Beneath a Waning Moon
Page 33

Josie loved the sea. She told Tom she always had, though the doctors had warned her away from ocean-bathing when she’d been human. Now she held nothing back.
Her amnis was another story.
While Murphy and Declan were busy in Dublin, Anne had traveled out with them, hoping to help her friend along with learning to control her elemental strength. But even the most rudimentary lessons seemed to fail.
“Try again,” Anne said, holding both of Josie’s hands. “Do you feel it?”
“I do.” Josie nodded. “It’s sitting on the back of my neck, moving over my shoulders, like water poured from a pitcher.”
“Excellent. Now I want you to push it. Try to spread it over your skin. As if you were smoothing a stocking or pushing a glove up your arm.”
Tom looked up from his newspaper, catching the small frown that grew between his wife’s eyes.
“Are you trying?” Anne asked.
“I don’t know,” Josie said with a huff. “I can feel it, but it’s not… It simply won’t do what I want. I don’t understand. Why is this so easy for all of you and not me?”
Anne sighed. It was their third lesson of the week, and so far, even the most rudimentary manipulation of amnis seemed beyond Josie. While a basic shield of amnis came instinctually for most vampires, it was not instinct to Josie.
“If you can’t do this, you’ll have no way of heating your skin,” Anne said.
Josie shrugged. “Poor circulation? I can’t see any humans for a long time anyway. Tom won’t care, will you, Tom?”
“Course not,” he grunted, trying not to be nosy. He didn’t want to interfere with the lessons, after all. Just didn’t want Anne to push his girl too far. She was still new at all this.
“And your skin will be too sensitive,” Anne added.
“Sounds like an excellent reason to eschew fancy clothing.” She winked at Tom, who only shook his head.
“Josie, you won’t be able to hide forever,” Anne said. “At some point, you’ll have to rejoin society.”
“Why?”
Tom blinked and looked up. “What do you mean, why?”
“Why will I need to rejoin society? Or at least public society.” Her eyes were wide and guileless. “Will you need me to entertain for you?”
He snorted. “Not likely, love.”
Anne said, “Tom’s not much for company.”
“Well, neither am I. I’d rather stay home and write. Perhaps read books or visit with family. Isn’t that what I’ll be doing for the foreseeable future anyway?”
Tom shrugged. “Sounds grand to my ears.”
Anne said, “But… you’ll be a hermit. You can’t be a hermit. At least not forever.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I…” Anne frowned. “You wouldn’t be lonely?”
“I don’t think so,” Josie said. “We’ll see. I never was much for company. And as long as I can go to the odd play or concert, walk in the park—”
“That’ll be at night,” Tom said. “No people around anyway.”
“—and work in my garden with a friend every now and then, I think that’s all I’ll need. I love company, but only friends. I always hated formal parties.”
Anne shook her head. “Good heavens, you two really are perfect for each other. Who would have guessed?”
“Me,” Josie said with a sweet smile. “I knew we’d get on the first night he called on me.”
Tom smiled and went back to his paper. Sweet butterfly girl…
“Oh?” Anne asked. “Why’s that?”
“It was obvious,” Josie said. “He brought me a book.”
Epilogue
Dublin, 2015
JOSIE DUG INTO THE EARTH, feeling the coarse scrape of grit beneath her fingernails as she moved the loose soil from beneath the honeysuckle vine. The gardenia would be too overpowering, she thought. Perhaps the rosemary would provide a soothing note to balance the honeysuckle’s sweet scent in the summer.
“Josie?” Tom called from the front of the garden.
“Come hither, my demon lover!”
His amused chuckle might have been her favorite sound in the world.
“Where do you want these roses?” he asked.
She turned and watched him as he placed one large pot down, then another. He’d stripped his shirt off and the misty night air clung to his muscled torso. His damp skin caught the light from the glass house he’d built her ten years ago.
He turned to her and caught her stare. “What?”
“You’re a fine specimen of a man… for a monster.”
“Am I?” He shook his head, his taciturn mouth never moving, though she caught the humor in his eyes. “Don’t try to seduce me, fairy temptress. You’ll never deter me from my mission.”
She stabbed her trowel in the dirt and sat back, elbows propping her up as she turned innocent eyes toward him. “Your mission?”
“Yes.” He swiped at the dew on his forehead, leaving a smear of dirt. “My lady has given me a task, and if I fail in it…” He sighed.
“She’d be disappointed?”
“Far worse than disappointed. Her fury would burn like the sun.”
“Your lady sounds harsh, sir!”
“She is.” He shook his head. “A right harridan. She beats me regularly.”