~ ~ ~
Connor shifted to recline beside Iris. Dawn wasn’t pressing on him yet, though it would soon. But right now, he didn’t want to leave the garden, or the moment.
He felt profoundly connected to Iris right now. He knew she’d been forced to leave a husband behind when she’d gone through her witch alter. Then her sister had died some time during the first year the two women had come to live in Elegance. Even so, her sadness felt deeper still, though he didn’t know in what way.
His own pain was very different. Yes, he’d buried a wife, but that had been before he’d come to live in Five Bridges.
His remorse and suffering had occurred after his vampire alter and during his work with the Crescent Border Patrol. In the line of duty in one instance and after being abducted and shot up with blood flame in another, he’d ended up hurting and killing a lot of innocent women. Their deaths lived inside him like a wound that could never heal. He wasn’t worthy of a real relationship with Iris or any woman. His time with Iris was a stolen season.
In the last thirty years, since he’d lived in Five Bridges, he’d never experienced anything as profound as what he’d just done with Iris. He had no words. He flexed his right arm. He honestly felt pumped up from her blood.
Christ, the woman’s blood. Witch blood. Full of power. He’d felt the moment as well when he could have kept going and taken her life. Witches might be able to touch vampires and kill them. But once a vampire started to drink, his victim couldn’t stop the process. The vampire had complete control.
That she’d been able to move at all was one more indication of her power as a witch.
His mind spiraled down into the past, to the horrendous witch massacre he’d been part of. Though his memory was spotty because of the level of blood flame he’d been given, he knew the witches had all been tied up so they couldn’t employ their killing power. Reports later indicated most of the women had been drained to death.
He shuddered.
Iris put a hand on his chest. “What’s wrong?”
“The past.”
“Don’t think about it too much, not right now. Plenty of time tomorrow.”
She was right. He had Iris beside her. What else did he need?
He slid his arm beneath her shoulders and she rolled to stretch out alongside him, her arm draped over his stomach. He looked up into the tree. The cat had climbed up as well and sat beside the owl. Each peered down at them.
He chuckled, then without warning his throat grew tight and his eyes started to burn. “This is a stolen season, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
She lifted her face to him and offered a soft smile. He kissed her again, running his hand along the dip of her waist and the curve of her hip. The word ‘love’ rose to his lips. He almost used it, wanting to badly. But it was too soon and most likely, he would never have the chance. There were truths to be spoken and when they were, his time with Iris would end.
His chest felt crushed. He wanted to say something to her, to express his gratitude, but couldn’t. He was feeling too much
Then she spoke several magical words all strung together. “Are you hungry? I mean I know I just fed you, but neither of us has eaten since this whole thing began. I could do sandwiches. I have a nice pumpernickel bread and pastrami. No fancy mustard, though. Oh, and a really strong Stout beer.”
He groaned. “You have no idea how perfect that sounds. I mean it.”
She rose to her feet. She
drew the tank from between her legs, but kept hold of it as she gathered up her own clothes and her gun and holster.
Gaining his feet, he did the same with his belongings then followed after her as she headed to the back door. Along the way, he glanced into her bedroom, really liking that it overlooked the garden as well from a pair of French doors. Glancing up, the spell looked as strong as ever. From his point of view, this would be a solid place to remain through the day.
Once inside, she turned to look at him over her bare shoulder. “I’m going to clean up a little then I’ll be right back.”
“Anything I can do?” he asked. He set his clothes on the couch.
“You’re fine. I’ll only be a couple of minutes. It’ll be quicker if I fix the meal myself.”
“Okay, but let me know if you need anything.”
He put his tank and leathers back on, grateful he had a clean change of clothes for tomorrow. And he’d definitely want to shower before bed.
When Iris returned, he watched a whirlwind whip around the kitchen as she moved from cupboard to fridge to sink and back. Within a couple of minutes, he was chowing down on an excellent sandwich.