Blood Trinity (Belador #1)(119)

She thought back on her exact words, the ones she’d chosen based on what Vyan had told her. “I asked the rock to send all the Kujoo tribe wherever their hearts desired. I thought you would go home with the others.”

Had she condemned him to this world by not being more specific?

He chuckled and touched her hands, folding them inside his. His scent met her next breath. “I knew you were a wise woman, and my heart is wiser than my head some days. I did not know where I wanted to go, but I did not want to return with Batuk to war, nor did I like leaving you alone either. It seems my heart chose to stay here.”

“You’re happy about this?”

“I believe I will find happiness here I have not felt for many years.”

She wouldn’t have been able to see through her tears even if she had unimpaired vision. “You are a gift I never expected to receive.” Getting used to being blind was not going to be easy, but now she didn’t fear the darkness with Vyan staying in this world. She couldn’t believe he was really here.

He took her hand in his. “I asked for a gift as well but was denied.”

A deep voice boomed into the room. “No, my faithful Vyan, you were not denied. I merely waited to see if you were truly content to remain in this time and still wished to give up your immortality before I granted your request.”

Vyan was silent for a moment. “If I return to my home with the other Kujoo, I will be expected to pick up a sword again. My family would still be dead. What would be the reason to continue life there? None that I can think of. But I have managed for two years and know I can survive here. More than that, I can start anew here.”

Laurette wiped at her wet eyes. “You really don’t want to go home?”

“My heart would miss you.” He lifted his voice. “I am ready to trade, Shiva.”

“To trade what—” Her words were cut off in a gasp when bright light flashed through the room. She covered her eyes with her hands. Warm fingers clasped hers and pulled them away from her eyes.

Crisp details of everything in her studio flooded her vision. Vyan’s happy face was completely in focus. “What happened? My eyes … I can see. Oh, Vyan, I can see!”

His warm eyes—warm brown human eyes—crinkled with happiness. He cupped her face with his hand. “When I could not escape Tristan and Batuk to come back to you and make sure you would be safe, I told my god Shiva I wished to offer my immortality in trade for your eyesight. I did not want to leave you alone and blind. I expected to die at the battle with the Beladors, but I still survived. I do not wish to live another eight hundred years—only as long as you live.”

Tears streamed down her face. “I’m a Belador descendant. You’re sure you want to stay here with your enemy?”

“You will never be my enemy.” He leaned in and kissed her softly, a tentative touch that gave her the confidence to kiss him back.

She could feel her granddad’s blessing flood over her.





THIRTY-NINE




Evalle hadn’t worn dress clothes for anyone, but tonight was important. She had to look her best. Wanted to look her best. The simple brown pants and jacket probably looked better on the chipped-up mannequin in the used-clothing store, but she couldn’t have come in here wearing her battle gear.

Cool air swam around her face and arms, a welcome change from the heat bombarding Atlanta outside.

Murmurs drifted to her ears, nothing specific. Chatting littered the serene air in the church below the balcony where she hid. The small group gathered in the main vestibule waited with reverence. She’d never been one to pray, but she sometimes wondered if those who did were heard.

She cut her eyes sideways at the dashing elderly man on her left. Was she good or what? Just look at that rockin’ cleanup job she’d done.

Grady wore a gently used black suit she’d gotten from the same secondhand store. He sat as straight as a general waiting to meet the president, but he was holding himself erect in anticipation of a wedding march.

She’d brought his clothes and a shaving kit she’d pieced together to the upstairs bathroom that served the balcony of this church on busy Sundays. Not much traffic up here at a small Wednesday night wedding.

Watching the clock down to the minute, she’d laid out everything for Grady in the bathroom, shaken his hand, then shut the door.

He turned his clean-shaven face toward her. The smile he bestowed on her was worth the sanction she’d face for this if she got caught shaking hands with a Nightstalker for personal reasons, but she was feeling pretty good about her position among the Beladors.

Why not make someone else’s dream come true?

Grady leaned toward her. “You must always believe, no matter what. Tzader and Quinn won’t let anything happen to you. Neither will that Injun.”

She smiled at Grady’s newest slight. Storm was not an “Injun,” but Grady wanted to get a rise out of her to keep her mind off the Tribunal. She smiled at him. “I’m not worried.”

Much.

His granddaughter’s wedding would start any minute now. The minute they were done she’d make the eight-mile ride back to downtown with him clinging to her bike. He’d gotten lost after being freed from the Kujoo this morning and spent hours finding his block around Grady Hospital.

All the shaving and changing to clean clothes would go away as soon as he glimmered back into his ghoul form.