Page 23 of A Waltz with Lord Death
She shifted against him to look him in the eye. Confusion pulled her eyebrows together. “Why are you doing this for me? I’m a nobody. A low-born fortune-teller.” What she didn’t say was that her confusion stemmed from her refusing his offer to become Life, but he was still sticking around.
He lifted a shoulder and played with the hem of her cloak. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
With narrowed eyes, he asked, “What are you getting at?”
“Do you have feelings for me?”
Her question caused his heart to stumble like it trudged through icy slush before it beat quickly within his chest as fire flooded his veins. Gazing at her became too much for his nerves to bear, so he turned his attention to the crackling fire several feet away.
Professing his feelings aloud was sure to bring his killing curse back to haunt him. He would be devastated to lose Meira the same way he’d lost the other women he’d come to care for. But…
Two weeks.
It was all he had left of her before her death. He might not get another chance to love again, especially someone who was immune to his deadly touch.
A lump of nervousness formed in his throat, which he promptly swallowed. “And if I do?” he answered carefully.
Although she said nothing, her grip tightened on his tunic, and she shifted to become more comfortable against him. Her lilac scent tickled his senses, filling his heart with longing.
Two weeks.
Was it enough?
He winced when bucketfuls of dead pine needles rained down on top of them. Surprisingly, she burst into laughter, and he couldn’t help but grin at the sweet, melodic sound. “Sorry,” he apologized with a grimace as he picked a few of the pine needles out of her hair. “My power is a lot stronger than it used to be.”
“How so?” she mumbled into his chest.
“Things die faster when I touch them. I only had to concentrate my power to use it, and now I have little control over it.” He paused for a moment, his heart pounding within him when he slid his fingers into hers. She didn’t pull away. “What has your life been like?” he asked softly. “You don’t talk about yourself much.”
Silence stretched between them, and for a moment he thought she’d either fallen asleep or refused to answer. But finally she spoke. “My neglectful father left us when I was seven. My mother and I found a place with traveling entertainers. She taught me the art of fortune-telling. She died when I was fifteen. I’ve been on my own ever since. There’s not much else to tell.”
She turned enough to lift her hand to touch the side of his face. He closed his eyes, relishing her soft palm on his jaw. He could not remember the last time he’d been touched like this, with sweet intent.
“And what about you?” she whispered. “How are you faring after what happened to Barret?”
Hearing his name caused an ache to stir within him. “I miss him, Meira. We are bound by rules, and if a mortal challenges one of us… I don’t understand why he challenged Barret to a duel. People usually challenge me. Barret’s power cannot hurt, only heal. He stood no chance against an immortal blade.”
Sadness passed across her eyes, and she began to absently trace his jaw with the tip of her finger. His breath shuddered, gratitude spurting from him like water from a fountain.
“Tell me what your friendship was like.”
“We spent a lot of time together. We had to when we were each one side of the same coin. He was my closest friend. Always cracking jokes at my expense. Saving me from making stupid decisions. He was very wise. He always knew what to do, no matter the situation.”
“I wish I could have met him.”
“Me too, Meira. Me too.”
Only a short time passed before she relaxed in his arms, her breathing becoming deeper with sleep. He held her close, cherishing every moment he got to spend with her. He only had two weeks, and he was going to do his best to make them count.
Chapter 10
Death’s deep rumbling voice woke Meira from her sleep. Slowly at first, but then her eyes flew open when she realized his voice wasn’t the only one in the clearing. She held still, wondering if who he spoke to was someone like him, like Betha.
“You would be wise to turn back the way you came,” Death said in a calm but deadly tone.
“Not a chance,” a male voice growled. “Give us the girl. The king will pay handsomely for her safe return.”
