Page 28 of Fallen
“Do you sell these?” I whispered, nodding toward the bowls.
Anna threw another ring. It wobbled on a rim before dropping to the wood. “Damn it.”
I bit back a laugh at her curse.
“Yeah, ten bucks,” he murmured.
Casting a glower our way, Anna pursed her lips. “Hey, I heard that. Lucian, don’t youdare. I can do this.”
I scratched my chin. “I have no doubt, I only wanted to sate my curiosity.”
“Hmm.” She closed her eyes and faced the table again. As if afraid of losing her nerve, she wildly tossed a ring.
Arcing over the first three rows, it headed downward, and I held my breath.
It was a perfect aim, landing neatly on a bowl directly in the middle of the setup.
“Did I get it?” she asked, her voice high and breathy.
“Pretty little lady,” the barker said through a beaming smile. “You just won yourself a fish.”
“Yes!” Anna jumped up and down and clapped her hands, then twirled in place. “Lucian, I did it.”
Her laughter and joy were contagious. I gripped her upper arms and smiled down into her beautiful face. “You did.”
Throwing her arms around my neck, she hugged me closely. “Thank you.” Her soft voice needled into my brain. Faint stirrings of unease and desire swam through my veins at the close contact. Her body curled into mine—soft and inviting, warm and comforting.
I stood there, frozen and unyielding, fighting the urge to wrap my arms around her back and bury my face into the crook of her neck, to devour her body, to stake my claim on this human’s soul. Not for retribution for humanity’s sins, but for the sheer joy of making her mine, of keeping her safe and happy.
Several seconds later, as if realizing I hadn’t yet returned the gesture, she slowly released me and stepped backward. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Guess I’m not supposed to touch a Chosen uninvited. Isn’t that what you said when I was younger?”
“Anna,” I said, pain threatening to choke out my voice. “I wouldneverpunish you, it’s just—”
“Here you are. One goldfish ready for his new home.” The man handed the bowl to me.
Reluctantly, I took it, careful to keep the contents from sloshing on my hands or jeans.
“It’s okay, Lucian. I shouldn’t have hugged you like that.” Anna extended her cane and turned toward the walkway. “I can tell you didn’t like it.”
I strode next to her, keeping an eye on the blasted fishbowl. “That is not exactly true. I would never deny your touch, it’s just…”How to put this feeling into words?“You are still young and unblemished, and I…I am ancient, tarnished, unworthy.”
“As of tomorrow, I’m officially not a child anymore.” Tension strained her words, dropping her voice to a low murmur. “It’s because I’m blind, isn’t it?” She lowered her head, her cheeks reddening.
“What?” I halted. “No. That has nothing to do with how I feel.” Tired of dealing with the fishbowl, I used my power to send it into the fourth dimension to retrieve later, then shot in front of Anna, grabbing her forearms to stop her movement. “Your blindness does not deter me, dear one. It makes no difference whether you can see or not. I am intrigued by your mind, your heart, your soul, not by your looks or what you can or can’t do compared to another human.”
She stood still as people blurred past us. Ride music blared from speakers down the aisle. “More and more, Lucian, I yearn to be just like everyone else. Maybe if I’d beenbornblind I wouldn’t know what I’m missing, but those memories of color and light when I was a child sometimes rear up. The pain they cause makes an ugly jealousy rise inside my heart. There are times I want to scream and claw my way out of the dark space inside my head.” A glimmer of wetness shone from her eyes until she blinked it away. “Painting—and your visits—are the only true things to relieve the eternal night in my life.”
“Damnation.” I ran a hand through my hair, wishing I could explain my mixed emotions and soothe away her turmoil. “Ann, I…” Words failed me. I’d watched as she'd gotten older and the blindness had caused her more grief, more yearning. She’d once asked me to fix her sight, but she’d never seemed broken in the first place. I adored her streak of independence and her sharp mind.
“Lucian?” Raising her fingertips to her eyelashes, she wiped away more brimming tears. “Why’d you show yourself to the sisters today?” The breeze picked up, lifting the hair from her shoulders. “I didn’t speak your name in prayer.”
Because I wanted to be near you, to hear your voice, to see your newest paintings.Yet, I couldn’t say these things. Maybe because they felt too raw, too truthful, as if by speaking the things in my heart would give her power I could never get back.
Or the honesty will crack my stone heart like a chink in steel armor, the truth a fine needle seeking the softness underneath, ferreting out the weak flesh.
“I had business in the area.” I dropped my fingers from her velvet skin with a regretful sigh.
“There wasn’t any other reason you wanted to see me?” Her eyebrows rose and her lips thinned.
