Black bird a nevermore d.., p.29
Black Bird: A Nevermore Duet, page 29
“Is she a suspect?” Sarah asked. “Didn’t you say you were there to talk to her that night before I’d even left?”
“Yeah, I was.”
“How does she tie in with all of this?” Wren pressed further.
“We’re not really sure yet. There’s been a pretty decent transfer of funds between her and Conrad Stratford. That’s all we really know. Could be unrelated, but I think what Rhaena was trying to say was that they’ve been laying pretty low themselves, since …” He glanced at Wren.
“We get it,” Wren said, lowering her gaze to her lap.
“So, nothing other than bank transfers?” Sarah asked.
“Pretty much,” Rhaena finally said, feeling rather rotten about dropping the name. “Sometimes these cases have their lulls. Really nothing we can do but wait until we get another bite on our line.”
It seemed enough to satisfy both the girls … for now. Sarah reached forward, closing up the empty cardboard boxes, and raising herself off the floor. Rhaena watched Athan’s eyes trail her the entire way to the kitchen.
“Rhaena, is it cool if I shower first?” Wren asked, moving Denver off her lap.
“Yeah, just leave me some hot water.” Rhaena nodded as Wren disappeared down the hall.
“That’s a good idea, actually. I’ll haul these down the garbage chute and check on Poe.” Sarah raised the empty boxes at them and Athan offered her a slight smile. “Night, Rhaena,” she said, turning and heading out of the apartment.
“Night,” Rhaena replied, waiting until the door closed, and water started running down the hallway. “You still haven’t told her.”
Athan stared at the closed front door. “No.”
“You know that eventually this little fairytale is gonna end, right? Either something will happen, or you’re gonna cross that line you’ve drawn and shit’s gonna hit the fan.” She propped her head up on her hand.
“I know.”
Rhaena knew it was hard on him. This whole ordeal had been tough, but every day that passed … she could tell he was steadily falling for Sarah. “Do you love her?” she asked quietly. He didn’t move. Refused to acknowledge the question. “Just because it’s quiet doesn’t mean they’re not out there plotting more shit. As many cases as we’ve been on, you know that as well as I do.”
“I do,” he said, finally looking at her. She’d never seen that look before. Not ever. There was a long pause and his chest seemed to move quicker. “Love her.”
She couldn’t help but feel a dull sting when he’d admitted it. “Then be fair to her, Athan. I really don’t want this to blow up in your face. I wanna see you happy.”
“I hurt her once.” His jaw clenched and he swallowed. “She suffered so much because of me. I don’t wanna do it again.”
Rhaena offered him a tight smile. “Lemme tell you a little secret about women, Kane. We’re tough.”
“I’ll lose her.”
“I don’t think you will. We’re tough. We just wanna hear you say it. We want to be let in. You tell her the truth … she’ll be pissed, yeah. She might walk out of here and tell you she never wants to see you again, but it’ll be the farthest thing from the truth. Just the fact that you were willing to be that vulnerable will stick with her. Especially if she loves you back.”
“How will I know?” His eyes were so desperate. So worried.
Rhaena smiled at him then. “You already do, bud.”
Athan kept quiet as he locked the door behind him and crept into his apartment. The sound of the shower wasn’t present, but Sarah wasn’t in the living room. The kitchen was clear, and still smelled like burnt food … but she’d cleaned that too. The pan was drying on a small towel next to the sink, the spatula next to it. No sign of the pathetic excuse for the human food he’d tried to impress her with. As house guests went, he supposed he had a good one. It had been effortless … her practically living with him these past two weeks. Effortless except that he died not touching her every time he saw her. Rhaena had called him out twice now. There wasn’t any reason he could find to deny that what he felt was genuine and not just because he’d marked her.
