Page 103 of Taste of Death

“Why?”

There was another shrug as he looked down at his hands. “I’m not a writer. I only have so many words to express how much you mean to me. Each one of those marked passages is a description of love that I never could have come up with.” A mirthless huff escaped him. “And still, none of it compares to the bliss of waking next to you before I fucked it all up.” He glanced quickly at his watch. “I’ve said my piece and taken more than ten minutes of your time, so I’ll leave you be.”

“Wait,” I said, my chest tightening in despair at the thought of him leaving.

Novak paused on his way to the door. “Yes?”

I forced the words out through a tight throat and a thundering heart. “Do you… do you want us to be together again?”

“More than anything,” he answered quickly. “But I’m not arrogant enough to ask for a second chance. I’ve already hurt you enough, and I will never put that pressure on you. You know my feelings and where I stand. If you’d like to try again”—a shadow of his playful smirk emerged as he turned to leave—“you know where I live.”

Chapter 32

Amy

Afew days later, after lots of thinking around in circles and talking to Tavia, I headed out to Novak’s house to give him my answer.

I smelled the fire before I saw it. When I saw the tall plume of smoke in the direction of his street, panic overtook me and I started running in that direction.

No one else seemed concerned, and that was crazy to me. House fires were devastating in Sapien. A person could lose everything, even loved ones, in a blaze that spread out of control.

But when I saw the dead end and the curving retaining wall that marked Novak’s courtyard, my running steps slowed. A fire was indeed ablaze, but contained.

A pile of wooden furniture was on fire, with cardboard boxes and crumpled pieces of paper stuffed in various spots for kindling. I couldn’t tell what the furniture had been, possibly armchairs or a desk.

Novak sat on the steps leading up to his front door, his arms resting on his knees, a lit darakt cigarette dangling in his hand as he watched the fire. He didn’t move, didn’t seem to hear me or my heartbeat over the crackling wood as I stepped closer.

“I’ve never seen you smoke those before.”

He startled at my voice, eyes blinking and going wide as he looked at me, like he couldn’t believe I was there.

“Guess I’m not feeling like myself lately.” He tossed the cigarette into the bonfire. “Don’t like the taste of those anyway.”

A long moment of awkwardness passed, like neither one of us was sure what to say or do.

“What are you burning?” I asked finally.

“My father’s favorite armchairs,” he said. “And all documents and records pertaining to Rathka’s Order. That clan is ash on the wind now.”

“Good,” I said. “Good riddance.”

“Agreed.” Novak sighed.

“Have you thought of a new clan name?”

There was a long pause before he answered. “No, not yet.”

I took a deep breath and swallowed. “I… had an idea for one. If you’d like to hear it.”

He gave me a long, lingering look. “Sure. What’ve you got?”

“How about,” I swallowed again, “Blood and Truth?”

Novak looked toward the fire again and nodded slowly. “It’s a good one. I like it.”

“Thanks. I thought you would.”

The next awkward moment felt like a canyon neither of us knew how to cross.

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