Days of New: The Complete Collection (Serials 1-5) by Meg Collett Page B

just can’t. It’s not right.”
    “Because you want her?”
    Clark felt tortured when he looked back at Maya and saw her understanding eyes. His life seemed like one endless test, one endless trial of pain and endurance. He needed a break. Just to catch his breath for a moment. “Yes,” he said simply, feeling like the weakest man in the world.
    “But you have Camille.”
    “Camille has me.”
    Maya smiled at that, and the spell was broken. Clark sighed, raking his hand through his disheveled hair. The tension between them eased, and Maya unlocked her door, slipping inside.
    “Maybe you need to be ‘had’ until you’ve healed some,” she said.
    “That’s pretty twisted,” he said, laughing.
    Maya mimicked his shrug from earlier. “I didn’t say it was normal.”
    She’d made him feel better, even slightly. Before he left, he hugged her tight. When he stepped back, she was smiling, and he found that he was too. “Thanks,” he said.
    Grinning, she said, “Anytime.” Then she closed the door in his face, sliding the lock into place from the other side.
     
    * * *
     
    Camille was waiting inside the apartment when he got home, sitting with her arms crossed on his bed. She didn’t look up when he walked in, her eyes on the frayed rug. “What were you and Zarachiel talking about earlier?” she asked, directing her words to the floor.
    Clark sat down beside her and fell back onto the bed. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, wanting to fall asleep for a few years. “People are talking about us.”
    “They don’t like it.”
    “Apparently not.”
    Camille was quiet for so long that Clark cracked an eye and looked over at her. Her spine was ramrod straight with tension, the finer pieces of her hair dancing with electricity around her face. Her rage sent waves of heat roiling off her body. If an angel’s emotion was strong enough, it would affect the air around them. Camille was making the air so hot that Clark shifted away.
    She surged to her feet, pivoting around to face him. Only then did he notice her face was clean of kohl, her warrior facade temporarily set aside, even though she looked ready for war right that moment. The only chinks in her armor were her puffy, red eyes. “How can they say that? After all we—”
    “Cami,” Clark said softly, leaning up on his elbows to look at her. He rarely used the shortened name with her, and only he got away with calling her that. But the effect was immediate on her; her face crumpled, her eyes going wide. Her chin trembled and her fists fell loosely to her side. “It doesn’t matter,” Clark added. “Does being with me make you happy?”
    “When I don’t want to kill you,” Camille said, not having to even consider it.
    “I feel the same way. So if it makes us happy—or at least as happy as we can be—why does it matter?”
    “They could come after you.” The words were spoken quietly, softly, as if she was genuinely scared for him.
    “I fought with angels,” Clark said. “I’m not afraid of a few humans.”
    “I won’t let them. I’ll kill them all if I have to.”
    “You won’t. Everything will be okay,” he said quietly.
    She came to him then, moving up his legs and lying herself across his chest so that she straddled his legs with hers. When she was an inch from his lips, she drew back, frowning. “You kissed her tonight. I smell her on your breath.”
    “Are you saying I need a mint?”
    “You kissed her, Clark.”
    Camille started to get off him, but Clark held her hips in place. She was strong enough to pull away, but she let him hold her down. “I didn’t mean to.” Clark shook his head when Camille opened her mouth to argue. “I know it’s not an excuse. I know it doesn’t make it right, but I don’t understand anything anymore. Nothing feels like it should. In some weird way, her being here makes me feel like Sophia is still alive.”
    “But she’s gone, Clark. Maya isn’t Sophia. They don’t even look that much