Back Biding Time Save as PDF
Chapters (68)
  1. Biding Time
  2. Dedication
  3. Table of Contents
  4. Prologue
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Chapter Twelve
  18. Chapter Thirteen
  19. Chapter Fourteen
  20. Chapter Fifteen
  21. Chapter Sixteen
  22. Chapter Seventeen
  23. Chapter Eighteen
  24. Chapter Nineteen
  25. Chapter Twenty
  26. Chapter Twenty-One
  27. Chapter Twenty-Two
  28. Chapter Twenty-Three
  29. Chapter Twenty-Four
  30. Chapter Twenty-Five
  31. Chapter Twenty-Six
  32. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  33. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  34. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  35. Chapter Thirty
  36. Chapter Thirty-One
  37. Chapter Thirty-Two
  38. Chapter Thirty-Three
  39. Chapter Thirty-Four
  40. Chapter Thirty-Five
  41. Chapter Thirty-Six
  42. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  43. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  44. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  45. Chapter Forty
  46. Chapter Forty-One
  47. Chapter Forty-Two
  48. Chapter Forty-Three
  49. Chapter Forty-Four
  50. Chapter Forty-Five
  51. Chapter Forty-Six
  52. Chapter Forty-Seven
  53. Chapter Forty-Eight
  54. Chapter Forty-Nine
  55. Chapter Fifty
  56. Chapter Fifty-One
  57. Chapter Fifty-Two
  58. Chapter Fifty-Three
  59. Chapter Fifty-Four
  60. Chapter Fifty-Five
  61. Chapter Fifty-Six
  62. Acknowledgments
  63. Other Titles by Lyn Gardner
  64. Going on Red
  65. Choices
  66. Born Out of Wedlock
  67. Give Me A Reason
  68. Mistletoe

“If you weren’t so fucking bullheaded, there wouldn’t have been a need for a mortal to save you from what you should have easily been able to do yourself!”

Chapter Four

Twelve years earlier, Bennett had only been back in Boston for a few months before the night she met Gus Rooney. It was December, and a Nor’easter had settled off the coast, bringing with it Siberian temperatures and winds gusting at ridiculous speeds. Snow had fallen for two days straight, and most of New England was closed. There was no traffic, the airports were shut down, and the convenience stores daring to stay open had barely any products left on their shelves. But when Bennett left her apartment that night, she wasn’t in search of food or drink. She was trying to escape the impossible. Her own thoughts.

She dressed as was expected, even though the cold didn’t affect her like it did others. Bennett’s skin would cool, her nose and cheeks would redden, and her breath could be seen, but frostbite warnings meant nothing to her. They hadn’t for centuries.

With her trousers tucked into boots reaching her knees and her leather coat’s hood pulled up to shield her from the biting wind and the sting of the icy flakes, she trudged through the snow. Like most other businesses, her gallery was closed because of the storm, and with no auctions to watch that night, Bennett didn’t have a destination in mind. The alleys she frequented were all blocked by drifts of snow, so she walked down the street, high-stepping it through dunes of wind-blown whiteness as arctic currents swirled around her.

It was almost midnight, and between the hour and the storm, Back Bay had become a ghost town. It was rare Bennett could appreciate such quiet. There was no hustle. There was no bustle. There was only the hush that comes from snow. She could hear the soft ping as icy flakes bounced off mailboxes and railings and the whoosh of wind as it burst from alleyways twice as forceful as when it had entered. More than once, Bennett braced against an unexpected gust, its strength all but taking her breath away, but resolute, she continued her journey. With her head down, she tried to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other in hopes the thoughts she refused to allow would leave her be. They didn’t, so Bennett kept on walking until a sound reached her ears…and gave her pause.