Chapter 44
Laurie
Arriving home—and wondering when exactly I’d come to think of River’s place as “home”—was more of a comfort than I ever meant for it to be.
More than what I should have allowed. Stepping into the foyer, my heart gave a satisfied sigh and my body untensed, releasing a heaviness I didn’t even know I was carrying until it was gone. I practically melted into the carpet.
River drifted in behind me, shoulders sagging like all of my leftover animosity had been handed over to her.
The hall sconces tinted her skin ivory, but nothing could hide the violet half-moons under her eyes.
Vampires didn’t usually look tired, and I’d spent enough time studying her profile to notice the gradual shift into exhaustion. River was fatigued—infinitely so.
I had my suspicions as to why.
“Sit,” I ordered while she trudged down the hall, nudging her toward the sofa by the indoor pond. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”
To my immense surprise she obeyed without a single playful comment.
She collapsed into the sofa cushions and passed a hand over her eyes, looking more and more tired from every new angle.
It was strange seeing her like this, whittled down to basic motor functions.
It was a sharp, concerning, contrast to her usual lively nature.
A part of me had been dead set on gunning for the guest room the moment we got back, and putting together a plan to hit the organization’s higher ups now that we knew where to find them. But River’s bowed posture made me pause. Something was wearing her down. I suspected that something was me.
While she toed off her boots, I perched on the armrest and studied her.
“You know… I’ve met plenty of vamps with weird abilities.
The Doctor and his electricity, Dylan and her shadows.
I knew a hybrid at the facility who could eat concrete—not that it was a particularly useful quirk.
” When River lifted her head looking more than a little confused, I tilted mine to the side. “So, what’s your party trick?”
She blinked, feigning innocence that wouldn’t fool a goldfish. “Party trick?”
“River.” I crossed my arms. “The longer I’ve been living with you, the better I’ve been feeling.
Meanwhile, you look like you haven’t slept in eons.
” I swept a hand over her and she dropped her gaze while I leaned forward to keep pressing my case.
“Hunter can apparently crack minds. I’m pretty sure at least one of your coven members can turn invisible—every vampire gets a freak-show freebie. So, spill. What’s yours?”
River huffed out a sigh and lowered her head into her hands. “Empathy.”
A disbelieving laugh stuttered out of my mouth. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a superpower.”
She exhaled again, long and resigned, then patted the cushion beside her. I slid down the armrest until my hip bumped against hers.
River kept her eyes fixed on the opposite wall, heavy-lidded gaze tracing patterns in the wallpaper.
“I’m an aura-reader. A mood-smoother, I guess you could say.
I… I can nudge volatile emotions into submission.
Keep nightmares at bay.” She rubbed the back of her neck.
“Makes me a world-class insomniac around traumatized houseguests.”
The words hit like a soft fist to the sternum. All those nights I’d slept through till dawn… “You were awake,” I whispered, “keeping the monsters out of my dreams?”
Her shrug was maddeningly casual. “Small monsters. Fixable problems.”
A hot sting blurred my vision. I blinked hard. “Why? You don’t owe me that.”
River’s gaze flicked up, dark and earnest. “Because I care,” she said simply. “Because I care so much. Because watching you thrash in your sleep ripped me apart. And because you deserve a breather whether you believe it or not.”
I shook my head, hands fisting on my knees. “All this time, you’ve been the one keeping my emotions in check?”
“Not exactly.” River closed a hand over mine, uncurling the fist to lace our fingers. “All I did was smooth out the wrinkles. It was you who let me in. It wouldn’t have worked at all if you hadn’t let down your walls just a little.”
Emotion surged in my chest. Guilt, gratitude, a terrifying swell of tenderness. “You didn’t have to do that. You don’t have to go through all this trouble for me.” I scrubbed a hand over my eyes. “I can’t do anything for you—”
River hushed me by bringing our clasped hands to her lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “It’s not a transaction, Laurie. I wanted to help you. I still do.”
I slipped my hand out of River’s, suddenly too aware of the calluses on my palms and the ink smudges from Hilda’s glitter pen. I tipped my head back, watching the chandelier sway in the draft. “I don’t understand what you even see in me, River. No project is worth this much work.”
Warm fingertips cupped my cheek, turning my face until her dark eyes filled my view.
