Линси Сэндс - Meant to Be Immortal [calibre]

Smiling, he shook his head at his good fortune, but when she tried to return to kissing, he held her off to ask, “And you’ll be my life mate?”

“Yes, of course,” she said without hesitation.

“Thank you,” Mac said, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’ll call Bastien about making arrangements for the turn. We’ll schedule it for whenever you—”

“Wait. What?” CJ asked, pulling back. “The turn? What are you talking about?”

Mac eyed her with confusion. “I thought Bricker explained things to you?”

“He did,” she agreed. “They all did. They told me all about Atlantis, and the nanos. How they keep you healthy and heal wounds, and keep you young. How they make you strong, fast, give you night vision and all that, but nobody mentioned anything about a turn. What is it?”

“How could they not tell you that part?” he asked with disbelief.

CJ frowned. “It isn’t like a vampire turn, is it? Like you turning me into a bloodsucking immortal?”

Now it was Mac’s turn to frown as he recalled her reaction to the knowledge that he worked with blood when they’d first met. She’d shuddered and made a face that seemed to suggest she found blood gross. Swallowing, he considered the matter briefly, but he couldn’t lie about this. Blood was a necessity to his kind. She would need to consume it if she turned.

“Yes,” he said finally.

“Oh.” She grimaced with disgust. “That isn’t necessary, is it? I mean, do I have to turn for us to be together? Can’t we just . . .” She shrugged helplessly. “Be together?”

“We could,” he said slowly. “But turning has all sorts of benefits, my love. Your HIV would be eradicated. You wouldn’t have to take medicine every day as you do now. In fact, you would never have to take any kind of medicine again for anything.”

Her eyebrows rose at that, but then she bit her lip briefly and pointed out, “But it’s kind of taking medicine for you when you take blood, isn’t it? I mean, it’s necessary for you guys to live. You can’t do without it.”

Mac blinked in surprise at the suggestion. He’d never thought of it like that.

“Can’t we just be together without my turning?” she asked, leaning into him.

“We could, but . . .”

“But?” she prompted when he hesitated.

“You’re asking me to accept your death before we’ve even started,” he said sadly.

CJ’s eyes widened with amazement. “I’m not dying. You’re not getting rid of me that quickly. I’ve got a good thirty years left in me at least.”

“Unless you’re in a car accident, shot, or hit by a bus,” he said dully.

“Accidents happen all the time, Mac. Surely even your nanos can’t save you from accidents?”

“Unless my head’s cut off and kept away from my body for an extremely long time, or I’m set on fire, yes, the nanos can save me from most accidents,” he told her solemnly.

“Oh.” She bit her lip again, but said, “Still, we’d have thirty or forty years together. That’s nothing to sneeze at.”

“CJ,” he said gently. “I was born in 1009 b.c. I’ve lived more than three thousand years, and may live three thousand more. The human life span is a blink of an eye to me. Thirty or forty years is half a blink, and I’d spend it constantly worrying about you getting in an accident, or falling ill . . . and then I’d spend the next three thousand years mourning your passing.” Mac frowned as he recognized the truth behind his words. Being with her while she was mortal would be a constant hell of worry, mixed with the constant highs of having her near. It would be a roller coaster ride, but worse, because he’d also have the constant knowledge that she would die soon and leave him alone.

Mac wasn’t sure he could handle that. He’d have to, of course. He couldn’t not take her any way she was willing to be with him, but he was afraid he’d be a moody son of a bitch because of it and started to say, “I’m not sure—”

He’d meant to say, “I’m not sure you’ll like the man I’ll become living like that,” but CJ had covered his mouth, cutting him off.

“I’ll turn,” she said abruptly.

“Really?” he asked, hope thrashing around inside his chest.

“Yes. Really,” she said, and managed a weak smile. “I love you, and if it will make you happy, I’ll turn or let you turn me, or whatever it is.”

Scooping her up off the floor, Mac swung her around and then hugged her tightly. “You won’t regret it. I promise. I’ll spend the rest of my life ensuring you don’t. I’ll bring you flowers every day. I’ll buy you stock in Reese’s Pieces. I’ll—” His words died as she covered his mouth again, and Mac stopped spinning around and set her down. Since her hand was over his mouth, he simply tilted his head in question.

“You don’t have to do any of that,” she said quietly. “Just love me and that will be enough.”

“I already do,” he told her solemnly.

“Well, I know that,” she said with exasperation. “I meant, take me to bed and make love to me so I don’t have to think about this turning business anymore for now.”

A laugh slipped from Mac’s mouth before he could catch it back, and he scooped CJ up into his arms and headed out of the kitchen, saying, “My God, you’re a demanding woman. Are you going to be ordering me to make love to you often now that we’re life mates?”

“Every chance I get,” she assured him, running her hand over his upper chest.

“A ballbuster and a sex fiend.” Mac clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Damn, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Some drug addict was tweaking and set your house on fire,” CJ said dryly as he carried her into the bedroom. “It was obviously meant to be.”

“Obviously,” Mac agreed on a laugh, kicking the bedroom door closed behind them.

An Excerpt from What She Wants

Turn the page for a peek of

WHAT SHE WANTS

a Lynsay Sands classic historical romance

Available Summer 2021

One

The door flew open, slamming into the cottage with what would have been a crash if it had been made of stronger material. Hugh had been about to dismount, but paused to run a wary eye over the old woman now watching him from the open door.

Eada. She was very old, age bowing her shoulders and gnarling her hands and fingers. Her hair was a long coarse cape of white around a face puckered and wrinkled by the passage of years. Only her cobalt eyes still held any hint of snapping youth. They also held a knowledge that was unnerving.

She can look into your eyes and see your soul, pick out every flaw you possess, along with every grace. She can read your future in the dregs of the wine you drink and read your past in the lines on your face.

Hugh had been told all of this and, still, a jolt went through him as he looked into the eyes of the old witch. He felt a shock run through his entire body, as if she truly were looking right into him. As if she could see all the way down to his presently curling toes. She held Hugh in thrall for a moment with just her eyes, then turned to walk into the hovel. She left the door open—undoubtedly an invitation for him to follow.

Hugh relaxed once she was out of sight, then glanced at the mounted man beside him: Lucan D’Amanieu, his friend and confidant for years.

Hugh had rather hoped his companion would soothe the foolish superstitions suddenly rising within him. The old childhood beliefs in witches and haunts were all rattling to life in his suddenly fancy-filled mind, and he’d been counting on Lucan to arch one amused eyebrow and make some derisive comment that would put everything back into perspective. Unfortunately, it appeared his sensible friend was feeling rather fanciful himself today. Rather than soothe him, Lucan appeared nervous himself.