Page 160 of Immortal Bastard

She finally met his stare and the truth was there in her eyes. Another tear fell and he dashed it away. Leaning closer, he brushed his lips over hers.

Her breath hitched and she drew back. “Don’t,” she whispered, the quiet plea at odds with her obvious curiosity.

He debated letting her go, but she didn’t move. There was no struggle or opposition in her stance, only longing. His hands slid around her waist and he stepped closer, pressing his front to hers.

“Enough lying, Gracie.” He tipped his head, his mouth slowly descending to hers. A small whimper escaped her throat as he touched down, softly tracing his tongue over the seam of her lips, silently begging for entry.

His tongue teased over hers and his body rejoiced. His hands glided to her neck, until he was cupping her face.

She pressed her palm to his chest. “No.”

“Yes.” He leaned in again and hissed, jerking back. Razor sharp pain ripped through his arm. He examined his sleeve as crimson bled through the fabric. She’d cut him. She fucking cut him. “What the hell, Grace?”

Trembling, she stared up at him, her brow hard and her jaw locked. Her claws had lengthened and his skin burned where she’d sliced him. “Get out of here,” she hissed.

He gaped at her. “You ruined my shirt.”

“Go!”

He winced. “Gracie—”

“Do you hear me?” The venom in her voice cut deeper than her claws. “I want you to leave.”

“Why are you being like this?”

“I said go!”

A wave of energy slammed into him, shoving him into the wall. He bolted forward and glared at her. “You’re out of line—”

“You are out of line. How dare you touch me with such familiarity? I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours. God knows where your mouth has been!”

Furious, he seethed and blasted her with every image he could muster of his mouth on Magdalene. “I’m tired of you holding this against me. Yes, I kiss her. I kiss her everywhere, Grace. Do you know why? Because she’s not frigid and she doesn’t play games! She likes my hands on her! She likes touching me. And I like being inside of her!”

“Get out!” she screamed, shoving him with the force of twenty men.

He staggered back, stunned this was what had become of their friendship but tired of trying to fix what was so obviously irreparable. Meeting her glare, he sneered, “Enjoy your long, cold wait for a call that might never come.”

“Leave!” she shouted, shattering the glass in the windows on the back wall.

* * *

Adriel joined them for the ride home from service. Delilah enjoyed Christian’s mother, though Christian was quieter than usual when she was around.

As he steered the horse, she and Adriel spoke about various things having to do mostly with food and Delilah’s ‘odd’ diet. Adriel was helping her think of recipes that didn’t require meat.

“I suppose you could have biscuits, but any gravy would lack flavor without the sausage. Do you eat pork?”

“No. No pig.”

“Delilah doesn’t eat anything with a face, Mother,” Christian commented, his attention focused on the road as he gripped the reins.

The countryside was untouched by modern civilization. In the distance she could see smog clouds and hear motor vehicles rushing down the highways, but they were far removed from such things. The trip to service today had shown her the outskirts of the farm and gave her a better understanding of just how large the land was.

He pulled the carriage onto a paved road and she lifted her face, enjoying the breeze as they picked up speed. An engine purred in the distance, the hum getting louder as they crossed a covered bridge. She spotted the car in the distance, speeding toward them on the narrow road.

The engine got louder and then she saw it, ripping around the bend. The carriage jostled and Delilah almost slid off the bench.

Adriel caught her sleeve and steadied her as the car sped by.

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