Chapter 34
VANNA
T he snow is sticking. This is the first time, at least since I’ve been here, where the flakes are beginning to blanket the lawn, trees, and the swing-set Dean built for Ace last Christmas, in pure white.
I smile at the thought of Ace’s excitement, waking up to an actual white Christmas, along with the evidence of Santa’s visit.
Not only because there will be more presents under the tree, but Viking plans to stomp around in his big boots to leave imprints in the snow on our front porch for Ace to discover.
Wrapping the Saviors MC Fleece around myself, I curl up in an Adirondack with my warm mug of chai tea and settle in to watch the snowflakes fall in the night.
I rest my head against the back of the chair and watch the fluffy snowflakes swirl beneath the glow of the floodlight in the backyard.
The crisp silence is so peaceful, and such a contrast to only a few hours ago.
Dean promised we would only have happy memories of Christmas Eve, and tonight was full of laughter, warmth, and the easy kind of chaos that comes with having a house full of bikers and their loved ones.
Everyone had come and gone by now. Everyone, but Legion.
I let out another slow breath and watch the steam curl into the cold air.
It’s only been a day since he stormed out of the Twisted Throttle, but he’s made no attempt to reach out to anyone, not even me.
Every time I think about the exchange between him and Ford Focus, my stomach sinks.
Legion didn’t deserve such terrible treatment, especially not after preventing Ace from getting hurt.
I hate the idea of him sitting alone somewhere, convinced no one is even thinking of him… That no one sees him trying… I see it.
I remove the little wrapped box from my pocket and place it on the side table to my left. Legion isn’t coming. He may have even left for good… And the sorrow the thought stirs inside me mixes with the guilt nagging at my conscience.
As the temperature continues to drop, I wrap myself tighter in the blanket and close my eyes. What had started off as puffy snowflakes for the first while are becoming a bit icier, and now sound faintly like falling sand.
I don’t hear the crunch of footsteps in the snow until they are a few yards before me. This time, I’m not startled by his abrupt presence when he approaches from the darkness. I’m relieved, and happier to see him than I should admit.
“I didn’t think you were going to make it tonight,” I say.
Legion stops walking when he reaches the foot of the porch steps in front of me, a light dusting of snow coating the shoulders of his leather jacket, and the hood pulled up over his head.
“Were you hoping I would?” he asks, though I’m not able to detect whether his words were spoken in sarcasm or sincerity.
“I didn’t even hear your bike pull up out front… How come you didn’t ring the front doorbell?”
“I ordered a ride. They dropped me at the end of your driveway… And, the science of silence , sweet one, dictates as a general rule that the atmospheric conditions of this cold night have increased the air density, which in turn makes it harder for soundwaves to travel…” I can almost make out the playfully sarcastic little sneer on his mouth as he explains the effect of snow and the absorption of sound.
“Thank you, professor . I think I understand,” I smirk back at him. “Let’s skip to the last question, please.”
His cockiness seems to dissipate a bit. “I debated whether or not to disrupt your night.” He removes something from beneath his leather jacket, holding it in front of himself awkwardly within his gloved hands.
It’s a flat box, packaged in what looks like shiny black wrapping paper with gold ribbon and a matching bow.
“I was going to leave this for you to find…”
“You got me a Christmas gift?”
“Yule… Christmas… I have… And something for Ace, as well… You can tell him it’s from Old Saint Nick , if you…do not wish for him to know I ?—”
“Damien…” I sigh. His sudden awkwardness is such a contrast from his usual demeanor, it tugs at my heart.
His chin lifts from beneath the hood, and I know he’s looking at me more intently now.
I wonder if he’s afraid I’m going to tell him to get lost and take his gifts with him.
“Come up here, get out of the snow before I have to tell Ace you’re Frosty the Snowman. ”
Legion walks up the steps and comes to stand before me, pushing back his hood as he hands me the prettily wrapped gift.
The weight of the box surprises me, and I rest it against my lap.
It looks like a box that might contain a set of pretty gloves and a scarf, but whatever is inside is far heavier than any type of clothing accessory he might have purchased.
“Would you like to sit down?” I nod to the other Adirondack beside me.
Wordless, he takes a seat, spotting the little gift-wrapped box on the table between us. He clears his throat before saying, “I’m sure it will pale in comparison to whatever Keegan gifted you in that little jewelry box, but… I do hope you like it, just the same.”
