Choices (8 page)

Maura pulled the lase pistol out of his hand, eased herself to the floor beside John.

“Maura―” His quiet, pain-scraped voice twisted her heart. “How—”

“A relentless teacher.” She dropped the pistol. “Sweet heaven, you’re bleeding again.”

“You have to―go―damn―”

He sucked in his breath when she touched his knee.

“God―hold still.” Hands shaking, she pressed down, blood leaking through her fingers. Equally shaking fingers caught hers, tried to pull them off his wound. “John, please let me―”

“You are―not safe here.”

“He’s right.”

She snatched up the lase pistol and aimed it. Celeste stood behind her, surrounded by half a dozen men. They reminded her of Anthony, their faces alive with curiosity, with life.

“I told you there were others.” Celeste directed two of the men toward Darwin. They picked him up and carried him down the corridor, out of sight. Then Celeste knelt beside her, held out her hand. With a sigh, Maura gave her the pistol. “We’ll take care of him now. It is time for you to go home, sweetheart.”

“I’m not―”

“Circumstances are about to change, lines drawn for a battle that’s been building for twenty years.” Celeste brushed her cheek. “You saved the one man who can bring about that change, and I will never be able to thank you enough for his life. But you can’t stay here.”

“Maura.” She turned to John. “Celeste is right. You must go. I would―see you safe.” He closed his eyes, and she panicked.

“Don’t you dare―John―”

His good hand found hers, closed over fingers too shaky to return the grip.

“Please, Maura.” Swallowing with visible effort, he opened his eyes. “Please go home.”

Her mind understood. Her heart flinched as if she’d been slapped.

She leaned in, pressed her lips to the scar bracketing the left side of his mouth.

“You saved me, John. In every possible way.” She laid her forehead against his, breathed in the familiar scent of him―musk, rain, warm skin. “Don’t forget me.”

He stilled under her.

Heart lurching, she pulled away, wanting to take the words back, to keep what lay between them an untainted memory―

The grip on her hand tightened. Startled, she looked down at him. Tears filmed his vivid, haunted eyes.

“Anthony taught me friendship. You, Maura,” he inched his hand up her arm, drew her closer, his whisper barely crossing the space between them. “You taught me love. I will not forget.”

She framed his face with both hands, careful of his battered cheek, and kissed him. Soft at first, then with more need as she understood this would be the last time she touched him, tasted him, felt the warmth of his breath, heard the quiet, accented lilt of his voice. By the time she released him they were both trembling.

The men with Celeste stepped forward. They surrounded John, moving Maura aside with such precision she didn’t realize until she knelt outside the huddled circle.

“They will take the best care of him. I promise you, Maura.” She raised her head, met Celeste’s gaze. “You need to go, sweetheart. There is little time left.”

With her help Maura stood, her final glimpse of John framed between two of the men working over him. Unaware of her scrutiny, he lay still, his blood-smeared face white and suddenly thin.

“Could you―” She cleared her throat; it didn’t relieve the tremor in her voice. “Please say goodbye to him for me.”

Celeste took her hand, then leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“You have my word.”

Leaving her, Celeste strode over to John, directed the men as they lifted him, creating a human stretcher, and swept him out of sight—so fast it froze her breath in her throat. She was alone.

Hands twisting around each other, she turned to the glowing doorway. Invisible fingers caressed her as she stepped closer, but not close enough to be drawn into the light. Not yet.

There was nothing for her, not here—except the man who had broken through, who had taught her to live, to feel, to breathe again. In payment, she could only endanger him, as she’d done from the moment they met.

Take care, John. Be safe.

Ignoring the tears that blurred her view of the pulsating gold, she reached out for the doorway home.

* * *

M
ore nervous than she ever thought possible while still standing upright, Maura took in a shaky breath, and pushed open the door. He stood just a few feet away, facing the window, cane propped against the wall beside him.

“Hello, John.”

He spun―and moved so fast she didn’t have time to blink before he trapped her against the wall.

“I told you to go home.”

She met his furious gaze, his voice like a balm on her heart, and her nerves disappeared. “It’s good to see you, too.”

