Silence reigned between them as they stood with others who were also waiting for the bus, but it wasn’t the emotional silence he’d come to abhor. It was the silence of caution.
He felt the surreptitious gazes of those around them. If he consciously chose it, he could feel their emotions as well.
They didn’t interest him. Not beyond assuring himself they posed no threat.
He relaxed to enjoy the caress of a breeze. Araña’s scent mingled with that of flowers and trees, the earth itself, all of it becoming the sweet smell of physical freedom.
Tir hooded his eyes and lifted his face toward the heavens. The endless blue called to him, as if he could soar in its heights and become a part of it, forever above the earth and those who inhabited it.
Sunlight struck him, and he basked in the feel of it against his skin. He wouldn’t be shackled again. He’d see all of mankind destroyed before he allowed himself to be at the mercy of humans again.
The sound of a heavy diesel engine cut across his thoughts. Around him, those who waited for the bus shuffled their belongings and prepared to board.
He turned his attention to the street and watched the bus round a corner before slowing to a stop nearby. Fear spiked through Araña, along with quickly suppressed grief, her emotions echoing through him as if they were his own.
Tir reached for her, took her hand where moments before he’d denied himself the contact. Her fingers tightened on his, the sole, silent acknowledgment she gave that boarding the bus was difficult. And then she pulled away in order to pay their fare.
He followed her, allowing her to choose their seats. When he sat next to her, he cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I won’t allow you to be harmed,” he said, keeping his voice low but making sure she heard the depth of his pledge, the promise that settled into every fiber of his being.
Emotions bombarded him. So much pain and guilt it was nearly overwhelming.
“Stop,” he said. “You can’t undo the past.”
“I know.”
She escaped his grip and the snare of his eyes, and looked down, drawing his attention to the well-worn wallet in her hands. Her fingers traced the seam, the edges, trembled slightly as she opened it and removed the folded bills it contained.
“You should have money in case we get separated,” she said, counting out half of it, touching the denomination marks as she spoke the numbers out loud in case he was unfamiliar with the currency.
He wanted to deny they’d ever be separated, but he knew it would be a lie. She pressed the bills into his hand and he took them. Then she slid the wallet back into her pocket and turned away from him to look out the window.
A fist tightened around his heart. He edged closer, conscious of being watched, chafing at not being able to divert her thoughts and ease her with the joining of their bodies. His fingers tangled in her hair. But rather than force her to face him again, he combed through the silky locks, stroking the back of her neck.
His mouth whispered kisses against her cheek each time she flinched when a camouflage-painted vehicle passed. “Tell me about Matthew and Erik.”
She stiffened at the sound of their names, but Tir didn’t allow her to retreat. “Tell me,” he repeated, touching his lips to her earlobe, gently sucking it.
Her breath hitched, desire and pain mingling.
His free hand settled on her stomach, and he wished they were alone so he could slide his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants and cup her bare mound. He didn’t want her to feel anything but happiness and pleasure.
Before he was forced to ask her for a third time, she said, “They took me in when most wouldn’t have. They taught me what I needed to know in order to one day survive on my own. They made me believe in myself, in my worth despite… the things that set me apart. I loved them. I would have died in their place if I could have, even if it meant eternal damnation.”
Tir’s fingers tightened in her hair unintentionally. Jealousy scorched through him, along with violent denial at the idea of her giving up her life.
He forced himself to loosen his grip on her hair, to slow the agitated race of his heart. The heat of his reaction dissolved with the lash of her sadness across his soul.
Tir’s lips went to the corner of hers. “They wouldn’t have wanted you to surrender your life for theirs.”
“I know,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Matthew told me to live for all of us. It was the last thing he said to me before he was killed.”
Tir pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips before easing away from her and watching as the city of Oakland was slowly revealed.
Hardscrabble poverty gave way to lesser poverty, and then to wealth. Estates gave way to the downtown area, where buildings rose in defiance of the past and citizens walked the streets.
Araña finally turned from the windows. “We should get off at the next stop.”
There were cursory glances in their direction as they left the bus. Speculative appraisal, but Tir could sense no threat.
“Which way?” he asked, smelling the ocean mixed with diesel fumes and roasting meat.
She indicated an alleyway. “There will be fewer people if we take whatever shortcuts we can and get to the road that runs along the waterfront.”
He nodded and followed where she led, content to turn his attention to keeping them both safe. When they reached the bay, Araña stopped well before where piers extended out into the water and docks hosted container ships being loaded and unloaded.
“I can see the Constellation from here,” she said, pointing to it. “She’s in the second slip from the end. This side.”
“Stay here. I’ll see what I can learn.”
Her fingers lightly shackled his wrist, and the restraint sent heat surging to his cock. “Be careful.”
Amusement filled him, flowing into his chest along with a warmth he didn’t want to look at too closely. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Humans have far more to fear from me than I have to fear from them.”
Worry remained in her dark eyes, tugging at him, threatening to delay him. He made himself turn and walk away from her.
Tir approached the dock. He was careful to keep his head ducked and his face turned away from the camera mounted on the lamppost near its entrance, though he had no idea whether it was possible for his image to be captured on film or not.
The long-sleeved shirt chafed his skin after centuries of wearing minimal clothing. Its collar felt as tight and constricting as the sigil-inscribed one it hid.
He was confident he could recover Araña’s boat. But as he moved farther and farther from her, he hated knowing he’d left her unguarded.
The city wasn’t her home. Already it had proven unsafe for her.
He thought of the bloodstains on the ground she’d searched earlier, the strength it had taken for her to return to the place where her family had been killed. For centuries he’d despised humans, looked at them and seen only the worst of their natures, but she was different.
She hardened his body and softened his heart. She made him feel, and the emotions were uncomfortable, contradictory. Unwelcome. And yet when he was with her, he hated having any barrier between them.
It was only when he stepped foot on the wooden dock that she left his mind completely. He could feel dozens of open stares, and more that were hidden. A thick-necked man emerged from a small concrete building, pig eyes darting suspiciously.
“What’s your business here?” he said, the salt-sweat smell of him arriving along with his question.
“I’m interested in buying a boat,” Tir lied. “Are there any for sale?”
“Might be,” the man said, eyes traveling over Tir’s clothing in an effort to assess his wealth.
Tir did something he hadn’t done in centuries. He consciously opened himself to the man’s emotions.