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But beneath the façade of serenity, fear welled, anticipating the coming darkness.

11

Little could keep the bone-chilling cold away. Blustery winds whipped at her face as she tightened her coat around her body and tucked her chin into her scarf. She picked up her pace, shivering by the time she reached her car and dropped into the still-warm interior. A few stray flurries swirled in the wind, melting as they hit the windshield.

Rihanna dropped her fresh bouquets of flowers onto the passenger seat and started the car, turning the heat up as high as it would go. She held her icy fingers to the vents, waiting for the shivering to subside before heading home to the townhouse.

These obscenely cold eves were hard on her body. She missed the balmy eves spent sitting on the terrace or veranda with Moira over tea and pastries. Though the seasons changed and cooler weather now resided over Faery, ’twas not nearly as cold as in this mortal world. Here, the wind could pelt her skin like a hundred ice-tipped needles that drove deep into her body and the wintry weather provednaught more than a mirror to her soul—cold, desolate, and devoid of hope.

Homesickness crept through her chest. She sucked in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the fresh and sweet scent of flowers. One means of bringing her closer to the home she loved and missed dearly. She’d asked Thierry to contact her brother about returning home for a short period. She desperately wanted to see her family and gather a few personal items to keep with her while she maneuvered these unknown waters with Mikhail.

As she navigated the windy mountain roads, a car flew up from behind her, close enough she could make out the light bar across the roof. She double-checked her speed, assured herself she hadn’t broken any laws, and continued ahead, tossing a glance in her rearview every few seconds. Eventually, the cruiser backed off, maintaining a safe distance.

To her surprise, the cruiser followed her as she turned toward Shaye’s townhouse, following the entrance to the complex around the bend. The officer backed off more, slowing as she cautiously pulled her car alongside the front of the townhouse. She found herself holding her breath, her heart thundering in her chest, as she pretended to busy herself with her flowers, but watched curiously as the cruiser rolled by, the officer observing her before continuing ahead at a crawl. She waited until the taillights disappeared around a corner.

“Routine patrol, must be,” she whispered to herself, pressing a hand to her chest. She waited another few seconds to be sure the officer didn’t turn around, then opened the garage door, pulled her car into the driveway, and hurried into the house with her flowers, securing the garage behind her.

Keeping the lights off, she moved through the dark house until she reached the kitchen. Something didn’t set right withher about the officer. He’d followed her from a few miles away. Why would he follow her into the community?

She leaned against the wall and used the tip of her finger to lift one of the slatted blinds enough to peer into the night. A few seconds later, the cruiser crept by again, having back-tracked. Once it passed her home, the officer sped up and headed out of the complex.

“Goddess, what was that about?” she wondered, frowning down at the flowers she had crushed to her chest. She’d been following all the rules and laws. Mayhap the officer mistook her for someone else?

“Possibly.”

Accepting her own explanation—it bothered her, but there had to be a logical reason for the officer’s actions—she switched on the lights throughout the house, laid her bouquets on the counter, and found a nice Celtic station through Alexa. As the soothing melodies of Irish music filled the house, she hummed the tunes as she trimmed the stems of the flowers, adjusting her arrangements in crystal vases.

Consumed by the incident with the police car, the songs, and Mikhail, she almost missed the white pastry box with rustic twine tucked on the corner of the counter. She filled out the last arrangement and retrieved the box. The sugary aroma of pastries hit her nostrils and brought a smile to her mouth. A folded piece of paper was tucked beneath the twine. When she opened it, she couldn’t help but laugh.

Indulgeyour homesickness with some of your favorite treats.

“Thank you, Thierry.”

Rihanna filled a kettle with water and placed it on the stove for tea, her mouth watering in anticipation of sinking her teeth into one of Pompelia’s famous pastries.

The doorbell chimed.

She spun around, startled. For a long moment, she didn’t move. Shaye wouldn’t use the front door. Neither would Thierry. ’Twas a pointless barrier when they could sift into the house. She had no friends or acquaintances who might stop by for a visit.

Swallowing her nervousness, she twisted the ring on her finger so the stone was aligned with her palm and her thumb pressed to the smooth stone. Should she find herself endangered, she’d use it to sift home, however taxing the sift might be on her body. She went through the dining room, staying away from the kitchen windows that flanked the front walkway, and moved stealthily to the door.

The bell chimed again.

She peered through the peephole. A large, hulking figure hunched on the front stoop, shoulders curled over to shield against the wind and snow. A thick coat, baseball cap and a scarf hid her caller in the dark. She hadn’t turned on the porch light, and wasn’t about to now. She tried to see past the caller, detect a vehicle, but all she could see was the back end of her car.

Despite logic warning her against it, she unlocked the bolt and pulled the door open a crack.

“Can I help—”

She gasped when the caller lifted his head. Light from the foyer spread over his utterly handsome face, illuminating his green eyes, sharp nose, and olive skin.

Mind spinning, she slammed the door shut. Or tried to.

Mikhail—nay, nay,Bryce—threw up a hand, smacking his splayed palm against the door. When she looked down,the toe of his boot wedged between the door and the jamb, keeping it from closing completely. Rihanna shielded herself behind the door, pressing her weakening body flat to the surface for support. She peered around the edge of the door, enough to see him as clearly as his clothing allowed.

“How did you find me?” she breathed, struggling to calm her fluttering heart and throbbing soul. Being so close to him was…painful. It shredded the fragile remnants of her broken heart to bits knowing that he had another woman, another life. One that she held no part of.

Bryce raised his arm and leaned against the doorframe, perfectly comfortable with his surprise visit. His scarf fell away from his mouth, giving her a clear view of a breathtaking face she’d seen every day, every eve since his murder. Seeing him the eve prior in the parking lot had unleashed the rush of potent memories, but here, now, with him so close she could smell the woodsy scent of his cologne and feel the heat radiate from his body, her soul wept.