Drink Deep - Chloe Neill [124]
After a moment he pulled back, his own breathing labored; he opened his eyes and captured my cheeks in his hands. “I haven’t forgotten where we left things, Sentinel, nor do I plan to forget it.”
“You’ve been gone a long time.”
“Only to you. To me, there was only a vague dream of darkness . . . and occasionally your voice. You kept me bound to earth, and I called your name to do the same for you.”
I’m sure I paled a bit at that confession. The emotion of his being back was still new, still raw, still untested. I was thrilled that he was back, but the emotion was so unexpected I was afraid to trust it.
He tipped up my chin and forced me to meet his gaze. “Is there someone else?”
“No. But for two months, there was no you, either.”
We were silent for a moment while he searched my gaze. “There was a time,” he finally said, “when I would have acknowledged your reticence and given you time and space to reach your own decision.”
He tipped my head down again and slid his fingers to the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Then he lowered his lips to my ear.
“This is not that time, Merit.”
And then his mouth was on mine, and he took my breath away again. He kissed me like a man possessed, like a man with nothing more on his mind but the taste and feel of me.
Like a man returned to life.
“I have been given a third chance at life, even if the circumstances are somewhat disconcerting. You are mine, and we both know it.”
He kissed me again, and as I began to believe that he was really, truly back, I felt as possessive of him as I’d ever felt about anything, sure in the bone-deep knowledge that he was mine, and regardless of the circumstance, I intended to keep it that way.
After another long moment, he ended the kiss and wrapped his arms around me.
When the sun rose, we were nestled together, two bodies pressed together for warmth, for love, in gratefulness for miracles that probably shouldn’t have been.
It was the best night’s sleep I’d ever had.
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EPILOGUE
We awoke with our bodies intertwined, the phone beside Ethan’s bed ringing loudly. I crawled across his very naked body and picked up the receiver.
“Yes?” I asked.
Catcher’s voice was frantic. “She woke up. She overpowered the guards, and she left.”
I sat up and shook Ethan’s leg to wake him. “Slow down. What do you mean she overpowered the Order?”
Alarm in his eyes, Ethan sat up beside me, his legs wrapped in a sheet. He pushed the hair from his face.
“They removed the restraints so they could check her out. She managed to convince them that she was feeling better, that she knew she’d done wrong. As soon as they were off, she knocked out the guard. He’s banged up pretty badly. She knocked out two others on the way out. They called a few minutes ago.”
“Do you know where she went?”
“A temporary guardian left this morning to drive the Maleficium to Nebraska. There are rooms in the Order’s silo that are impermeable to magic. The plan is to keep it there until a permanent guardian is appointed.”
“The Order is supposed to guard the book of evil? That’s a horrible idea.”
“The Order’s just providing the space. The temp is in charge of it until it goes to its new home.”
“That’s where she’ll go. She wants to finish her task,” I quietly said. “Combining good and evil together. She thinks it’s necessary, that it will help the world.”
“They won’t let me look for her,” Catcher said. “The Order doesn’t want me involved. And if she’s truly using black magic, they’re afraid to allow sorcerers to get mixed up in it.”
Honestly, I didn’t disagree with the sentiment.
“I considered secreting her away,” he confessed.
“She can’t run from this,” I said. “If she’s become addicted to black magic, she needs to deal with it, not pretend it doesn’t exist.”
“I failed her. I should have known. I thought . . . I thought Simon was trying to turn her against me because of the Order. I