Page 17 of The Brave (Black Arrowhead #6)

A tticus kept his shutters on a timer. Before dawn, they slowly opened in my bedroom, rousing me out of my sleep. I lay there for a while, watching the sky lighten and the stars disappear while remembering our kiss. I thought about it for longer than I would have cared to admit.

After washing up and fixing my hair, I got dressed and realized I was no longer anxious. The Vampires weren’t a threat anymore, and my pack was safe.

When I opened my bathroom door, I was bathed in a blanket of sunshine. Tempted by the view, I rounded the bed when fresh roses on the table caught my eye. Not only was the table set, but there were dome-covered platters with beautiful etchings in the silver.

“What in the world?”

Atticus must have sneaked in while I was getting ready. I removed the lids and licked my lips at the sight of cantaloupe, sausages, eggs, berries, and sliced avocado. He’d also left me croissants, orange juice, and a bottle of pills. On top of all that was a mountain of buttermilk biscuits—more than enough to feed an army.

When I rattled the bottle of pills, a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in.”

Atticus opened the door but didn’t enter. “Milly suggested you take three pills a day—one with each meal. They’re supposed to quell the indigestion.”

“Why are they so huge ?”

He chuckled softly. “They also contain a few vitamins.”

“Did she stuff a whole carrot in here? Gracious. I’m going to choke on these.” I popped one of the large pills and chased it with orange juice. Then I lifted a croissant. “Did you make these yourself?”

He bit back a smile. “Guilty.” Atticus always dressed handsomely without overdressing for an occasion. Today he had on dark canvas pants and a white V-neck. The clothes were nice yet casual.

I tasted the soft, flaky pastry. “Mmm. This is delicious.”

“I drizzled honey on top.”

“You spoil me.” When I reached for a chair, he rushed over to seat me.

“May I join you?” Atticus touched the chair opposite me, and I gestured for him to sit.

I appreciated his attentiveness. Atticus single-handedly defied every prejudice I’d held against Vampires.

Not to mention he was a phenomenal kisser. I felt a blush rising to my cheeks when my gaze lingered on his lips for too long.

His eyes twinkled as I hungrily cleaned my plate. “Would you like a buttermilk biscuit?”

I stared at the mountain to my left. “But you made croissants. Why the biscuits?”

“All women love biscuits, do they not?”

I smothered a laugh. “Not thirty.”

He turned his gaze to the roses. “I wasn’t sure which one you would want more, so I made both.”

“You had a busy morning.”

“Indeed.”

We had a light conversation about the weather, both of us flirting with our eyes but avoiding the topic of last night’s kiss.

After I finished my breakfast, I was relieved to find that I didn’t have any burning or reflux. “Milly’s magic pill did the trick.” I smiled at the rhythmic jumping in my belly. “He has the hiccups.”

“He?”

“Or she.”

Atticus rose to his feet and wandered across the room. “How long have you been into knitting?”

I gulped down my orange juice and stood. “Less than a year. I needed a hobby to occupy my mind after escaping the labs.”

Atticus twirled a knitting needle between his fingers. “It’s a clever hobby for someone afraid of Vampires.”

No one had ever made the connection that my wooden needles were made from impalement wood. Whenever we went out, I would carry them in my purse, along with a bit of yarn. They offered a sense of security, and I desperately needed that since I had no intention of letting anyone capture me again.

He set the needles back in the chair. “I didn’t hear any sounds coming from your room last night… or this morning. Did you not find the gift pleasing?”

I glanced at the vibrator on the bedside table. “You just happened to have one lying around? A lady doesn’t want a used pleasure toy. Besides, I was only teasing last night.”

Or was I? My craving for his touch certainly hadn’t disappeared. In fact, it was all I could think about during my shower.

He approached and dipped his chin. “It wasn’t used. I had my pilot run a quick errand.”

I belted out a laugh. “That’s even worse!”

“Let me clear the dishes. Would you like to keep the biscuits in here?”

“I’ll have one as a midmorning snack. Maybe with bacon or sausage inside.”

“Very well.”

While he collected the dishes on a large tray, I admired the way his hair was styled loosely back with some locks falling out of place. I imagined his eyes were once pale blue. His features were Nordic, which wouldn’t have been far from his homeland. Perhaps that was where his people originally came from. I remembered one of my packmates remarking how he looked like a model on a romance cover, but I’d never seen him that way. Just enigmatic and dangerous.

