Ravenlight (The Ravenlight Cycles Book 1) Page 7

  Once we were both inside, I re-engaged the lock.

  Orderly crème-colored shelves filled the walls holding rattan baskets of hand-cut bars of multi-hued soaps—from an earthy beige to bright swirls of electric blue and blinding white—and each carried a label with a description of ingredients and uses. In the middle of the room sat a display of tiered tables with candles of different sizes, shapes, and colors. My favorites to make were the pillar candles, which required pouring the hot wax into an upside-down mold.

  “Did you create all this?” His gaze swept the room then landed on me, wonder shining from their depths.

  “Yeah, pretty much.” I pointed to the checkout counter, where paper air fresheners shaped like the Lone Star State hung from a peg. “Even made those, though there’s not much to ’em.”

  He popped open a wax melt and sniffed. “I see this through the window, but actually standing here in the middle of all this product gives me a new appreciation for your expertise and dedication.”

  “I love making this stuff.” A sea-green candle looked in danger of falling. “One of these days, I’ll open my own giftshop, just like Miss Lottie.” My fingers nudged the pillar farther onto the table. “That’s the goal, anyhow.” I offered him a small grin over my shoulder.

  It must be strange for him to stand here as a man after watching through the window every day.

  “If you fail,” he whispered, his body heat warming my back, the breath close to my ear, “You’ll lose all of this.”

  Unable to stop myself, I pressed into him and shivered. I relished the way his hard muscles felt against mine, how he dwarfed my smaller frame and wrapped me with a sense of security.

  He twisted me to face him and lifted my chin, using the other arm to snake around my shoulders and draw me close. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

  “Revan.” I took a deep, cleansing breath. “I don’t have much to give, so let me do this for you.” My eyes trailed his neck where a tendon stood out.

  “But—”

  “No.” Laying a finger against his lips, I stood on my tiptoes. “You’ll accept my gift, or we end whatever this is right now.” Please say yes.

  His gaze landed on my outstretched arm. Desire burned in his eyes, but his jaw tightened, as if fighting some other emotion. “You’d give me an ultimatum?”

  “Yes.” I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck.

  “You’re exasperating.” Craning his neck downward, his lips brushed against mine, sending tingles across the flesh. “But I plan on changing your mind.” His tongue slid inside, and, for a moment, he engulfed my senses.

  What did I come in here for? “Nice try,” I whispered.

  His lips curved against mine, and a small chuckle escaped.

  Remembering the money inside my locker, I gently pushed him. “I’ll be right back.”

  I didn’t want to break contact, but I had a purpose for today. He would experience some fun today and accept my gift—embrace it—even if I had to shove it down his throat.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Pecos “Revan” Chogan

  Just as the moon orbited the Earth and the planet orbited the sun, I was also a dead ball of rock waiting for Sophie’s light to warm my skin. It had always been that way, and I found myself gravitating in circles, craving her light even while she dragged me into an open-air restaurant called The Loco Taco.

  A waiter appeared with pen and paper in hand.

  “I’ll take a chicken bacon ranch taco and a water.” Her hazel eyes, closer to green in the bright sun, sparkled.

  “And you, sir?” He tapped the end of his pen against the pad.

  People strolled on the sidewalk a few feet away, their shopping bags in hand. A car honked at another vehicle taking too long at a red light. In bird form, I would’ve flown above this horrendous cacophony. Today, no such luck.

  Sophie’s face paled, and she leaned toward my ear. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think.” She grabbed the menu from my hand. “I guess a bird doesn’t need to read.” She flipped the paper and smoothed its edges, her cheeks bright crimson.

  I leaned back in my chair and laughed. “I can read.” Shaking my head, I plucked the menu and glanced at the waiter, whose stare panned between us. “I’ll take the street tacos with beef and a tea.”

  “Alright, thank you.” With one unreadable glance, he turned toward the restaurant. “It’ll be right out.”