He’d thought of little else these days, especially after the things they’d done with each other … the things she’d done to him. He had let her. That morning had changed everything. His adult life had been spent pleasing women for money. He’d been good at it. It was never about him, and he’d never felt comfortable letting anyone touch him without having some sort of connection. It only got worse when Dahlia had shackled him to her and forced him to allow her to do all of the things that had him screaming inside. He hated every moment of it. When Sarah had touched him … especially below the waist, he thought his heart might explode. It didn’t only shock him at how absolutely divine she’d felt … but the fact that he’d wanted her to. Wanted it so badly he was certain he’d damn his own rules to hell and let her take him wherever she wanted.
The fact … that she’d only wanted to please him. To make him feel good. To feel anything … he still didn’t know what to do with it. All these years it had solely been for the needs of whoever was under him, and nothing more.
Nothing more …
The words rang in his head that they’d let hang in the silence as they’d slept that night. That invitation … that lingering question. Rhaena had said he already knew. She had been right. Sarah practically told him what he felt was reciprocated the night she laid on his chest. But would she still feel anything when he told her the heavy truth that had been weighing him down ever since he’d punctured her neck? He supposed he was about to find out.
“Sarah?” he called softly, making his way down the hall to the cracked doorway of his bedroom.
“I’m in here,” she replied. His heart thundered and he creaked the door the rest of the way open—God was surely punishing him. There she stood, hair still wet, running a fingertip over spines of books along his shelves in a black satin nightgown lined with lace that was cut mid-thigh. He nearly choked on his own oxygen. Poe ruffled his feathers on her shoulder, greeting him as he stood speechless in the doorway, his hand still on the knob. She turned her face toward him and smiled … those eyes … those fucking eyes. “Hey.”
Athan cleared his throat, dropping his hand and leaning in the doorway. “Hey.” He crossed his arms.
“You do know that you’re sitting on a gold mine, right?” She pointed at the bookshelf with her thumb. “You have so many first editions in here.”
“I’m a collector. Don’t tell anyone and it’ll remain a gold mine.” He smirked. Sarah snorted and rolled her eyes, turning back toward the books.
“You gonna try to tell me you haven’t read every single one?”
“No, I have. Most of them several times.” He watched her skim across titles, moving up a shelf to where the figurine he’d bought from Wren’s tattoo shop sat in front of a cluster of really old books. She scooted it over and pulled a worn, black leather binding with no title. His stomach flipped.
“Do you mind if I read one or two? I’ll be careful.” She handled the delicate book carefully and he swallowed, nodding his response. She flipped it open, her eyes widening when she glanced at the aged, yellowed parchment on the inside. “Holy shit … this is handwritten.” She glanced up. “What is this?”
Athan shrugged, dismissing it and stepping into the room toward his dresser, turning his back and opening the third drawer to gather clean clothes. “You should read it.” He hardly registered what he was doing as he peeled the shirt over his head and tossed it into the basket by the closet door. She went wholly still behind him. Athan gripped the small pile of clothes in his hand, a deep nervous feeling sinking into his middle when he remembered what was tattooed on his breast. He tried to appear calm and tipped his chin over his bare shoulder. “Sorry … I wasn’t—” He swallowed. “Wasn’t thinking.” He could feel her scanning every inch of his naked back.
“No, umm … this is your room. Your house. I’ll give you some privacy.” Sarah’s voice shook and she made to move toward the bedroom door.
“Wait—” He paused … so did she. Poe trilled. “You can um … you can stay.” He side-stepped to the bathroom door just beside the dresser and walked in, closing it behind him. He turned the fan on and loosed a long breath, pulling his hands through his hair and leaning back against the door. He thought about every possible angle of approaching this blow. This blow that would no doubt take her from him. Thought about it as the water ran over him in the shower. Thought about the possibility that when he delivered that blow, there was likely a chance she’d never join him in here. If he let her see the tattoo, it would raise questions … maybe he could ease into it that way.
Maybe he could just get the shock of it over with and grab one of those blood bags. Empty it into his mouth in front of her and answer all the burning questions after she was scared enough to run from him. He wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready to see the look on her face. The pain in those gorgeous eyes at every betrayal of the trust they were slowly building. As selfish as it was … he thought about kissing her. What if that was the only time she’d ever let him? Athan toweled off and talked himself out of exposing his chest, his white t-shirt and black sweats revealing only what she’d already seen of him. He stepped back out of the bathroom, steam rolling out with him.
