Page 56

For the first time, there was no celestial strength waiting beneath the surface if I needed it. No flight, no supernatural healing, no endless succession of years.

I was a man of thirty-four who'd just made a rather dramatic change to his life expectancy.

And I was exhausted.

Everly sat beside me and wrapped both arms around my waist. I leaned back against the leather, grateful for the support, and drew her close.

She was quiet for a while.

Then she rested her palm against my chest.

"I can feel your heart beating."

"I certainly can. It's making a hell of a racket."

She laughed, and I felt her relax against me.

I turned my head to kiss her hair.

"That should settle down once I stop feeling as though I've been thrown down several flights of stairs."

"I'd prefer you didn't test that theory. In fact, now that you're human, I may insist on a bicycle helmet."

"A bicycle helmet? I haven't decided whether I'm willing to go that far."

She laughed again, then reached up and kissed me.

The kiss was gentle at first, her hand warm against my cheek. I drew her closer, and the pressure of her body against mine felt startlingly different. My skin was more sensitive than I remembered, and the ache in my shoulders reminded me that I couldn't simply ignore physical strain anymore.

I welcomed every unfamiliar sensation.

When Everly eased back, she studied me with an expression that made me want to kiss her again.

"Are you happy?" she asked.

I took a moment to consider the question.

I'd lost my wings, my strength, and the immortality I'd once taken for granted. I could feel the consequences already, from the soreness in my back to the need to sit quietly while my heart returned to a sensible rhythm.

But Everly was beside me, looking at me with the same affection she'd shown before the transformation.

"Yes," I told her. "I am."

Her smile was immediate.

"Then so am I."

I kissed her, slipping my hand behind her neck and drawing her toward me. She settled against my chest, and for a while we remained on the sofa with the harbor lights shining through the windows.

Eventually, Everly rose to fetch us water from the kitchen. She returned with two glasses and a folded throw she'd found draped over the back of an armchair.

"You're shivering," she said, settling the blanket around my shoulders.

I looked down at it with amusement.

"Apparently I'm cold."

"Welcome to November in Massachusetts."