The Wicked (Elder Races #5.5)(31)

He told her softly, “You know we need to talk, don’t you?”

Her mouth shook. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just nodded again. Why would he bring that up now, of all times?

He stroked her hair. “In fact,” he said, “I’ve been planning on talking to you for a while. I was just waiting for the right time. And this is not the right time at all, so naturally I want to take full advantage of that.”

She blinked several times. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

He smiled. There was something remarkably patient, clear-eyed and ruthless about him in that moment. “I love you,” he said. “And I believe you love me.”

She whispered, “Yes.”

Gently, gently he bent down and brushed her lips with his. “Then this is what we’re going to do. You’re going to marry me. We’ll winter in Jamaica and live the rest of the year in Louisville. You will work part-time at your job. I will work part-time running my company, and Bailey will take over the rest. We’ll have children—I think two would be nice—and we’ll have plenty of time to take care of them. And we’ll travel sometimes, but mostly we’ll stay at home, and if I go blind, I will find an avian Wyr who will fly with me sometimes—”

“That’s not going to happen,” she interrupted.

“I understand, but if it does…”

“It won’t.”

He cocked his head and looked exasperated. “I am trying to make a point here.”

In spite of everything that had happened and the dizziness that still swam in her mind, she had to smile. “And what point is that?”

“That we can meet every challenge ahead of us if we do it together.”

Her smile turned into a chuckle, while happiness began to take root. “Is that what you were saying underneath all of those orders?”

“They were statements of fact, not orders,” he said. He touched her cheek lightly with the backs of his fingers. “And we’re not really having that talk, not while you’re injured and exhausted. That would be insensitive of me. Besides, it’s too soon. I’m merely making things easy for you by laying everything out ahead of time.”

Her chuckle turned into a helpless ghost of a laugh. “All of that was preparation for the talk we’re going to have someday?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, that’s good to know, because it is too soon for all of it,” she whispered. “I can look forward to the fact that when we do have that talk at the appropriate time, you will actually propose with a question and a ring, and not a statement of fact.”

His expression went blank. “A ring.”

It occurred to Olivia that she had recently grown to care about more than one creature that wasn’t housebroken. That was when her meager strength petered out. She closed her eyes. “Goodnight, Sebastian.”

“Sleep well, my love.”

He kissed her forehead, and that was the last thing she remembered for a long time.

Of course, things were not as simple and as straightforward as the talk they planned on having one day. She slept, woke and drank some warm broth, and slept some more. Sebastian was always present when she opened her eyes. Derrick checked on her a few times through the day, and by the next evening he had removed the IV.

She had to work through the memory of the attack, and the shock of witnessing Dendera’s murder. Sebastian was there for that too. He held her as she wiped her eyes and talked through the worst of it.

Olivia could not make the underwater crossing until she had recovered from the chest injury and could complete a few basic exercises, like walk a mile in under twelve minutes. She was healthy, though, not only in body but in spirit, and she rebounded quickly.

Soon she could sit in the main hall in the evenings and visit with Derrick, Tony and Bailey. Then she could take short walks. She shooed Sebastian back to work, while she sat in the sun and read the light novels they brought to her.

In the meantime, the other four worked hard. They transported the part of the collection that Olivia, Dendera and Steve had already packed. Time passed more quickly on Earth, so every time they made the crossing there was more news.

Steve had been taken into official custody. Through emails, phone calls and bank account records, investigators discovered that, after Carling had completed background checks and hired everybody, a private collector from South America had approached him with a two-million-dollar bribe and a wish list of items. Shortly after that, the collector was taken into custody and extradited to the Elder tribunal in the States for prosecution.

With the approval of the tribunal, Carling hired a new team of symbologists to finish packing the library. “You are also certainly welcome to stay and finish working on the job if you so choose,” Carling wrote in a letter to Olivia, which Bailey delivered one afternoon. “But even if you do, you will need help, and besides, I want for you to have the freedom to come home if you should wish.”

Olivia was tempted briefly, mostly because she refused to let another person’s actions drive her away from what she loved to do. But, the truth be told, she had grown a little weary of the adventure.

What finalized her decision, however, was when Bailey handed Sebastian a sealed packet in silence. He tore the packet open and looked through the contents quickly. Afterward, he set the papers on the kitchen table and walked out of the house, into the overgrown vegetable garden.