John let go and swung away from her. He moved well for someone who would always wear some type of brace on his leg. Relief made her dizzy. After what Celeste told her, she expected John to be―fragile. She couldn’t have been more wrong, or more happy to be wrong.

“Why.” He ran one hand through his hair, then stalked back across the room, using his height to intimidate as he loomed over her. “Damn it, Maura―why are you still here?”

“For you.”

Swallowing, he stared at the wall behind her.

“I wanted you safe, beyond the reach of what is about to explode.” His hands clenched into fists. “I can no longer protect you.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

He closed his eyes. “Maura—”

“I stood in front of that doorway, one step away from home—and I realized my home is here. Everyone I care about, everyone who fought for me, is here.” She sandwiched one fist in her hands. “You’re here, John.”

She held on, until he finally looked at her. “It was the hardest thing I have ever done. I almost convinced myself I would get over it.”

“Looks like you won’t have to.”

He reached up with his free hand, cradled her cheek. Maura closed her eyes, leaned into his touch, then let out a gasp when his lips brushed over hers. She met those vivid blue eyes, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.

“I wanted you to go, Maura. I wanted you to be safe.”

“John—”

“But I am selfish enough to be happy you stayed.”

She smiled at him, twined their fingers together. “Good thing—because you’re stuck with me.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

“I will find a way to bear it.”

Her smiled widened. “And I will be happy to help.”

“Then,” He leaned in, his breath warm on her lips. “I believe we should begin.”

As he pulled her into a kiss that left her breathless, Maura held on—to the man, to the happiness she never thought she’d find again, to the feeling of finally belonging.

She was home.

* * *  * * *

Other books by Cate Dean

Rest For The Wicked
– The Claire Wiche Chronicles Book 1

She's running from her past. And running out of time.

Claire Wiche is an ordinary woman, running her Wicca shop, The Wiche's Broom, in an ordinary California beach town. But Claire wasn’t always ordinary, and she isn’t quite human. She hides a secret, and a past she thought she had put behind her.

A past that is about to explode into her present.

When it does, and everyone she loves is in danger, Claire must face up to her past – and become what she left behind in order to save them.

A Gathering of Angels
– The Claire Wiche Chronicles Book 2

Claire Wiche sacrificed everything to keep her friends safe, revealing her true self. She expected the final battle to be the end for her. But she is back, breathing - and threatened by an enemy she doesn't have the means to fight.

An enemy bent on vengeance and possession, whatever the cost.

Trapped, alone, Claire has to find the strength to stand against what she knows she can't defeat. And the courage to face the people she thought she left behind.

*Includes a short preview of
Carry On Wayward Son
(formerly
Back in Black
), Book 3 of The Claire Wiche Chronicles.

Carry On Wayward Son
– The Claire Wiche Chronicles Book 3

Claire Wiche is home again—and putting together the pieces of her life. The life she thought she left behind forever.

Now that new life is tested by a familiar stranger, and a ghost haunting that becomes much more.

Claire and her friend Annie will have to face off with a volatile force, who traps them with his own needs. And Claire will face her true self, making a sacrifice that will change what she is, and what she will become.

Last Chance Jack
– A Fantasy Short Story

Jack is a guardian angel. A guardian angel who has failed every single assignment. For the past hundred years.

Now he has been given his final assignment, and he has one last chance. One chance to prove himself, one chance to change his fate.

But there is a catch: the assignment can't see him, unless he can find a way to break through, a way to touch her. Only then can he even begin to help her.

He has three days.

Want to find out when Cate’s next book is coming out? Get free stuff? Be part of her reader’s club? Join her list here!
http://catedeanwrites.com/join-my-list

About the Author

Cate Dean has been writing since she could hold a pen in her hand and put more than two words together on paper. She grew up losing herself in the wilds of fantasy worlds, and has had some of her own adventures while tromping through the UK, and a few other parts of the world. A lover of all things supernatural, she infuses that love into her stories, giving them a unique edge. When she’s not writing, she loves cooking, scaring herself silly in the local cemeteries, and reading pretty much anything she can get her hands on.

You can find her hanging out at her website:
http://catedeanwrites.com

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http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5694181.Cate_Dean

Check out all her books at Amazon Author Central:
http://amazon.com/author/catedean

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