  “God, I’m sorry.” Biting her lip, she stared at me. “I shouldn’t have assumed you couldn’t read. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “It’s okay.” My hand slid across the table to grasp hers. Her skin felt like velvet under my fingertips. “Just because I live most of my life in a different form doesn’t mean I don’t get out and learn things.” Except for the last few months or so, when I realized my affection for this woman was turning into something deep and strong.

  “Oh, of course.” She squeezed my hand, the color in her cheeks fading. “Exactly how old are you?”

  “Well, technically, I’m two hundred and twenty.”

  “Never thought I’d take such an old man on a lunch date.” Her gentle laugh caressed my ears. “I must say, you look good for your age.”

  The waiter brought chips and salsa with our drinks and left.

  I took a swig of the black tea. “Well, I guess my body’s still in its twenties, even though I’ve lived several lifetimes.” Dipping a chip into the red dip, I chewed and swallowed. “Actually, living isn’t the right word. Existing, maybe.”

  “That is exactly why I want to help you.” She grabbed my shoulder, her small fingers burning through the scratchy clothing and igniting my blood. “If I free you, you can do whatever you want, with whomever you want.”

  “I want to be with you—period. In either form.” Her words struck a disorderly chord in me. After experiencing the mutual attraction between us, I’d assumed she wanted the same thing. “Is that not what you want?”

  Her black-polished nails scratched her scalp for a moment. Opening her mouth to speak, the server appeared with our food, and she exhaled instead.

  My vision might not have been as good in human form, but it was still sharp enough to see tiny worry lines crease her forehead. She shoved the end of a taco into her mouth.

  I decided to let the question drop. Eleven hours were still left for me to change her mind and keep her out of harm’s way.

  “These are really good.” The fajita meat held a smoky, spicy flavor. It certainly beats eating bugs and roadkill.

  “I know.” Her face brightened. “When I was little, Mamma used to bring me here, and we’d eat outside, pretending everything was normal.” The pitch of her voice dropped, and she looked down for a second.

  “I’m sure it was rough losing her so suddenly.” After polishing off my food, I wiped my hands on a napkin and studied her face.

  A shoulder lifted. “Yeah, it was horrible. She’d complained about headaches for a few weeks, but we couldn’t afford insurance, so she put off going to the doctor.” She rubbed her arms, the intricate fluffy feathers resting against her chest blowing in the light breeze. “Oh well. It’s done and over with. I really don’t want to talk about it if you don’t mind.”

  My attention was riveted to her chest. The hem of the dress hugged the creamy swell of her breasts, and I wondered how they’d feel unbound in my palms.

  “Sometimes it’s best to face what we fear.” With determination, I forced my gaze to her face, enjoying the soft line of her jaw and the way her eyes tilted at the outer corners. “We may not rid ourselves of it completely, but we can stare it in the eyes and learn to control it. At least, that’s the way a warrior is trained. Was trained.”

  Some warrior I am now. I sighed. Even if she somehow managed to free me, I’d still be an outlier—a man out of place and time.

  A mother and son walked along the sidewalk past the outdoor dining area. She held one tiny hand while he crammed chocolate ice cream into his m
outh with the other fist. His gaze landed on me, and he stared. “Mommy,” he whispered so loud it could be heard over the blare of traffic. “Look, it’s a real Indian.” The melting ice cream cone pointed in my direction.

  She stopped for a moment, her eyes seeming to register my hair and upper chest before settling onto my face. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.” Bending to her son’s ear, her words were low, but I could decipher a few. “… rude… let’s go.” She hauled the little boy, eyes wide and glued to me, along the concrete with one arm, ice cream in danger of falling from its cone.

  “Does that happen a lot when you go out?” Sophie asked with a snort.

  “Sometimes.” I finished my tea. “But I haven’t been out in a while—at least, not in this form.”

  “Why not?”

  “I like being close to you.” I gave her what I hoped was a sexy smile. “All of this”—in a vague gesture, I swept my hand toward the tall buildings—“means nothing to me if I’m not at your side.”

