchen bench, his own plate full. “I remembered from New Orleans,” he said simply.
He started to eat, and I just stared at him. He remembered that? Remembered and made sure he brought it just the way I liked it. Daniel was too good to be true. I was starting to worry that one day, when my soul was strong enough to be without him, I would find that another part of me couldn’t be separated from him.
My heart.
