Page 62

“Then I shall endeavor to remain alive.”

“Good.”

“Although I make no promises regarding my dignity.”

She laughs.

“Pretty sure that disappeared the moment you discovered Target towels.”

I grin.

“A worthy sacrifice.”

* * *

An hour later, Calla is curled against my chest beneath the soft blanket she insists is ordinary.

I find nothing ordinary about it.

Or her.

Her dark hair spills across my arm. One hand rests over my heart, and her breathing has settled into a slow, peaceful rhythm.

I stroke her back.

She sighs in her sleep.

“Comfortable, darling?”

“Mmm.”

I smile.

“Such eloquence.”

She burrows closer.

I tighten my arm around her.

For the first time in three thousand years, I feel something dangerously close to peace.

Then the room grows cold.

I open my eyes.

The lamps flicker.

A thin layer of frost spreads across the window.

My smile disappears.

“No.”

I reach for the familiar warmth of Calla’s dreaming mind.

Nothing.

I try again.