Chapters (68)
- Biding Time
- Dedication
- Table of Contents
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-One
- Chapter Forty-Two
- Chapter Forty-Three
- Chapter Forty-Four
- Chapter Forty-Five
- Chapter Forty-Six
- Chapter Forty-Seven
- Chapter Forty-Eight
- Chapter Forty-Nine
- Chapter Fifty
- Chapter Fifty-One
- Chapter Fifty-Two
- Chapter Fifty-Three
- Chapter Fifty-Four
- Chapter Fifty-Five
- Chapter Fifty-Six
- Acknowledgments
- Other Titles by Lyn Gardner
- Going on Red
- Choices
- Born Out of Wedlock
- Give Me A Reason
- 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.