“We should still try.”
He squeezed my waist, then took my hand and led me to the dance floor, where other couples were starting to sway to the music as well. I danced with him, loving the feel of being in his arms, his strong shoulder under my hand, his fingers twining with those of my other hand. I loved the way he leaned down and nuzzled the side of my neck.
“If you don’t stop that I’m going to drag you into our room one last time,” I whispered.
“We should have another go on the roof before we move out, too,” he murmured, and I blushed. Our roof had seen more than a little action in the past couple of weeks. We’d broken the glider, and Nain promised me he’d get it fixed.
I kissed his throat as the song ended, and then we both started trying to be good hosts, talking to the people who had come to Ada and Stone’s reception. Of course, any gathering of supernaturals is an opportunity for politics, and this was no different. Shifters and witches who were maybe not as high up in our hierarchy as Nain, Brennan, Rayna, Jamie, and I seemed, already, to always be trying to work their way up, as if leadership of Detroit’s supernatural community was something to aspire to. I spent the next hour and a half listening to people complain. I promised meetings. I answered questions. When I finally freed myself from an especially irritating conversation with an older warlock, I looked for a quiet corner to hide in.
Ugh. Socializing. This so wasn’t my thing.
I looked toward the living room, which was quieter than the dance floor and where the tables were set up. There were folding chairs there, too, arranged in small groups for conversation. Brennan sat in the corner, Sean on his lap. I glanced toward the dance floor, where Nain was dancing with Ada. I caught his eyes and glanced toward Brennan, and he nodded.
I walked over to Brennan and Sean and sat down in the chair next to him. I kicked the torturous heels off and tucked my feet under the chair, barely suppressing a sigh.
“It was a nice wedding, huh? I’ve never been to one before,” I said. Sean dozed against Brennan’s chest.
“It was nice. They looked happy,” he said. I sensed for him. Nervousness. Sadness. Guilt.
“No date?” I asked him, and he shook his head, met my eyes.
“I’m taking a break. I think that’s for the best,” he said, and I didn’t know how to respond to that.
We sat in awkward silence for a few minutes. “I’m surprised you’re talking to me,” he said finally.
I glanced over at him. “Did you think I would give you the silent treatment forever?” I asked him.
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”
I sighed. “I have a hard time being mad at you. I mean, maybe someone saner than I am would look at everything that’s happened and wonder why I haven’t killed you yet.”
“I have wondered that myself,” he said, and I was happy to see a little bit of a smile on his lips.
“I can’t hate you, Bren. Not for the witch, not for Sean. Not even for telling Ross and his guys about me.” Agent Ross, who headed a special division of the Department of Homeland Security that was specifically tasked with watching supernaturals and responding to the chaos that had erupted because of Strife. Brennan’s boss. “Like you said: I save the world my way, and you save it yours.”
He was quiet for a minute. “So you get that none of what we had was a lie, right?”
I nodded. “I know.”
He took a deep breath, and I felt relief roll off of him. “Good.”
“Why did that relieve you so much?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Because if you actually believed that I didn’t really love you, that would only make you doubt yourself more, and that’s the last thing you should do. And I was crazy in love with you and it matters that you know that.”
“I do.”
“Why the change of heart?” he asked me.
I shrugged. “Look how crazy everything has been. How many we’ve lost.” I shook my head, ended up looking over at him and meeting his eyes. “Life is too short and too insane to stay mad at the people you care about. And no matter what else happened, you were there for me when no one else was. I mean, I’m not ready to start hanging out or anything like that, but I’m sick of losing people. And I’m sure the hell not going to lose someone who’s still alive and well.”
He just stared at me. “Who are you and what have you done with Molly?”
I laughed, and after a couple of seconds, he joined in.
I glanced around, saw that Nain was on his phone. He hung up and started walking toward me and Brennan. He leaned down.
“We have to take off, baby,” he said.
“What’s going on?” I asked, standing up. Brennan stood up too, shifting his hold on Sean.
“That was one of the Delray shifters. Apparently the whole fucking neighborhood just disappeared.”
“What do you mean, disappeared?” I asked him.
“I mean it’s gone. Nothing there, like the Earth just swallowed it up. That’s what he says, anyway.’
I watched as Brennan and Nain exchanged a glance. “Hopefully he’s been hitting the bottle again,” Brennan said, and Nain let out a grunt of agreement.
“That’s what I’m hoping. With all the other weird shit going on, I doubt it, though,” Nain said.
Brennan gestured to Artemis, and she walked over, took Sean. “I’m coming too. Can you watch him, Artemis?” he asked, and the immortal nodded and took Sean from him.
Within a few minutes, we were heading out of the loft, still dressed in our wedding clothes, heading for a neighborhood that no longer existed.
Read more in
Coming Fall 2014!
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Colleen Vanderlinden is the author and publisher of the
Hidden
series, which currently includes
Lost Girl
,
Broken
, and
Home
. She lives in the Detroit area with her husband, children, and two lazy cats. She enjoys reading, obsessing over comic book characters, gardening, and playing
World of Warcraft
.
Learn more about Colleen at her website,
http://www.colleenvanderlinden.com
, contact her via email at
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Book Four: Strife
Book Five: Nether
- Available Fall 2014
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