Page 28 of Death and Divination
Chapter 10
Ophelia
Ihad the dream again. This time I awoke to find Nash bent over me, his hands on my shoulders. Without a second thought, I sat up in bed and held him tight. And as the vision receded, I realized that all I had on was a tank top and some underwear, and that I was pressed against Nash’s bare chest.
It was a really nice chest. Lean and muscular with just a sprinkling of hair in all the right places. I placed my palm flat over his heart, feeling his pecs jump under my touch. Then, easing back from him, I trailed my fingers down his chest, over taut abs to the waistband of his pants.
And just like that, the nightmare was gone because I was thinking that we needed to go shopping. Nash had only this one outfit, and he’d need more clothes as well as some nice pajama bottoms. I wondered if he was a boxer or a brief guy. I’d ask him, but I could guarantee one hundred percent that his answer would be, “I don’t know.”
“You had a nightmare?” he asked, wrapping an arm around my waist and scooting me closer.
I shuddered, the images coming back in full color to my mind. “I’ve been having this dream lately, but I can’t interpret it. Each vision I get another piece of the puzzle, but I worry that by the time I figure it out, it will be too late.”
“A prophecy of doom, then?” He leaned forward and nuzzled my neck. Suddenly blood on oleander leaves was the last thing on my mind.
“Yes,” I breathed, less because I was answering his question in the affirmative and more because I wanted him to continue trailing little kisses down my neck and across my collarbone like he was doing. “Part of the vision already came true—me on a mountaintop, making a decision where either path led to death.”
The kissing stopped. “Last night. Either Sylvie’s death or mine. But we weren’t on a mountaintop. We were in your eldest sister’s house.”
“A lot of what happens in a vision is symbolic,” I told him. “The hard part is deciding what is symbolic and what is literal. Then interpreting the symbols…. The mountaintop I think meant this was a momentous decision—the choice of Sylvie’s physical death or your death as a reaper.” I snuggled against his chest. “Did you sleep well?”
“It’s the first time I’ve ever slept. I do feel energized, so I’m guessing I did sleep well.” He ran a hand down my back. “After a few hours, I woke and spent the rest of the night reading everything in your house and watching television. Do you know your cable channel has explicit sexual content after midnight? If you have a hot tub and a few willing female friends, I can recreate some of the episodes.”
I laughed, lifting my head to look at him. “First, that’s pay-per-view, so I hope you didn’t run up hundreds of dollars in porn on my cable bill. Secondly, I don’t do the group sex thing, and third, I don’t have a hot tub.”
“I could adapt the episodes to one partner.” He leaned down and kissed my collarbone. “But first I want to hear more about your vision.”
I pulled him down onto the bed and snuggled against him, then told him about the vision including the new portion that had appeared in tonight’s dream.
“A werewolf?” I felt him chuckle. “And golf balls?”
“The golf balls aren’t new. I’ve got no idea what those are about. The werewolf though…. I recognized her. It was Shelby. She’s the first lone wolf in Accident. Cassie put her foot down and insisted that the pack allow her to leave and remain in the town, even though she’s now shunned by her pack. She’s living under a bridge with Alberta.”
“And what does she have to do with blood on oleander leaves, the choice you made last night, this Marcus blaming you for something, a stench on the edge of a forest, and golf balls?”
I shifted around so I was facing him. “Beats me, but as soon as we’re done making love, I’m going to get us breakfast and head into town to visit Shelby. Maybe she’ll have some idea what the rest of my vision is about.”
“After making love?”
There was something really sexy in the deep rumble of his voice. I looked up into his dark eyes. Everything inside me came to life at what I saw there. He might be out of his element, a new mortal, or ex-reaper, or whatever, in this world, but he was learning fast, and the lost confused man of last night had been replaced by one who’d spent hours reading books, perusing soup can labels, and watching a whole lot of porn.
I just hoped it was good porn.
“Too soon? Am I rushing this?” I asked him.
“Well according to the movies I watched, we should be achieving penetrative sexual intercourse less than twenty seconds after meeting for the first time.”
“We’re way overdue then,” I teased. “Seriously though, you’ve only been an ex-reaper for twelve hours. I’m thinking you might need more than twenty seconds, more than twelve hours.”
He smiled. “I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you two years ago. The last twelve hours has only made those feelings grow stronger. You’re strong, caring, compassionate. I’ve watched you save lives. And last night I saw your love for your family, your comradery with your co-workers. You’re an amazing woman, Ophelia Perkins. I want nothing more than to spend whatever this new life is with you, but if you don’t feel the same, I understand.”
Did I? Feel the same, that is? It’s true that I didn’t know him well. But I’d certainly gone to bed with men I’d barely known based on sexual attraction alone, and what I felt for Nash was more than just sexual attraction. He’d delayed reaping souls for me. He’d given up everything he was, resurrected my sister, forme. In the last twelve hours I’d seen him to be kind, funny, and amazingly resilient. From reaper, to maybe-mortal, he’d accepted this new life of his with remarkable composure.
And the warmth of him here against me was making me really want to move things in a very physical direction.
“Before you answer, I have to confess something,” Nash said.
Crap. I held my breath, worried that this was going to be a deal breaker.
