Incorporeal Page 5

  Her stomach rumbled and she remembered that her food intake for the day had consisted of coffee with Dalton and an apple for lunch. “Fine,” she called out to the empty room. “I’ll eat all by myself. And here I planned to make some spicy curry for you, Nathan. Have you ever eaten curry?” She headed to the kitchen. “Do you even eat?”

  Sara grumbled as she banged pots and pans around on the stove. Reaching into the fridge, she filled both arms with bags of vegetables and a package of raw chicken. Before she knew it, she’d dropped the slippery chicken onto the floor, the veggies went skittering across the cutting board and she’d sliced her hand with a paring knife.

  Sara took a deep breath; wrapped a clean dishtowel around her bleeding palm. “Stop it. You’re acting like a complete idiot. He didn’t abandon you; he’s not capable of abandoning anyone. A ghost can’t fall in love. He’s dead, Sara, dead and buried. Your worlds collided for a moment, that’s all.”

  She stared at the mess she’d managed to make of the kitchen, remembering the satisfied sound in Nathan’s voice when he’d told her he’d put away all the groceries.

  Enough! I can’t think about this now. I’ll go crazy if I do.

  With a sob, Sara ran for the stairs.

  ***

  “Why have you come, Natan de Manua?”

  Nathan paused at the bottom of the majestic winding marble staircase. He stared at the Guardian. “You know why I’m here.”

  “Of course I do.” A smile cracked the stone cold face. “I simply want to hear the words from your own lips.”

  Nathan felt like punching the angel.

  “Your pride has ever been your enemy, Natan. We are not.” He moved his golden spear aside.

  As he passed the angel, he said, “Nathan. My name is Nathan.”

  “It is Natan, God has given.”

  Nathan stopped and turned to look into the imposing face of the Guardian. “My mother called me Nathan, so to you, I am Nathan.”

  A wicked grin curved the corners of the creature’s mouth. “So be it, Nathan. I hope you find the answers you seek.”

  Nathan continued up the stairs without a backwards glance. “Or you may leave with even more questions.” The voice trailed after him. Determined to ignore his doubts, Nathan increased his pace. He needed to speak with one person, if he could find her.

  ***

  She waited beyond a thin, slivery veil of rain, alone in the ruins of his former home. Nathan felt a bitter laugh well up inside. It’s not as if anything remains a secret in Sheol, in this realm of shades and shadows. Of course she expected him, even after so many centuries.

  She sat upon the edge of a tumble-down wall, watching him approach. Long golden curls drifted about her serene face, stirred by a nonexistent breeze. She appeared very much the same as she had centuries before, when he’d been a young boy and she’d held him in her arms, comforting him after his brothers had teased him and left him behind to struggle along on his pony, covered in the dust of their larger mounts. Nathan was her youngest, but he’d been her only child to survive the catastrophe.

  He dropped to one knee and bowed his head. Reaching for the pale slender hands he remembered so well, Nathan grasped them, folding them within his own. “Mother, here I am.”

  Her reaction stunned him. He expected her to pull away, to scorn him, but instead she brought his hands to her lips. “My son, my dear son, you’ve come back to us. You’ve forgiven yourself at last.”

  “Forgiven myself? Mother, I failed you, all of you. I’m not the one who can forgive. It’s you and, and…” His voice broke and he let go of her hands, dropping his head into her lap.

  “Nathan.” A gentle hand stroked his hair. “There was never anything to forgive. You were not responsible for our fate. I praised God you were spared.”

  “Spared?” Nathan lifted his head, his incorporeal cheeks damp with tears. “I should have been there to protect you, or die with you. Instead was off with… I behaved like a selfish lout, pursuing my pleasure, leaving my family to suffer at the hands of our enemies.” In one swift motion, he rose to his feet, turning away from her. “I was dead drunk on the couch of a courtesan. How can you forgive me?”

  Her voice floated over him like the thin silk of a spider’s web. “It was never my place to forgive, Nathan, and it was not your sin.”

