Page 16
A nna’s aging metal kettle whistled a shrill protest from the stove, though whether it was in defiance of the home shopping channel’s host currently selling a far fancier glass electric kettle or in pleasure at finally being heard over the din of the storm, she had no clue. All Anna had to go on were two things: the storm, at last, was dying down, and even muted, her television was still her most reliable companion.
It had almost been a full day since the Flaming Debacle, as she was calling it, and Iron had made himself about as available as a groundhog who’d not only seen his shadow but had thought up every possible predator who could lurk inside of it.
On the one hand, if she hadn’t had so many things to work through, she would have given him credit for the manner and skill with which he’d avoided her. On the other very discerning and hyperaware hand, she didn’t really care how much food he’d left her or how he’d managed to use his magic to begin clearing her property out from the storm. Abandonment was abandonment. Mental, physical, it didn’t matter. Which pissed her the hell off, because she barely had enough energy left in her emotional reserves to manage her own hurt, let alone the obvious pain that being in her presence was causing him.
Anna poured the hot water over the very caffeinated coffee grounds—because, desperate times and all that, time of day be damned—and let the steam seep into her pores while the water funneled through the coffee filter. The heat was a mellow kiss that chased away the cold just long enough to let other memories filter in, ones that contained a far different kind of heat.
Her entire body had been set on fire, and that was before literal flames had engulfed her and Iron. She’d felt the pull the instant he’d shifted his fingers from those game pieces so hers were in the cage of his own instead. A pulsating force had warmed within her belly, an acknowledgment of not only her desire but a confirmation of his as well. It was a punch designed to knock out everything she had previously thought was load bearing, and she’d fallen into it gladly, desperately. Wantonly.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed like that, with the same thoroughness and wonder that called explorers to mountaintops. There were promises in that kiss, the way his tongue slid over hers in satiny caresses, and she would have happily stayed there searching out every last one if it hadn’t been for the power she’d called out of him.
Yes, she’d known what to expect. Iron had told her as much. During one of her many rounds of twenty questions, he’d explained all of it. How the soul bond connection grew in correlation to the physical intimacy of those who were bonded. The more he touched her, tasted her, knew her, the more power she’d pull and command from him until, eventually, she’d set his full angel fire free and his celestial power would no longer be a prisoner of the clock.
The flames erupting around her had been a shock but not nearly as much as the regret on Iron’s face once the dust settled.
Anna took up residence in her armchair and eyed the couch over the lip of her coffee cup. He’d slept there again last night, even though he likely didn’t need to, now that she knew the full extent of his powers. Just as before, her quilt was folded neatly on the arm of the couch, and there was barely even a depression to hint that Iron had trusted her furniture enough to support him through sleep.
Every step and movement Iron took in her house spoke of obligation, including the ones that led him outside, where he currently was, doing what he needed to do to clear a path for his truck down the hill. Angel fire, celestial strength, and metallic manipulation worked wonders on tree and snow removal, apparently.
She was far deeper in thought than was healthy when Iron walked through her front door, shaking the snow from his hood and boots. “Tree’s all cleared, and I got enough of your driveway and the road to your house cleaned out so, come morning, you should be able to make it into town okay. The worst of the snowfall is behind us, and the all-wheel drive on your Subaru can handle the rest. Already heard a few plows taking to the main streets. And if the power’s not back on by morning, I can”—he twisted his lips and seemed to debate over a word—“ play with the transformer that supplies power to your private road.”
Play. Ah. He means work his metal magic.
“That’s good. Thank you.” Anna looked out her picture window, and despite the evening’s dark chill that had descended around them, the moon still put in a good effort to illuminate the snow, which had gone from a downpour to a dusting.
Strange how winter’s purpose was called into question the moment it stopped snowing, as if its relevance was only measured in relation to what it could either provide or pummel into powerlessness.
Anna smiled back against the morose metaphor, having no interest in picking at that barely healed scab just yet. “Are you getting ready to turn off the generator for the night?”
Iron rubbed the back of his neck. “I was going to ask whether you wanted me to do it now or come back later to take care of it.”
She brought the coffee away from her lips. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’m going to head out.” He shifted away from her, as if he already had half a mind to end the conversation before it began.
As if he’d made a monumental mistake in trusting a crazy single pregnant lady with his secret and would rather be anywhere else.
“Iron, wait. Can we talk about this? I feel like you’ve been avoiding me, and I don’t know what I did wrong.”
“I’m not avoiding you, and you didn’t do a thing wrong. I’m just trying not to overwhelm you. Trying to keep my distance, you know? That’s some scary shit that I put you through, and I don’t want to be responsible if you decide to pretend the whole thing never happened.”
“Hold up.” Anna held her palm out in front of him. “First, you are a thousand percent responsible for the fact that I even had anything to eat beyond cupcake wrappers and cereal box cardboard. And second, why the hell would I want to pretend any of this never happened?”