  She fidgeted.

  “This makes you uncomfortable, me admitting my feelings for you?”

  “Yes.” She took a breath, the movement forcing her chest outward. “I mean, I can’t deny I’m attracted to you, but Revan, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for a relationship. I mean, sheesh, my own dad hated my guts. What does that say about me?” Wetness glimmered in her eyes.

  “Sophie.” I scooted my chair next to hers, uncaring who saw or heard. “Your father was a mean drunk. He was a horrible parent, but it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Still. If I’d kept my trap shut and went to my room that day, maybe he would’ve loved me when I got older.”

  “How could anyone not love you?” I gathered her into my arms and hugged her to my body, enjoying the light scent of jasmine and honey.

  She stiffened but relaxed after a few seconds. Her arms slipped under mine, curving around my ribcage. “Thank you.”

  “You are one of the most generous, resilient people I’ve ever known.”

  “Well, that doesn’t say a lot, considering you hardly go out.” She looked up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like—”

  I laughed. “It’s true.” I kissed the tip of her nose and tucked her head into the crook of my neck. “And I love you.”

  The breath whooshed from her mouth, and she jerked away. “What?”

  “We’re taught to speak what’s on our minds. One never knows what the next day will bring—or snuff out.”

  She stood, gathered the empty containers into a neat pile and pushed them to the middle of the table, a frown marring her angelic face.

  Maybe I should’ve kept that thought to myself, but I might not get the chance to tell her for another month, and what if I break my neck by accidentally flying into a window and she never knows?

  She checked the time on her cellphone. “We need to get back. I’ve got, uh, stuff to do.” Her posture was rigid, and her mouth a straight line.

  “Sophie, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” I reached toward her hand, but she stepped backward.

  “Ready?” Her smile was bright—too bright.

  A warrior also knows when to offer a truce. Without another word, I followed her the three blocks to the car. I’ll win this battle for her heart—and keep her safe, both from me and the world.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sophie Brannigan

  Why did he have to mention love? He desired me, that was it. There was no way he knew me well enough to fall in love. Just the thought of him feeling that way about me sent shocks along my nerves.

  The drive was quiet. I connected the stereo to my phone and let “Harvest” by Nightwish fill the silence.

  I’d planned on taking him to a movie, the zoo, or something fun, but after seeing the way people stared at him and his obvious discomfort with being in public, I scrapped the idea. Plus, I couldn’t deal with his declaration of love.

  I was an idiot. Our worlds were too different to ever meld together. The next Ravenlight, I’d do whatever I needed and let him go his own way. Maybe without me as baggage, he could find his place in the world. At the thought of never seeing him again, a pang of sadness stabbed my chest.

  It’s the right thing to do. Love for me would be like a weight shackled around his ankle, keeping him tethered to the ground. Eventually, he’d cut himself free, throw me away, or both.

  I pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. From my periphery, I watched him unbuckle his seatbelt and twist his upper body to face me.

  “Sophie.” His voice was soft and deep. “Don’t ignore me. Please.”

  It was that last word which pulled my gaze to his proud, gorgeous face.

  His fingers sought mine, and the thumb stroked the inside of my palm, sending rivers of electricity traveling up my skin.

  I suppressed a moan. This can’t go on. I won’t let whatever this is tie me—or him—down. “This isn’t going to happen.” Steeling myself, I yanked my hand from his like it was a snake.

  “What do you mean?” A wounded look flashed in his eyes. He leaned closer, his presence intense and intoxicating.

  The field on the side of the house contained a small vegetable garden where Aunt Merle’s cucumbers and squash grew with zest. With a gentle lift, a breeze ruffled the wide green leaves. Several butterflies danced above the plants, their bright yellow bodies contrasting with the greenery below.

