Wickedly Wonderful (Baba Yaga, #2)(105)
“Ah,” Beka said. “None of that namby-pamby communication crap for you stalwart fishermen types, is that it?”
“Something like that, yeah,” Marcus said. He stared at her across the foot or more of wooden floorboards that separated them, but made no move to get any closer. Of course, a lot more separated them than physical space, and they both knew it.
“So what are you doing here?” she asked, suddenly too tired to play their usual games. If he’d come to say good-bye, she wanted to get it over with as fast as possible—like pulling a Band-Aid off of a cut. Only multiplied by a power of a hundred.
Figuring there wasn’t much point to pretending to be normal anymore, she snapped her fingers and a glass of wine manifested out of the air. She took a long swallow.
“Neat trick,” Marcus said, not even fazed. “And I came to say thank you.”
Beka blinked and took another drink. “Thank you for what?” she asked. “I’m the one who should be thanking you. I never could have done all this without your help. You know, even without the part where you saved my life and beat the crap out of the evil prince.” She mustered up a grin. “That was my favorite bit, by the way.”
“Mine too,” Marcus said with sincerity. “It was my freaking pleasure.” He scowled at her glass. “That isn’t champagne, is it?”
Beka shuddered. “Goddess, no. I may never drink the stuff again. Although it was really sweet of your father to bring some out today to celebrate my success. I can’t believe he did that.”
“Me either,” Marcus said. “That’s part of what I came to thank you for. He’s really changed since you’ve been around, and no matter what happens, I’m grateful for the chance to have made my peace with him.”
“That would have happened anyway,” she said, making her nearly empty glass vanish back to where it had come from. The conversation was making her head spin enough all by itself.
“I don’t think so, Beka,” he said, taking a step forward and gazing into her eyes. “I don’t think you understand the power you have.”
“What? Of course I do. I’m a Baba Yaga; I’m all about the power.” She wondered if she should pop in an entire vineyard, if the single glass wasn’t enough to impress him.
That crooked smile she loved so much snuck up on her and mugged her heart. “I’m not talking about your Baba magic, although I admit, that’s pretty damned impressive. I’m talking about your own personal magic,” Marcus said, his tone softer than usual.
“You have this amazing ability to make the people around you blossom into their best possible selves; you make people want to be better, to do better, just so you’ll give them that smile full of sunshine that you get when someone has done something nice.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beka said. She moved a little closer, as if drawn by a magnet that connected his soul to hers. “I don’t do that.”
“You do though,” Marcus said, suddenly right in front of her. He was so tall, so large, he should have felt intimidating. But she only felt sheltered by his nearness, a solid bulwark against the harsh realities of the storm that raged both inside and out.
“You don’t even see it, but everyone you touch is happier because of you. Poor Kenny was so shy; he couldn’t bring himself to say two words to a woman. But you were kind to him, you made him feel strong and confident, and he actually asked out this waitress he’s liked for years. They’re going on their second date tonight.
“And Chico, he’s been missing his family so much, but he always felt like he had to work here to send money back home, and because he’s illegal, he never dared to go back to visit. Talking to you all those times about his daughters, and the grandchildren he’s never met, he finally decided to go back to Mexico. I was able to get him a job down there with one of my Marine buddies who opened a hotel in Mazatlan after he got out.”
“That’s wonderful,” Beka said. “But they would have done those things eventually anyway, if they really wanted them.”
“I don’t think so, Beka,” Marcus said, putting one hand gently under her chin and tipping her face up so she couldn’t look away. “Because you made me a better person, too, and I would have said that was as impossible a task as cleaning radiation out of the ocean. When I left the Marines, I had been a killing machine for twelve years. It felt like I was some kind of monster, masquerading as a normal human being.”
She made an inarticulate sound of protest, but he shook his head.
“I went through the motions, but something inside me was broken, I thought forever. I’d loved being in the Marines, but the endless war and death and the constant need to look over my shoulder made it impossible for me to stay. But what it had done to my soul had rendered me unsuitable for any other kind of life.
“You changed all that. I’m not even sure how, but you showed me the way back to myself. I may not be a perfect human being, but at least now I feel like I have a chance of becoming someone I can face in the mirror every morning. So I had to come and say thank you, before we disappear out of each other’s lives forever.”
The thought of it made the room seem unbearably cold, and she moved forward without thinking, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. The thump of his heartbeat steadied her whirling thoughts and focused them on one suddenly clear and undeniable aim—to make love to Marcus one more time, no matter what came after.