Sarah was stretched out across the bed, laying on her stomach and sucked deeply into the small black book. Poe had found himself choosing the perch stand Athan had in the corner by the floor lamp. “Listen to this,” she said without looking up, both her bare feet crossed in the air behind her. “There was no greater evil, than the darkness of this night … when life was yet a whisper as that evil thieved the light. But my skin was still a prison … a bird denied his flight.” Her slender inked finger trailed across the words on the page and her body slumped, her busy feet slowly falling back to the duvet. She stared down at it … he stared at her.
“As the sun took back its triumph over waves that churned the sea … it was then I thought I heard her as Death whispered then to me … be dark, my lonely captive … until the murder sets you free.” He dropped his dirty clothes into the basket on the floor and she met his eyes.
“This is …” Sarah paused, reading his face. His heart thrashed. “This is yours.” He nodded slowly, his jaw clenching. “It’s so … sad.”
“Sarah … I—” He swallowed, feeling as if he could vomit. “I’m …” His breathing staggered and he knew she’d noticed it. He had to get it out now before he couldn’t do it at all. She closed the journal and slid it aside, moving off the bed and stepping toward him. He raised a shaking hand to stop her, but before he could even form another thought Sarah slid her hands on each side of his face and her mouth met his … strong, and yet gentle. Demanding … but perfect. Slow … thorough … fucking perfect. She lingered on his mouth, his chest heaving up and down. Adrenaline warred with a calm he’d never felt before in his life. They shared shaking breaths and stared into each other for a heartbeat that seemed like an eternity.
“I don’t care what it is, Athan.” Sarah breathed against his mouth. “If this is all you can give me right now, I’ll take it. If this is all it ever is, I’ll take it.”
The tether he’d been clinging to snapped. He wrapped an arm around her waist, taking the side of her face in his other hand and kissing her back, deeply. So deep he thought he’d drown in her—and die happily. He was sure he’d lose all control when he tasted her tongue as it slipped into his mouth, and while every part of him wanted to, he found himself absolutely content with not ripping off that lacy night thing and burying himself inside her perfect body. Athan pressed her closer to him, devouring every part of her mouth, her jawline … her mostly healed neck where a dark scar was left behind.
Her fingers twined through his hair, gently tugging and she whimpered a bit when he kissed over the mark she had no idea he’d claimed her with. He wouldn’t take her tonight. He may never take her at all. At least he’d had this, and at least there was control enough within him to make this last however long she wanted it to. His hands braced her thighs, and he lifted her up, Sarah’s arms and legs coiling around him as he walked them over to his bed and laid her down beneath him. She held his face, and he pressed his head against hers, their breathing frantic and shallow.
“I can’t go much further …” He rasped, pained and breathless.
“This is more than enough,” Sarah assured, leaning up to kiss him again. They continued that way for a couple of hours … maybe it was more. Maybe it had only been five minutes. He didn’t care anymore. All he knew right now was the feel of her body, her hands up his shirt, the taste of her … the way she felt under his palms, her scent … that smart mouth.
As they finally laid facing each other, legs tangled and bodies pressed together, Athan pressed a kiss to her palm as she trailed across his bottom lip with her thumb. Their eyes finally met, and they fell into a different kind of stare. One they’d never shared before now. “Until the murder sets you free …” Sarah whispered, tracing the lines of his face. His fingers grazed over her wrist, and he dropped his eyes to her neck. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t mean actual murder?”
“Because I didn’t.”
She quieted for a moment, leaning into his touch as he splayed his hand across her lower back. “A bird denied his flight … it’s a murder of crows.”
He took a long moment before answering. “Yes.”
“A prison …” She pulled him closer, his face resting beneath her chin. “Crows gather and decide the fate of one of their own.”