“When I look at you, I see a kind, beautiful human who got dealt a rotten deck,” she murmured, thumb tracing the harsh line of my jaw.
“I see someone capable and committed, even when she’s falling apart.
I see more strength in you than you’ll ever admit to having, and kindness too—no matter how hard you snarl. ”
Heat climbed my throat. “You see all that in my… aura?”
“I don’t need to read your aura to see it.” River grinned, and the dimples in her cheeks deepened. “Also, that’s not all I can see.” She leaned back abruptly, shoulders shrugging as she released my cheek. “I can kinda see the future too.”
“Wait…” My brows shot up and I straightened up, scanning her face for any trace of sarcasm. “You can see the future and you’re only just telling me this now?”
“It’s not the most reliable gift. It’s more like—pop-ups in my brain. Out-of-order snippets of events that could unfold.” River’s smile tilted, wry and wary. “You know, just… stuff and things.”
I deadpanned at her jumbled explanation. “Stuff and things?”
She waved a dismissive hand and sank back on the sofa. “I’m an empath, not a poet.”
“You’re insufferable,” I grumbled at the floor, then scraped my brain for a better word. “Incorrigible, in fact.”
“Ooh, fancy word.” River grinned back at me and poked at my ribs with one finger.
I rolled my eyes. “No it’s not.”
“It is for someone whose vocabulary is usually limited to ‘bitch’, ‘fuck’ and occasionally ‘goddammit.’” She parroted my voice with irritating accuracy and I shot a glare in her direction.
“Yeah, well.” I jerked back into the sofa cushions beside her with my arms folded tight. “You annoy me enough to bust out the four-syllable insults.”
“Hmm.” River’s grin turned mischievous and she nudged me with an elbow. “You must really like me to put so much effort into your insults.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I shot back, though my lips twitched. “I save the five-syllable ones for special occasions.”
“Uh-huh.” She eased sideways, knee brushing up against mine. “Occasions like last night? You were busting out some pretty impressive statements while my fingers were—”
I hacked out a cough, heat streaking my cheeks a blazing red. “We don’t need to talk about that.”
“I think we do.” River purred the words into my ear and I could have caved right then and there if she hadn’t followed it up with more teasing. “I mean, I’ve heard you raise your voice before but I was really worried you were going to break a window at the rate you were—”
I smacked her thigh and she caught my wrist, grinning like I’d handed her a bouquet. The grin softened when our eyes locked, and suddenly the room felt smaller, quieter.
“About last night…” She lowered our joined hands, thumb stroking my pulse point. Suddenly serious. Somber. I experienced a full cranial meltdown at the intensity in her eyes.
“We… uh.” My words evaporated. My heart galloped so hard I expected her empath gift to demand I pay for the damages.
Her smile gentled. “Before, or I guess, if anything else happens. I want to know where we stand.”
I was too busy drowning in her pupils to register the question. “Huh?”
Her smile tilted, bittersweet. “Last night we crossed a line—I just want to be sure you crossed it with eyes open.”
The memory of silk sheets and gasping breaths flashed hot in my head.
I should have been backing away, or at the very least probing her on her prescience.
I wanted to know what she saw in my future—if she saw a future for me at all.
I should have been berating her for sacrificing her sleep for my sake.
But I also wanted to put my problems aside for a moment, and sink into her arms like I did the night before. I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to hold her and be held in return, even if it was temporary.
I forced my leaden tongue to move and my voice came out strained and hoarse. “My eyes were wide open.”
“Well… Good.” Her tone dropped, velvet over fangs. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about the way you sounded when you—”
I lunged first, kissing her hard enough to halt her mid-sentence. She laughed into my mouth, fingers sliding into my hair as my knees bracketed her thighs. The sofa creaked; koi rippled in the pond like gossiping neighbors.
I shifted, pressing her deeper into the cushions, and whispered against her lips, “Are you still reading my aura?”
“Mmm,” she hummed against my mouth. Her pupils dilated to engulf her irises. “Are you still interested in letting me in?’”
I answered by nipping her lower lip, earning a growl that reverberated through both of us. Our hands roamed—her cool palms skimming under my shirt while my fingertips mapped the slope of her collarbone.
When breathing became necessary we parted an inch, and River’s thumb stroked my jaw, her smile softer now. “We can go slow,” she offered, ever the caretaker.