Page 17 of Toward Immortal Ruin

“Solid choice, professor.”

After stowing Marianne in the bathroom, Eden and Nero went back downstairs and returned to the sidewalk. The brisk lick of February air invigorated his senses, but she popped up her collar and stuffed her hands in her pockets.

Without thinking, he reached out and snuggled her against his flank, intent on getting her partially out of the wind. When he realized what he’d done, he internally cringed.

Thankfully, Eden didn’t recoil. She cuddled against him like they’d been doing it all their lives. When the group around them started moving, they followed, but she remained plastered against him even after they entered the store. Eden breathed a sigh of relief.

Instead of walking off, her hand somehow found his. With a squeeze, she led him back to the small section of clothing near the back of the store, primarily tourist-type items.

“Find anything you like?” Eden asked, looking through the small shelf of paperbacks a couple of feet away.

“I haven’t found anything in XXL yet.”

She scoffed without heat as she abandoned the books and walked over. “Oh, I think we can find you something.”

With far more energy than he’d expended, Eden rooted through the hangers. He watched her, grinning like a loon, as she sorted through shirt after shirt in search of something he could use.

“Ah-hah!”

Eden pulled out an “I Heart Chicago” shirt—in hot pink—with far more panache and satisfaction than the situation called for. She looked at him with an air of triumph, and he couldn’t help but beam.

“I love it.”

She chuckled. “I’m just kidding. There’s a blue one right here.”

“Absolutely not. I’m taking the pink. I was your first choice, and I’m going with it.”

Snorting, Eden said, “It takes a very secure man to wear hot pink. I’m in awe, Nero.”

“I live to impress.”

As they strode down the hall toward the checkout, Nero grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste. Eden kept her eyes glued to the candy section, making a little noise of pleasure when she found the one she wanted. It nearly made Nero howl, which would have been entirely un-pantherlike.

She turned to him completely unaware of her effect. “Lorna Doone cookies. My mom used to get these all the time when I was little. We’d eat them whenever we’d go on vacations, and it was always special to me. I don’t actually even like the taste of them, but it’s such a sentimental thing when I find them. That’s probably a weird thing to say.”

“Not at all,” he replied. “Sometimes that’s where the strongest memories are—tied to smells and tastes. I can still remember exactly how my mother’s food used to taste, and how our barnused to smell after rain. It takes me right back, and I feel like I’m a kid again.”

“Sometimes I wish I could go back, you know? Tell my mom all the things I should’ve told her before she left.” Eden’s fingers tightened on the box of cookies. “I miss her. So much. I feel like my world stopped turning after she died. The earth kept going round and round, but I was still rooted to the same spot.”

Nero knew the feeling well. “Death has a tendency to do that. Losing the people closest to you is hard—and it never really gets any easier. Sometimes that pain hides into the background, but it’s always just as sharp when it comes back to the front.”

“You lost someone, too, didn’t you?”

“My parents. It’s been ages now, but I still remember that day like it was yesterday.” He smiled as old memories surfaced. “When I was a kid, I used to be really hard on clothes. A new pair of shoes every other week, holes in my pants, tears in my shirts. My mom was always sewing on knee patches.”

He frowned, realizing the truth of it. “I haven’t talked about my mom in years.”

Eden linked her hand with his. “I’m glad you could.”

“You’re easy to talk to.”

“Back at ya, Coffee Shop.”

The spark between them escalated, and when she twined her fingers around his, he was absolutely ensnared by her. His panther brushed against his skin, threatening to leap forward and drag his rough tongue along her cheek. The beast had a one-track mind and strong impulses.

After paying for their things, they went back out into the snowy weather. He tightened his fingers along hers, hating that she’d be cold.

A telepathic hail from Remmus caught him off guard. The oddness of the request was so strange that he lost track of where he was in relation to the street.

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