Vengeance (26 page)

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Authors: JL Wilson

Tags: #romance

BOOK: Vengeance
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We just made love. That should count for something
. I don't why it hurt, but it did. Why wouldn't she trust me? Didn't she know how I felt? Didn't she know...I hesitated to say the words even to myself. Didn't she know I loved her?

I shoved back from the table and Lucinda jerked, the cell phone flying out of her pocket to the floor. The orange kitten pounced on it, wrestling it to a halt with a throaty little growl. He clasped it to his belly and prepared to pummel it to death with his hind legs.

"Give me that." I grabbed it from the tiny marauder. He sprawled defenselessly on the floor, peering up at me with saucer-like gray eyes that reminded me uncomfortably of Lucinda's.

I tossed the phone back on the table and stalked to the refrigerator. "What do I have to do to earn your trust?" I jerked the door open so hard that a magnet popped off, scattering brightly colored coupons on the floor. "Why do you bother with these coupons? They're not worth anything."

"I take them to the Humane Society. They give them to people who need help paying for pet food, senior citizens and other people on fixed incomes."

I glanced over my shoulder at her. She had that defiant tilt to her chin. "If they can't afford pets, they shouldn't bother to adopt one."

"This coming from a man who spent sixty thousand dollars on a car," she shot back.

"I didn't spend sixty thousand on my car." I pulled out the tiramisu from the fridge and set it on the counter. "Who said I spent that on my car?"

Liar
, Cerberus said from his spot near Lucinda.

Does he lie? Mommy said lying was bad. She said it's easier to keep track of the truth than to keep track of a bunch of lies
. The orange kitten flicked his tail at me, a gesture as insulting as a human's one-finger salute then sauntered across the room to sit near Cerberus. Two sets of animal eyes regarded me with alert suspicion.

It's not a lie
, I seethed.
I spent seventy thousand
.

"John told me," Lucinda said. "Why would someone waste that much money on a car?"

"I don't consider it a waste. Quit changing the subject. Why won't you trust me?"

"I didn't change it, you did, when you made that comment about my coupons."

I tested the tiramisu. It had set enough to cut. "Do you want some of this?"

"What is it?"

She slouched in her chair, her shoulders hunched, glowering at me through narrowed eyes. Cerberus's snout rested on her leg and she had her hand on his head. The orange kitten was pressed against Cerberus as though seeking protection. They were ganging up on me. "It's not poison. Some people consider it a bit of heaven in your mouth."

Her mouth twitched at this description. I flushed when I remembered just an hour or so earlier, when I kissed my way down her body and tasted her while I rested between her thighs. I said something very similar then.

I smelled it when he cooked it. Try some. And maybe share some with me
, Cerberus said in a dreamy voice.

I pointed my serving spoon at the dog. "Don't you dare give him any. He'll be up all night pooping."

"Do you have something better planned for your night?"

I dropped the spoon and strode across the room. Cerberus ducked under her chair as I leaned over Lucinda, who shot upright and looked up at me with wide, startled eyes. "I'm going to make love to you until you pass out," I threatened, staring down at her.

Her ears turned pink. "Bold words."

I kissed her, hard. "It's a promise." I went back to the counter. I put a generous helping of creamy dessert on a chipped saucer. I brought it to her and set it down with a flourish. She took a tentative bite as I dished out some for myself.

"It's good," she said in wonder. "So was the lasagna. Where did you learn to cook like this? Did you go to a culinary school?"

Julia Child and I attended Le Cordon Bleu together in post-War France, but I couldn't tell Lucinda that. I sat down and picked up my wine tumbler. "Just one of the many things I do." I sampled the tiramisu and decided it was acceptable.

"I'm sorry about the trust thing," she said in a low voice. "I guess I'm out of the habit. And I've only known you for a few days. It's hard."

Cerberus wiggled out from under her chair and put his head on her knee, peering up at her.
I understand
, he said.
It's okay.

Look at you, you're groveling
, I said.

If you were smart, you'd be groveling too
. His tail began a staccato thump on the floor, nearly hitting the kitten, who stared at it in fascination.
Share with the hungry doggy, please?

"I feel as though I've known you forever," I said. "Truly."

Her head snapped up in startled surprise. "Really?" Her ears pinkened again. "That's sweet." Then she ducked her head, as though embarrassed.

Cerberus pressed closer.
I'm sweet too
.

She laughed and rubbed his head. "Yes, you're sweet too."

He and I both drew back. Lucinda was busy putting a dollop of tiramisu on her lasagna plate and missed our reaction. "Just a little bit won't hurt you," she murmured, setting the plate on the floor.

What's that? Can I have some? What is it? It smells good. Can't I have a taste? Come on, share with me
. The orange kitten swarmed over Cerberus, who deftly nudged the tiny body aside as he gobbled down the sweet treat. The kitten sniffed greedily at his mouth.

I watched this domestic scene, smiling. Lucinda straightened up and met my gaze.
You're beautiful
, I whispered. It was true. Her skin was flushed with laughter and her tousled hair gave her the appearance of a woodland creature. I knew now what was hidden under that demure chenille bathrobe. My fingers itched with the desire to explore her lush body again.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

I reached across the table and touched her hand. "You're very beautiful. I hope you'll learn to trust me some day."

She flinched at the contact but didn't pull away. "I promised my father, Nico."

"Don't worry. I understand." I stood up, drawing her with me. "Let me make good on that promise." I tugged her toward me, heat pooling in my abdomen.

