Arcana Rising
Page 58

“You’re not disappointed I took precautions? You wanted a kid.” I was ready for a future with Aric—but not with a baby.
Bringing a child into a world without daylight seemed cruel. Would we describe the sun? Maybe we’d say: “Yes, it was millions of miles away, but you could still feel its warmth. I guess you had to be there.”
“Do I appear disappointed?” he asked in a wry tone. No, he appeared overjoyed with me.
“Such a turnaround from before?”
“I’ve realized how selfish that was. And things are . . . different now. If we never have a child, I will be happy. I want all the time I can get with you.”
What little time we had left.
He lowered his head to kiss across one collarbone, his lips hot on me. He scorched a line up my neck . . . across my cheek . . . the corner of my lips. Then fully on my mouth. Cradling the back of my head, he kissed me thoroughly.
When he broke away, he left me aching, my hips rolling for him.
He rose up on straightened arms, raking his gaze over my face, my body, my bright glyphs and restless hips. “I still think this is a reverie, one of my countless fantasies of you.” When he pressed inside, his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. In a strangled voice, he said, “How could this . . . be real?”
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Afterward, we lay on our sides facing each other. I murmured, “I know it couldn’t possibly be worth the wait for you, but was it—”
“By all the gods, it was worth the wait.” He cupped my face, had to clear his throat before he could say, “Do you understand how precious you are to me? Not because I can touch you—that merely allowed me to recognize you.”
I laid my hand over his heart. For two thousand years, it’d been one way. Now it was changed.
His brows drew together, as if he was trying to sort through chaotic thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then tried again: “That wild storm was a tiny fraction of what was going on inside me. I look at you . . . and I soar. I make love to you, and everything is new; I feel . . . so much. I’m certain my chest will explode from it. . . . Gods, I make no sense, do I?” Color tinged his broad cheekbones. “Tonight has boggled my mind. You have boggled my mind.” He held my gaze with his own. “Siev, I am a planet off its axis.”
I lost myself in his eyes. “I love you too, Aric.”
The corner of his lips curled.
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He dozed with me tucked against his side. I peeked up and sighed over his spellbinding face, wondering how I could ever have hurt this tender, caring man.
But now we’d rewritten history.
He stirred and opened his eyes, his amber gaze studying my expression. “Regrets?”
We’d had sex four more times over the night. “None.” Aric deserved whatever happiness I could give him. Did I think I deserved him? No. But I still wanted him for my own. “You?”
He shook his head. “I was dreaming in color.”
37
Day 452 A.F.
“You want to tell me what you were doing with the dish?” I asked as we readied for the trip back. Morning had arrived far too soon.
He finished lacing his black pants, then dragged on a long-sleeved shirt to wear under his armor. “I’ve been trying to repair it.”
“What does it do?” I picked clothes from my bag. Good thing I’d packed some. I currently wore only one of his T-shirts.
“It picks up radar and radio signals from all over the earth. And in space. Everything from distress beacons to ham radios.”
“How’d you find it?”
He sat beside me on the bed and pulled on his boots. “I had it built.”
“That must’ve cost a fortune.”
“We’re very rich. Not that it matters much anymore.” Now he was rich in food, water, and fuel. “In any case, I knew whatever catastrophe the game brought would likely take out widespread communication. . . .” He started talking about wavelengths and parabolas and other stuff I didn’t understand.
“In English?”
“It enabled me to listen, to track, and, if needed, to transmit.” He stood, stretching his tall frame.
“Why keep the dish away from the castle?” I pulled on panties under the T-shirt.
He watched avidly. “Enemies can use transmissions to triangulate positions.”
“Can you track Fortune’s next helicopter?” I tugged on my jeans.
He canted his head at my movements, absently saying, “I could have, but the dish will no longer work without certain parts.”
“What do you mean?”
“I checked it while you slept. The hail battered it almost beyond salvage.”
“You aren’t angry?”
He grasped my hand and pressed a kiss to my wrist. “For some reason, I’m in a fantastic mood. The best of my entire life.”
My cheeks heated.
Releasing me, he crossed to his things. “We’ll have to rely on this.” From his saddlebag he produced what looked like a cordless phone with a thick antenna.
“Is that a satellite phone?” Brand’s dad had had one for his yacht. Jack’s dad as well. Tighten . . . “Are satellites still in space anymore?”
“I believe they remain untouched.”
“But what about the Flash? The solar flare?”
“After last night’s storm, I wonder if the Flash came from outside the planet at all.”