Embrace of the Sandman, page 4
“Mags.”
The whispered word had my head spinning, my eyes zeroing in on Corbin’s lips. That had been my nickname once upon a time. What he would call me in the quietest of hours. He would only use that name when we were tangled up together, sweaty and rushing toward some cliff of pleasure, or sated and snuggled close with nothing between us. That word brought up feelings I hadn’t even remembered experiencing. And gave me the courage to answer him.
“Corbin?”
He groaned and turned toward me. For the briefest of moments, he opened his eyes, and I would have sworn he could see me. There was no looking through or past—those eyes locked on mine and stopped the breath I technically no longer needed. Froze me into place.
“Mags. I got your message. From Gates—I got it,” he said, his eyes going redder. Growing wet. “By the Fates, I have missed you.”
My heart broke. Absolutely shattered into a billion pieces within my chest right there on the riverbank. My message. That day on Mackinac Island—the fight that had destroyed the last Keres. I had taken a risk and reached out to the living. The witch who seemed to be able to see me. I had asked that they tell Sandman I was still there. That I loved him. That I missed him.
By the Fates, it had worked. He knew.
I choked out a sob and bent forward, trying to hold myself together. Drowning. I was the one drowning, but not in the river—in my emotions. Pain and loss, fear and grief, bliss and reconnection…hope. So much to feel in such a short amount of time. So many emotions to get dragged down by. I wasn’t strong enough to handle them all. All I could do, all I could say, were words of truth and pain.
“I’ve missed you too. Every single day.”
He groaned and closed his eyes, his head lolling to the side. Looking exhausted and likely to lose consciousness once more.
“Stay with me,” he said, his words softer than before. Barely more than a whisper. But they galvanized me. Strengthened my resolve and turned me bulletproof.
Stay with him? Death himself could no longer tear us apart.
“Okay.”
He coughed, still breathing hard. Still too quiet to sound fully awake and aware. “Promise me.”
I gasped, wanting to cry all over again. What he was asking seemed illogical, the dream of a confused and delirious man. A question posed in a way to make the answer impossible. But I knew my answer. I made my vow with a clear understanding that I would likely fail him.
“I promise.”
Chapter 6
The Plan
For days after the almost-drowning, I found myself following Corbin around all the time. I even entered his cabin with him, as intrusive as that seemed. I had to, though. Kapila wouldn’t think twice about coming into his home to cause him harm. I had to break his boundaries to protect him and hope he would understand. Though extra time watching him be this new version of himself wasn’t a bad benefit. Another gift he started giving me was his words.
“You used to like to put wild flowers in the house,” he said one day while out on a walk, talking to me as if he knew I stood on the trail not ten feet behind him. Addressing me for the first time since that day at the riverbank. “I try to remember to pick them, but I miss the smile on your face when you would see them sitting in glasses and jars along the windowsills.”
I smiled almost as if on cue when he stopped to pick a single flower from the side of the path, remembering. My sweet, young mate had tried so hard to make me happy. And he had. I’d returned the favor, spoiling him as best I could. We’d had a joyous seventy years to love each other. To find what made the other happy and exploit it every chance we could find. He’d filled my windows with wild flowers, while I had fed him and cared for him and made sure he had everything he needed from me. We’d been truly, utterly, lovingly blissed out.
At least…we were before the fact that our union hadn’t yielded a child became a hot button with the pack leadership. Before the day our Alpha decided the childbearing issue must have been Corbin’s lacking and called a prerogative to impregnate me himself. Before our entire world had been ripped apart by the claws and teeth of those we’d seen as family. I didn’t like to think of those last few days. Thankfully, Corbin kept me distracted.
“You were so young when we met,” he said softly, his voice quiet and contemplative. His tone remorseful as he peered down at that single flower. “All long limbs and knobby knees—yet somehow the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid my eyes on.”
I chuckled softly, gazing from my spot behind him on the trail. Unable to take my eyes off the man. “And you had floppy hair and freckles, but my wolf knew in that moment that you were meant to be ours.”
We waited in silence for a few moments, him spinning that flower between his fingers and me watching. I enjoyed the quiet time with him. Basking in his energy and pretending to be present with him. Perhaps he felt my energy the way I felt his, because he kept talking. Kept sharing those personal moments from so long ago.
“I was so nervous when we began our Klunzad.” Corbin shook his head, letting out a single, sarcastic laugh as he slipped the flower behind his ear and began walking again. “But you were quite the seductress.”
I rolled my eyes and followed behind him, fighting not to stare at his thick legs as they gobbled up the ground. “We’d been mated for months at that point. We’d already done all the things except that one—of course, I seduced you. If I hadn’t, you would have played the ‘I’m trying to be respectful’ card, and we would have never had sex. Besides, you didn’t seem to mind too much.”
Corbin continued along the trail, not talking. If I had been alive and this had been an actual conversation, he would have laughed along with me. Would have claimed he had been such an innocent boy. Would have joked more about me being the aggressor in our physical relationship. He would have been right—I had been the one to push him. He’d been kind and respectful, and I’d been obsessed with him. When we’d finally had our mating blessed by the Alpha and had hurried off for our Klunzad—a period of time alone, much like a human honeymoon after marriage—I’d been more than ready to join in every way possible with my mate.