After spending time with him, I was beginning to notice everything, like the tiny dark moles on his neck and the way his tongue sometimes rubbed the tip of his fangs.

“Why do Vampires have such beautiful skin? I didn’t think you could have moles.”

He slowly brought a raspberry to his lips and ate it. “It’s the magic of our maker’s blood mingling with our own. It reverses scars and sun damage, returning it to the condition and color we had at birth. Any marks we’re born with, we keep.”

“But you have lines between your eyes,” I pointed out.

He straightened up and gripped the back of the chair. “Well, when we’re first made, all the wrinkles caused by the sun are healed. That includes lost collagen.” He set the last plate on the tray and showed me his palm. “See those lines? We’re born with them. You also have them on some of your joints because the skin is looser there. And we get lines from repeated muscle movements. The transition restores our skin to how it was at birth, but we can still develop lines on our face over time. If you frown enough, you’ll create wrinkles.”

“I don’t see many wrinkly Vampires.”

A smile touched his lips. “We don’t wrinkle as easily as everyone else, and not as quickly. Otherwise I’d look like a raisin. Maybe the older we get, the less expressive we are.” He set a glass on the tray. “I’ve seen a few Vampires who were turned when they were past their prime. Not many would choose an older person, but you know what I found interesting?”

“What?”

“They didn’t have age spots or other skin damage. You couldn’t see the veins in their hands anymore, and they had the elasticity of a twenty-year-old. Yet they were clearly older.”

“It must be nice to never age.”

He shrugged. “I’ll never know what I’d look like as a forty-year-old man. Or eighty. The world will age, and I’ll remain the same, like one of the statues in my parlor. Maybe that’s a little sad.”

After he left the room, I pondered his words while stroking the lush rose petals. Everything aged in the cycle of life, but Atticus would never know what that felt like, for better or for worse.

I dipped my face into the red blooms and drew in a breath. The petals tickled my nose, and when I opened my eyes, I shrieked in horror at spiny black legs crawling up my nose. While stumbling backward, I slapped at my face like a crazy woman.

A crash sounded in the hall, and a split second later, Atticus burst into the room. The next thing I knew, he had me pinned against the wall, his eyes trained on the room.

“Where’s the threat?” His caged voice made the hair on my arms stand up.

I shuddered. “Spider.”

He frowned, but a laugh burst free when I swatted my face again. “Are you afraid of everything with fangs?”

“Is it in my hair?”

He assessed my curls before running his fingers through them. A heat sparked in my blood with his body pressed against mine, his hands in my hair, his masculine scent, his heart thumping against my chest.

Atticus looked over his shoulder and then veered away, oblivious to my growing desire. My racing heart from the scare must have thrown him off.

He placed his hand on the floor and collected the insect. “Why do you fear them?”

“Because we’re not immune to venom.” I straightened my blouse, which tied below my breasts. “It might hurt the baby.”

Atticus shook his head before cupping his hands around the spider. “You could do more harm to this tiny creature than he could do to you. He’s just a common house spider. Nothing to fear. I’ll take him outside to wither in the sun.”

“You can take him all the way into the woods for all I care.”

He laughed while sliding open the balcony door and stepping out into the sunshine. When he returned, he was squinting so hard that I couldn’t see his eyes.

“Does sunlight hurt terribly?” I asked.

He crossed the room and blinked a few times. “It feels the same as it would if you looked directly at the sun. The older you get, the higher your threshold for pain.”

“I never realized it hurt for the ancients. You should wear sunglasses more often.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle. I usually wear them while running errands, but not in my own home.”

I glanced through the open doorway at the dishes and food that Atticus had dropped all over the hallway floor. “Gosh, I’m sorry about that. All those biscuits…”

“No worries, my lady. I can always make more.”

“Maybe I’ll help. I’ve never made biscuits before. Have you heard from my pack this morning?”

“They’re still busy wrapping things up from last night. Cleaning evidence, disposing of bodies, getting rid of a vehicle—that takes time. I suspect Tak will call me this evening with an update.”

I drifted toward the door. “Do you have anything to do around here? Or should I nest in my room with my knitting needles? We should have some fun.”

“Fun?” Atticus joined my side. “I have just the thing.”

The black ball rolled toward the white pins at the end of the lane. When I heard that delightful sound of pins knocking, I cheered.

