Chapter 25
Luther
Boston always thrummed like an exposed nerve.
Even sealed inside a private car with tinted windows and reinforced wards humming softly beneath the leather seats, I felt it: the press of humanity, ambition, and memory.
It scraped at instincts I had honed centuries ago.
I did not like cities that believed themselves invincible.
They were so bright and glittery, with so many dazzling lies; I much preferred the quiet simplicity of my home in the Hollow.
Still, I was relieved to have Jade away from Hillcrest Hollow.
Danger lingered there like rot beneath fresh paint, and though the town had rallied admirably, I hated leaving her within reach of something that tore knowledge apart with teeth and claws—literally, in this case—though, in a way, the passage of time had done the same to our memories, long as they were.
Bringing her here felt like trading one threat for another, but at least this one I understood intimately.
The local covens would not bother us if we were just passing through, and I very much intended for this to be a simple trip.
No special visits, no talking to vampires stuck in their little, decadent bubbles.
On the flight, we’d each done some reading, but we’d also talked.
She didn’t like discussing her past life here in the city, but she’d offered me glimpses when I gently prodded.
About growing up as a surprise kid to much older parents, and how strict they’d been about which friends she could play with, how she’d retreated into a world of books because those were the friends you could always rely on.
Then she’d smiled at me and told me about Maggie, the roommate she had in college.
“You would hate her, I think,” she had told me, with a twinkle in her eye.
“She’s a very free spirit.” I couldn’t immediately picture my sweet librarian being best friends with a girl who thought dancing naked under the moon was fun, and who majored in art and mathematics at the same time, because those things were fun too.
In a way, it made sense too, and when I thought about that, I knew I could not hate this Maggie.
She had made Jade happy, that was good enough for me.
Jade had turned into a sometimes fierce, sometimes shy, and always a little bookish librarian, and I loved every part of her—including the parts Maggie had a hand in shaping.
Right now, she was exchanging rapid-fire banter with Belfry, who was berating the architecture.
She had a dozen little facts and tidbits of knowledge that would somehow manage to catch my bat by surprise.
Sometimes, it even made him laugh or begrudgingly admit that that part didn’t suck if that was the case.
On the plane, she’d also told me a little more about David.
About his smile and his ego, which, according to her, was quite sizable, and I readily believed that.
She told me how her rejection of him had curdled into entitlement, and entitlement into retaliation.
The more she spoke, the more carefully I folded my rage away, layer by layer, like a blade returned to its sheath.
A man should know how to take rejection with grace; David clearly did not.
He had turned his power on her and tried to ruin her life, and the brightness of her future.
Those were the parts Jade hadn’t expressed: how she’d been forced to live off her savings as she job-hunted and got nothing but no after no.
She had not said how desperate it was, but I knew, and now, I was ever so grateful that Grandma Liz had somehow found her and brought her to Hillcrest Hollow, to me.
Belfry, perched dramatically atop the privacy divider, sniffed.
You can say all you want about the architecture, Jade, but this city still stinks.
A lot. It smells like ambition and burnt coffee; an utterly vile combination.
He wrinkled his nose and flicked his ears, and I was tempted to suggest he might have gone without sleep a little too long.
Jade laughed softly beside me, and the sound eased something tight in my chest. She’d been one bristling ball of tension by the time we’d gotten off the plane. Belfry’s whining had relaxed her, though, and I was very glad to see it.
When the car pulled up to the hotel, she stared. “Luther,” she said slowly, “this place has its own doorman and a fountain.” She turned huge eyes on me, as if she fully believed this was one massive mistake.
I sniffed and wrinkled my nose in the exact same way Belfry had a moment ago.
“I like sleeping well when I travel,” I replied mildly.
“And their security is impeccable.” That had been the most important aspect of picking this hotel.
I wanted to make sure she would be safe if I needed to leave her by herself.
It helped that I happened to know the owner of this hotel, and he owed me a few favors.
