Authors: Sofia Grey
Tags: #M/M Romance, Love’s Landscapes, paranormal, exile, family issues, guardian, homophobia, immortal, loneliness, tattoos, tour guide
“I cannot express my gratitude. The years have been long without you. To know that I can return is an honour, but to be able to be with you again is a gift beyond measure.”
“Ah, about that.” Matiu’s attention was fixed upon the wall opposite. “I have a mate now. And young of my own.” He glanced at me, and then his gaze skittered away again. “There are some beautiful females here, and all eager to meet you.”
I had the strange sensation that I was holding one conversation while Matiu was engaged in a completely different one. Holding up my hand, I stalled his words while I sought my tongue. “I thought we would be together? You said things had changed.”
“Not like that.”
A chill descended upon me. “Explain.” I had to force the word out.
“We’ll have to be discreet this time.” Matiu kept his voice low. “Not get caught.”
Bitterness filled my throat, choking me. “So when I plead for clemency, I have to take a female mate?”
“You don’t
have
to. But it would make things easier. Smooth it over.”
It felt like a slap in the face. I stared at Matiu and put the jigsaw pieces together again, but making a different picture this time. “You brought me back, but I have to pretend. Live a lie.”
“You would still be here. We could see each other. By the Gods, Henare, haven’t you missed me?”
I had. Yes. But not any more.
“Tell me again about TJ. You just
happened
to meet him? What are the odds of that?”
“
Shhh
.” He flashed me a warning glare.
I had no intention of staying quiet. “And if
Taniwha
are not supposed to mix with humans, how many rules did you break to talk with him?”
A new story was building up in my head. One I didn’t like at all. “You saw TJ with me and sought him out. Am I right?” The dark flush on Matiu’s cheeks made my stomach clench. “How long had you been watching me?” His lips pursed, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You were jealous? That’s the only reason you wanted me back?”
“If I can’t have you, I don’t want…” His hot retort foundered.
I had to get out of there. I couldn’t go through with this. “I
loved
you, Matiu.”
A soft bell sounded, and then a voice boomed my name.
“Stay, Henare.” Matiu grabbed my arm, and then released it equally quickly. “I’ll make time for you.”
“Not like this.”
“If you don’t plead to mighty Tangaroa now, you won’t ever have the chance. You will be exiled forever.”
“I thought I already was.”
My name rang out again, and I knew what I had to do. This was my one opportunity to change my life. I’d be a fool to waste it.
****
Chapter 10
I floated face down in warm water, the sun burning the skin on my back. My mouth and nose were clogged, and my lungs had difficulty pulling in air. With an effort, I lifted my head and gazed at the shore. Not far now. My limbs felt like dead weights, but I swam a few more strokes and then floated again.
Letting my legs drop, I finally touched sand with the tips of my toes. Thank the Gods. I splashed on a little further, stretched beneath me once more, and this time could stand upright with my chin above the gentle waves. I was exhausted. Could I even make it to the beach?
Only just. My knees gave way, and I collapsed onto warm, damp sand. I had no idea where I was, and when I forced my tired brain to think, I realised I’d no idea
who
I was either. These things had to be connected.
Bright lights flashed in my eyes, and voices boomed above me, asking questions I couldn’t answer. Drifting in and out of consciousness, I was aware of being lifted and carried, of people in white coats examining me, and then a soft, cool bed.
Time passed. People came and went. I lay silent in the bed, and stared at a small window and a tiny patch of blue sky beyond. Food arrived on trays and I picked at it, but even that felt unfamiliar. Who was I? And how had I ended up here? It felt as though I had a giant door inside my head, and no matter what I did, it refused to open.
I knew I waited for something. Or someone.
The door clicked, and an old woman entered the room. Like everyone else, she was a stranger, but she seemed to know me. “
Henare
.” Her voice was shocked. Standing in the open doorway, she leaned heavily on a wooden stick, but she moved to my side and reached out to touch my hand.
Something jangled in my brain, but nothing emerged.
Henare
. Finally, someone who might have some answers. “You know me?”
“Yes.” A smile lit up her tanned face. “I’m Elizabeth. What happened to you?”
“I don’t know.” I pushed at the door in my head, but it wouldn’t budge. “I woke up on the beach and they brought me here.”
“The doctor says you’re suffering from amnesia, possibly brought on by head trauma.” I touched my head. Nothing hurt. “You’ve been here nearly two weeks and not reacted to anything yet. He said you might respond to familiar places and things.” She dug into a shoulder bag and produced a white plastic box. I watched, curious.
Prying the lid free, she passed the container to me and I peered inside. The scent hit me first. Spice. Sugar. A crisp, still warm pastry nestled on a bed of crumpled paper. I knew this tasted good, I could remember the flavour, a thousand tastebuds dancing in glee. I inhaled deeply and held the delicious fragrance in my lungs. “For me?”
“Of course.” She laughed, her eyes crinkling in the corners. “You loved my baking that day you came with TJ.”
TJ
. A tide of emotion flooded my brain, short circuiting my thinking processes. Why did that name sound so familiar?
The pastry melted on my tongue, and I closed my eyes in bliss. “Thank you.
Thank you.
What else can you tell me?”
****
Elizabeth’s home was somewhere I recognised. The huge, shaggy dog that leapt up, also knew me, and I fussed his ears, and felt an echo of a memory. Elizabeth chattered. She told me about the sharp-suited lawyer that had arrived and told her where to find me. How he’d left valuable papers including the ownership deeds to a cottage on the beach that I’d inherited. His name had been Matiu Kaipara, but it meant nothing.