  “Us.” I kept my gaze straight ahead and gripped the steering wheel. “We’re too different, and, if I’m being honest, I don’t—and can’t—love you, Revan.” That’s because you’re scared, my little voice of conscience whispered. I sealed it away.

  As he leaned into my space, his body heat engulfed me. He threaded his warm hand through my hair and settled it against my cheek, turning my gaze to his. “Why not?”

  “Because I barely know you. Because you’re not even part of my world. Because we’re too different.” Each sentence made my chest ache a little more, but I couldn’t risk exposing my heart.

  Golden-brown irises searched my stare. His straight black eyebrows scrunched. He pushed himself closer, his steely arms encircling me, pulling my lips to within a fraction of his.

  I should’ve struggled, but my body didn’t want to obey my brain. Instead, my gaze ran over his sharp cheekbones and straight nose.

  “Those differences don’t seem so important right now, do they?”

  I stared at his smooth skin and strong jaw. His lips were plump and kissable, and suddenly, my brain went on vacation and my heart took over. His smell was overpowering. Desire welled inside like a steaming geyser.

  Intensity radiated from his stare.

  Slipping my hands over his shoulders, I pulled him into me, crashing my lips to his. I wanted him more than anything but not at the price of love—never at the price of love. A painful traitor, love was a liability.

  His fingers stroked my bare shoulders and flirted with the top of the dress, the palms sliding inside and against my skin, increasing my body temperature by a hundred degrees.

  If I didn’t quit, my self-control would slip, and then who knew what I’d do. “Stop.” I pulled away, gasping for air.

  Immediately, he retracted. “I don’t understand. I thought—”

  “You thought wrong.” I pulled the door handle, stepped out of the car, and slammed it behind me. Not stopping, I pounded up the porch steps.

  “Sophie.” A hand grabbed my wrist. “Please. What did I do?” He walked around to face me, lowering his head to peer into my eyes, hands on both of my shoulders.

  “Nothing.” I tried to shrug him away, but he wouldn’t budge. “Everything. Okay? I can’t do this. I’ll free you next Ravenlight, but then that’s it—we’re done.”

  “No, we’re not.”

  “Yes, we are.” I could see he wasn’t going to go without a fight. “Did you really think I could care for someone who lives as a bird, who’s hundreds of years old?”

  His mouth thinned, and he dropped his hands to
his sides. The beads in his hair clicked gently. “You can’t get rid of me this easily.” His eyes softened and he reached forward again.

  I sidestepped. “Go home, Revan. Who sits around day after day, watching someone they can’t have?” Nausea churned in my stomach. I wanted to rescind my words when I saw the confused pain in his eyes but knew I couldn’t. I’d kill this right here and now, freeing him from his self-imposed prison of watching over me.

  Is that the only reason I’m doing this, though? Unbidden, that little voice of reason wedged herself into my head again. Or are you being a coward, pushing him away because you’re scared he might truly feel something for you? I shook my head in denial and shoved that voice where she belonged—in a deep, dark hole.

  “So, that is how you think of me?” Fury darkened his face like a thundercloud, the first time I’d seen true anger in his stance and on his face. He squared his shoulders. “I certainly don’t want to be where I’m not wanted. You’ve made your point. I’ll not bother you again.” With a quick jerk, he gave me his back, then paused. “I don’t accept your offering, so do not concern yourself with the next Ravenlight. I would hate for you to sacrifice yourself for someone you loathe.”

  He stormed off the porch, the tromp of his shoes loud on the wooden steps.

  An intense urge rose to call out and beg him to come back, that I didn’t mean what I’d said, but I smothered it.

  This is for the best.

  In the golden afternoon sun, his tall frame stalked through the yard and across the dirt road. He didn’t look back.

  With a palm on the doorknob, I tore my attention from his receding form and headed inside, shutting everything away and running up the stairs to my room. He deserves someone better—someone not too afraid to put herself out there.

  I’d give him freedom next Ravenlight whether he accepted or not, but I wouldn’t give him my heart—never my heart.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN