16. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
Key
The sun shined brilliantly across the wooden path. Waves rose and receded beside the boardwalk, and lush green vegetation hemmed her in on the other side.
The visions had grown fewer and far between, but they repeated the same things over and over again. Death. Life. Defeat. Victory. Her own future was only shown with relation to others—something she’d grown accustomed to in the long years of her life.
Last night, she’d told Jax that they’d been successful in retrieving every single one of the non-rabid wolves at his facility. The lanky teenager had been the first—but certainly not the last. With great pride, she’d shared that the immortals at his facility had been in the best shape. Key knew it was his doing.
Then, she’d fallen asleep beside him on his couch. It wasn’t a new occurrence; Key had found sleeping beside him peaceful. As she had said her goodbyes, he’d asked her to come over earlier today, but hadn’t given a reason.
Jax was like a burning flame on a cold winter’s night: he drew her in and held her in thrall, promising comfort and relief from the elements. Even now, she felt a tug to return to him. A flurry of excitement lodged in her gut at the thought.
She gave in to the pull.
Moments later, her hand was posed to knock on his apartment door. Before she could follow through, it had been tugged open to reveal a surprised-looking werewolf.
“You’re here early.”
Her smile wavered slightly. “Surprisingly, everything I needed to accomplish today is already done. I thought I’d drop by to get a jumpstart on our evening.”
“I’m absolutely okay with that, but fair warning, all is not going according to plan for tonight.”
“Oh?” She looked around. “Where’s Zeus?”
“Enjoying his bone and comfortably settled in the bathroom. He tends to get slobber everywhere if I don’t make sure he’s contained.” Jax closed the door behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. In one fell swoop, he’d drawn her against his body. “I’m glad you’re here, Key.”
And then he kissed her.
Her gasp of surprise was swallowed by his claim. His mouth moved against hers, a sensual caress that was both sweet and utterly possessive. Drunk on the taste of him, she fisted her hands in her shirt, arching her back as the space disappeared between their bodies.
The faintest sliver of a smile curved Key’s lips when they eventually separated. “Your wolf. He’s looking at me again.”
“He’s infatuated with you. So am I.”
She looked away to hide the extent of her reaction. The kitchen was a mess. Every other time she’d come over, it’d been spotlessly clean.
“What’s all this for?”
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Well, I was going to make you a nice dinner as a thank you.”
“For what?”
“For destroying that kennel and getting me back my old post. For doing this thankless job that everyone seems to take for granted or—better yet—get angry at you for.” His teeth ground together. “I had planned to give myself a couple of hours to get everything right.”
“And … is everything going right?”
Jax huffed, the sound sending a spark through Key. “No. I apparently can’t read directions, and I have no idea what it means to ‘fold in’ blueberries to batter. This is like a second language.”
Snickering, she asked, “Don’t you speak four different ones?”
“Languages? Yeah, but this might as well be Klingon.”
Key snorted. “Good thing I’m a closet Trekkie and I’m fluent in Warf’s mother tongue.”
Linking hands, she followed him into the kitchen where a cookbook was laid open on the counter. Admittedly, Key had little experience making food, but she could at least try. Much to her bewilderment, Jax had been telling the truth.
“The title is readable, but everything after that is foreign to me, too.”
A self-deprecating sigh. “So much for a nice surprise. How about we make cookies instead? They’re easier.”
Closing the cookbook with a whiff of temper, Jax opened the fridge. He pulled out a tub of yellow cookie batter and plopped it on the counter.
“You just so happened to have a tub of cookie batter in your fridge?”
“It was my back up to muffins.”
She fought a smile as she pointed across the room. “And that?”
Jax looked at the sink where a pot of something burned beyond recognition floated in sudsy water. “A back up to my back up. What do you think of pizza?”
***
Three trays of cookies and a call to the local pizza place later, Key and Jax snuggled happily together on the couch. His arm draped over her shoulders, and her legs were curled up in his lap. As they watched a knock-off Hallmark movie with the same four tropes as the one they’d fallen asleep to last night, Key began to drift off.
Jax tossed the crust of his fifth piece of pizza back into the empty box. “Definitely ate too much.”
“I had about ten cookies too many,” she agreed.
The classic ‘I love you’ moment, followed by a theatrical kiss, appeared onscreen. To Key, it wasn’t nearly as swoon-worthy as how Jax had greeted her today. Nudging him, she asked, “Have you watched the one where the Snowman is magically turned into a real person and charms the entire town?”
“Absolutely. Five stars.”
Key’s nose scrunched. “Right? Zia and Luna both thought it was too fantastical.”
“Too fantastical, huh?” Scoffing, he argued, “We’re living it. What’s more unbelievable: a snowman becoming real or people who can foresee the future and wield fire? No brainer.”
Resting her head on his shoulder, she felt safe enough for vulnerability. “Sometimes I wish I didn’t have this ability. Sometimes I don’t want to know what lies in store for us.”
“I don’t blame you.” The humor that’d infused his voice only moments ago was stolen and replaced with solemnity. “That’s entirely understandable.”
“You don’t think it’s selfish?”
The arm around her shoulders disappeared as he turned to look her in the eye. “Key, you’ve been having visions for centuries. Forced to live out futures where you watch people you love die. Of course it’s not selfish.”
She cringed. “That’s not true.”
“What isn’t?”
“I never watch the people I love die.” The truth was like poison on her tongue, a secret she could barely stand to acknowledge. “When I was two centuries old, my parents were slain by a group of clanless Raeths. They had been cataloging weaponry— merjhas —at the time and were taken by surprise.”
Throat closing with the emotion welling within her, she admitted, “I never saw it. No flash of a vision to warn me, no foreboding sense of doom. Nothing . Once I could think clearly, I thought it must’ve been a fluke, but as I got older, I realized the truth. A century later, I watched as Azazel, a man I’d come to love, was slain by a rogue shifter. Like the time before, I hadn’t seen even a snippet of that future. He still died, and there was nothing I could do about it.”
As his palm gently cupped her face, she continued, “Jax, I’m blind to those I love. That’s why I’ve always stayed one step apart from people, never truly letting them in. The closer I let someone get, the less chance I’ll have to foresee their future.”
She studied the micro-expressions on Jax’s face as he took it in.
For centuries, Key had been unable to see Luna’s future, and she was nearly blind to Nero’s. Eden’s arrival had helped in that regard. It had evened out Key’s strong relationship with her sovereign enough to see snippets of a future where both could prosper. But the truth remained: seeking visions about those she cared the most about was difficult, if not impossible.
Jax stirred. “Do you find that frightening or comforting?”
“Both,” she replied honestly. “On one hand, it’s a relief: having to watch someone you love die over and over again is a hell all to itself.”
“And on the other?”
“On the other hand, I can never warn them. It’s a curse.”