Atticus chuckled softly. “That wasn’t a strike.”

With a smile on my face, I sauntered to the leather bench seat and sat beside him. “This is marvelous. I haven’t bowled in decades.”

“Why not?”

“People were so enamored by Marilyn that it was impossible to go out and have fun while she was still alive. They saw the resemblance and felt they needed to interrupt me to tell me who I looked like or see if I was her. Some asked me out and others wanted to join me in whatever I was doing. Most of them were nice about it, but sometimes I just wanted to be left alone.”

“What about after she died?”

I felt hot all of a sudden and fanned my blouse. “Believe it or not, it was harder for me to go out after she died. Tourists wanted pictures, and people on the street treated me like a novelty. I didn’t wear makeup or tight clothes when I was shopping, running errands, or having lunch—that was only for work or parties with friends. I’ve had people tell me it’s my lips and smile that bear the most resemblance. When I’m dolled up, you’d never know the difference. It’s sad because that’s not who she really was, and it’s not who I am either.”

He stretched his legs out. “I once heard that everyone has a doppelg?nger. At least you found a way to profit from it. That was a clever way for a rogue wolf to make money during that time.”

“Breed clubs paid much more than human ones, especially if you were the star act. Back then the entertainment was how they packed them in. It’s not that way anymore.”

Atticus lifted a tiny pair of tongs. “More cheese?”

“Well, perhaps just one more.”

As if I hadn’t already eaten a whole block.

Atticus not only had a bowling alley in his basement, where we’d spent the past two hours playing, but he also had a dumbwaiter. After preparing a charcuterie board of meats, cheeses, fruits, veggies, and dip, he sent it down the dumbwaiter along with drinks. Though I desperately missed my pack, I felt spoiled in his care. Not only that, but he was a good host and always kept the conversation going.

Atticus placed two pieces of gourmet cheese on a napkin and handed it to me.

“You should show my Packmaster this room,” I said around a piece of cheese. “If they saw this, they might build their own bowling alley. We certainly have enough land. Can you imagine?” I finished the second cheese slice. “You and your friends must have a lot of fun down here.”

Atticus took off his bowling shoes and put on his leather ones. “I only trust one person to visit my home, and that’s my personal assistant. Suffice it to say, we don’t bowl together.”

“That’s a shame.”

“He doesn’t like bowling.”

I wadded up my napkin. “No, I mean about you not trusting anyone enough to invite them over.”

“A person’s home is their sanctuary and should be reserved for loyal friends and family. I don’t have either.”

“That’s not true. Melody speaks highly of you. Hope and Lakota as well.”

He anchored his arms on the back of the bench, making his biceps pop through his tight long-sleeved shirt. “Tak and I have a ways to go before he fully trusts me. Even then, who would drive all this way?”

“People who are bored with sitting around the house building chicken coops and barns, that’s who. It would be a shorter drive than to Austin. Packs have peace parties to create bonds between neighbors, and we haven’t had one. Mainly due to Hamish, our next-door neighbor. He’s bitter about us buying what used to be his land, but that’s another story. Who says peace parties only have to include packs? You’re our neighbor. That would be a great opportunity for you and Tak to get to know each other better—away from your club. We could invite everyone.”

“That would interest me.”

When I leaned forward to remove my shoes, I realized I couldn’t touch my feet anymore. “It’s as if I’m growing bigger by the hour.”

Atticus knelt before me. “May I?”

I nodded.

As he untied my shoes, his gaze fixed on my blouse. “That color is becoming on you. It brings out your eyes.”

I glanced down at the blue fabric. The wide neckline fell off one shoulder, which I liked. The embroidered designs across the chest weren’t something I would have ever chosen for myself, but the fabric was soft and cozy. “You went the extra mile buying me an entire wardrobe—even bowling shoes. It wasn’t necessary.”

As soon as my second shoe came off, he gave me a foot massage. “I haven’t looked after someone in a long while. It’s nice. Where were you raised?”

“Baltimore.”

“Have you gone back?”

I shook my head. “Not since I left.”

Still massaging my foot, he asked, “Do you miss anything about it?”

“Well, there was a pond near our home that would freeze up some winters. We used to go ice-skating on it. I was a terrible skater,” I said with a laugh, “but my friend could do all these tricks and spins. It’s sad to think about it now. My childhood is gone, my home is gone, and nothing is the same.”