  He lashed out, his hand slicing through the space between them. “Then whose sin is it, if not mine? You were slaughtered, every one of you, down to the lowest serving man.”

  “My son, wait.” His mother rose and laid a hand on his shoulder. “It is not my sin to forgive because it is no sin at all. You blame yourself for something you could not have prevented.”

  “Yes, I could…”

  “No,” his mother interrupted. “You could have done nothing. Do you hear me, Nathan? Are you listening to me?” She spun him around with surprising strength until he faced her.

  “Look at me, my son.” He met the blue eyes he remembered so well. “Your presence would not have stopped the slaughter and you would have died in agony. That thought gives me no peace.”

  For a moment, the length of several human heartbeats, Nathan said nothing. He felt as if he was suffocating, but at last he opened his mouth to speak. “But I did die with you. I’ve not felt alive until…” He blurted out the words before he could stop himself. ”Until now.”

  His mother raised her eyebrows in sudden understanding. “Ah, until you met her.”

  Nathan’s nod was almost imperceptible.

  “Then you haven’t come back to us. You don’t belong here.”

  Nathan shook his head. “I came to try…” His voice broke again and he was forced to swallow before continuing. “I want to understand why, Mother. I must know what I am. It seems I’m not dead, but I’m not quite alive either.” He reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. “What am I? By the grace of God, Mother, if you know, tell me.”

  She sighed. Tugging at the hand holding hers, she walked with him to the edge of the cliff. The two stood side by side, watching waves crash against the jagged rocks lining the shore far below. When at last she spoke, her voice was low. “It would seem you have been granted a final gift, an opportunity; I know nothing more than that.”

  “What must I do, Mother? Tell me what to do.” He turned. Her lovely face had grown pale in the fading light.

  She slid a gentle finger beneath his chin and smiled. “Finish what you have started, my son. Go back to her. Do not squander your chance at redemption. Your soul, despite your misguided guilt, has never been in danger. It is your heart you must redeem.”

  ***

  A confused Nathan stood amidst the wreckage in Sara’s kitchen. He spun in a slow circle, shoving a piece of raw meat aside with the toe of his leather boot. What had happened here?

  He spotted the knife tossed carelessly onto the counter, and he saw drying drops of blood. The sound of his own heart, a heart he didn’t really have, drowned out every thought in his head.

  “Sara!” He rushed for the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Sara!”

  “I’m right here.”

  Nathan skidded to a stop just before he collided with her. He searched her face, studying her from head to toe for any injury, a mark, a bruise, a clue as to who had hurt the woman he loved. He saw that her left hand was bandaged, but otherwise, she appeared healthy, if a bit pale.

  Are those tears on her cheeks?

  Sara took a step towards him, and another, until she stood so close he could feel the warmth of her body. Without a word, she buried her face in his chest, rubbing her cheek across the bare flesh exposed by the open neck of his shirt. He moved to wrap his arms around her, but she shoved him away.

  “Where the hell did you go?” A finger poked him right where her cheek had been a second before. “I was terrified you wouldn’t come back. Do you hear me? You’d better have a good explanation, buddy, because I have a mind to, to…” Suddenly her cheek replaced the finger and his chest grew wet wi
th tears.

  Nathan pressed Sara close, holding her, waiting in stoic silence for her sobs to subside.

  “Where were you? Why did you, oh god...” Her words were interrupted by a hiccough. “Why did you vanish?” She whispered against his skin.

  The mere sound of her voice raised goose bumps along the entire length of his arms. His tough as nails Sara sounded so vulnerable and alone, as if his absence had devastated her.

  Nathan threaded a hand through her hair and tilted her head back to study her face. She looked stricken, bereft.

  “I’ve vanished before.”

  “No.” Sara gave her head a vigorous shake, despite his supporting hand. “This felt different. This time it felt like you might not come back.”

  Nathan smiled a gentle smile. His other hand traced the tracks of her tears. “I thought you wanted me gone. You’ve complained about my presence for months, and now you worry about my absence?”

