The Visitor (Graveyard Queen, #4)(52)

“Yes,” I said on a breath.

Weaving his fingers through my hair, he tilted my face, teasing open my lips with his. My mind still churned with everything Papa had told me, making me slow to respond.

Sensing my reluctance, Devlin pulled back, his fingers still threaded in my hair as he searched my face. “It’s obvious I’ve come at a bad time. Maybe I should have called first.”

“No.” My hand flitted to his chest. “It’s not you. I’m glad you’re here. You’ve no idea.”

“But something is wrong,” he said. “I take it you spoke to your father about Rose.”

I sighed. “I don’t want to talk about any of that right now.”

“That bad?”

“It’s complicated and unsettling and I’m all talked out. Right now I just want you to kiss me again.”

He pulled me to him. “Not a problem.”

“I want you to...” My eyes closed briefly. “Make me feel normal.”

“Is normal how you usually feel when I kiss you?” he teased. “We’ll have to work on that.”

He wrapped his arms around me then, lifting me so that I hovered over him. I stared down into his eyes for the longest time and then, cupping his face in my hands, I kissed him, with a hunger that startled us both. I could feel the heat of his skin through his clothing and where his hands clutched me to him, my own flesh burned. I wanted him, right then, right there. Nothing else mattered. Not Papa. Not Rose. Certainly not any of the Krolls. The night belonged to us now.

Slowly, he slid me down his body until my feet touched earth once more. “Nothing normal about that kiss,” he murmured.

“Come with me.” I took his hand and pulled him beyond the angels into the deeper shadows of the cemetery where we wouldn’t be disturbed by ghosts or humans. The statues and vines concealed us from prying eyes and hallowed ground would keep the door to the dead world firmly closed.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” he said in that old-world drawl after I’d kissed him again with the same aggression.

“Nor was I,” I said on a shiver. “But it’s that kind of night.”

A bemused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “There’s something different about you.” He picked a leaf from my hair and let it drift to the grass. “Your smile, your eyes. The way you kissed me just now. You seem...”

“Not normal?”

“Normal is highly overrated. You seem more somehow.”

I knew what he meant. I was more. I had a new sensitivity to everything around me, including him. My nerve endings quivered with an awareness I’d never experienced before. My senses were unnaturally heightened. I was focused on Devlin, but also hyperaware of our surroundings. The whispering leaves, the scratch of tiny claws in the underbrush. I could still smell honeysuckle and roses, but the air was now punctuated with the decadent scent of Devlin’s cologne. I drew in the fragrance like an addict.

I turned in his arms, pressing back into him as I lifted my lips to his neck. He held me tightly, one arm over my breasts, the other hand sliding down my abdomen, into my jeans, tempting me in ways that had nothing to do with the evolution of my gift.

He nuzzled my ear and whispered my name, using that irresistible drawl to melt me. His fingers moved softly against me and yet I had never felt such a delicious tension. My head fell back against his shoulder as I stared up into the treetops through half-closed eyes.

Something was up there staring down at me. Gleaming eyes in a snowy face. A barn owl, probably the same one that had winged across the path in front of Devlin.

I told myself this was nothing out of the ordinary. I’d seen owls in the cemetery before. But this one... The way he perched there, so still and knowing...

It’s not an omen. It’s not a harbinger of dark things to come. Don’t look at it.

But I couldn’t tear my gaze away. “Something’s up there,” I said.

Devlin lifted his head. “What?”

“The owl that flew across the path in front of you. It’s watching us.”

He was silent for a moment as he searched the branches. “So it is.” I felt his lips in my hair. “Ignore it.”

Slipping free of his hold, I turned to face him, lifting both hands to undo the buttons of his shirt until the silver medallion lay gleaming against his chest. The moment I touched the cold metal, I felt a jolt. Like lava flowing through my veins, lightning in my fingertips.

It would have been so easy—too easy—to close my eyes and let Devlin’s thoughts and emotions pour into me. To crawl inside his head and search through his memories until I discovered what made him tick. I’d always held a fascination for his time at the Institute and a perverse curiosity about his relationship with Mariama. Even dead, she loomed larger than life.

But I wouldn’t invade his privacy. I wouldn’t use that facet of my gift with Devlin because I still wanted to believe that we could someday have a normal life together.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as I drew away from him.

“Papa could come back at any moment.”

“He’s gone up to the house.”

“He could return, though.”

Devlin sighed and brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You’re killing me here. You know that, don’t you?”