Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
I just got a message from Demarco saying he’s back in the city and on his own as his beloved is at a mortal wedding function for women only. I’ll invite him for dinner.
Have fun. It made Illium’s heart overflow with happiness that Aodhan had allowed this friendship into his life, even though with it came the promise of future pain—for like Catalina, the irreverent Demarco had no desire to live for eternity. Don’t let him lead you astray into a tattoo.
I’m more interested in which part of his body he’s talked his mate into marking—she believes him a pristine canvas and, to date, has only ever agreed to tattoo him thrice. The first was her name on a part of his anatomy I have no desire to see, the second is the guild mark on his inner left forearm, and the third I’ll see tonight—he assures me it’s in safe visual territory.
As Illium chuckled, Aodhan said, Enjoy your time with Catalina, Blue. A caress in the words that was a kiss against Illium’s mind. Smoke and I will be here when you return.
“So,” he said to Catalina once he was back in her kitchen, “Aodhan says he cooked for you.”
Catalina put both hands to her heart with a gasp. “So beautiful he is, Illium. Like a star fallen to earth—and such compassion in that heart. It pours out of him brighter than his physical beauty. But”—a groan, her hands going to her face—“he cannot make a pasta!”
Illium snorted, his shoulders shaking so hard that he had to grip the counter to keep himself upright. “None of us are perfect, Catalina.”
“I ate it.” A whisper. “I couldn’t hurt his feelings, he was so proud of his gift to me.”
The idea of two people he loved being so thoughtful of each other warmed Illium to the very depths of his being. “I’ll only tell him the terrible truth after you’re with Lorenzo,” he promised with a wink. “Then I’ll teach him how to make proper pasta, like you taught me.”
“I never spoke to your friend before you were in China.” Catalina took a long sip of her tea, sighing with her eyes closed as the heat sank into her bones. “Then he started to come in for the alfajores for you, and what could I do but fall in love with him? He’s so distractingly beautiful that it’s easy to overlook the tender heart inside, but I see it. That man knows how to love.”
Her eyes drilled into Illium.
Who felt his cheeks begin to redden. Of all the people to figure this out, he hadn’t expected it to be Catalina.
“I knew it!” Catalina slapped her hand on the table. “The way he speaks about you, and now you, looking like a kitten that got its tail stuck in a door. Why are you trying to keep it a secret?”
“It’s new, Catalina.” Illium chopped up tomatoes for the sauce, having already pulled out the spices Catalina kept stocked for just this purpose. “We’ve been friends forever—he was my first true friend and he will always be my best friend. The rest…it’s…”
“You’re terrified of destroying your friendship,” Catalina said bluntly. “Don’t look so surprised. I’ve been around a long time.” Another burst of laughter. “For a mortal anyway.”
Illium found himself wondering once again at the wisdom of some mortals who’d lived such a short life in comparison to his own. Was it only that angels were designed to mature at a far slower rate, or was it that mortals were designed to do the opposite, their brain and heart cells conscious of the inexorable passage of time in a way that made every moment portentous?
“Do you want to go back to how it was?” Catalina asked with the forthrightness of a friend who’d known him for decades—though she hadn’t always spoken to him thus. She’d been a touch reticent at the start, though he’d never minded whatever she said to him, but it was as if she’d said to hell with filters after a certain birthday and he loved her all the more for it.
His answer was instinctive. “No. I—I can feel who we can be, like this huge and glorious sunrise on the horizon, if we can only make it there.” The need to stand inside that sunrise hurt, it was so intense.
Instead of asking him what was stopping him, Catalina paused to sip her tea and to think over his words. He busied himself with reducing the sauce.
“I suppose,” she said at last, “in such a long life, my friend, this decision could impact a thousand years.”
“More,” he whispered. “All the eons of my existence, Catalina. He’s the only one I’ve ever loved or will ever love this way.” A simple, inevitable truth. “Our healer refers to him as my heart’s mirror, and I as his.”