past?”
She shook her head, but she was so tired and weak, it flopped back on her neck. She stared at the azure sky. “Yes.” From a distance she could nearly hear the hum of Nathan’s voice, low on Will’s cell phone.
She was revolving like a moon to its planet. She was lying to her mate of almost seventy years. And Nathan’s mark was on her.
* * * * *
Nathan rushed through a tunnel of vision, sped along like a streaking bullet to emerge in a dim space, where his woman lay sleeping. A curl had fallen into her eyes. Her fingers were flexed inward, the palm pink and vulnerable. At the hollow of her throat, her skin pulsed with each beat of her heart. And lower still, a lavender bra strap slipped from one bare shoulder.
He wanted to take that strap between his teeth, slide it down and taste her. But suddenly, her mouth formed his name, sounding as a quiet moan, and all thoughts flew from his mind. He gripped the arms of the airport seat.
His cell phone shrilled and he leaped. The image dissolved. “Will?” he said with surprise when he saw the caller. Will and Nathan rarely spoke by phone—they preferred one another’s company when Nathan visited Dante and Maria. Will Cochran was the fourth immortal in their quartet.
“Greetings, Nathan,” he said exuberantly in the manner of Dante. “I have something you’ll be interested to hear.”
Expecting this to be about art, Nathan waited. Will was forever trying to coax Nathan into society and onto the current art scene. When he didn’t respond, Will continued.
“I’m in Chicago at the art museum. I’ve found someone you’ve been looking for.”
His heart thundered. “Chicago?”
“Yes. By coincidence, I’ve run into Lillian. Fascinating the way fate works at times,” he said, voice oozing amusement.
“Tell me.”
Will began talking, his words gaining speed until they tripped over each other. He’d spotted Lillian in the modern art exhibit and they exchanged names and a few words about the art. She asked about Will’s artist friends, and then she reached into her handbag and delivered the rose into the light. Just brought it from her bag. But When Will told her it was Nathan’s work, she grew so upset that he had to seat her on a bench. And then the most extraordinary thing happened. He placed a hand on her spine—
“The immortal tattoo,” Nathan breathed. All at once, a Vision captured him, and he was tumbling into the feather mattress with his mouth on that inky vine.
When he came back to the conversation, he was frothing that Will had touched it and he had not.
Will continued. He had demanded to know her connection to Nathan, and she began to deny it. But Will put a stop to it. “Nathan. She has your mark on her. I saw it on her soul.”
Nathan’s heart pulsed heavily beneath his rib cage. Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. And then burst with joy. He grabbed the chair arms to steady himself. He’d known it. Of course he had. But to hear it from another immortal that Lillian bore his mark...
“I’ve gotta go,” he croaked into the phone. He wandered away from the seating area, stunned. Lovestruck. He stumbled against the wall, where he pressed his forehead to the cool glass and allowed himself to be drowned in Visions.
When the cell phone rang for a second time, it flashed to Nathan’s ear without pause.
“Nathan. She’s going. He’s taking her away,” said Will, panic in his voice.
“Where? Can you follow them? Can you shadow them?”
“I don’t know. He got pretty upset when I touched her. I know he’d recognize me if I followed.”
“You. . . touched her?” Nathan’s flat tone came from far away.
He could almost hear Will’s mental eye roll. “Of course, Nate. She fainted.”
“Fainted?” A searing knife twisted in his chest, and he bent in half, breathing heavily for a full minute. No immortal fainted. Fainting was a mortal frailty. Talk faster, Will, so I can call Dante, he thought.
“Will, please. I’m
She shook her head, but she was so tired and weak, it flopped back on her neck. She stared at the azure sky. “Yes.” From a distance she could nearly hear the hum of Nathan’s voice, low on Will’s cell phone.
She was revolving like a moon to its planet. She was lying to her mate of almost seventy years. And Nathan’s mark was on her.
* * * * *
Nathan rushed through a tunnel of vision, sped along like a streaking bullet to emerge in a dim space, where his woman lay sleeping. A curl had fallen into her eyes. Her fingers were flexed inward, the palm pink and vulnerable. At the hollow of her throat, her skin pulsed with each beat of her heart. And lower still, a lavender bra strap slipped from one bare shoulder.
He wanted to take that strap between his teeth, slide it down and taste her. But suddenly, her mouth formed his name, sounding as a quiet moan, and all thoughts flew from his mind. He gripped the arms of the airport seat.
His cell phone shrilled and he leaped. The image dissolved. “Will?” he said with surprise when he saw the caller. Will and Nathan rarely spoke by phone—they preferred one another’s company when Nathan visited Dante and Maria. Will Cochran was the fourth immortal in their quartet.
“Greetings, Nathan,” he said exuberantly in the manner of Dante. “I have something you’ll be interested to hear.”
Expecting this to be about art, Nathan waited. Will was forever trying to coax Nathan into society and onto the current art scene. When he didn’t respond, Will continued.
“I’m in Chicago at the art museum. I’ve found someone you’ve been looking for.”
His heart thundered. “Chicago?”
“Yes. By coincidence, I’ve run into Lillian. Fascinating the way fate works at times,” he said, voice oozing amusement.
“Tell me.”
Will began talking, his words gaining speed until they tripped over each other. He’d spotted Lillian in the modern art exhibit and they exchanged names and a few words about the art. She asked about Will’s artist friends, and then she reached into her handbag and delivered the rose into the light. Just brought it from her bag. But When Will told her it was Nathan’s work, she grew so upset that he had to seat her on a bench. And then the most extraordinary thing happened. He placed a hand on her spine—
“The immortal tattoo,” Nathan breathed. All at once, a Vision captured him, and he was tumbling into the feather mattress with his mouth on that inky vine.
When he came back to the conversation, he was frothing that Will had touched it and he had not.
Will continued. He had demanded to know her connection to Nathan, and she began to deny it. But Will put a stop to it. “Nathan. She has your mark on her. I saw it on her soul.”
Nathan’s heart pulsed heavily beneath his rib cage. Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. And then burst with joy. He grabbed the chair arms to steady himself. He’d known it. Of course he had. But to hear it from another immortal that Lillian bore his mark...
“I’ve gotta go,” he croaked into the phone. He wandered away from the seating area, stunned. Lovestruck. He stumbled against the wall, where he pressed his forehead to the cool glass and allowed himself to be drowned in Visions.
When the cell phone rang for a second time, it flashed to Nathan’s ear without pause.
“Nathan. She’s going. He’s taking her away,” said Will, panic in his voice.
“Where? Can you follow them? Can you shadow them?”
“I don’t know. He got pretty upset when I touched her. I know he’d recognize me if I followed.”
“You. . . touched her?” Nathan’s flat tone came from far away.
He could almost hear Will’s mental eye roll. “Of course, Nate. She fainted.”
“Fainted?” A searing knife twisted in his chest, and he bent in half, breathing heavily for a full minute. No immortal fainted. Fainting was a mortal frailty. Talk faster, Will, so I can call Dante, he thought.
“Will, please. I’m
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