  He watched Sara swallow. “I was afraid you might vanish forever.”

  “And you wish me to stay?”

  Sara stood on her tiptoes and looked into his eyes. He held his incorporeal breath, waiting for the press of her lips against his. Instead, she murmured, “I want you to stay, Nathan. I want you to stay with me for a long time. Can you?”

  “I don’t know, my love.” He swore he could feel the shiver that ran up her spine. “But I’m here now. Is that enough?”

  “No, it’s not enough.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “But I’ll take what I can get.” Sara blinked up at him. “Did you just call me your love?”

  Nodding, Nathan smiled at her.

  “Then why are we standing here? Whisk me off to bed, ghost, and fuck my brains out.”

  That word. It makes me hard as a bloody rock. Nathan’s laugh was wicked as he swung Sara up in his arms and whisked her into the bedroom.

  ***

  “Oh, god,” Sara groaned. “I’m a sick woman.” She brushed her fingertips over Nathan’s taut abs, loving the heat of his skin, the light dusting of silky hair; the goose bumps that rose in the wake of her touch. “I can’t seem to get my fill of you. You must think I’m some insatiable sex-starved freak.”

  “I’ve failed you, then.”

  “Failed me?” Sara rose up on an elbow. “How have you failed me?”

  “If you can still speak, I haven’t managed to fuck your brains out.” Nathan grinned.

  Sara burst into laughter. “Oh no, ghost, you’ve succeeded far beyond my wildest dreams. I am officially fucked brainless.” She flipped onto her back and Nathan rolled on top of her, burying his face in her neck.

  “I’m still capable of thought.” His voice tickled her and she laughed harder. “So we had better do it again.” His mouth trailed along her collar bone and he shifted his body lower. “Remember.” He stopped to lap at her nipple. “I have a great deal of catching up to do.”

  “Mmmmm, I like the sound of that.” He spread her legs and plunged into her. “Oh yes, there’s nothing a woman enjoys more,” she caught her breath as he withdrew and thrust again, “than a man who uses her willing body to get over years of celibacy. Ooh, Nathan.” Sara closed her eyes as she shifted her hips and arched against him. “Oh. My. God. Yes.”

  ***

  “So do you eat? Because I’ve just carried a smorgasbord up the stairs and I don’t plan to eat this by myself.” Sara laid a ceramic platter filled with fruit and a selection of cheeses on top of her comforter. She watched Nathan sit up, making sure to tuck the blankets demurely around his hips. The simple, oh-so-human, self-conscious act brought a smile to her lips and filled her with warmth for him.

  She found the very idea of using Nathan and the word, demure, in the same sentence amusing. There was nothing demure about the man, or ghost, or demon or whatever he was. From the moment he’d entered her dreams, months ago, he’d acted more like a sex machine. But the reality, no, the realness, of his presence turned her world upside down.

  Which reminds me…

  Sara plopped down on the bed facing him. She tucked one leg beneath her and popped a grape into her mouth. She pulled another grape off the stem and offered it to him. “Do you eat?”

  He stared at the small round fruit with suspicion. “I haven’t eaten in a long time.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Do you eat?” She dropped the grape into her open palm.

  Nathan met her eyes. “I don’t know if I can or cannot.”

  Sara challenged him. “Do you want to try? Or will it, oh, I don’t know, kill you? It can’t because you’re already dead, right?”

  Nathan rolled his eyes at her words, but he took the grape from her hand, held it gingerly for a moment, and then quickly popped it in his mouth.

  “Chew,” Sara suggested, with a grin, watching his every move. He did. “Swallow,” she said. She watched him for a minute more, wondering if he’d burst into flames or vanish or sprout horns. Nothing happened, except he reached for another grape.

  Sara felt that eerie chill run up her spine, the same chill she experienced every time Nathan managed to do something so very atypical of a ghost.

  “All right, now, try the cheese.” She sliced off a small chunk of the hard, yellow, cheese. “You’ve eaten cheese before?”

