Trace lay propped on his elbow, watching Cordray sleep. It had been two days since the fire. Two days since he’d said good-bye to his mother. It seemed like a lifetime.
Then again, every minute spent with Cordray felt like a lifetime, but in the most glorious way.
Micah and Sam had agreed to take the kids for the day, allowing him and Cordray much-needed alone time with one another, especially since it felt like his calling was on the verge of blowing wide open any moment. They hadn’t had ten minutes to themselves since moving the kids, Mya, and Brenna into Cordray’s North Shore mansion, and Trace had been nearly volcanic in his need to claim her before Mya and Brenna had left with the kids this morning.
They’d spent all day in bed. First they’d fucked. Then made love. Then fucked some more. Until finally they’d fallen into an exhausted, sated sleep.
Now Trace was awake, needing her again, but wanting to watch her sleep even more. She was so beautiful as she slept. Peaceful. Angelic. Her black and blue hair tousled and strewn like silky tendrils over the pillow.
She lay on her back, angled toward him, with her forearm over her stomach.
He leaned in and kissed the expanse of skin along her collarbones, leaving a soft, tender trail from right to left. Then pulled back and waited, smiling as she inhaled deeply.
Her eyes fluttered open a couple of seconds later, and she smiled when her gaze met his.
“Do you mind?” She stretched out beside him like a giant cat, lithe and sleek, rolling to face him. “How many times are you going to do that while I’m sleeping?”
He lowered himself, folding his arm under his head so he could lay eye-to-eye with her. “I like waking you up like that. It means I’ve still got it.”
She blinked sleepily and grinned. “Baby, I’ll let you in on a little secret. You’re always gonna have it.”
“Yeah, well, I enjoy reminding myself.”
“At the expense of my REM sleep.”
“Okay, go back to sleep then.” He shifted closer.
“Why? You’ll just wake me up again.”
He smiled and skimmed his palm over the slope and fall of her hip. “Only because I love the color of your eyes.”
She closed them for several seconds then popped them open again. “How’s that?”
He shook his head. “It’s just not the same. It’s kind of fun watching the sleep drain out of them.”
She shimmied closer and pressed her palm to his chest. “You know, they say that lack of sleep leads to hallucinations and even psychosis.”
“Yeah, well, you’re already crazy.”
She let out a soft laugh. “Crazy for you, asshole.”
“You’re such a romantic.”
“Not even close.”
He rolled her to her back, needing to feel her come again. Every time she came, her body shuddered like she was having an internal earthquake, and something about knowing he did that to her made his chest swell with pride. He gave her pleasure, and, in return, that pleasured him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Despite her contrary words, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him place.
“Claiming my female.”
“You enjoy claiming her, don’t you?”
He eased inside her, and nearly came at the way her fingernails bit into his back as she closed her eyes and moaned.
“I can’t resist.” He thrust his pubic bone against her mound, making her gasp and shiver. “She’s just so”—he pumped into her again, and her entire body fell into an orgasmic spasm—“fucking responsive.”
“You b-bastard.” Her thighs shuddered against his hips as she whimpered through an aftershock. “You shouldn’t be taking advantage of my centuries-old sensory deprivation like that.” It was obvious she loved that he took advantage of it as much as he did.
“Not so big and tough now, are you, sweetheart.” He pumped into her and moaned at the way her inner muscles contracted and quivered around his cock.
Her eyes flared as they met his. “You talk too much.” She linked her hands at the back of his neck and pulled him down so her lips pressed against his. “Now, shut up and fuck me.”
He grinned. “You tryin’ to boss my dick, baby?”
She smiled and nipped his bottom lip. “Every day.”
That was exactly what he wanted to hear.
He began pumping in earnest. “Don’t you ever stop, either.”
“I won’t if you won’t.”
“Never.”
* * *
Late in the afternoon, Cordray trailed behind Trace as he led her into the living room of Micah’s home. He still had a slight limp but no longer needed the crutches, thanks to feeding from her several times in the last couple of days.
Toys, crayons, and coloring books were strewn everywhere, and it looked like Micah and Sam had purchased a gaming unit and every video game known to man to play on it, which Gavin and Faith were taking full advantage of while Null colored.
Panya was in the kitchen with Sam, baking what smelled like chocolate chip cookies.
Micah had grown particularly fond of Aiden, who was now, this very moment, perched beside him on the couch, braiding his shoulder-length hair in dozens of skinny braids.
“Look at you,” Cordray said to Micah, taking a seat across from him. “If you were in a beige bathing suit running along the beach in slow motion to Ravel’s ‘Boléro,’ I’d think you were Bo Derek from the movie, Ten.”
“Yeah,” Trace added, “looks good, Mike.”
Micah surreptitiously flipped them both off.
She smiled and said to Aiden, “You’re doing such a good job, honey. I can’t wait to see his hair when you’re all finished.” To Micah, she asked, “Where are Mya and Brenna?”
“Shopping for more clothes.”
They were still replacing everything they’d lost in the fire.
“You have soft hair,” Aiden said, twisting and tying off another braid before starting another, her fingers working with the confident sureness of someone ten times her age.
“Well, I condition every day,” Micah said, lightly tapping her nose.
“Don’t let him fool you, Aiden,” Sam called from the kitchen. “His hair is naturally soft like that.”
“Hey now,” Micah said over his shoulder, “I condition . . . occasionally.”
Aiden giggled.
Cordray glanced at Null. “Hey, little man, are you about ready to leave so you can show Trace whatever it is you want to show him?”
“Where are you guys going?” Micah said.
“Null said he wanted to take Trace somewhere.”
Null hopped up and thrust a picture toward Trace.
Trace took it and held it out where Cordray could see it.