My sweet Corbin had been nervous, though. Concerned for me. That first time, that first night together, had become the stuff of legend between us. A point of connection and an affectionate reminder of our past selves. I hadn’t thought about it since I’d died. He apparently had.
“I wonder if old Mikaylen ever got over hearing you howling and screaming my name that first night,” he said out of the blue as we approached the cabin. “He’d been one of the guards and the only one who’d ever mentioned anything to me.”
I huffed, looking toward the horizon as the sun set. Watching as the sky darkened even more in my gray world and remembering a different time. A different place. A different me. “Mikaylen was a bit of a creeper. I’m sure he didn’t need to get over anything except being jealous he didn’t have the skills to make his mate scream that way.”
“Back then, I felt angry that he’d heard you during a time that should have been ours. Still am, I think. But now, I’m prouder than anything. If he’d have tried harder with his bedmates, he could have made them scream, too.”
“Exactly.”
We returned to his cabin without incident, him walking through the door and me swirling inside in my specter form before settling into the corner. I preferred to stay a shadow inside, just in case, but I enjoyed the quiet moments together when he would talk to me. I truly did.
“Remember that time we spent an entire day exploring the caves on the northern slope of the packlands?” Corbin had moved into the kitchen to place the flower he’d picked in a glass before washing his hands at the sink. “We were so filthy on the way home that we stopped to swim in the creek for a bit, and you freaked out over a snake.”
I grinned, remembering. We hadn’t been officially mated yet. The Fates had initiated the pull, but we hadn’t been blessed by the pack. Hadn’t yet had the Rites of Klunzad ceremony. We both knew it was only a matter of time, but there had been rules to follow. Ones I had wanted to break.
“You jumped into my arms,” he said as he pulled a bowl out of the refrigerator and opened the lid. “We weren’t supposed to be so close, but you did it anyway.”
I nodded, fascinated by the smoky tone of his voice. Remembering that moment so vividly.
He grinned, shaking his head as he looked down into the bowl. “By the Fates, but I had wanted to get you naked right then. Say fuck the rules of the pack and lay you down in the grass. If I had known then how things would end…”
Corbin’s smile fell, the lightness leaving his handsome face. He turned to put the bowl in some boxy contraption, pressing buttons and making the thing whirr. When it dinged then quieted, he brought his food to the table and set it down on the scarred wooden tabletop, still looking upset. Obviously still angry.
As was I.
Before he took his seat, though, he moved around the table and pulled out the chair opposite him. He did that every night now, pulling out that chair as if to invite me to join him. Not that I ever did, but I liked the ritual. Loved seeing him making a place for me in his life even though I couldn’t fill the space.
“If you had known then how things would end…” I said, leading him. Knowing he couldn’t hear me but wanting to hear the end of that sentence. Needing it.
Corbin didn’t disappoint. “I would have fucked you right then, right there on the bank of that river, then run away with you. I wouldn’t have even gone back to grab our stuff.” He stabbed his fork into the bowl, twisting and pulling until whatever was inside—some sort of pasta, it seemed—sat on his utensil the way he wanted. “And then I’d still have you with me.”
He took a huge bite, the motion far angrier and more aggressive than I would have thought possible. The man seemed furious at the world, at our pack, at our situation. I had been too once upon a time, but the years and the job of being a Keres had worn down some of the rough edges. I felt more sad than mad at that point, but I could understand his emotional state. His ire. I couldn’t join him in those emotions.
I stared past him as I wallowed in grief, my dead heart breaking again even all these years later. “No one escapes Death forever.”
And so the days passed—me following Corbin around like a puppy, him speaking to me as if he knew I was close and could hear him, and that damn dining room chair pulled out and ready for me to take my seat every night. I never sat in it, never actually joined him at the table, but I listened. I commented when it felt right. I stayed quiet when it didn’t. And I allowed my memories of the two of us to escape their mental strongbox and fill me with both peace and grief.
About a week into this new existence, Grim returned. I had been standing inside the house with Corbin, listening to him hum softly as he cooked his dinner, when I noticed the menacing shadow right outside the open door. Grim had a way of looking as if he were ready to destroy your entire world at any second—how his witch saw past that to love the man, I had no idea because his very presence elicited a fear response in me. Still, I trusted the man. He was, in fact, the only one in the realm between the living and the dead I could trust. So, I slipped outside, ready to hear bad news for some reason. Ready to fight for my mate if I had to.
Grim didn’t greet me when I joined him on the porch.
“What are your plans?”
Easy question, easy answer. “To keep him alive.”
“She won’t stop coming for him.”
I stared off into the woods, expecting to see her shadowy form flying over the trees. Expecting to feel the danger headed my way right in that moment.
“Trust me, I know,” I said, refocusing on the man who had the respect to show up and warn me. “What else can I do?”
“I don’t know. We don’t have a fire witch handy to burn her.”
I snorted a laugh, remembering how Amber and her family had destroyed the last Keres sister. The move had been in self-defense, but it had still been rather impressive. Those fire witches were no joke. I needed to befriend one.