“Because I almost set your house on fire,” he hissed, his flare of aggression catching her off guard. “Because you have a baby growing inside you, one that relies on you to be as happy and healthy as possible. You don’t need the stress that comes with living in my world, Anna.”
“Don’t tell me what I need,” she gritted out. “Did you ever stop and think that maybe I needed to feel special, for once? That it felt goddamn wonderful to kiss you, to feel you kiss me back, to actually have someone want to kiss me back, even though I’m pregnant with another man’s child?”
She lowered her shoulders away from her ears and tried not to let the wave of disappointment take her out again. “It was nice , Iron, being with you, having you here. I kind of forgot how lonely it can be sometimes, and how frickin’ hard it is pretending that being single and pregnant is no big deal. So, yeah, I’ve been a little starved for company lately, and even though I don’t understand your world yet ,” she emphasized, hoping like hell he got her meaning, “I’m willing to be overwhelmed by it for a little bit if it means I can keep seeing you from time to time.” Then Anna plucked down the thought she’d been worrying over all day. “But if my pregnancy bothers you so much?—”
Iron’s hand stilled on the doorknob. “You have no idea what you’re asking, Anna.”
She tried not to cringe when he silently sidestepped around her fear in favor of spotlighting his own. “So, tell me. Keep talking. I like talking. Hell, I talk into a computer for a living. You’d be surprised to find that I’m actually really good at it.”
A smile teased the corner of his lips, and she had the audacity to hope that it was enough to convince him to keep talking to her.
“If you leave,” she added, “will I see you again, in person or otherwise?” The otherwise in question being a dreamworld that held even more unanswered secrets than the ones he clearly wasn’t yet willing to share with her.
“I don’t know.”
White-hot slashes whipped across her memory, scraping new gouges of abandonment into her war-torn flesh. “Oh.”
“But I’ll call you. Look,” he said, running his hand through his hair, “I don’t know how to keep you and your baby from getting wrapped up in my world—a very dangerous world.”
“You found me, though. That shard of the relic, it was seeking me out, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “And that’s why I need to go, at least for a little while. Now that I know what it was pointing me toward, I want to try and figure out what it all means.”
“You mean, beyond just getting your full power back through the soul bond?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t understand. Isn’t that something you want regardless, after so long being without it?” It was as close to repeating her earlier plea as she could bring herself to mention without groveling and completely hating herself in the morning.
Iron’s gaze struck her, and she gasped at the fiery topaz flames burning there. “More than anything.”
“Then why can’t we at least get to know each other better?”
“Because I have enemies, demons who would love nothing more than to slit your throat and watch the light of your soul bleed out just to fuck with me.”
A dark coldness snaked along her skin, and Iron’s even darker grin froze her body further.
“That’s right, Anna. The beings I kill don’t go down quietly, and they aren’t above using the most brutal tactics to ensure they get what they want. Which is why I need to be sure I’m doing the right thing here.”
“What is the right thing?”
“Keeping you safe from my sins.”
“What sins?”
Iron shook his head. Exhaustion had carved lines into his features. “I don’t want to do this.”
“This? You mean deal with me?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I just . . . I just need some time to figure things out.”
“Do I get a say in any of this?”
“Anna . . .”
“No, I’m serious.” She leaped to her feet and put her hands on her hips. “You can’t perch yourself on my doormat and say that none of this is personal or spout some of that it’s not you, it’s me bullshit. You are literally standing where Travis was when he walked out on me. Because I became inconvenient. Because our baby became inconvenient. A problem to be dealt with or handled. So, forgive me if I’m not willing to put up with that same line of crap from another male who thinks they know what’s good for me.”
Anna pointed a finger at her chest. “ I know what’s good for me, and after dreaming about you for three months, it was a damn blessing to know that I wasn’t crazy and that there was a reason for the dreams. The idea of a soul bond may send you running, but you know what? For me, it feels really damn nice. The concept that I could be on someone’s team and I would make them more powerful, more meaningful in their mission, is an intoxicating feeling to wrap one’s head around. Do I have a shit ton more to learn? Sure, you bet, but I’m willing to do the work and explore what it all means, regardless of the baby I’m bringing into the world. So, if you feel more comfortable walking out that door than having a conversation and learning right alongside me, then I can’t help you.”
Anna put her mug on the kitchen counter and stomped down the hall. When she got to the bathroom, she stopped, placed her hand on the wall, and spoke over her shoulder. “Feel free to turn the generator off. I’m done for the night. And when you’re willing to talk, you know how to reach me. We shared a mind for months, Iron, and despite how alien this all is to me, I’m not willing to have the door slam in my face because you’re too afraid to hold it open for me.”
She kept going down the hall, and only when the wood of her bedroom door kissed her back, bolstering whatever strength she had left, did she finally let her body sink to the floor. A short time later, Iron’s boots retreated from her living room, the cabin grew quiet, and the generator shuddered its final tremors into the rafters.
She was alone. Again. But this time, there was no unseeing her circumstances or shirking off the cold that no amount of blankets or hot tea could ever have the hope of fighting off.