I suppress a smile at his assumption about the gift I actually got for him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait until Christmas morning?”
He slowly shakes his head. “I think I would like to see you open it.”
“I’ve always favored Christmas Eve, anyway.” I smile at him, curious as to what he could have possibly gotten for me.
“The festive spirit… Time spent with the chosen… The heavy dose of anticipation?” he smiles back.
“There is an energy on Christmas Eve. It builds from the beginning of Yuletide. You don’t feel it?”
“I do, this night… Open it.” He cocks his chin at the gift in my lap.
I carefully untie the gold ribbon, peeling the thick cellophane wrapping back carefully. After lifting the top of the box off, I place it beside me on the table and unfold the tissue paper within to reveal a round, black disc.
“A scrying mirror?”
“Obsidian, yes,” Legion replies. “We conversed about them once.”
I glance up at him curiously. “We did?”
“That night…on the pier…” his tone seems a bit more deflated in a way.
I try to think back to what our conversation could have been three years ago.
“I’d asked if you’d ever used one.”
“I haven’t.”
“I know. You said they were very expensive… Well, now you don’t have to worry about it.”
“Damien…” I don’t know what else to say. Refusing his gift might hurt or offend him, but a real Obsidian scrying mirror, bigger than my face, certainly was expensive. I run my fingers across the smooth surface. “You didn’t have to do this…”
“You have nothing to fear, you know.”
When I peer up at him quizzically, he lets out another defeated sigh.
“You told me you were afraid of what you might see… There is no real darkness within you, sweet one.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“You’d never harm anyone, unless it was in defense of a loved one… That doesn’t count .”
“Well, thank you… This was very…thoughtful, Damien… And a little ironic.”
“Ironic?”
After wrapping the Obsidian scrying mirror safely in its box for now, I lift the much smaller giftbox from the table between us and hold it out to him.
“This is actually for you.” I smile.
His eyes widen in genuine surprise, but he doesn’t move to take it.
“It’s not a bomb…or a… body part .” I almost wince through my own halfhearted attempt at a dark joke.
Timorously, he finally takes the little box from me, resting it against his knee.
I hadn’t anticipated she would give me something. And although I am, for the most part, pleasantly surprised… A part of me…the broken, pessimistic part of me fixates on the fact that the only other women in my life to have ever gifted me anything eventually plunged a knife through my heart.
I force myself to chuckle at her pointed comment and proceed to open her gift. Lifting the necklace by its tightly braided leather cord, I inspect the dangling pendant in the light emanating through a window behind us.
A raw black tourmaline crystal set in silver with an accent stone which looks to be a polished quartz, or perhaps Selenite. It’s difficult to identify in this low light. I rest the pendant in my hand, brushing a thumb over the small stone.
“Is this polished one quartz?”
“Rose quartz,” she says, as if such a stone bears no significance at all.
I swallow before I speak, “Rose quartz… for?”
“Love.” Again, she replies as if the word doesn’t carry weight or worth.
“… Love?”
“I thought you could use some fluffier energies around you.”
“Ah…” I nod, patting myself on the back for disallowing my emotions to get the better of me in her presence.
“You don’t like it?” The hint of disappointment in her tone jabs at something inside of me, and my mind races to find the words to fix it while she goes on. “It’s okay if you don’t… I just thought that?—”
“ I do like it … I simply did not expect it.”
“Oh… Well… I picked it up at that little shop in Southport,” she chuckles, “Actually, we bumped into each other right outside it. Laura and Ethan were with me… I got you this as well.” She produces a small glass bottle. “In case you ever want to try again.”
“Try again?” I ask, twisting in my seat to get a better look at the label in the light through the window. Mullen, for detoxification of the lungs… I immediately recall her arms wrapped around me the night she insisted I mattered…
“So, you saw this and instantly thought of me, did you?” I attempt to pull the shielding cloak of arrogance around me once again. “And such a distance to travel. I am touched, Vanna.”
Her gaze lowers from mine. “For a moment there, I thought you were serious. You don’t have to be a dick about it.”
Fuck… Too far.
“I’m not… I…I mean, I am… serious . Not a dick… Although I suppose that’s highly subjective…” Blundering idiot . “My apologies, sweet one. I am simply not accustomed to receiving gifts. It’s been quite a while… The better part of a decade, in fact...”