Page 86 of Prodigal Son

“Because modern technology comes with complications and it’s a distraction we do not need.”

“Yeah, it’s a real waste of time. Nothing like chipping away at a stump with a primitive ax.”

“If it’s too much work for you—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ve got it. Just trying to make a point.”

Cain rubbed his back, a strange twinge of pain shooting up his spine. He waited a second for his body to correct whatever issue he was having.

“You okay?” Vito asked, noticing that he’d stopped working.

“Fine.” Cain massaged away the discomfort in his back. Perhaps he fed from an ill animal this morning and his body was fighting off some sort of parasite. It was rare, but it happened on occasion.

The pain eventually subsided and they finished grinding out the stump by late afternoon. The weather had been gorgeous, no doubt Cain’s cheery mood had helped in that department.

He hoped the situation with Vito’s car would cause Destiny to stay another night. Sooner or later, she’d have to get back to her life so he wanted to make the most of their time.

They walked back to the house at a leisurely pace. Vito appeared rather enthralled by the size of the farm and asked questions about their operation. Farming was all Cain knew, so much of his knowledge seemed like common sense. It was odd to think of a man making a living in other ways.

“Destiny said your family owns a farm.”

“In Portugal, yeah, but it’s nothing like this. We’ve got vineyards and goats.”

“So you must understand some of the upkeep.”

Vito chuckled. “We also understand the value of power tools and a good tractor.”

Cain respected how attached the English could be to their modern technologies, but Destiny didn’t seem as bothered by their primitive ways as Vito. He liked that she hid a curiously ambitious side to her and was willing to learn new things.

That morning, he enjoyed seeing her in a traditional dress, enjoyed knowing exactly what she hid underneath as she set out for the day to deliver care packages and tend to the calves. Even if it was a temporary fantasy, he enjoyed the glimpse of what their life could be.

Startled by his thoughts, he stilled. Where had that come from? They didn’t have a life together, or any prospects beyond the end of the week, so he needed to reel in his imagination and ground himself back in reality.

She was a modern woman with modern comforts. Her kind didn’t do the rustic thing. And his kind didn’t do the mortal modern thing.

“You cool?”

Realizing he’d stopped walking, Cain took a step and grunted. Doubling over in distress.

“Cain?”

Perspiration beaded on his brow as shooting pain punched into his back. For a moment, he feared he might hurl. Something was definitely wrong, because immortals rarely sweat and almost never got sick.

The pain disappeared as fast as it arrived. Rising to his full height, he continued walking. “Hot today.” He blew out a breath, his back throbbing with the echoes of a steady ache.

Vito shrugged. “It’s a little chilly if you ask me.”

Cain paused and grunted uncomfortably, another sharp pain knifing through him. “Did that breakfast sit well with you?”

Leave it to Gracie to try to poison him for the day. He groaned and slightly stumbled, his stomach cramping tightly.

“Whoa, you okay, man? You want some of this water? Maybe you overdid it.” Vito held out the canteen, but Cain ignored him.

His vision blurred, and his heart raced. Was he having another heart attack? This felt different. Lower. His back ached and his—“Zum mordsackerment!” He doubled over, bracing his hands on his knees and laboring for breath.

“Shit. What’s wrong with you?”

Cain shook his head and licked his dry lips as incredible pressure pushed on his spine and abdomen. He would make Gracie pay if she did this to him. “I just need a moment.”

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