The picture showed a burning building in the background and a dark-skinned male in the foreground. He was wearing a blue and red cape and held hands with two little kids with blond hair and blue eyes.
Cordray smiled and nudged Trace’s arm. “I think he’s trying to tell you you’re his hero.”
Humility crossed Trace’s face as his eyes softened. He nodded. "I get that.” He smiled proudly at her.
Null grabbed Trace’s hand. “Come on, Twace. I wanna show you something.” He tugged Trace off the couch and started for the front door.
Cordray stood at the same time Micah did, hoisting Aiden up with him and resting her on his hip.
“Looks like Null is eager to get going,” she said.
“Yeah, me, too,” Micah said. “I’ve got to work tonight.” He looked at Aiden. “So you’ll have to finish my hair later, okay?”
She giggled and swiped her fingers left to right over the ends of his braids, making them sway side to side like strands of beads. “Okay.”
“Are you paying our friend a visit tonight?” Cordray knew Micah had been watching Ronan for the last forty-eight hours, making sure he fell back into his complacent routine before striking.
Micah’s eyes narrowed mischievously as one corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile. It was all the confirmation she needed.
“Thought so.” She ruffled Aiden’s hair then said to Micah, “Good luck. Not that you’ll need it.”
“I don’t.” He held her gaze for a long moment. “But thanks.” He set Aiden down and joined Trace by the door, locking forearms with him in a bro hug. “I’ll see you later. You gonna be around?”
“We’ll probably stick around for a while.” Trace met her eyes. “But we’ll be spending the night at Cordray’s place again.”
Micah rolled his eyes and turned as he dashed his hand in a downward motion at them. “You two are like rabbits.”
Trace chuckled. “Takes one to know one.”
“Come on, Twace.” Null tugged Trace toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Cordray waved to Sam over her shoulder as Micah disappeared around the corner. “Save us some cookies. We’ll be back later.”
Sam looked up from helping Panya stir another batch of cookie dough and waved. “We’ll have plenty. I think we’re going to make snickerdoodles after this.”
What was up with that female? She’d become an eating machine. There were already platters of chocolate chip cookies, brownies, and something that looked like deconstructed s’mores, and now it looked like she was making some kind of peanut butter cookie.
“Is Sam okay?” Cordray said to Trace as they closed the door and followed Null to the Denali.
He helped secure Null in his car seat. “She’s just feeling maternal with a household of kids is all.”
Cordray’s instincts told her that wasn’t it, but for lack of a better explanation, Trace’s would have to do.
* * *
Forty minutes later, Trace followed Null into the woods behind Asylum. The remains of the dorm had already been cleared, leaving only a charred rectangle of dirt, but construction on the new dorm was to begin in a few days. King Bain had already assigned a team of architects to design a new one. A larger one.
The kids would be back at the ranch before they knew it, and they would live in style.
“Over here, Twace.” Null motioned him toward a stream.
With the sun dragging toward the horizon, the afternoon light was quickly fading into evening, but it was still light enough to see where he was going.
He sidestepped down a steep embankment and knelt beside Null at the edge of a sandbar.
Cordray waited quietly behind them.
Null squatted and inspected the earth then began digging his tiny fingers into the wet soil.
“What are we looking for, little man?” Trace asked, unsure what he should be doing to help.
“Just wait. I’ll find it.” The little boy continued digging, getting his shoes wet. Mud turned the hem of his jeans brown.
Five minutes passed.
Ten.
Fifteen.
The sun was beginning to set.
“A-ha!” Null yanked his hand out of the stream, showering them with water.
Trace shielded himself then lowered his arms.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” He peered closer at the rock Null held in his hand. It was whitish in color, speckled with black.
“It’s a wock. Like the one in my collection. You said you had one like it when you wewe my age.”
Trace gingerly took the rock from Null’s tiny hand and let it rest in his palm as he slowly lowered himself to a crouch.
It wasn’t just a similar rock to the one from his childhood collection. It was the same rock. The same exact one.
Mother.
She’d brought it to him. Somehow, she’d found it and brought it here so he could find it. Tears stung the backs of his eyes.
Null dropped to his knees in front of Trace and patted his little hand over the rock as he turned up his chipmunk-cheeked face and smiled so brightly it was a wonder the sun didn’t get jealous. “This is a hewo’s rock.” Pat-pat-pat. “You’we my hewo, and one day, I’ll be a hewo, too.”
Cordray placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
He didn’t have to look at her to know she had a smile on her face.
“I told you you’re his hero,” she said.
He shook his head and ruffled Null’s hair. “Naw, little man. I’m not a hero.” He winked and glanced skyward. “I’m a guardian angel. Just like my mother.” He turned his gaze toward Cordray as he stood, holding her eyes with his. “I’m a guardian angel, bound to protect those I love and care about with the power my mother gave me.” His heart swelled with happiness and pride as he gazed at her. “Until now, I thought my power was a curse, but now I see it was really a gift.” He wrapped his hand around hers. “A gift meant to lead me to you, and I swear on my every heartbeat that I will protect you, your children—and ours—for as long as I live. You are my family now, and I will destroy anyone who tries to harm my family.”
He’d come full circle, closing the last remaining door on his past.
He wasn’t a freak. He was a protector. He’d been created to protect, not destroy.
As he turned and led Cordray and Null up the embankment, he swore he heard his mother’s contented sigh on the breeze and felt her smile at his back.
But he knew if he looked, he would find nothing but burnished sunlight, shimmering water, and shadows.
I love you, Mother.
A refreshing breeze scented of jasmine was his only reply.
But it was enough.
Enough to know she was with him and always would be, in death as she had been in life.
Forever.