“Come in,” I say, keeping my voice neutral. I try to keep a rigid stance as I turn to face him, but the gentle roll of the boat has me swaying.
Marcus steps inside, filling the doorway with his tall frame. The air between us is loaded with tension, and I cross my arms over my chest.
Here we go again.
Another lecture about staying safe, about how dangerous the mission is. I can practically feel his protective instincts radiating at me.
“Whatever you’re going to say, save it,” I tell him, lifting my chin. “I’m going on this mission whether you like it or not.”
His eyes darken to the color of night as they meet mine, and I fight the urge to step back. Being this close to him in the room where we…
No. Don’t think about it, Kara.
I strengthen my mental shields, trying to block out the ghost sensations of his touch, the memory of his lips on my neck.
When I look up at him, he’s staring past me at the bed. He pulls his eyes away and looks into mine. For a moment, I’m lost. The memories, the sensations…
And there you go again, you idiot.
I brace myself for the usual argument, the overprotective vampire routine that’s becoming way too familiar. But Marcus surprises me by crossing to the desk and picking up one of my crystals, examining it with careful fingers.
“Your ward work is solid,” he says quietly. “And the strategy you outlined in the meeting was…impressive.”
I blink, thrown off balance by the unexpected praise. “What?”
“I think you’ve put a good plan together. It could work.” He pauses. “Itwillwork.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “Okay, who are you, and what have you done with Marcus Nightshade?”
A slight smile tugs at his lips. “I can acknowledge skill when I see it.”
Something’s different about him tonight. The usual tension is still there, but it’s shifted somehow. Unexpected feelings filter from him; I catch hints of…respect? Concern, yes, but not the suffocating protectiveness from before.
“So you’re not here to tell me I can’t go?” I ask, suspicious.
He sets the crystal down. “Would it make any difference if I did?”
Our eyes meet, and the air between us feels charged. I can sense a swirl of emotions from him – worry, admiration, something deeper that makes my breath catch.
“No,” I admit. “It wouldn’t.”
“Then I’m here to make sure you have everything you need.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small velvet pouch. “This might help.”
Curious, I walk up to him and frown down at it. Silver gleams in the low light as he tips the contents into my palm.
“What is this?” I look up at him, the cool metal growing warm in my hand. “Some sort of charm?”
“You might see it that way.” His lips twitch up. “It belonged to my mother.”
“Your maker?” I raise the gleaming silver chain and examine the dark pendant swinging from it.
“My birth mother.” He takes the chain from my fingers. I almost shiver when he reaches behind my neck to fasten it. The movement brings us close. “My human mother,” he adds.
I stare at him. This pendant is a connection to his mortal life. The enormity of this gesture leaves my head spinning. “Wow,” is all I manage.
He steps back. “Come to think of it, there may have been a little witch in her.” He smiles. It’s wistful.
“It’s…beautiful.” The words are woefully inadequate. I look down at where the polished black stone is nestled in an intricately woven silver setting. The workmanship is exquisite.