“I know the feeling. You get attached to certain places for different reasons, and going back years later is a bittersweet reminder of the good times gone. I once tried finding my childhood home, but so much has built up around there that I don’t have a clue where it used to be. They probably built a train station over my mother’s remains.”

The topic was depressing me. “You should put some music on. Do you have a playlist on your phone?”

“Phone?” Atticus stood and walked toward the back. “I have something better. Vinyl.”

“Oh!” I scooted to the edge of the seat, impressed by his nostalgia.

“What do you like?”

“The oldies.”

Atticus erupted with laughter. “I’m three thousand years old. What do you consider oldies?”

After pushing myself up, I replied, “Anything from the fifties or sixties would be fun.” I smiled playfully. “Nineteen hundreds.”

He opened up a lower cabinet, which revealed a plethora of record albums.

“Virgil would love this. He has a collection of his own.”

“Does he? I’d like to see it. He might have a few I’ve been searching for.” After selecting one, he pulled out the black disc and placed it on the turntable. When the needle dropped, it crackled on the speakers before Otis Redding crooned the opening lyrics to “These Arms of Mine.”

I swayed as the music brought back memories.

Atticus held out his hand, offering me a dance.

And I took it.

As soon as his arm came around my waist, he moved and swayed like a professional.

“You can really dance!” I said with a light gasp.

He didn’t just slow dance with a few steps side to side. No, Atticus moved his body with mine, guiding me into a sensual rhythm. When I gazed into his dark eyes, a connection stirred between us, and I felt myself falling for him.

Why am I feeling this way?

Because his unwavering devotion to my happiness touched me. Atticus was a wonderful person to be around. While I appreciated everything Salem had done for me, he was clinical. He monitored my health not because he cared for me but because that was his job. If my feet hurt, he would tell me to lie down. If I was depressed or having trouble sleeping, he gave me a pill.

Atticus tilted his head to the side. “What are you thinking about?”

How wonderful his arms felt around me? How this was all happening so fast and it scared me that I was falling for him?

Hope’s words whispered in my head: Our wolves always know who we belong with.

But my wolves were hibernating, so they weren’t any help. I broke up the dance and stepped back.

His eyes were brimming with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“I keep overstepping my boundaries.” He stalked down the bowling lane and gathered up the wooden pins.

I crossed my arms. “Why did you change the pins when we first came down?”

“The ones I use for myself are steel.”

I chortled. “Steel?”

A pin fell from beneath his arm, and he comically gathered it while struggling to hold on to the other nine. “Sometimes I bowl with a temper. I had to replace a lot of broken pins and balls.” With a flustered look on his face, he flounced down the lane, slipped, and then landed on his back, bowling pins scattering everywhere.

I carefully walked up the oily lane. When I reached him, I offered my hand. “Maybe you should take up something less destructive, like badminton.”

Instead of standing, he just held my hand and stared up at me with soulful eyes. “Am I reprehensible?”

My eyebrows popped up. “Why would you ask such a thing? You’ve entertained me, served me scrumptious food, spoiled me with your care, and have been nothing less than a gentleman.”

His gaze lowered to our hands. “I mean… Do you find me beyond consideration? If I were a Shifter, would you feel differently?”

The question was so direct that it caught me off guard. Had it been a wolf at my feet, would I feel differently? It left me wondering if my own prejudices were holding me back.

I squeezed his hand. “If I’ve left you with any impression that I find you disagreeable, I’m sorry. Vampires have always frightened me. I treated you unfairly because of what happened to me, and it had nothing to do with you. That’s something I promise to change. Now get up off this dirty floor.”

“Very well, Miss Lockwood.” He flashed a handsome smile and then popped to his feet. Atticus wrapped his arm around me, and we took careful steps until we were safely out of the lane.

“This has been a wonderful day.” I wanted to gush over all the extravagances but also didn’t want to embarrass myself.

“I keep calling you Miss Lockwood, but it occurred to me that it isn’t your name.”

I slipped on my shoes and realized he was right. “When we moved here, I used Salem’s name to throw off any suspicion, but now it’s unnecessary and might confuse people in town.”

“What’s your given name?”

“One I’ll never use again. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.”

Atticus had changed into a long-sleeved black shirt for our game, one that conformed to his body and showed off his physique. I would have liked to see him in a short-sleeved shirt, but maybe that was too casual for him.

