We hadn’t been then; we’d had such a long way left to go. To get here.
Yet it didn’t feel long. Before I could blink, decades had passed like a flash of Joules’s lightning.
Time was a thief—who kept on stealing.
Jack said, “Remember when you told me how badly you wanted to see a field of cane beneath a blue sky? That the rasp of their leaves made your heart swell.”
“It does even now.” I leaned against his strong frame, ivy embracing an oak. “You assured me I’d see it again. That we could do anything together.”
“We did. We built this place and raised a passel of kids.” He sighed in contentment as the southern breeze rustled the leaves. “Smell that honeysuckle, would you? Even now I could die a happy man.” He turned to face me. “Only got one worry, me.”
Oh, not now, Jack. Once or twice a year, he would bring up the subject of exiting the game.
And I would always remind him of upcoming events we couldn’t miss. Tee and his wife were going to have another baby this winter, and Karena was getting married in the spring. We had a harvest coming soon and the museum to expand. A temple in town was in the works for all the pilgrims who kept arriving.
But even if I could bear to part from my family, I worried about Matthew. And shouldn’t I be ever loyal to him? I believed he’d set into motion this magnificent life for me, then left me to go live it.
Guided me, coaxed me, then let me spin like a carousel.
A ballerina’s pirouette. A vortex in a stream.
What had he promised me? My wildest imaginings. When my family had last been all together, I’d looked over their faces, and I’d sent out a call.
Thank you, my treasured friend. If not for Matthew, none of those faces would exist. My love was boundless; so was my loyalty.
Now I gazed up at Jack. “We can talk again after the harvest.”
He eyed me. “Tête dure. You got stubborn mastered, doan you?”
“It’s why we work so well together.” I stood on my toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Come on, we can’t be late.”
54
The Hunter
Evie and I mounted my stallion, a horse so big you knew Thanatos was his great-grandsire.
She and I often rode together—to the amusement of the townsfolk—but we didn’t care. The beat of our drummer had always been different.
Whenever she gave me hell over something, I still teased her, “Evangeline, it ain’t ever goan to be easy with you, is it?” But it had been easy over our thirty-six years together.
So damned easy.
Like the people of my mother’s blood, I’d fallen in love forever. It’d always been Evie, always would be.
In the saddle, she wrapped her arms around my waist like she had all those years ago when we’d ridden that Ducati. God, I could still taste the thrills, the heat, of being young together. But this age had its own thrills.
When I rubbed her denim-clad thigh like I’d craved to do that long-ago day, she leaned into the touch, even as she said, “You better behave. Well, at least until we get back.”
I smiled up at the late afternoon sun. Lucky me. Life was sweet. “You want to take a shortcut, séductrice?”
She grinned against my back. “I’m waiting on you, Cajun.”
I got the stallion galloping at a good clip down the drive, then veered off toward the fields. “Hold on tighter, you!”
She locked her arms around me, and I pushed the horse to stretch its legs. Soon we were racing across the farm, whipping through cane and jumping small canals.
She gave a whoop of excitement, then threw back her head and laughed. “Faster!”
Our mount vaulted over a downed tree, and we leaned in together, so in sync. The aroma of cane clung to our clothes, the rich earth scent making me higher than whiskey ever had.
When we passed the Arcana museum, I gave it a proud salute. It was a monument not only to the heroes of the game and all their sacrifices, but to our family too. We’d put everything into building it.
Once we neared town, I slowed the horse so we could catch our breath and act halfway respectable. At a hitching post, I helped Evie down, and she flashed me an excited smile, eyes shimmering. She’d been gorgeous as a girl; as a woman she turned me inside out.
I had an envie for her that would never fade.
As we walked hand in hand, she gazed up at me with those big blue eyes—and all of a sudden I was back to walking with her outside that cave after we’d first made love. With her, I’d finally found my home, as if I’d known even then what these decades with her would bring.
She’d been so fucking beautiful that night I’d nearly tripped. Her scent had been honeysuckle, which had meant she’d been all but purring.
As before, so too now. I repeated my words from so long ago: “À moi, Evangeline.” Mine. Would she remember?
She tilted her head, and her lips curved. Of course she remembered. She answered as she had then: “Always.”
But she wouldn’t be always. I had to wear her down about the threat of immortality. I’d let her put me off, because I’d been greedy for this life with her that I’d never expected to have—and because I would never get another shot with her.
Not Arcana. That’s what Matthew had repeatedly said about me. There’d be no reincarnation for this civvy. Even so, now that all our kids were grown, I’d start working on Evie again.
She didn’t know this, but I’d sent out scouts to find Matthew and discover his endgame. There could only be one winner; but by God, it wouldn’t be my girl. . . .
On our way to the stage, a couple of my deputies informed me that more than four hundred people had shown up, quite a turnout for New Dawn times.
As Evie and I climbed the steps, the crowd chanted, “Hunter! Hunter! Hunter!”
I waved and smiled, and Evie looked proud, which meant my chest had gone and bowed out. But as much as I got a kick out of these awards, I was keen to get back home. The kids would start descending on us tomorrow, and I wanted more time just me and her.
I held her hand as we listened to a long-winded elder deliver a speech. He was the dogcatcher Evie’s mom had planned to set her up with after the Flash. Nice guy, but verbose.
I’d just taken the podium when I spotted someone pushing through the audience. A protester? My deputies went on the alert. Then four more men at different spots in the crowd tossed off their cloaks, raising automatic rifles. Pointed at Evie—
“Hail the Hierophant!” they yelled.
I dove for her, covering her just as bullets ripped through the night.
Bystanders screamed, running in terror. Guards encircled us, but Evie had already lashed out at the gunmen with her body vines, leaving behind carnage on the ground.
“Ugh, Jackson Deveaux!” she snapped, pale and shaken from using her powers. “How many times do I have to tell you never to shield me? Regenerate here, remember?”
“Didn’t want you to have to.” I knew how much pain it’d bring her.
Speaking of pain . . . I rolled off her, and we both glanced down.
Damn it.
The Empress
“Jack??” Five bullet holes riddled his torso, blood gushing.