“No witches,” I said, answering him. “But Corbin has matches.”
Grim grunted softly, a sound almost like…approval? “That won’t work, sadly.”
“I know.” I sighed, stepping toward the railing. Needing a bit of fresh air to clear my head. “There has to be a way to stop her.”
“Only Death himself could direct her off this obsession.”
“And he won’t do that.”
The man paused as if thinking, as if considering the option. When he grunted low and quiet, I knew he had come to the same conclusion I had.
“No,” Grim said, his voice gruff. “Likely not. He enjoys the chaos too much.”
I looked out over the forest, the view from the cabin beautiful even in the land of desaturation and death. There was something calming about all those trees surrounding you. Something soothing about how the leaves seemed to almost dance in the air, singing as they rubbed against one another. Gorgeous to look at, relaxing to listen to, and terrifying as it gave an enemy a million places to hide all at the same time.
“How do you deal?” I asked, not looking away from the view. Not turning to face the Grim Reaper behind me. “With Hypnos and the threats against your witch—how do you handle it?”
He appeared at my side, staring straight ahead. “She’s safe while in the Summerlands, so I get a break. When she’s here, it’s harder, but I make sure to stay aware. And I have backup.”
My lips turned up, my small, sad smile unstoppable. “You call me to guard you.”
“Yes.”
“Is that why you keep showing up here?”
He turned my way, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“Are you here to guard us as some form of payback?”
A nod and a grunt were the only response I received. Yes, Grim came to watch over us because he felt he owed me. And maybe he did, but I wouldn’t have called in that debt.
Deep down, I was glad I didn’t have to.
I was also glad I had someone out there watching over Corbin and me.
“I can’t,” I finally said, my voice barely more than a whisper. The fears that refused to let me go squeezing what little life I had left right out of me. “I can’t leave his side.”
“I know.”
“I’m afraid for him.”
“I know that too.”
I took a deep breath, readying the next three words. The ones I didn’t trust myself to say. The ones that could come back to bite me later. The three most important words I could ever say.
“I need help.”
Grim didn’t balk, didn’t sigh or grumble either. He inched closer, moving until our shoulders touched. Until we stood side by side and connected, both staring out at the forest. Both still and contemplative. Both ready to fight.
It was Grim who broke our silence. “That’s why I’m here, sis.”
I choked on an inhale, fighting hard to hold back tears. I hadn’t even realized how much I’d needed to hear that—how I’d needed to know someone had my back in this fight. Without thinking about it, I shifted a little closer and leaned my head against his shoulder, letting my guard down for the first time in days. Taking a breather without breath. Behind me, I continued to hear Corbin singing softly. The water eventually turned on, the sound a reminder of what we’d been doing. He had finished eating and had begun cleaning up. He would wash the dishes by hand, dry them, and put them away. He would wipe down the table and the counters, making sure everything he’d used was returned to where it belonged for the night. He would tidy up his home before sitting down to relax for the evening.
He would continue to live his life alone while I watched, the voyeur in his midst. His protector sneaking a peek into his world. The one who had set the danger upon him in the first place.
The one who had no idea how I could possibly keep that man alive for as long as he deserved to live, even with the Grim Reaper himself as my partner.
Chapter 7
The Warning
Being around Corbin all the time—listening to him speak as if to me when I couldn’t respond—had become some sort of gift made up of torture and love and cruelty. A single present encapsulating the very best and very worst emotions. I needed it to never stop.
Thankfully, Corbin kept an almost-constant running commentary, regaling me with stories of us together, of what he’d done after I’d died, of his feelings and plans for the future. He talked a lot, giving me glimpses into his life. The life he’d lived mostly without me.
“I started riding motorcycles specifically to join the Feral Breed Motorcycle Club. I’d wanted to be a protector, do some security work, and fight alongside the good guys who were trying to drag packs like our old one into the modern age.” He sat on his deck, his feet propped up on the railing, relaxing in the late-afternoon sun. I stood nearby, shaking my head. My Corbin on a motorcycle—in one of those clubs that performed security for the leader of the National Association of the Lycan Brotherhood. I couldn’t believe it. Corbin had never been a fighter while I’d been alive, never gone out of his way to be aggressive. Apparently, he’d grown after my death.
“The best thing about the MC world wasn’t the work, though. It was the guys. They still call me every day—Rebel, Gates, Beast, others. They seem to take turns checking in on me. I also get calls from this guy named Scab. You would not have liked him, let me tell you. He’s a thousand times worse than Mikaylen, but at his heart, he’s a good guy. Needs a good punch in the face sometimes, but a good guy.”
He continued, talking about the men whom he had ridden and fought with, about their mates and children. About how he had become Uncle Sandman so many times over and had found so much joy in the role. I had been smiling at Corbin, absorbing his words and basking in his existence, when I’d felt the air change. When the sky had seemed to darken a touch. I looked up in time to see a black shadow come flying across the grass toward the porch. I was in motion without thought, ready to fight with no plan whatsoever, but the shadow shifted to solid before I even reached the steps.