“What did you go by before you met Salem?”

“I used a stage name, but I don’t want to use that either. I guess I’m just Joy. Last names aren’t so important. Tak doesn’t have one.”

After snatching a strawberry, I strolled toward the stairs.

Bowling with Atticus was certainly an eye-opening experience. He wasn’t Mr. Perfect at all. He cussed whenever he knocked over less than four pins, and once when I got a strike, he cheered like a fan in a baseball stadium. Not only was Atticus charming, but he had a contagious laugh and a flirty smile. Most older immortals weren’t conversationalists and told dull stories, but Atticus wove together tales from his past that would make you forget everything else.

In contrast, his demeanor in the club was reserved. While he had always been friendly, this was a side to him I’d never seen.

And I liked it.

As we walked alongside each other, I clasped his hand in mine. It seemed like such an innocuous gesture, but the moment our fingers touched, electricity poured through my body and made my stomach twist with nervous energy.

Atticus swiftly stepped in front of me and backed me up against the wall. The strawberry in my hand tumbled onto the floor. He lifted my chin with the crook of his finger and delivered a scorching kiss—one that stole my breath and made me tingle all over.

When it tapered off, I wrapped my arms around his neck. “You make me feel like a woman.”

He encircled my waist with his arm and looked at me fiercely. “I would burn for you.”

“How can you say that with such conviction?” I searched his eyes.

Atticus touched his nose to mine. “I’ve seen cities rise and fall to ruin. I’ve traveled across oceans and encountered millions of people. In all that time, you’re the only woman who has ever made me feel alive.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

“You make me want to believe that a Vampire could have one.”

“You’re seducing me.”

“I want to do more than seduce you.” His fingers grazed my side. “If you don’t wish me to court you, I’ll never speak of my feelings again. Should you find a mate who will worship you and your child, I will host a banquet in celebration.”

I frowned at the offer. “You could switch off your feelings so easily?”

He canted his head. “Make no mistake, you’re my only desire. No one else. But I can’t decide what you do with your heart. I can’t make you love me. So tell me, Joy, how do you feel? Your heart quickens in my presence. The flush in your cheeks gives me hope. I want you, but if I have to choose between your happiness or mine, I choose you.”

My hands slid down to his chest. “You’re quite something, Atticus. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”

He stroked my cheek. “Give me permission to court you. Let me prove I’m more than the monster you see.”

My heart fluttered.

“I can see the hesitation in your eyes.” Atticus lowered his gaze to my lips. “Speak your mind. I’m not easily offended.”

“You asked me how I feel, so I’ll tell you the truth. Every time you touch me, I never want you to stop. You make me feel adored, and not in a way that I’ve ever felt before. But this baby… I’m still uncertain what to do. What if you’re expecting me to give it up and I don’t? Will you stick around for the right reasons? What kind of father would a Vampire make?”

He stepped back and looked at me in earnest. “I don’t know, Joy. I’ve never been a father. Life never gave me that privilege. The only assurance I can offer is that I accept your decision, whatever it may be. And should you keep the baby and choose me, I’ll be the most protective father you could hope for.”

“Yes, but can you love another man’s baby? I don’t even know who the father is .”

“The father is the person who raises the child. Any other connection is of no consequence.” His gaze faltered. “As for love, I suppose that happens with time, but I’ll always take care of them. I’ll be the father they need.”

“What if this is just an infatuation?”

Atticus caressed my cheek. “Let’s find out.”

I didn’t need a mate to solve my problems—if I chose to raise the baby, I had my pack. Where would Atticus fit in the picture? Did he actually want to live with us, or would he expect me to leave them and live in this empty house? Despite all my concerns, he had ahold of my heart, and it felt foolish to walk away.

I stepped into his arms. “I’ll let you court me on two conditions.”

His shoulders squared. “Name it.”

“Number one: Never charm me.”

“Even if you ask me to?” His eyebrow arched. “People sometimes want things erased, Joy. That’s my only point.”

“Never. Should I ever want to forget something, I’ll…”

“Trust another Vampire to meddle with your memories? Can you?” He cupped my neck in his hands. “I vow to never charm you under any circumstance unless it’s your explicit desire. Even then, I’ll give you a chance to change your mind.”

That seemed fair.

“And the second condition?”

I searched his eyes and wondered if he meant it—if he would do anything asked of him. “I want to go home.”