After all, he would not be the proud owner of a real, never-recovered Picasso if not for me.
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not leaving me alone here while you run errands.” Ah, she was too sharp, she knew exactly why I’d gone with this hotel. Clever girl. The last thing I wanted was to leave her side; however, if I did, I’d know she’d be safe here.
I smiled at her, unrepentant. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Belfry snorted, as if he didn’t believe me, and I shot him a glare. He didn’t heed it, but made a face at Jade that clearly tried to imply I was a liar. I did not appreciate it, but he didn’t care about that either.
“We’re here together,” she said firmly. “On business. I want this done so I can get back to my library.” Back to Hillcrest Hollow, to the library. Her library, that wasn’t a slip of the tongue, she meant that, she’d come to see the old building next to my shop as hers. I liked that very much.
“To your library,” I murmured as we were escorted inside.
I had my hand on the small of her back and was carefully watching the bellhop as he loaded our luggage onto his cart to bring up to our room.
Jade tucked close, her scent in my nose and possession racing through me, primal instinct rearing its head at hearing those words.
She paused mid-step, and I slid my hand farther around her middle, holding her to me, urging her forward. “What?” she asked, confused. I loved the way her eyes clung to mine and then dropped to my mouth. We were close, and she was clearly very much aware of that fact.
“You said my library,” I pointed out, a smile pulling at the corner of my mouth.
“I was under the impression this was a temporary assignment.” Not that I wanted her to leave, I was merely testing the waters, trying to figure out if she was beginning to see this mate bond as real.
I wanted very much for her to want to stay, and I had not been blind to the fact that she’d felt some resistance to our mating.
But if she didn’t want it, the bond couldn’t have formed, I knew that much.
It was what I told myself when I caught her looking at the mate mark with a worried frown last night.
She considered what she’d said, her brow making this cute little furrow at the center of her forehead. “It was supposed to be a job I’d leave when I finished it. But restoring that collection?” Her lips curved, and the smile she gave me took my breath away. “I’m pretty sure it’ll take a lifetime.”
I couldn’t stop myself. “Good thing you’ll have several,” I said, just as I swung open the door to our room.
I expected her to stare at the interior, maybe be a little surprised by the luxury, but she stopped walking entirely.
Pausing in the doorway, I turned back to look at her and discovered she had this fierce expression on her face.
It made my gut twist with desire, pulsing heat through my veins.
My cock hardened in my pants in a flash, surprising me with the sharpness of my sudden arousal.
She was simply so sweet, so pretty, and adorable, trying to glare at me like I’d shredded her most comfortable bra again.
“Explain,” she demanded, her hands on her hips, her stance wide like a warrior. I turned to face her fully and reached to take her hand, drawing her into the room so we’d have privacy. The hallway was empty, but that didn’t mean there were no ears.
“The mating bond doesn’t just tie desire,” I said to her.
She came on light feet, following me into the room with her eyes locked on my face.
She was oblivious to the expensive Aubusson rug, the late eighteenth-century golden mirror, the Chesterfield couches, and the widescreen TV that took up most of one wall.
Those weren’t things she cared about anyway, I knew that, but I liked having all of her attention.
“It binds lifeforces. Fates. I told you there was no going back,” I said.
She tried to glare; it looked to me like she tried very hard, and failed. The heat thrumming through her veins sang to me, bright and undeniable. She was overwhelmed but happy. She could not help but feel the same about me as I did about her.
I pulled her into my arms, my hand curving instinctively over the silver wash of moonlight along her ribs, the mark that tied us together across centuries.
“We are perfect together,” I murmured. “And I will spend all my life proving it.” Then, reluctantly, I glanced at the clock.
What I had planned should not have a time limit, but in this case, it must. “We have an hour before the meeting.”
Belfry squawked indignantly and leaped from my shoulder to flutter through the sunlit room. I am taking a nap and absolutely not listening to whatever comes next. He fled into the open bathroom to hide.