  Nathan nodded. He leaned over the platter and inhaled. “What flavor, what kind of cheese is this? I know I’ve smelled something like it.”

  “It’s a sharp cheddar. This one is an aged Canadian cheddar.”

  Nathan picked up the hunk of cheese and brought it to his mouth. Sara watched, fascinated, as he set it on his tongue and closed his eyes. His cheeks moved and he seemed to be sucking the flavor from the piece of cheese. Pleasure softened his features, as he gave himself over to something as beautifully average as the bite of a sharp cheddar cheese. Sara felt like crying, like she witnessed a miracle.

  “Nathan.” She ran the pad of her thumb over his sensual lower lip. His eyes opened and he turned his gaze on her. “I don’t know what happened to you. I don’t understand any of this, but I want to help. I’ll do anything I can to help you. But I need to know who you are, what you are, and why you’re here.”

  Nathan hooked an index finger beneath the thin strap of her loose halter top. His knuckles brushed her shoulder, making Sara shiver. “Why do you sleep in this flimsy attire, this shirt and these shorts?”

  “Because they’re comfortable.” Nearly closing her eyes, Sara sighed. “Hey!” Her eyes flew open. “You changed the subject.”

  His hand traveled lower beneath her shirt, brushing over her erect nipple. “Is it imperative that we have this conversation now? I’d like to get you naked, again.”

  Sarah’s stomach did an instant somersault, as her eyes strayed from his face to the prominent bulge beneath the blanket covering his hips. She groaned, instantly wet at his words, aroused beyond measure, but at the same time annoyed by her treacherous body.

  “No, Nathan, we have to…”

  “Come closer. Sit here.” In one quick move, Nathan swept her across his lap. He turned her to face him, pressing one hand against her bottom so that she cradled his erection in the juncture between her thighs. “That’s better.” He slid his other hand through her hair, tilting her head back. Her eyes met his. “Now, what did you wish to know?”

  Sara cleared her throat. She could barely manage a whisper. “Are you alive?”

  He dropped his hand and slid the strap from her shoulder, exposing one breast. He leaned her back and sucked her nipple into his mouth. His tongue felt hot and wet; his teeth hard and solid as he gave her a playful nip. “Do I feel alive?” he asked, raising his head.

  She whimpered. “Yes.”

  “Taste me.” He slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her, long, slow and deep. When at last he pulled away, he asked, “Do I taste like a living man?”

  “Uh-huh.” Sara gave a weak nod.

  “Sara.” The other strap fell from her shoulder, exposing her other breast. Nathan’s grin was wic
ked. “I am a living man tonight, with you. I don’t want to think about anything except you. Give me this one night and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Sara nodded, unable to deny him anything. “Promise me one thing,” she murmured, “that you won’t disappear again, not before we’ve had a chance to talk.”

  His hands slid up her thighs. “I promise to be here in the morning when you wake, Sara. You have my word.”

  ***

  Nathan stretched, feeling his long legs slide through soft, sweet-smelling cotton sheets. Ah, so much kinder to the skin than homespun linen. He opened his eyes with a start. He’d slept.

  Only living men sleep. The dead never sleep. His heart pounding in chest, he turned to reach for Sara, but she’d gone, leaving a tangle of blankets behind. Rolling onto his back, he slid a hand beneath his head and stared at the ceiling.

  This makes no sense. It’s not possible. He remembered his mother’s words. She’d spoken of a final gift. What does that mean? I agreed to come here and protect… Nathan sat bolt upright.

  “No, my gift is not her death. I won’t let that happen. It doesn’t matter what I feel for Sara. When this ends, she will not accompany me into the next world.”

  “You’re speaking in that weird language again.” Sara stood in the open doorway, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “I don’t recognize it. But from the look on your face, something’s wrong. Is it me?” Her smile appeared wan as she spread her arms and turned in a full circle. “Do I look different in the morning light? Are you suffering buyer’s remorse?”