The only name that sang out was TJ. He was important, I felt it in my bones. Elizabeth showed me a picture of him, but as with everyone, I couldn’t recall seeing him before. She looked disappointed, but shrugged it away, and prepared to drive me to the beach.
I knew the cottage instantly. Recognised the wooden carvings inside and out. I picked up a half-finished piece of bleached driftwood and ran my fingers over the smooth surface. I’d worked on this. I could see myself sitting outside, a small knife in my hand, as I carved intricate patterns into the wood. Little pieces of my life crept back in.
Something was still missing though.
Someone
. I knew I waited for him to appear, and it felt as though I’d been doing that for a long time. Forever.
I might never get my memories back, according to the people in white coats, but I was healthy and strong, and grateful to be alive. Everything else would fall into place eventually.
****
A week later I sat in the sunshine, breathing in the sea air, and scraping at a piece of driftwood with a sharp knife. Elizabeth would be calling round later, but for the moment I was alone, and that felt normal. I pushed continuously at the door in my head, but it was as though my memories had been wiped clean.
The sound of frenzied barking heralded her arrival, and I sat up, stretching my back and rolling my shoulders. Sure enough, Butch bounded up to me, to nudge at my hands and slobber on my feet. This time though, she wasn’t alone. This must be TJ.
I recognised him from his picture. Dark, silky hair tumbled over sparkling eyes, above a smile that hit me in my gut. The knife fell from my hand, and I surged to my feet, a swarm of memories punching through the locked door in my head.
His lips. The sound of his laughter. Touching a bruise on his face. Staring into his eyes while we made love. Oh Gods. He was my lover.
“TJ?”
I reached out with shaking hands and he caught them. The flood of memories intensified, a myriad of images. Handing him a towel. Watching him tug on Butch’s lead. Losing myself in his kiss.
“Do you know me, Henare?”
I saw concern in his beautiful eyes, but I could reassure him. At last, I knew something.
“Yes,” I said, unable to hold back my answering smile. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
****
Epilogue
It was a typical winter day when I lit the fire for the first time in Henare’s cottage. An icy southerly wind swept up the beach and whipped the waves into a frenzy, making me glad I sat in the warmth. Henare was still out there, collecting driftwood, and probably throwing sticks for Butch to chase. He’d be frozen when they came back.
Sure enough, when they clattered through the door a few minutes later, they were both soaked from the sea spray, and Henare was shivering. I tossed a hand towel to him. “For your hair, and you can give Butch a rub down too.” He nodded, and after depositing some new pieces of wood on the floor, he turned his attention to my dog, while I returned to the kitchen.
I’d made a rich chicken curry for dinner tonight, something else to tempt my lover’s appetite with. In the six months we’d been together, he ate everything I put in front of him, and claimed to have never tried it before. Whatever had happened to him, it had messed up his memories. Even basic things, like shaving, seemed alien to him. I’d had to teach him, as though he’d never done it before.
His memory dated back precisely to the day we met on the beach. He must have had a life before then, before
me
, but it had been swept away as completely as the
Taniwha
offerings that drifted into the sea. He’d asked me eagerly what he’d been like before, but I didn’t know. All I could say was that his rough edges had softened, and that he smiled more now. He was more relaxed, and I liked to think I might be responsible.
Henare snuck up behind me as I stirred the curry, and rubbed his knuckles down my cheek. “How was work?” he asked, and I shrugged.
“Chilly.” I worked in a local nature reserve, and had spent much of the day repairing fences that had blown down in a spate of bad weather.
“I can warm you.” He wrapped himself around me, and burrowed his hands into my pockets. “Thank you for lighting the fire. Butch has claimed the hearthrug.”
“Are you surprised?” I leaned back against him and smiled when he pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss on my neck. “Don’t let me forget, we’ve got a Skype session with Jools later.” I chatted weekly with my sister, and I’d persuaded Henare to join the last few.
“Do you think she’ll come back to New Zealand? When she’s finished at university?”
“I hope so. I hated it there.” Too many people, houses and cars, and I’d been too far from the sea. I’d also been thousands of miles from Henare. The memory of Elizabeth’s desperate phone call was still raw, as was my urgent change of plans and my panicked flight back home. I closed my hands over his arms and breathed deeply, his familiar scent chasing away the remembered fear.
“How long until we eat?”
I gazed at the pan on the stove. “Half an hour. Why?”
“There’s something new I want to do.” His deft fingers unfastened the button on my jeans. “You and me, on a rug in front of the fire.” He nibbled my earlobe and a shiver ran down my spine. Everything felt new to Henare, and I loved the delighted smile on his face when he found he liked something. Ice cream. Bacon sandwiches. Long showers together.
One day he might recover his memories, but in the meantime, we were busy making new ones, and I’d never been happier. Judging by the heat in his eyes, and the love in his smile, he felt the same.
The End
Author Bio
Romance author Sofia Grey spends her days managing projects in the corporate world and her nights hanging out with wolf shifters and alpha males. She devours pretty much anything in the fiction line, but she prefers her romances to be hot, and her heroes to have hidden depths. When writing, she enjoys peeling back the layers to expose her characters’ flaws and always makes them work hard for their happy endings.
Music is interwoven so tightly into my writing that I can’t untangle the two. Either I’m listening to a playlist on my iPod, have music seeping from my laptop speakers, or there’s a song playing in my head— sometimes on auto-repeat.
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Catch me blogging with Allyson Lindt at
www.GeminiGirls.com