“He’s not a child, Giovanni. Neither am I.”
“He’s my child.”
“He’s your son; he is not your child.” Tenzin watched Ben. She watched the strong, even line of his shoulders and the softness of his grip as he held Sadia’s hand in his. She watched Ben’s eyes as he measured the world around them, weighing every danger that might threaten the precious and vulnerable girl he’d claimed as his sister.
Mating was complicated. She had taken Stephen as a mate for political reasons. That blood bond had been planned and accounted for. It was never intended to be something permanent.
Would Ben want something permanent?
What had permanent ever meant to her? When life stretched into eternity, did creating permanent bonds make sense? The thought of taking a mate again, having her body and mind so entangled with another…
She wanted to be with Ben. Ben wanted to be with her. Did it have to be more complicated than that?
What they were was enough. For now.
Giovanni spoke softly. “My son looks peaceful.”
“He still has terrible moments,” Tenzin said. “But know that I will end any human or vampire who threatens his peace.”
“He wouldn’t want you to.”
“That’s why he is who he is, and I am who I am.” Tenzin looked at Giovanni. “He is a good man. And a better immortal than either of us.”
Giovanni smiled. “My sire spent years trying to mold me into the perfect vampire, the most excellent and ideal specimen of immortal life. Philosopher, warrior, scholar, poet, artist.” He looked at Tenzin. “And five hundred years after he failed, a street child picked my pocket and became the man I could never be.”
“He made himself,” Tenzin said. “But you made that easier.”
“You’re right.” Giovanni looked at his son. “He is better than either of us.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Tenzin patted his shoulder. “You’re really an excellent librarian.”
Ben looked over his shoulder when Giovanni burst into laughter. His eyes met Tenzin’s and held.
Philosopher. Warrior. Scholar. Poet. Artist.
If Benjamin Vecchio’s canvas was the people he loved, then he was already a master.
This is why he is necessary.
He was still learning. She was still growing into her next life.
One day we will be infinite.
Epilogue
Three months later…
Ben froze midstride, his sword poised at Tenzin’s hip.
She watched him, her head cocked to the side as she took the measure of his stance. He was loose, his hips relaxed and his arm poised to strike. The corner of his mouth turned up. He knew he had the advantage.
They’d set the rules for no flying, and with Ben’s increased speed and reflexes, he was on the verge of besting her.
Again.
Unless…
Tenzin ran her tongue along her bottom lip and let her fangs grow.
Ben blinked, his eyes drawn to her mouth. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
She nicked the corner of her lip with her fang and let her blood well, and his eyes glazed over. “What?”
Growling, Ben slapped her ass with the flat of his sword before he leapt on her. “You fight dirty.”
“That isn’t a win!” she managed to yell before he tackled her to the ground.
His mouth locked on hers, and he sucked the drop of blood into his mouth. She wrestled him to his back, only to have him flip her over and spread her legs with one knee.
Were they wrestling or was this foreplay? She often had a hard time distinguishing between the two.
The low, happy growl that came from Ben’s throat told her that it was foreplay.
Excellent. Sex would be much better than losing to him in another duel. It had happened twice now, and she was worried it would become a habit.
He had the advantage in strike distance now, and it was highly annoying. She had to stop agreeing to fights on the ground. It was far easier to fight dirty in the air.
She wiggled away from him and ran up the stairs, eager to see if he ran or flew trying to catch her. More and more he defaulted to flying, which delighted Tenzin.
The wind loved him. It danced around him in flight, played with his hair, and lifted him with a manic kind of glee. The wind had always been her comfort, but for Ben, it would be his joy.
Mood swings still happened, and Ben still had dark nights. He’d seen his father driving a cab on Houston Street three nights before and sank into a sullen mood he’d only shaken when he woke that night. She was hoping that challenging him to a duel he was likely to win would brush the last of the shadows from his eyes.
Judging by the low chuckle behind her, the idea had worked.
She flew up to the loft and crouched in the corner, daring him to come in.
Ben set his toes on the edge and hovered. “Tell the truth—you did that because I was going to win.”
“You wish.”
He smiled, and the beauty of it made her forget to breathe. Seeing Ben happy had become her obsession.
He fell on the mattress he’d dragged up to her loft and tugged her hand. “Come here.”
Gladly.
She jumped on him, bracing herself over him as he stripped the clothing from her body. They rolled and tumbled in the bed, falling out once, only to have Ben float them back.
Their coupling was fast and full of laughter. Though Ben was still learning her body, he knew what brought her pleasure quickly and what would draw out sensual torment.
That night he wrapped her in his embrace and pinned her high on a wall, wringing a climax from her before he found his own release. It was fast and intense, and she took his blood as he came, drawing out his pleasure as long as she could.
They floated back into the loft and onto the new bed. Tenzin lay on him, aligning her body along his, skin to skin, as their amnis twisted and hummed.
She kissed along his jaw. “You’re better tonight.”
He played with a strand of her hair. “Sorry about the cranky mood.”
“It’s fine. You’ve put up with more than one of mine over the years.”
“True.” He didn’t say anything more, even though it sounded like he wanted to.
She poked his side. “Speak.”
“I’ve lived here for what? Five years? And in a city of eight million people, I’ve seen him three times. What are the chances of that?”
“It’s really not that big an island. It is bound to happen.” Tenzin wanted to say, Shall I kill him for you? But she didn’t. That would probably be considered a backslide when it came to personal evolution. Chloe would not approve.
“We can move,” she said. “We have options.”
“I like New York. And Cormac has finally stopped giving me dirty looks when I run into him.”
“Do you want me to find your father and strongly suggest he move back to San Juan?” With amnis. Not that she wanted to subject the lovely island of Puerto Rico to Ben’s father.
“I don’t think he’d do anything but make my grandmother’s life miserable.”
She laid her head on his chest. “Why does seeing him bother you so much?”
Ben didn’t say anything for a long time. He stroked his thumb along her hip and stared at the ceiling. “Did you have children when you were alive?”