Her arms went around me, sliding under my shirt. "Are you sure? Those bruises of yours looked bad."

I pried the neckline of her robe open and touched the bruise on her collarbone. "Yours are as bad, if not worse." I kissed the mottled flesh, peering up at her. "Are you sure it's okay?"

For answer she undid the robe's belt. It parted, revealing her breasts with the erect, rosy nipples. "I'm sure." She let the robe slide to the floor.

I lifted her in my arms and moved toward the living room. "Hang on, love. I've got you."

"I'm counting on it," she whispered.

* * * * *

 

For the first time in more than two hundred years, I didn't have nightmares as I slept. Granted, I only dozed, but I awoke refreshed, energized and without that clinging, frightened feeling that used to characterize what passed for sleep with me.

Lucinda was in my arms as we lay on the couch. The logs in the fireplace still crackled, but I felt the chill in the air. I disentangled myself from her long enough to feed the flames, then I snuggled back under the afghan and drew her back into my embrace.

Our lovemaking was one of the most unique experiences of my life. As I kissed her, touched her, entered her body, I not only felt my emotions, but I experienced her emotions too. It was as though she inhabited a portion of my soul and that portion was revealed as I joined my body to hers. I
knew
her passion, her excitement. I knew when to hold back and when to be rough. I knew when she was near orgasm. When she climaxed, I was with her, feeling the odd rush of warmth so different than a man's ejaculation. It was exhilarating and disorienting at the same time.

Cerberus raised his head from his paws. He was a ghostly shadow in the corner, his pale blue eyes luminous in the light from the fire and the moon, which shone into the windows that lined the room.

Do you finally believe it?
His voice was as soft as the hiss of the flames as they consumed the dry wood in the grate.

I shifted so I lay on my back, Lucinda sprawled on me with one leg over mine, pinning me down.
Believe what?

That she's your love. That she's...your True Companion?

Drowsy though I was, I recognized the insistence in his voice. I struggled to put together pieces of the puzzle. True Companions were those members of the History Patrol who attained forgiveness and still traveled with their Guides. "Is she a True?" I whispered.

It's a bit complicated
. Cerberus shifted, looking anywhere but at me.

My life had become one giant complication. "Take your time," I breathed.

He made an odd hacking sound. He was either getting sick again or stalling.
As you know, you were born in 1750, in Yorkshire. Your father was a county squire. He and your mother loved each other very, very much.

I shivered, memories rushing through my mind. A woman with dark brown hair, bending over me. A man with laughing gray eyes, holding my hand. Scenes from my past, from both of my pasts, rushed through me like a swirling wind.

The crackle of the fire in the grate was the only obvious sound in the room. Lucinda's head rested on my chest, her face rosy in the light. I kissed her forehead and she made a small noise as she nestled closer to me.

You worked for your father, who had an estate and who also invested in ships sailing to and from America. In 1790, you went to the colonies on business. You met Lucinda Delacroix and fell in love. You planned to marry her and return to England to live.

My hand stilled on Lucinda's shoulder. In my mind's eye I saw the ship that brought me to the colonies. I smelled the waves, the stench of weeks of confinement, the men who worked the rigging. I could almost feel the sunlight on my face.

She was the daughter of one of your father's business partners. Remember, this was 1790, during the aftermath of the War for Independence. Lucinda's family had been supporters of the Crown. When you arrived, it didn't look good. To make a long story short, she was blackmailed into turning you in as a spy. It was a choice between you and her brother and she couldn't turn him in. You were the scapegoat. You were killed and she was murdered just a short time later.

I started to speak, but he pushed on, shifting on the rug and edging closer to the fire.
You were reborn in 2150 and in 2190 you were recruited for the History Patrol. As you know, the Patrol sends out Guides and Companions to locations in time to observe history and to find those people who used the Portal but didn't return at their specified time. As a Guide, you knew that all Companions with the History Patrol are reincarnated souls who are serving penance of some kind. What you didn't know--what no Guide knows--is that the Companion is one part of a pair of lovers. You, the Guide, are the other part.

You were assigned Persa, who was the reincarnation of Lucinda Persephone Delacroix. She was given a chance to serve penance for her sin and Travel with you as your Companion. You served together for five years, then you were sent back in time to 1790 to the place where it all started. It was Lucinda's chance to ask your forgiveness and fulfill her penance.

"But Meyer intervened," I whispered.

Yes. Meyer. He's a bit of unfinished business. The History Patrol has been after him for a long time. And now with this thing with the Spanish flu...
Cerberus was silent for a long time, as his head cocked as though listening to a voice only he could hear. Finally, he resumed his recitation.
Anyway, Lucinda was killed and you were killed too, albeit briefly.

His words stirred a feeling in me--unease? Dread? I couldn't identify it.

You died when Meyer injected you with his drug, but you were dead only briefly. In a sense, you were reborn. Cerberus snorted. God was a bit unhappy about that. It doesn't appreciate having someone act in Its stead in matters of rebirth
.

"It?" I asked softly.

Cerberus shrugged, his massive shoulders a dark silhouette in the gloom of his corner.
There's no good concept to categorize God. 'It' seems to be the best term. Anyway, you died, the reincarnated Lucinda died then you came back to life before your recall chip could be activated. It was quite a dilemma for the History Patrol. In the end, God had to intervene and give us advice.
He made that huffing noise.
That didn't please upper management. I was sent here to lend a paw and give advice.

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