Two nights in a row, Amaya returned to that same house and watched. She even followed him and his female companion to a restaurant and sat next to their table. They laughed, kissed, made wedding and honeymoon plans. She had no explanation for what she saw and her pleas to Michael went unanswered, as usual. She didn’t know what the UnHallowed would do with the information—kill the guy, maim him, imprison him within the shadows—so she kept it to herself.

During the day, she walked the farm, as she was currently doing. Motion sensors couldn’t detect everything. Six hours patrolling the farm brought her to noon. She made lunch in her brand-new kitchen, then showered in her new master bathroom, with its glass octagon shaped stall big enough to host a party, and went back to the porch and stretched out on her swing. The sun was low when she woke. She checked the motion monitors and there was nothing to note. No humans poking around. No animals of any kind. Not even traffic on the road.

Around this time, she usually made another snack and waited for sunset, then got the hell outta there ASAP. She didn’t want another snack. She wanted dinner, when luncheon meat and stale bread were the only things in the refrigerator.

She pulled up Google and found an Italian restaurant that delivered. The farm was well outside of their five-mile radius—until she offered a one-hundred-dollar tip. Ordering enough for two was stupid, but she did it anyway. There was always tomorrow and she loved leftovers.

It took two and a half hours to arrive. By the time it did, a thunderstorm had rolled in. The sky was dark, though sunset was still an hour away. She didn’t have plates, silverware, or glasses, none of the finery to set a table for her first meal in her new dining room. The lack of those items didn’t make the moment less special and at least Bane had left her something to buy.

She hadn’t seen or caught his scent since that kiss. That damn kiss she couldn’t erase from her mind. Sometimes she wished she could. Sometimes, while walking the farm, the feel of his lips, the taste of his tongue, his leather and night scent, his tender touch, the memory of it all consumed her.

She opened the basement door and peered down the dark staircase. The first step is the hardest. Tonight, the last step would be the hardest, because the last step would bring her to him.

“It’s just a meal. He’ll say ‘No, thank you,’ and I’ll eat dinner alone.” That’s how all her evenings went. Alone. So nothing to get excited over. Soft lighting from wall scones illuminated the way as she walked downstairs and came to the first common area. It was still bare, with plain gray concrete floors and walls.

She had no idea which room was his or if he was even here. The honeycomb layout confused her, maybe that was the point of it.

“Stupid idea,” she mumbled and reversed back to the staircase.

“What’s a stupid idea?” Bane stood in an open doorway.

She startled and immediately felt ridiculous. He wasn’t the boogeyman and she was more than capable of killing the bastard if he were. She drank in his presence, the white button down with the open collar, showing the strong column of his throat. Tucked into his leathers, he appeared cosmopolitan, not fallen angel, especially with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

“Sorry for invading your privacy. I would’ve knocked, but I didn’t know which bedroom was yours.”

“It’s the one I’m standing in.” He moved into the common area. “You haven’t invaded my privacy. The house, the land, and everything underground belong to you. I am your guest and at your mercy.” He spread his arms.

She couldn’t stop her smile. At her mercy, yeah right. “Would you join me upstairs?” His gaze narrowed and his relaxed stance turned tense. “The sun hasn’t quite set, but it’s raining hard, all the curtains are drawn and the shutters are closed.”

The tension bled away from his shoulders. “Then lead the way.”

Back up the stairs, into the root cellar and through the kitchen, they went to the dining room. She walked around the head of the table and pointed to the setting beside her. “Would you join me for dinner?”

Hands loose at his sides, he strolled to the seat, passed it without a single glance at the food. He stopped beside her and said, “Allow me.”

Amaya stepped aside and Bane pulled the chair out for her to sit. She tried to hide her grin and failed as she sat all prim and proper. Bane sat and surveyed his meal.

“It’s veal parmigiana and spaghetti, my favorite, with a vinaigrette salad and garlic bread. I-I don’t know if you don’t eat at all. You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to—”

“You’re correct. I don’t have to eat. I haven’t eaten in centuries. I will eat with you because you invited me.” He picked up his plastic fork, twirled it around the spaghetti, and ate a mouthful.

She held her breath as he chewed and swallowed.

“It’s good, though I don’t really have a reference.”

Why did she feel like she’d aced a test? She dug into her own plate. When he grabbed the water bottle next to his plate, she said, “I usually have wine.”

“Next time, we shall.”

Next time sounded as if they had a future, as if they had years together, years of dinners, years guarding the Cruor, years of—

Rain pounded against the shutters. Overhead, the lights flickered. They both looked up, waited for the lights to decide on or off, and when they stayed on, continued eating.

Bane mimicked her and dipped a piece of bread in sauce, and brought it to his mouth. He licked his fingers and repeated the process. He really did seem to enjoy it, hadn’t lied when he said it was good. “I can cook. I can make us something, for next time. There are some recipes I want to try out, and now that I have a new kitchen there’s no excuse not to.”

A grin full of hungry anticipation coasted over his face. “I guess I’m your guinea pig.”

True enough. “Good thing you’re immortal and can’t die from food poisoning.”

He laughed, a rich sound filled with amusement that made her join him.

“I want to kiss you.” Oh hell! I did not just say that aloud.

His laughter died and the smile slid away. A faint glow circled his irises. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anything sexier. “Then do it,” he commanded, his voice thick and low.

Like a deer in the headlights, she blinked, stuck in the surreal moment. She wanted to look away, but her gaze had glued to his lips.

“Either you do it, or I will.” He scooted the chair back, scraping the wood floors, and rose.

Amaya copied him. One step was all that separated them. Breathing became impossible. Rational thought took a hike. His mouth on hers, his taste on her tongue was all that mattered. Ending the distance between them, she took that step, tilted her head, and—something beeped. An alarm of some sort. They froze, both angling their heads toward the sound. “What is that?” she asked.

“The motion sensor,” he growled, and darted into the kitchen.

She was beside him when he snatched the monitor off the countertop and tapped the screen.

“They’re in the field behind the barn,” Bane said.

“What? What’s in the field?”

“Something that shouldn’t be there.”

“Darklings?” she questioned.

“Too ethereal. This something is solid.” With a flick of his fingers, the shadows peeled away from the corners of the room.

Amaya ran to the kitchen window and yanked open the heavy curtains and shutters. Night had fallen while they ate. Still, it didn’t make sense. What he said made sense except… The man she saw in the city, the one inhabited by a Darkling, it was ethereal and solid. More than solid enough to set off a motion sensor.

She whipped around and shouted, “Wait!” but the shadows had already taken Bane. She had to get to him. She had to get to him now before he made an awful mistake.