Page 32

The truth is, before Des came roaring back into my life, I was lonely—painfully, achingly lonely, the kind of lonely that comes from feeling like your life is passing you by and there’s no one there to witness it.

The Bargainer squints at me, his face inscrutable. “You no longer want that?”

I meet his eyes. It’s so hard to read him when he’s like this. I take a deep breath. “No, I still want that, but…” It takes only a few extra seconds to pry the words loose. “But now I’m not scared it won’t happen.”

That’s what happens when you discover you have a soul mate. The fear of a lifetime of loneliness evaporates.

Des’s eyes heat at my admission, and I swear if we weren’t in a restaurant full of people, he’d sweep the place settings off the table and make love to me right here.

I clear my throat. “What’s a dream of yours?” I ask, feeling like my skin is lit.

He watches me, his body so still, I feel like he’s waiting for a moment to strike.

Finally, he says, “We share similar dreams.”

“You want a husband too?” I can’t help but tease him.

He flashes me a wolfish smile, choosing that moment to take another—very suggestive—bite of his churro. “Perhaps,” he says, “but you’ll do.”

I all but roll my eyes. “I’mthrilledto be your booby prize.”

His lips curve up. He stares at me for a beat; then, coming to some sort of decision, he kicks his feet off the table. Tossing a few coins next to my plate, he reaches for my hand.

“But I’m not finished…” I complain. I’ve barely touched my ravioli, and I planned to eat the crap out of it. I’m a girl who can throw back her food.

“Want something to go?” he asks.

My lips part, but before I can respond, another churro drops to the table, nearly falling into my ravioli.

Now it’s Des’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Looks like someone has a little case of food envy.”

I totally do. He made his churro lookgood.

I grab mine and let Des lead me out of the restaurant. Outside, the sky is still as dark as ever. I stare up at it as I take a bite of my churro, feeling oddly exhilarated.

Our boots echo along the street as we walk. I don’t know where we’re going, but I don’t much care. Nights like this are familiar to the two of us. Countless times Des took me to some foreign metropolis, and together we’d wander the streets. Sometimes he’d ply us both with alcohol, other times coffee and pastries.

“This reminds me of our past,” I murmur.

Des takes my hand before bringing it to his lips and giving it a kiss.

I feel my heart expand. I get to have this man forever. A lifetime of Des at my side. It’s such a wild thought, I’m not sure I’ll ever fully get used to it.

We get to the end of the block of shops. Here the street opens into a grand plaza. Right in the center of it is a sculpture of a winged couple holding each other in a tight embrace. The sculpture floats several feet in the air.

I pause in front of it.

“Who are they?” I ask, staring at the couple. The woman seems made of the same dark stone my beads are, her skin drawing in the light. The man she embraces is made of some shimmering sandstone, his skin seeming to glow from within.

“The Lovers,” Des replies. “Two of our ancient gods.” He points to the man. “He’s Fierion, God of Light, and she’s Nyxos, Goddess of Darkness.”

Nyxos…why does that name sound familiar?

“In the myths,” Des continues, “Fierion was married to Gaya, Goddess of Nature, but his true love was Nyxos, the woman he was forbidden from ever being with. Their love for each other is what causes day to chase night and night to chase day.

“Here in the Land of Dreams, they’re finally allowed to be with each other.”

I stare at the sculpture a long time, finishing off my churro. Even though it’s just a myth, the tragedy of it still gets to me. I hate doomed love stories. Life’s filled with enough heartache as it is.