“No, I’d rather… Could I come to you? You said you’re home, and I’m already out.”
“I’m here. Come to me.”
Come to me.How she longed to. In every way. Home to him, with him, forever. Bloodbound forever.
What if tonight was the night? If the big topic was his epiphany, showing him how strong and safe he was, making him ready to seal their centuries? Already on the way, she reached his condo in about ten minutes. When she hit the buzzer for the top floor—hisfloor—his voice came through the intercom next to the locked doors within two seconds.
“Claire?”
“It’s me.”
The buzzer made her flinch as always, its volume set for human ears. The door unlocked. Claire crossed the lobby to the elevator, then entered the six-digit passcode for Tai’s floor. In half a minute, it opened, and she stepped into Tai’s foyer…where Tai stood waiting.
He’d been in the shower recently. His hair was barely damp, still tousled from a towel-drying. He was barefoot in black sweatpants and a maple-brown hoodie adorned with the wordsjukebox the ghostin a swirly font.
Before she could take another step, Tai darted to her side and tipped her chin with one gentle finger. He reached toward the torn skin at her collarbone, his fingers stopping in time to hover above the wound.
“What is this?”
“It’s nothing.”
The denial came out of habit. She knew he’d press for an answer. She wouldn’t have come to him like this if she weren’tready to tell him. For the first time, the secret began to ache inside her, clawing to come out. Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe tonight wasn’t about becoming bloodbound to the man she loved. Maybe it was about trusting that man with her final, sharpest piece.
Before she could speak again, Tai’s metallic eyes washed charcoal, and he flinched as if she’d slapped him.
None of this was right, was how she’d have chosen to tell him, except part of herhadchosen it, and the rest of her was still trying to catch up.
Tai set his hands on her shoulders, gently as if she might be injured there too. He stepped in close, hesitant…oh. He thought she might need space from him. Might not welcome the physical contact. Claire wrapped her arms around his back and pressed her palms there, pressed closer to him, buried her face in his hoodie, which was softer than it looked, well-worn. Tai’s arms surrounded her in safety. He gave a single, shuddering breath against her hair. He held her, and she let herself be held. She wasn’t lonely anymore.
“Come on,” he said.
Before she had to move, he scooped her into the cradle of his arms and carried her to the open living room. Claire hid her face in his shoulder as feelings she’d kept in check began surging inside. Not the aftermath of the fight. She’d kicked that blond misogynist’s butt. No, this was something else. This wasn’t about then; it was about now. She didn’t have to pick up her own pieces. Tai was here. Tai was holding her. Tai was safe, and Claire could rest. She was still the feather of strength, but in this moment she wasn’t soaring high and catching a solitary current. She was floating down, down, down to settle in Tai’s arms.
Except she still had to tell him.
She could often predict his reactions to things, but this? She had no idea what he’d say about this. What he’d think, what he’d feel.
Tai settled her on the couch. He seemed to move away with effort, wanting to hold her, but she had to tell him first. She sat up and swung her legs to the floor, and Tai sat beside her and took her hand. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and she heard him grind his teeth a few times before forcing himself to stop.
“There’s something I’ve been doing,” she said.
He nodded, waited for more. When she didn’t continue, he said, “Claire, please tell me.”
The quiet plea jarred like a physical blow, all the way down her spine. She must be right about the intervention of the universe. This must be the day he was supposed to know.
“Claire?”
She shut her eyes a moment, then kept her gaze on their hands. She wove her fingers through his. “Twice a month, I pick a human club, and”—she gestured to her dress, her face, the neon eyeshadow and lipstick—“I pretend I’m a human woman who’s had just enough to drink. I make my movements sluggish and wait to see if there are any predators in the house that night.”
Tai was grinding his teeth in earnest by the time she paused, his chest still as he forgot to breathe. “And if there is a predator?”
“I let him think he’s going to get what he wants. Until I get him alone. Then I zip-tie him and leave him for the police.”
A sudden, sharp breath shuddered into him, then back out. “The wig is blonde.”
A surprised laugh caught in her throat. “Good guess.”
“And your contact lenses are brown.”