“Sarah …” Athan whispered against her skin, lightly kissing it, and tightening his arms around her. He closed his eyes, breathing her in … and left them closed.
“Whoever hurt you … I’ll never let them do it again,” she breathed. Athan smiled against her.
“You gonna whack them with your spatula?” He chuckled through his nose. She giggled and slapped the back of his shoulder. “I don’t need protecting. That’s my job.” They quieted, growing more and more still. “You’re the only gold mine in this room, Sarah.” The way she clutched him to her let him know that she knew he didn’t mean the strange blood she had running through her veins.
They didn’t move. Poe remained quiet, resting on his perch by the sliding glass door. He was somewhere between sleep and awake and wasn’t sure if he had imagined it when he heard her whisper something he’d only prayed he’d hear her say. Not wanting to risk being drunk on that kiss that he could still taste on his mouth, he said nothing … and when sleep found him tonight, it was the most peaceful he’d ever felt.
CHAPTER 12
BROKEN
When morning broke over Boston, Sarah was still in the comfort of his arms. It hadn’t been a dream, then. It was all real … had actually happened. She’d claimed that mouth … those lips. He’d finally let her. She wouldn’t let herself feel guilty for overstepping that line that he had treaded so carefully. He needed it as much as she had. Needed her as much as she’d needed him. She’d almost forgotten what she’d said to him last night, and wondered if he had even heard her, or if she’d been a complete fool for saying it if he didn’t feel the same way. She swore he’d tightened his hold on her, just slightly, when she breathed those three words against his hair. She wasn’t going to ask about it. She had already gone farther than either of them could come back from now.
It was difficult not to imagine what kind of shit he must have gotten himself into to write something as heartbreaking as what she’d read in that book last night. She had so many questions. Sarah drew back, taking in his face as he slept. That book looked so old. The pages were yellowed, and the handwriting was impeccable. Like it had been written with an old dip pen. Maybe it had just been stored carelessly and had gotten damaged. There weren’t any dates on any of those pages. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it, but he did tell her to read the damned thing. His intention was confusing, but there was nothing confusing about the way he’d kissed her back. The way he had been so careful with her while they worshiped each other’s mouths on this bed … for hours.
It wasn’t a secret that Sarah was a little crazy in the bedroom. She’d often scared the shit out of Brent, and a few others that she’d had relationships with in the past. Ran off two or three of them, in fact. But last night … that had been something entirely different. Maybe it was different for Athan too, if Rhaena had warned her to sink her teeth into a bit if they wound up going at it the night she’d initiated that romp on the couch. This wasn’t her style, but she couldn’t deny how beautiful this man was that laid next to her … and what he did to that pounding flesh in her chest. Sarah reached for her phone, sliding her thumb across the screen and snapping a photo of him. She smiled to herself as she tapped the edit button and set it as his contact picture. His eyes peeled open.
“What are you doing …” Athan’s voice was a low groan with sleep as he glared at her.
“I never bought a wig. This will do.” She grinned. His hand shot for the phone, and she jerked it away, letting go and biting her lip as it flew behind her through the bedroom doorway and into the hall. “Oh … drat.” She shrugged, her smug smirk still on her face. He moved his body over hers, pinning her to the bed, strands of his hair falling into his fierce blue eyes. God, he was stunning.
“I’m deleting that.” He purred, making to leave the bed.
“Oh, I don’t think so. That’s mine, now. You have one. It’s only fair.” She raised her knees on either side of him and he stilled. They stared for a moment. “Athan …”
“Mmm?” He groaned, his breathing starting to build and his throat bobbing.
“I—I’m sorry … that I … if I crossed—” He cut her off, lowering his mouth to hers. Sarah arched her back from the bed, taking his face into her hands again. His hips pressed into hers and she pressed back, sliding her heel over the back of his leg. This kiss was deeper … way more intense … fucking smoldering. Sarah slid her hands down his sides, grabbing for the hem of his shirt. Athan growled into her mouth.
