Page 40 of Blood Gift

13

Vanessa

“I don’t understandthe dreams. Where do you think they came from?”

Gentry shook his head before I rested mine on his shoulder.

In the middle of insanity, being in bed with him with his arms around me provided peace. Solace. I could believe we’d be all right.

“I’m not sure,” he murmured. “It seems as though I came into your dream around the time I reached New York, or a little before.”

“And that was when I started sleeping again. Thank you for that, by the way. I missed sleeping through the night without blood-chilling flashbacks.”

“You dreamed that every night?” He craned his neck to look down at me, frowning with concern.

“Every single one since I got home. It sometimes felt like I never left. Part of me was always back there. You were the one who helped me feel safe, finally.”

“I would go insane if I had to go through that even once,” he murmured as he stroked my hair, then let his hand trail down my back, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “You’re even stronger than I gave you credit for.”

“I told you I’m the Big Dog in the pack.” I tried to smile and make light of the situation, but the joke died on my lips. It was safe for me to be vulnerable around him. I trusted him. “I didn’t feel strong. Not through all of this. I felt small and weak and scared. Or I did until a tall, dark stranger appeared and changed the dream’s script.”

“Even though I wasn’t the one who saved you.”

“Even so.”

He held me a little tighter. “For my part, at least I had the chance to feel powerful again. Even if it was only a dream.”

“Oh, Gentry.” I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to lose everything that ever made me who I was.

Only another witch or sorcerer could understand how much of one’s identity was wrapped up in his or her special powers and talents. These were what set us apart from the rest of the world. They made us who we were.

That I was supposed to be The Chosen One always capitalized in my head because it sounded that way when my coven sisters said it. I was special. Without my powers, I’d be no one.

“It’s not all bad,” he admitted, almost like he was answering the many questions I was too afraid to ask. “I mean it with all my heart when I say I’m ashamed of the sorcerer I was. I deserved to have my powers stripped. Truly. I see that now.”

“Do you miss them?”

He chuckled. “Only all day long. When I’m hungry, and there’s no one to cook for me. I sure as hell don’t know how to do it. Before you called, I was cold and realized I didn’t know how to use the fireplace. Having to walk everywhere instead of porting. A nightmare.” But he was laughing at himself—even so, there was truth to it.

He could try to hide his true feelings from me, but it didn’t work.

“You’ll get used to it.”

“I’m sure I will. It’ll take decades, but I will.” He looked at me again, sizing me up. “How old are you really?”

“What a question.”

“I was only wondering.” He touched my cheek, barely grazing my skin. “You’re so beautiful. And still so young. I’ll age faster than you will.”

I caught his fingers and pressed my lips to them. “Don’t. Just don’t. You’ll stay young for a long time—and if you do age faster than me, it doesn’t matter. What matters is this.” I pressed my palm against his chest.

“You say that now,” he chuckled.

“I mean it.” The fact that we were talking long-term wasn’t lost on me. It felt natural, the way Monday followed Sunday and November followed October. There wasn’t a question in my mind.

The sun was starting to rise, and the sky outside the window began to lighten.

I wanted to stop time, to make the night last forever. I would give up everything else in life if it meant staying in his arms for all eternity, right there in that room, in that very bed. It would be an even exchange.

---