Like an idiot, she’d sent Barnaby packing. Again. Apparently, she couldn’t learn.
How did things turn out the last time you made him leave?
Beyond disastrous.
What about his safety, though? Maybe she could find him and make certain that he was okay.
He was a supernatural immortal being. He didn’t need her help.
What did he need from her?
Absolutely nothing.
The sun rose and lit up the cabin in a cheery glow that taunted her melancholy mood.
Several times, Jane scooped up those damned keys and opened up the front door, ready to drive away. He’d given her a clear choice.
Could she accept Barnaby, an unnatural being?
She had no right to judge.
Real question was, could he accept a broken person like Jane?
Afternoon crawled into evening. Restless, she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t get comfortable.
The problem had less to do with the man who exited the cabin and more to do with the woman remaining inside.
I can’t live like this anymore, he’d said.
Cold fingers of fear slid over her neck and squeezed.
I can’t live like this anymore.
How far would he go to fulfill that promise?
Twilight darkened the skies, and she shivered in the light breeze through the broken window. She’d long since stopped jumping at each tiny noise outside.
Who cared? The man she loved, her calm in the storm, the man who had challenged the devil’s own henchman to save her life, had left.
She sniffed. Nope, tears had long since dried up. She had nothing left but a sucking emptiness that started out small and expanded until it wormed its way through her entire chest.
How could he have done this?
To her, the little voice in her head whispered.
How selfish could she be? He left.
Because she told him to.
What the heck did she expect?
God, she wanted Barnaby back, cursed existence and all. She wanted his jaunty smile and twinkling blue eyes. What she’d give to feel his muscled arms around her again.
She peered out the window into the moonlit night.
Like he’d never existed, Barnaby was gone.
The cruelty of the entire situation hit her like a truck plowing her over. She sagged against the porch door frame. Her entire soul had been ripped in half.
Her anchor. Gone.
Her sanity, following.
• • •
The next morning dawned cool, bright, and cheery, much to Jane’s disgust. Her sleep had been horrendous, partly due to the open window allowing chilly air to move unimpeded through the house. And partly due to ... yeah.
Shaking her arms and legs to warm up, she shuffled into the kitchen. Even with a spoon, bowl, powdered milk, and a cornflakes box laid out on the counter, she couldn’t pull it off. She kept staring at the items, not certain what to do.
So instead, she sank to the floor with a death grip on the spoon.
He hadn’t returned.
Well, there you had it.
She couldn’t stay here. Eventually, someone would figure out that Thompson’s crew had disappeared near Santa Cruz. They would eventually find Barnaby’s cabin. Which would lead a curiosity seeker directly to Jane and a whole lot of things she couldn’t explain.
The spoon clutched in her hand blurred into the image of Barnaby’s smiling face. She squeezed her eyes closed and rubbed her eyes with the other hand, trying something—anything—to remove him from her memory. It didn’t work.
When her head lolled back on the cabinet and she finally opened her eyes, darned if she didn’t see his face again. She blinked hard. It didn’t help. She gripped the spoon harder, as if doing so would bolster her sanity.
Even now, she could swear the muscles of his arms flexed and his chest rose with a sigh. She even saw the corner of his strong mouth rise in a wry smile.
With every nuance of behavior in her imagined vision, the vice around her heart cranked down tighter and tighter.
“Jane.”
Oh great, now she was hallucinating sounds. Maybe the LSD from the People’s Palace had come back to haunt her.
Maybe Barnaby haunted her.
The burn in her chest amplified when she blinked and he didn’t disappear.
“Jane. I’m here.”
“No, you’re not.” The metal utensil dug into the skin of her palm.
Even though he smiled in the usual Barnaby manner, sadness creased lines on his face.
When he knelt down and touched her on the arm, she yelped. It felt too real, too immediate, too painful.
“It’s really me.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Jane.” His mellow voice broke her heart. “Do you trust me?”
The imaginary vice loosened half a turn.
He had come back.
“I trust you, Barnaby.”
She buried her head on bent knees.
“Where did you go?”
“I never left. Not really.” He sank down to sit near her on the floor. “Z’wounds, Jane. I couldn’t leave you.”
Snapping her head up to stare at him, she said, “What?”
He took her free hand in his big, rough one, turned her palm up, and dropped a gentle kiss onto her wrist.
The screws on the vice around her heart unwound with each swipe of his lips on her skin. As the pressure eased up in her chest, the emptiness faded. She relaxed her grip on the spoon but couldn’t let it go yet.
“You’re really here,” she whispered.
“You bet I am.” The light in his eyes returned, along with ... fear? “So, Jane?”
“Yes.”
“I was always in sight of this cabin. Every time I tried to go farther away, you were like a magnet, pulling me back.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Do you even understand what I’m trying to say? I couldn’t leave you if I tried.”
“I understand.”
“Really?” His boyish grin made her toes tingle.
“Yeah. For real. I tried to leave several times, but couldn’t.”
“Truth?”
“Truth.”
His eyes shone. “In four centuries roaming this earth, I have never loved a woman the way I love you, Jane.” He swallowed. “I have no right to ask. I’m a monster. Criminy, I have no right—”
When she pressed her finger to his lips, he froze in place, gripping her wrist like a lifeline.
“I have no right, either, Barnaby. Neither of us is a whole person.”
“Maybe we can be whole together.” He rubbed his chin. “God’s teeth, I’ll beg if necessary.”
Her heart pounded. “No, you don’t—”
His grip on her hand ached, but she wouldn’t make him let go for a million dollars.
In the early morning light, his eyes shone, and the big man opened his mouth to speak twice before getting the words out. “We have no guarantees. As long as I’m Indebted, you will be in danger. And if you’re with me, your normal human life is gone. We have to hide.”
“I’m good at hiding.” She studied the handsome sweep of his hair over his forehead. “Do you really want out of your contract?”
“Yes. But I don’t even know if it’s possible.”
“Then I want to help you try. And no, I don’t care about being in danger. I’m getting pretty good at it.”
His blue eyes lit up, and his brows rose. “Could we try?”
“There’s nothing I want more than to be with you for whatever forever means for us. We’ll go find those scrolls in Vietnam.”
“When travel is safe.”
“But soon. Together.” She twined her fingers in his. “Before we go back to Vietnam, would you help me free those women and expose the People’s Palace?”
“After what you endured? It would be my pleasure.”
“Then we’ll go make you human again.”
“I don’t know if it can be done. Or if I would survive. If you object, I won’t do it. I can stay Indebted and use my power to keep you safe from any new minions Jerahmeel sends.”
A cold chill ran down her spine. “What do you want, Barnaby?”
Pulling her hand up, he brushed his lips across her knuckles. “I want to become a real man for you. Only you, Jane.”
“Then that’s what you should do.”
He pulled her close and kissed her. She returned it with interest, pouring her love for him into the contact.
When he leaned back, he ran his index finger down her cheek until she shivered.
“One question, sweetling,” he said.
“Yes?”
“Could I have that spoon back? You’re going to strangle it.”
She hiccupped a sob and laughed. “Of course.” She loosened her grip until he gently extricated the utensil, but the lack of something to hold on to made her heart patter.
Until she focused on Barnaby.
She had anchored him to this world.
And he was her anchor.