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The Immortal’s Salvation

Page 70

by Cecelia Mecca

Chapter 19

Lawrence stopped. Stared. Felt his pants immediately tighten at the sight.

Toni gripped the porch railing, likely wondering why he stood rooted to the sidewalk.

Gone were the flowy skirts and crossbody bag. In their place, a simple, sleeveless black cocktail dress and black heels. Her hair, normally piled atop her head in a messy topknot, hung loose in waves that radiated out in every direction. Red, flaming waves that looked as if she’d emerged victorious from the depths of an active volcano. As always, a minimal amount of makeup completed the look.

She was trying to kill him.

Luckily, he couldn’t be killed. Not easily, anyway.

Finding his legs, Lawrence moved toward the small front porch, quaint with its hanging flower pots and white pickets.

“You look . . . beautiful.”

The word seemed inadequate. Centuries had passed since he’d called a woman the fairest in all of Christendom. But Toni outshone that long-ago beauty, and every other, past and present, with her combination of inner and outer beauty.

Jesus.

“Thank you.”

Toni’s smile almost made him forget about his sister for a moment. And the fact that her “will be fine, on way home soon” had turned into “on our way back in a few days.” Neither she nor Torr were returning his calls now. At least his brother had told him the truth—if not for Torr, he wouldn’t have known how close they’d come to disaster.

But this was so very much like Laria.

He recalled one of his other attempted retirements, this one in a small Swiss town, an open place where vampires and Cheld lived together with a few humans. Staying in contact had been more difficult then—they’d had to rely on postage, which was notoriously slow. Six months had passed before he’d learned Rowan Morley had killed an entire family of Cheld who’d awakened at once, a highly unusual case. He’d abandoned the quaint town at once and rejoined his siblings. At the time, he’d felt there was no choice.

Laria so wanted to give him that one thing Lawrence had never achieved after all these years—peace.

But it wasn’t hers to give.

“So serious suddenly.”

His attention snapped back to Toni.

“Are you ready?” she asked softly.

He offered her his arm. “More than you know.”

Avoiding the tourists on Main Street, they used side streets to get to Roberto’s. They were seated at the best table, something he’d arranged with the owner. He ordered two glasses of red wine, her favorite, and sat back, content simply to watch her settle into the seat.

“You’re staring,” she accused without censure.

“Would you prefer that I not?”

If she said yes, he wasn’t prepared to acquiesce anyway.

“No.”

She pursed her lips, waiting.

“Kenton mentioned you had lunch with Alessandra. I assume she told you what happened?”

“Kind of, but there wasn’t a lot of information, to be honest.”

“Which is part of the problem,” he admitted, pausing to thank the waitress as she arrived with their wine. “Laria thinks she’s protecting me by being vague—”

“But you’re used to taking control, so it’s making you crazy.”