Rachel Caine - No Love Lost

"Yes. Now. With her."

"Can you not see that she carries the Mark?"

"Of course I know. I helped infect her, and then she helped free me. I can promise you, I'm not going into this blind, or stupid, or any of the things you assume."

"I see. And what would you have me tell Jonathan?"

"Tell Jonathan -- tell him that I can't come back. It isn't time."

She took in a breath, let it out, and slowly nodded. She stood up, adjusting the folds of the robe with sweeps of her hands, and it flowed into a long-jacketed suit of brilliant yellow. She blew on her fingernails, and they bloomed with the same luminous color.

"I will tell him," she said. "He won't be happy."

"Then he can come here and tell me himself."

She cocked her head to the side, looking at him. "Oh, my dear one. You don't want that."

He took her hands in his, and kissed them with formal grace. "I do," he said. "And deep down, I think you do, too. It's time somebody kicked his ass out of its complacency."

She laughed and patted his cheek, not gently. Tiger play. On a human, it would have left marks.

"I hope she enjoys what you offer," she said. "Someday, perhaps you will offer it to me."

She turned, and walked into the wall. Showy, and unnecessarily complicated for an exit, but Rahel did like to leave an impression. David sighed and leaned against the bathroom door, eyes closed. Memories racing too fast to catch, thousands of years of experiences and regrets and triumphs and tragedies. No love lost between them. He'd always found that a very curious expression. Love was always lost, eventually. Rahel was right about that.

He felt the tug of Jonathan's impatience again. "No," he said, out loud. "Not this time."

This time, he would prove them all wrong.

No love lost, after all.